#hes junes boyfriend kinda | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

javier-pena · 3 months ago

Text

three's a crowd

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader x Joel Miller

Word Count: 9.9k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You’re in love with Frankie and he is in love with you, but you both have no idea how to act on it. Until Joel Miller comes along.

Notes: I started writing this fic in June and it was supposed to be a fun little summer thing and then stuff happened and now it's October - but here it finally is. There isn't really much I can say about it except that Dani @alexturner saved the whole thing by pointing out that the final fic wasn't really like what I had talked about while discussin the idea with her and after editing it, it's much, much better. I also had a lot of fun talking about Frankie's and Joel's backstory with you, Dani 🤭 maybe I'll write that one day ...

“D’you wanna fuck her, Miller?”

BEFORE

It must have been two years ago, or maybe it was three. Your hair was longer, you had just broken up with your boyfriend of five years, had just moved to a town where you didn’t know a single soul. “A fresh start is what you need.” That’s what your therapist said to you when you cried your heart out after Derek dumped you and moved in with his new girlfriend a week later. But she hadn’t been talking about this, moving halfway across the country, all the way from Maine, where the winters are cold and the air is always salty, to Texas, where it almost never snows and the tornado sirens make you run for cover.

That’s how you met Frankie, sweet, smiling Frankie. Your truck broke down in the grocery store parking lot and he jump-started it. He stuck out to you because he was wearing a pale blue baseball cap, bleached from countless summers under the hot Texan sun, and not a cowboy hat like all the other men around. You bought him dinner at that steak place that would become your favorite, and after three shots of tequila you opened up to him. He held you when you started to cry, took you home, slept on your couch when you asked him not to leave.

You’ve been friends ever since.

He showed you around San Antonio, he flew you to Enchanted Rock in a helicopter he rented, he even took you to Mexico where you found out he speaks Spanish fluently. He helped you fix the roof of your bungalow when it started leaking. You, in turn, took him to the cinema, made him watch horror movies that made him squeal, dragged him along to a rodeo, taught him how to ride a motorcycle when he told you he had always wanted to learn. The two of you just clicked. It felt right.

Now, after three years, you can’t imagine your life without Frankie in it. You don’t remember who you were before him, and you don’t want to. He’s your best friend, and you’re his. Where one of you goes, the other follows. And of course, people mistake you for a couple, of course they ask, “And what about your girlfriend here?”, they say, “You’re lucky to be dating such a nice young fella”. You always laugh, correct them lightheartedly. But sometimes you wish they were right. You love Frankie as a friend, more than you ever thought you could love anyone, but sometimes you want more.

You almost got that more about a year after meeting Frankie. One of his friends, Santi, was in town, and you went out with a group before taking advantage of the hot tub that came with Santi’s motel. There were drinks involved, one thing led to another, and suddenly you found yourself straddling Frankie, wearing nothing more than a bikini, your fingers tugging on his curls, his hands roaming all over your body. It didn’t go any further than that, and the next morning he dropped you off at your house with his usual, “See ya ‘round.” He never talked about it and neither did you. He was probably regretting it and you didn’t want to lose him over something like this, so you left it all unsaid.

He started dating someone soon afterwards, first Arabella, then Bessie, and you hated them both, even though they were probably decent women. Luckily, neither relationship lasted long because it hurt. You didn’t tell Frankie, acted perfectly civil around them, but it felt as if your heart had been dropped from a great height and had shattered against the pavement. You had to ease that pain with a couple of meaningless one-night-stands but they couldn’t take your mind off Frankie buried deep in another woman when it should have been you. And when you told him about Billy and Carson and Hank and Landon and Clara to provoke him to do something, he just shrugged it off and said, “I’m glad you had a nice evening.”

Frankie is single now, and so are you, and life is good. It isn’t always easy, but it’s a far cry from how it was in Maine. You’ve made peace with the whole Frankie situation, realizing it might just be enough knowing you’re the most important person in his life, even if you’ll never have him completely. This way, there also won’t be a messy breakup, hurtful things said in anger, actions you can never undo. You’re content with being Frankie’s best friend, and that should be enough.

It's summer now, one of the hottest on record. The AC in your bungalow broke and Frankie wanted to help you fix it, but then he got busy at work. That was almost a week ago, and you use these circumstances as an excuse to hang out at Frankie’s place as much as possible. He doesn’t mind. He has a big pool in his backyard that he always shares with you, and he loves your company. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s putting off fixing your AC on purpose.

You’re floating on your back, eyes closed, the sounds around you muffled by the water. Frankie is lounging in a chair by the side of the pool, resting in the shade after a hot day. Every time you glance over at him, his eyes are closed. That gives you the freedom to truly look, to see him how not many people are allowed to see him.

You take a deep breath and dive, floating weightlessly for a few seconds. It’s so easy to imagine this to be your life, Frankie to be your boyfriend. If he were, nothing would be different. You’d get to use your shared pool, watch him doze in the shade, help him prepare dinner later, laugh at his corny jokes … Your heart squeezes when you realize you have all of that and still it isn’t enough. What’s missing is riding him by the side of the pool, your bodies sticky with sweat. What’s missing is kissing his neck while he’s watching the brazier. What’s missing is knowing he’s yours and you’re his, come what may.

There’s a shadow by the side of the pool, and you scramble upwards, breaking through the surface with a gasp. “What?” you ask, smiling up at Frankie, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand.

Frankie gives you a thumbs up. “Just making sure you’re not drowning.”

You’re treading water as you say, “Would you jump in and rescue me if I was?”

He laughs. “I’m pretty sure you’re a better swimmer than me.”

“I’d make it worth your while.” You wink at him.

He lowers himself into a crouch so he’s closer to the surface of the water, closer to you. “How?”

“Ever heard of mouth-to-mouth?”

He laughs one of those laughs that comes from deep inside his chest and shakes his whole body. “Leave it to you to make saving someone’s life sound sexy.”

“But it is sexy,” you say emphatically. “Imagine pulling me from the pool, your big, strong arms wrapped around me. I think you’d stay calm and collected; you’d know exactly what to do. Any woman who doesn’t fall for you after that would be a fool.”

Frankie dips his fingers into the water and flicks some of it in your direction. You squeal and try to duck, but the drops still hit you in a quick shower. “Shut up,” Frankie laughs.

You use your whole hand to try and shove the water back toward him. You miss. “Stop it,” you tell him, no weight behind your words, a broad smile on your face.

“Hey!” he shouts. “Don’t make me come in there, young lady.”

He always makes you laugh when he calls you that, the air of authority he puts into his words. You’re not that much younger than he is, but he always acts as if you’re 20 years his junior, while you have started calling him “gramps” to rile him up.

You propel yourself backward, away from him toward the opposite side of the pool. “You’re too chickenshit.”

“Oh, just you wait.” He starts to pull his shirt over his head, his cap that he always wears getting caught in the hem of the neckline. You really try not to but you can’t help looking at his soft belly, the white skin such a stark contrast to his tanned arms. You wonder what it would be like to touch him, what sounds he would make in response to the difference in pressure, if you were using your nails or –

“Am I interruptin’ somethin’?”

You don’t mean to, but you squeal at the sudden appearance of a strange man next to Frankie. You were so preoccupied staring at your friend you didn’t notice someone else approach.

Frankie lowers his shirt. His cheeks are slightly flushed. “Joel!”

You glance between the two men, but neither of them offers an explanation. Instead, a heavy silence settles itself over this already muggy afternoon.

Finally, the stranger, Joel, speaks. “Is this a bad time or –?”

“No, no,” Frankie quickly assures him while you bite down a harsh, “Yes, it is”. Frankie runs his palms down his shirt, trying to smooth the creased fabric. “I just … I had no idea you were in town.

“Well, I am,” Joel replies in a tone of voice that rubs you the wrong way. “I thought I’d drive by, see if you’re home.”

Frankie glances at you, seemingly only now remembering your presence. “This is Joel Miller,” he says in an oddly formal voice. “We sometimes work together.”

“Hi.” You raise your hand out of the water to wave at Joel, the smile you put on not reaching your eyes.

If you had to guess, you’d say Joel was older than Frankie by at least five years, maybe even ten. He’s taller too, broad-shouldered where Frankie tends to fold in on himself. His graying hair is slightly too long, but his graying beard makes him look handsome, especially when he gives you a twisted half-smile as if he’s fully aware of what he just interrupted and is taking pleasure in your discomfort and annoyance. You want him to leave but with a clench of your stomach you realize you also want him to stay.

“She your girlfriend?” Joel asks without pretense, nodding at you in a way that makes you clench your fists.

Frankie chuckles awkwardly, a sound you only heard a few times before and always hated. He lifts his cap with one hand to scratch his scalp, then shakes his head. “No, we’re just friends.”

Joel shifts, rolls his shoulders ever so slightly. “Nice to meet you, just friend of Frankie’s.”

Can’t say the same about you, you want to say but if there’s one thing you learned from your years spent in the south is that there is nothing more important than hospitality. “You too,” you say instead, and start kicking the water, doing laps in the pool. If you ignore him, maybe he’ll leave soon.

But Frankie opens a beer bottle for him and Joel sits down in the lawn chair next to him, taking a big swig. You try to ignore them as best as you can, but you can’t keep your ears from straining to catch snippets of their conversation.

“… between jobs … just a couple o’ nights …”

“… go out tomorrow … bar in town …”

“… broke up with me ‘cause she … her friend …”

Sometimes Frankie laughs in a way he only does when he wants to impress someone. Usually, you can see it too, usually you admire the same people but there is something about Joel that makes alarm bells ring in your head. And you don’t like the way Frankie behaves around him. You don’t want to call it submissive because you hate that word, but it feels as if he’s putting up a front for Joel, not saying what he really wants to say, not doing what he really wants to do.

But then sometimes Joel’s eyes are on you, his gaze hooded, and he doesn’t look away when you catch him staring. There is something in the brazen way he does it that makes you crave more, and you’re a little bit disgusted with yourself for wanting that. You don’t know this man, and you don’t like what you glimpsed so far, but when he asks, “Any chance of you joinin’ us, sunshine?” you’re so very tempted to say yes.

“I wanna shower first,” you answer, pushing yourself up on the edge of the pool. Joel’s eyes immediately shoot to your chest while Frankie’s are glued to his bottle, his fingers busy picking at the label.

“Don’t keep us waitin’,” Joel says in a tone of voice that grates on you and makes you tighten your jaw. You want to flip him off, and he knows it too because he raises his half-empty bottle to you. You wish Frankie would say something, or at least acknowledge your presence, but a loose thread on his jeans has caught his attention now. Your chest tightens with annoyance and, even though you’re loath to admit it, hurt, and you huff at Joel before grabbing your towel and making your way toward Frankie’s house. You feel Joel’s eyes burn a searing mark into your back.

You have no right to feel the way you do, you tell yourself as you work shampoo into your hair. Frankie can be friends with whomever he wants to. This is his house and he can let himself be treated however he sees fit. And you’re not dependent on him to defend you against a jerk like Joel, you can manage that all on your own. Besides, it’s not as if Joel is going to be around for long, he will most likely leave after another beer or two, so there really is no reason for you to get so worked up about it.

And yet …

You turn off the water with a quick jerk of your hand.

Stepping out of the shower, locating a fresh towel, it’s like second nature to you. You briefly bury the face in the soft fabric, inhaling the clean scent of Frankie’s detergent, a scent that will always bring you comfort. Then you pull one of the several dresses you keep at Frankie’s house over your head before using the towel to superficially dry your hair. It comes away smelling like him, which sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You’ve come to terms with it, you really have. Yes, you sometimes dream about kissing him, yes, you can’t stop fantasizing about what the two of you would be like as a couple, but what you have is nice. And it feels like it should be enough, which should count for something, right?

“Took your sweet time in there, sunshine.”

You jump, only registering Joel’s presence leaning against the opposite wall as you pull the bathroom door closed behind you.

“There’s a half bath next to the kitchen,” you tell him, avoiding his searing gaze. “You know, if you need to go.”

You try to scurry down the hallway and back out into the garden, but Joel pushes himself off the wall and steps into your way. “I don’t,” he answers. “I was looking for you.”

You sigh and look up at him, hoping he’ll notice your mild annoyance. “Why?”

“Frankie’s busy with dinner.” His gaze sweeps you from your damp hair down to your bare feet, widening as he notices your dress is slightly too tight at your chest. “And you look like good company.” Before you can come up with a snide remark, he’s two steps closer and his hand is suddenly resting on your waist, his palm hot to the touch even through the fabric. “You’re certainly prettier.”

The sudden contact, his brazen approach catches you off-guard. It’s been years since a man has treated you like this, and many years more since you were free to do with that whatever you wanted.

“Come on.” Why is his voice so low suddenly? “Cat got your tongue?”

You roll your eyes. “N-”

But before you’re able to finish the second short sound, the thumb of his free hand is on your bottom lip and he starts to pull it down. “Let me check.”

Before your brain can consider all your options, you bite down on his finger, hard, out of reflex, drawing a hiss from him. He pulls back, steps away, shakes his hand. But that sleazy half-smile is still firmly fixed on his face. “Oh, you’re a little fighter, is that it?”

You take a step closer to him in an attempt to intimidate him, but he doesn’t budge. “I just don’t like it when people touch me without my permission.”

“I bet that sweet little pussy of yours is tellin’ a different tale.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shove him, both palms hitting his chest, and he loses some ground.

He tries to snatch your wrist but you’re too fast for him. “Careful, sunshine. Don’t irritate me.”

“Why?” You push your chin forward in defiance. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“Oh, I have some ideas.” Joel reaches for your waist again, but you manage to step back quickly. He balls his hand into a fist. “I just ain’t sure you’d like them very much.”

“Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“I’d like to teach you some,” he shoots back.

The sound of Frankie clearing his throat makes you jump. He’s standing behind Joel, just inside the sliding door that leads into the garden, a cocktail shaker in his hand, an apron covering his chest. “Drinks are ready,” he announces, his voice tense. Then he turns around, leaving you to wonder how long he’s been standing there and how much he heard.

Your stomach curls tightly with shame. Not because of anything he might have overheard or because of anything you did, but because you liked the way Joel talked to you, you liked that he decided he wanted you and went for it. You liked being close to him, feeling his uninvited touch on your body, hearing him say those lewd things. And all the while you forgot about Frankie, for the first time in months.

Joel glances at you and some of the shame must show on your face because he says, “If I kissed you right now, do you think he’d punch me?”

And just like that you’re back to feeling the slow grating of annoyance, like nails scraping down a chalkboard. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you huff before pushing past him and stepping back out into the garden.

The evening light is softer now, the heat feels less oppressive. The sun has begun to dip toward the horizon, and Frankie’s shadow is long against the grass as he waits for you to rejoin him by the pool. You want to put on your brightest smile for him, want to show him how much you appreciate everything he is doing for you, but with him you never have to pretend. Your face lights up when you see him whether you want it to or not, your steps quicken, your heart feels full of happiness. Even someone like Joel can’t ruin that, no matter how hard he might try.

“All clean?” Frankie has a lopsided grin on his face and a martini glass in his hand. When you nod, he hands it to you. “I made it just the way you like it.”

“Thanks, honey,” you tease and playfully kiss his cheek.

“This one’s for you.” Frankie hands Joel a tumbler full of amber liquid.

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Just whiskey?”

“You seem like a whiskey kinda guy,” Frankie answers with a shrug before taking off his apron and hanging it over the backrest of his lawn chair.

“What are you having?” you ask, sitting down on one of the sun loungers Frankie keeps next to the pool.

Frankie lightly shakes his beer bottle. “I’ll stick with this for now.”

You glance from him to Joel and then back to him as both men remain standing, clutching their drinks. “Well, this is nice and relaxing.”

“Sorry,” Frankie mumbles and lets himself fall back into his chair. “Long day.”

Joel chuckles and steps forward, but instead of choosing the chair next to Frankie’s, he sits down on the sunbed right next to you. The rough denim of his jeans scrapes against your naked thigh and you scoot away from him, clearing your throat. Joel doesn’t seem to have noticed; his eyes are fixed on Frankie.

“You never told me you had a nice place like this,” he says, vaguely waving his hand at the pool and the manicured lawn. “I would’ve come over much sooner.”

“Where do you live?” you ask before Frankie can say something.

Joel chuckles before taking a sip from his whiskey. “You know what would go great with this?” He pulls a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of the back pocket of his jeans, conveniently having to lean against you to retrieve it. You push back, refusing to make yourself small. He holds the pack out to you first, but you shake your head. He doesn’t offer it to Frankie.

“She asked you a question.”

Your eyes snap from the sight of Joel lighting a cigarette, the filter hugged firmly between his lips, to Frankie, who has his elbows propped up on his knees, a thumb and forefinger wrapped around the neck of the beer bottle, holding it precariously.

Joel takes a drag from his cigarette and exhales slowly. The smoke tickles your suddenly very dry throat. “I live here and there,” he finally replies. “Wherever work takes me.”

“Okay, so where do you currently live?” you probe.

Joel waves his hand around. “Y’know …”

“What he means to say is that he’s currently between houses,” Frankie clarifies, a slight tension in his voice you haven’t heard before.

“Oh, so you’re a bum?” Is Frankie’s face lighting up with satisfaction at your comment or are you only imagining that?

Joel takes another drag. “I’m whatever you want me to be.”

It was bad enough that he had no regard for your boundaries when Frankie wasn’t right there next to you, but he can’t expect you to just take it now that Frankie is this close. You try to stand up, but his hand closes around yours and pulls you back down next to him, the force of it making some of your drink spill.

“Hey!” you protest loudly, but he only slings his arm around your shoulder.

“His girlfriend just kicked him out,” Frankie goes on, pretending he didn’t notice what just went down. “He cheated on her with her best friend.”

“Couldn’t have been a very good friend then.” You pick Joel’s heavy arm off your shoulders and let it fall down next to you.

Joel shrugs. “If I see somethin’ I want, I take it.”

“Must be lonely, going through life with that mindset,” you observe, watching him as he stubs out the cigarette against the tiles surrounding the pool.

“Depends on what you want out of life, I s’pose.”

You glance up at the slowly darkening evening sky, currently a soft, darkening blue, then take a sip from your very strong martini. “And what is that?” you ask, watching a bird glide across the sky.

“D’you wanna fuck her, Miller?”

AFTER

“Yes.” It comes out rough and breathless and eager, and suddenly your blood is rushing in your ears. You have no idea when the evening shifted to this, but you suppose it was inevitable from the moment Joel walked in. You just didn’t think Frankie would be the one to ask the question.

You glance at Frankie, sweet Frankie, who always respects you, always treats you like you’re royalty, and you see something in his gaze you’ve never seen before, a sort of strangled curiosity, like he’s desperate to find out where this might go, but unsure if he can handle the way there. You smile at him, and you nod, and his pupils dilate immediately, setting your heart pounding. That’s all he needs from you, and all you need from him.

Frankie puts his beer bottle on a small table next to his chair, leans back, crosses one leg over the other, ankle resting against his thigh. “Tough luck, pal,” he says, and next to you Joel stiffens. “You can kiss her though.”

For a moment, you’re right back there in high school, a bottle pointing at you, your friend Ines grinning at you from across the circle, Billy licking his lips nervously. But you’re all grown up now, you’ve played these games a million times, should know their rules by heart. Then why are your hands so sweaty?

Joel doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t even wait for you to turn toward him. His hand is already at the back of your neck while your eyes are still on Frankie, and his lips have found yours while you’re still trying to decipher the look in Frankie’s gaze. The kiss is rough, almost unpleasantly so, and you can taste the nicotine and whiskey on Joel’s tongue that claims your mouth with hungry licks. Joel’s whole body is pushing against yours, and you push back, pressing your chest against his, making his concentration slip briefly. You use this moment of inattention to gain the upper hand and bite his lip, less violently than you bit his finger but hard enough for him to inhale sharply. Maybe even hard enough to draw a little bit of blood.

Joel shifts, tightens his hold on your neck, and pushes up against you even more, like he’s trying to get you to lie down and submit to him. Resisting his efforts gives you a feeling of power you’re unable, maybe even unwilling, to control. You’re still trying to come to terms with the newness of the situation, with the shift that has taken place, but you know exactly what you want, and that is not to give up one inch to Joel without making him work hard for it.

Joel’s hand is on your naked thigh now, tough callouses rubbing against smooth skin. Just like his kisses, it almost feels too violent, but then you remember Frankie’s hands roaming your body in that hot tub, the way the water hadn’t managed to soften his skin. You remember how much you wanted him that night, and suddenly you wish Joel would touch you more.

As if he can read your thoughts, Joel’s hand is suddenly at the underside of your breast, cupping it through the fabric of your dress, his thumb finding the nipple so confidently as if he has touched you a million times before. Your body responds to the touch immediately and you lean into it, your lips parting in a stifled moan. The pad of his thumb rubs across your hardening nipple, rolls it through the dress and the bra you’re wearing, and you should push him away, make him feel like his efforts are futile and he has no effect on you whatsoever, but it’s been too long. Too fucking long. You’re on fire, unpleasantly so, feeling like you’re burning up too fast, like the flames have barely touched you and you’re already turning to ash. You press yourself into Joel’s touch as your jaw slackens, and he grabs your breast and squeezes it roughly while pushing his tongue into your mouth with the sole intent of making you gag.

“Hey!” Frankie’s voice is sharp, but when you flinch away from Joel and glance over at him, he’s still sitting in his chair holding his bottle of beer.

Your ears feel hot with shame as you refuse to acknowledge Joel’s presence and avoid Frankie’s gaze. Frankie was the one to suggest the kiss, Joel made the first move – then why do you feel such shame? Like you’ve been caught cheating? Why do you feel it’s wrong to –

“What?” Joel asks, interrupting the spiral you’re about to slide down.

Frankie squeezes the neck of the bottle, his skin making a wet sound against the glass. “We said kiss.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see that sleazy smirk return to Joel’s lips. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a little second base.”

Frankie seems to consider this, his eyes fixed to the ground beneath his feet. You wish you could tell what was going on in his mind, but your heart is still racing like you’re being hunted for sport and your body is screaming for Joel to put his hands on you again, and all of that is too much to read Frankie.

Frankie holds out a hand to Joel. “Cigarette,” he says, and Joel obliges. You watch Frankie light it up and take a deep drag, a sight so unfamiliar it makes you eager to commit it to memory. “So you really wanna fuck her then?” he finally asks.

There is a pressure low in your abdomen that makes you shift against the lounger.

Joel only laughs, crude and hoarse, as if deigning that question with an answer is below him. “Where did you get that idea from?”

Frankie takes another drag, a short one this time, before glancing directly at Joel’s crotch. You follow his gaze to find a bulge there, one that definitely wasn’t there before, straining against the stiff fabric. When Joel’s eyes find yours, you make sure he sees you lick your lips. His jaw twitches.

Frankie leans back comfortably in his chair, some of the ash from the cigarette landing on his pants. He brushes it off with a flick of his wrist. “I’ll let you fuck her. But you’re gonna do exactly as I say.”

You think you must have entered a parallel universe or another dimension. For a short while at least. None of it makes sense: the cigarette in Frankie’s hand, the way he talks and what he says, that man next to you who is nothing more than a stranger, who had his tongue in your mouth two minutes ago, and that all of this makes you wetter than you can ever remember being. But then Frankie’s eyes meet yours, dark pupils blown unfamiliarly wide, and yet there is something in them you recognize – this isn’t a stranger who is looking at you, this is your best friend. No matter what happens next, he’s going to look out for you. All you need to do is trust him.

Next to you, Joel shifts, adjusting his crotch. He licks his lips. “Yeah.” He nods. “Okay.”

Your eyes are on Frankie now, heart racing in your chest, mouth completely dry, as you wait for what comes next. Your brain is running hot trying to go through all the possibilities of what Frankie could have Joel do to you, but all you come back to is Frankie kneeling in front of you, spreading your legs. Joel is nothing more than a shadow beside you, watching with a hungry gaze.

Frankie leans forward and reaches out his hand as if he means to touch you, but then stops himself and leans back. “You don’t have to do as you’re told.” The softness in his voice catches you by surprise, but he goes on before you can analyze it. “To start, do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You glance at Joel, at how stiff his shoulders are, and you face him, trembling fingers pulling his shirt up where it is tugged into his jeans. Up and up you pull it until he has to raise his arms for you to get it off, and then you finally see his body betray his nerves as his chest flushes a deep red. There is a scar on his left collarbone, old and slightly brighter than the skin around it, there are some sparse, dark gray hairs on his chest, and his stomach is so much firmer than Frankie’s, so much less inviting.

Joel huffs and your gaze shoots back up to his face. “Kinda boring, don’t ya think? Pullin’ off my shirt when you could’ve done anythin’ to me?”

You won’t let him get to you, not like that, not when Frankie’s eyes are on you. “There’s no shame in me enjoying myself by taking things slow,” you retort. “I know your first move would’ve been to stuff two fingers into me but where’s the fun in that?”

“Oh, you’re gonna see where the fun in that is when you’re comin’ ‘round ‘em,” he replies with that infuriatingly sleazy smile darkening his face.

You lean in just a tiny bit closer. “Only if Frankie lets you.” God, that thought turns you on so much your head starts to spin.

Once you recover, Joel’s right hand is cupping your jaw, his grip firm, while his thumb rests against your lips. “Someone should stuff that mouth o’ yours.”

You open your mouth then, until his thumb is only pressing against your bottom lip. You let it slide in past your teeth until you can feel it on your tongue, heavy, tasting like nicotine. You close your lips around the digit and suck on it, your cheeks hollowing, your tongue massaging it. The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches. Somewhere to your right, you hear Frankie’s chair groan.

The sound of Frankie’s voice interrupts you. “I want you to take off her dress.”

With a wet plop, Joel pulls his thumb out of your mouth and then starts pulling at the straps of your sundress, pushing them down your shoulders.

“Slowly,” Frankie adds, his voice calm as if he’s talking to a semi-feral animal.

Joel moves you so both your feet are planted firmly on the ground, then shifts so he’s behind you. He finds the zipper at the back of your dress and begins to pull it down, torturously slowly as if there is something he wants to prove to Frankie. As more and more of your skin is revealed, he brushes over it, calloused fingers making you shiver. His hands feel so much like Frankie’s, and yet not at all like him. Frankie would be soft and gentle too, but he wouldn’t scrape you with his short nails, he wouldn’t tremble like it takes everything in him not to devour you whole.

The fabric of your dress glides down your shoulders and back, and comes to rest around your hips. It isn’t anything Frankie hasn’t seen before – your breasts are still covered, after all – and yet there is something in his gaze when you look at him, a strange kind of longing, like desire that has been kept in check for so long it has become second nature to him. You can see it in the flare of his nostrils, in the darkening of his eyes, in the way his bottom lip trembles briefly before he darts out his tongue to wet it. And yet he sits there, watching, his body unmoving like it has been trained not to give in.

“Take off her bra.”

Even Frankie’s voice is controlled and even. You shift, pulling back your shoulders and pushing out your chest in an attempt to get him to break, but his gaze shifts from you to Joel as he waits for the other man to follow his orders. Joel doesn’t need to be told twice. He flicks open the clasp at your back with one hand and your bra falls away. You push out your chin, willing your face not to heat up.

Frankie’s throat works as he swallows, a small crack in the otherwise impenetrable wall he has put up. “You’re perfect …” His voice, too, cracks on the second syllable and he coughs. “Wouldn’t you agree, Joel?”

Joel doesn’t reply. Instead, he cups one of your breasts again and squeezes the nipple tightly between his thumb and forefinger, making you arch you back as a small stab of pain shoots through you. Now that the protective barrier of fabric is gone, you can feel just how rough his skin is against your sensitive spots, how his callouses catch in places your own fingers smoothly glide over. Your head falls back against his shoulder as he pinches your nipple again, as he begins to roll it roughly, pull on it from time to time to hear you hiss.

Joel’s chest rises and falls against your back, hot skin pressing into hot skin, his breath caressing the back of your neck. He runs his nose from your earlobe all the way down to your shoulder, then back up again, but before he reaches the starting point, he sinks his teeth into your neck and bites down, drawing a shivering gasp from you. And then he doesn’t let go. He bites down harder, holding you in place, while cupping your breast with his entire hand, kneading it until your world tilts.

You’re not aware of how desperate you are to find purchase, but the garden and the pool and the sky above right themselves when your hand finds Joel’s thigh. The denim is rough beneath your palm, but he is a rough man so it doesn’t surprise you. What does surprise you though is how hard you have to fight to keep yourself from bucking your hips.

“Joel, stop.”

For just a short little while you had forgot Frankie is there with you, but his voice reminds you with brute force. And when Joel does as he’s told and you are left with nothing to distract you, all you can do is look at your best friend, at his fingers wrapped around that cigarette, and wonder what it would feel like to have him play with your nipple instead of Joel. The painful way your heart constricts at that thought utterly catches you by surprise.

Frankie takes a final drag on his cigarette, flicks the butt away, and clears his throat. “You’ll only do what I tell you to do.”

You shift, the fabric of your underwear rubbing against your clit sending a bolt of desperation through you, mixing with that unbearable longing to create a heady, dangerous cocktail. “Frankie, please.”

Frankie takes you in, and you have no idea what he sees, but he runs his thumb across his bottom lip and asks, “Do you want him to touch you?”

Joel runs his fingers up and down your arm, his touch so light it feels like torture. You try to squirm away but he keeps you trapped against his chest.

You exhale shakily. “Yeah.” There’s a brief moment of hesitation, one that makes your heart flutter as you decide whether you should keep going. You do. “God, I’m so wet.”

Joel’s wandering fingers close around your upper arm like a vise.

But Frankie keeps up his walls. “Show me how wet she is, Joel.”

You don’t think there has ever been a moment in your life where you were more turned on, a single moment where you were less in control of your body and your desires. You try to stand up, your legs trembling like you just finished a marathon, hands wrapped around your dress, ready to pull it all the way down. Joel doesn’t even let you straighten your back. He pulls you back against his chest and wraps an arm around yours before running his free hand down your stomach, not seductively or teasingly but as if he has a task to fulfill. You’ve barely registered the sensation of his fingers against your lower stomach before he has pushed them past the fabric bunched around you hips and into your underwear, and this time you lose the battle against your own body. You roll your hips into his touch as your eyes flutter shut, you push and push, moans and whimpers urging him on. He doesn’t need to be encouraged – he rolls your clit beneath his index finger, just like he rolled your nipple, before dipping it lower, pushing past the muscles at your opening and up into you.

Before you can make sense of it all, he removes his hand and holds up two fingers right in front of your eyes, glistening with your slick. Your chest heaving, you try to catch your breath.

Frankie’s eyes are wide open. “What does she taste like?” he asks, his voice rough as if he hasn’t used it in quite some time.

Joel rubs his thumb against his index and middle finger, toying with your slick. “Don’t you want to find out for yourself?”

Frankie nods so slightly you can’t be sure it really happens, then hides behind a smirk, and you feel something unbearably insisting curl up tightly in the pit of your stomach. “You tell me.”

Suddenly, Joel’s fingers are at your lips, pushing into your mouth. You open up, surprised by the sudden intrusion, and then his thick digits are pressing down against your tongue, making you gag. Tears are filling your eyes, and spit drips out of your mouth as you feel Joel’s hot breath against the shell of your ear.

“Tell him.”

You can’t, not even if you wanted to. Not because you can’t taste yourself on Joel’s skin, not because you can’t talk with his fingers filling up your mouth, but because Frankie flies out of his chair, brow furrowed and fists clenched. Before he can come to your aid, you close your hand around Joel’s wrist and push his fingers even deeper into your mouth, not breaking eye contact with Frankie, not even for a split second.

Joel presses down against your tongue and you suck on his fingers eagerly, but none of that matters to you. The only thing you care about is the red flush creeping up Frankie’s neck and into his cheeks, and the way he keeps closing the distance between the three of you until he’s standing right there, close enough for you to reach out and run your hands up and down his thigh.

Frankie’s hand is warm and heavy as it closes around yours, pulling Joel’s fingers out of your mouth. You gasp, unable to prevent a thin thread of spit from connecting your lips to Joel’s hand. It winks out of existence a second later when Frankie’s mouth clashes against yours, drawing another gasp from you, one that releases months and months of pent-up longing, one that originates deep in your chest but almost dies on your lips, stifled by wonder.

It isn’t a soft kiss, it isn’t even particularly well executed since your teeth clash painfully and Frankie pushes too hard too quickly. He also tastes more like Joel than himself, of beer and cigarettes, but none of that matters. He could have given you a small peck on the cheek and it would have been the greatest kiss you had ever shared with anyone. You feel his breath against your cheek, a shaky exhale, and before you can stop yourself, you find yourself fisting his shirt, fingers clenched so tightly you will never be able to let go again. That is all you ever wanted, all you ever prayed for, and now that you have it, you never want to lose it again.

Eventually, Frankie pulls back ever so slightly and whispers against your lips, “Summer, that’s what you taste like,” and it’s such a corny line it should have you rolling your eyes, but instead you crane your neck and seal your lips to his again, high from the feeling of your tongue in his mouth. He huffs and pushes up against you, but he’s not close enough – there’s still so much space between you. You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt and pull him even closer, but suddenly rough hands grab your arms and hold you back forcefully.

“I wanna go first.” It isn’t a request, that much is clear.

Frankie pulls back and smiles down at you, his face soft and open, searching for any indication you don’t want to do this anymore. Even though you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you want him right now, the thought of him watching while Joel fucks you, utterly in control of the situation, makes you clench around nothing. Frankie can tell – he switches back to his neutral mask in the matter of a second. “You didn’t do as you were told …”

It isn’t a threat, but it might as well be.

Joel hooks a thumb into your mouth and pulls down your bottom lip. You try to bite him again, but he is prepared this time, holding you in place. “Let me come in her mouth at least.”

Frankie grabs Joel’s wrist again and pulls his hand away from your face. “No.”

You have never heard him use that voice before, that kind of voice that makes you snap to attention, that voice that commands people to follow him. You shift, trying to rub your thighs together, but it’s just a primal reaction you have no control over. All your attention is on Joel trying to pull his wrist out of Frankie’s grip, and on Frankie holding him in place, the muscles in his arm straining.

“I’m going to sit back down, and you’re going to fuck her.” Frankie’s voice is so calm it sends a shiver down your spine. “Slowly,” he adds, letting go of Joel’s wrist. “And if you make her come before I tell you to, there’ll be consequences.”

Every muscle in your body tightens. You’re too wound up to rationally consider what Frankie is proposing, too wound up to think about how much you want this and what that might mean. You glance behind you to catch Joel’s reaction, to see if he’s just as affected by Frankie’s proposition as you are, just in time to watch him lick his lips.

“And I get to fuck her however I want?”

Frankie’s gaze shifts to you. It’s nothing more than a glance, a quick check-in, and you nod, just as quickly, just as imperceptibly.

“Yes,” Frankie answers.

Next thing you know, you’re up on the lounger, knees and hands braced against the soft pillows, faded from long summers under the hot Texan sun, focusing on the sounds of Joel unbuckling his belt. You feel your throat tighten at those sounds, leather scraping against skin, metal clicking against metal, but your mouth is too dry to swallow. Joel unzips his jeans, then there’s a rustling sound, followed by a deep, needy groan. It’s enough to make your heartbeat stumble over itself with excitement. You try to turn your head and glance behind you to see what he is doing, but Joel catches your movement and forces your head down, firm grip at the back of your skull.

“Stay.”

To your right, you hear the sound of Frankie shifting in his chair. He doesn’t intervene.

Joel grabs the bunched-up fabric of your dress with both hands and begins to tear it with quick, jerking movements, ruining it. It falls away and glides down to the ground where it comes to rest next to the lounger, leaving you almost completely exposed to Joel. And Joel doesn’t hesitate. He pushes the thin fabric of your underwear aside and sinks into you with one deep, calculated thrust you can feel in your chest.

Your fists clenched, your head hanging low, you try to take it, but his thrusts send shudders of pain up and down your body. It’s not unbearable, and it shouldn’t surprise you; he fucks like he does everything else – rough and with an edge of violence to it – but the stretch is uncomfortable, and the thrusts are greedy, so much so you wish he had surprised you after all.

“Slow down,” Frankie orders, and you lift your eyes to him. A muscle twitches in his jaw, and when Joel does as he’s told, he watches you closely, searching your face for any signs of the discomfort lessening. You shift, your body adjusting to the feeling of being so full, and when Frankie asks, his voice low, “You okay?” you realize that you are. You’re more than okay, actually. Two more shallow thrusts from Joel and you’re completely relaxed.

“Yeah,” you answer, just for Frankie to hear and his lips quirk up in a smile.

“We’re good,” he tells Joel.

Joel’s open palm lands against your ass cheek catching you unawares, as does the moan you let loose at the sudden burst of pain. Frankie swallows, or at least you think he does – you can’t be sure with your eyes flutterin shut. You push back against Joel, eager for more, pulling him deeper inside of you with a greedy clench.

“The way you’re clenchin’ ‘round me makes me think you’ve never had dick before.”

Joel’s voice comes out restrained, the words are punctuated by more slaps, one harder than the last. Their meaning is lost on you as you are reduced to a babbling mess, unable to retain anything that is happening outside of your desire for him. You gush around his cock, hot and wet and wanton, and somewhere between the thrusts and the grunts, you hear a chortle.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t ya.”

That chortle is what pulls you back into yourself, and you risk another glance behind you, hoping that this time he will let you see. He does, and you watch him pound into you, both hands on your hips, denim pulled just low enough to free his cock, dark hairs curling just above it, streaked with bulging veins. He has one knee braced against the lounger, one foot firmly planted on the ground. You almost hate yourself for being so affected by that sight, but you can feel everything tighten, your body begging for release.

“Fuck,” you groan, your voice breathy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna –”

With a condescending smirk, Joel reaches for your clit. “Go ahead, sunshine.”

You close your eyes, focusing on how you’re clenching around him. You’re so, so close, you can almost taste the release on your tongue. Your mouth hangs open, a moan begins to emerge from someplace deep inside your chest and –

Joel’s hips falter and still, and you can feel yourself flutter desperately around him, but it’s not enough. You glide along his length, coming down from the edge, frustration blossoming in the pit of your stomach. Joel’s fingers rest uselessly against your swollen clit, still as the rest of him, and whenever you try to grind yourself against them, his touch lessens.

“Joel …,” you whine, opening your eyes to look back at him.

It’s not Joel your gaze lands on. It’s Frankie, standing right there next to the lounger, one hand on Joel’s head, fisting his hair, pulling on it so his chin is raised high, his neck exposed, a thick vein pulsing near its base. Joel is breathing heavily, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t try to free himself, while Frankie looks down at him, darkness clouding his features.

“You’ll do as I tell you or I won’t let you come inside of her.”

Frankie lets go of Joel’s hair with a shove to drive home the point. Even now, freed from his restraint, Joel doesn’t fight back. He glares at Frankie as if he’s imagining beating him bloody, but he does like he’s told, removing his fingers from your clit to dig them back into your hip. He picks up the pace again, thrusts a little shallower than before, drawing a sigh of relief from you, scratching that undefinable itch Frankie restraining Joel like that triggered in you. That itch you don’t want to examine too closely right now but that you know you’ll return to.

Frankie pats Joel’s shoulder, two firm raps against the straining muscles. “Good boy.”

You clench so hard around Joel he must notice, but he doesn’t remark on it. He resumes the steady snapping of his hips while your eyes fall shut and drop down to your elbows, those two words floating around your mind like an echo.

Good boy.

A desperate little whimper escapes you, one at least Frankie seems to hear, because he runs two knuckles up and down your spine in a movement that is meant to calm you but shoves you toward the edge with a violent jolt. He must know what he’s doing to you, there is no way he hasn’t noticed. And it should fill you with shame, it should make you resent him, the way you lie bare before him, showing him the most vulnerable parts of yourself, but it only makes you want him more. You open your eyes to find him standing right next to you. This close, you can see how tight his pants stretch over the bulge you hadn’t noticed before, how you think you can even make out a dark spot of precum forming against the fabric. You lick your lips.

“Frankie, please.” Your voice is rough and broken, laced with desperation.

Joel shoves into you so violently you feel the thrust in your throat, but he doesn’t say anything.

Frankie leans down and places a soft kiss against your temple, then runs his thumb across your furrowed brow. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

You whish you could tell him you’ve been ready ever since he suggested Joel should fuck you, but you can only laugh, a broken sound followed by a hard swallow.

Frankie straightens his back, his eyes bright with excitement. “I see.” He makes his way back over to his chair and sits down, the wood groaning beneath his weight. “Go ahead, Joel.”

Joel picks up the pace, making every thought, every doubt you might have, instantly disappear from your head. His fingers find your clit again, rubbing you hard, and after that it doesn’t take long at all. After that, you let out a deep moan and push back against Joel so hard it makes him lose his rhythm, but it doesn’t matter. You’re coming, pulling him deeper into you as he fucks you through it, letting you squeeze him as you sink deep into pleasure, losing track of your body’s movements.

You come back to the surface when you’re spent, and everything feels sore and tender, but Joel doesn’t stop. There is a burning between your legs now and you hiss, reaching back for him.

Frankie is there next to you again, cupping your cheek. You have no idea when he approached, what made him leave his role as spectator this time, but you instantly relax when you feel his touch on him. “Just a little more,” he murmurs, calming you. “You can take it, I know you can.”

You watch him squeeze the bulge in his pants, and giving it another, harder squeeze when Joel grabs your wrist and pins it to the small of your back. The proof of how much he’s affected by you is enough to chase away the discomfort and rekindle the fire in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes glued to the bulge in Frankie’s pants you wonder what it would be like to feel him thrust into you, chasing his release, to feel him take what he needed from your body, fueled by how much you want him in return.

Finally, Joel stills and spills into you, groaning as his orgasm sparks through him. But your eyes are locked to Frankie’s, as neither of you dares to look away.

THE OUTCOME

The neon sign of the motel casts deep shadows into the cabin of Frankie’s pickup. Your gaze is fixed to the flashing letters, promising vacancy. A car rushes past, its tires whispering against the concrete, still hot from the Texan summer day. You try to ignore the tightness in your stomach, but when a door falls shut with a rattling bang somewhere nearby, you feel that sound like a punch to your gut.

“That was fun,” Joel says from the backseat. He stretches his legs, kicking his foot against your backrest. “If you ever wanna repeat that …” He lets the offer hang there in the air between you.

Frankie grabs the steering wheel tightly, the wood groaning under his skin. “We’ll know where to find you,” he finishes the sentence.

Joel braces both hands against your backrest and leans forward so his lips are close to your ear. “I think I’ll stick around for a while, so if you ever wanna grab some drinks, sunshine …”

Only half-listening, you reply, “Whatever,” fighting down the nausea you’ve been feeling ever since you climbed into Frankie’s truck.

“Whatever,” Joel echoes with a huff, opens the backdoor, and climbs out. “You know, I’ve had better,” he adds, before shutting the door with a loud bang.

“Hey!” Frankie barks, but you shake your head, and Frankie lets him walk away.

It doesn’t matter what Joel says to you. You couldn’t care less. Because as soon as Frankie starts the car, he’ll drive it straight over to your place, say goodnight without really looking at you, and tomorrow, he’ll pretend that none of this happened. Just like he did before. And as much as you hate that thought, you’re going to have to live with it.

As Joel climbs the stairs to the second-floor landing of the motel, you say, “You’ll want to take me home now, right?” It’s best to get it over with as quickly as possible.

The wood groans again, but this time from Frankie loosening his grip. He takes off his cap and runs his fingers through his ruffled curls. You don’t look at him, but you study him out of the corner of your eye, trying to read his face. He puts the cap back on, then slings his arm across the backrest of your seat. ��Actually … I was hopin’ you’d come back to my place.”

The nausea you’ve been feeling pricks up its ears with interest and then curls up into a tiny ball, tugged away in a corner of your stomach. “Oh?” you say. And that’s all you manage before he closes the distance between you, his left hand cupping your jaw, his lips brushing against yours, tentatively, asking for permission. You give it to him by fisting his shirt, pulling him toward you, by smiling against his lips, exhaling all the tension in one short giggle, full of relief. He strokes his thumb across your cheek at the same time as you open up for him so he can brush his tongue against yours. You find yourself mirroring him, hand on his cheek, thumb running over the stubble there, relishing the feeling of him being so close.

You pull away first, and he follows you, mouth slightly open, chasing another taste. “What are we gonna do at your place? Do you have more friends who want to fuck me while you watch?” you ask, high from the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, from that promise that he won’t forget about any of this in the morning.

A neon flash lights up Frankie’s face, once, twice, as you watch his cheeks darken with a flush. He takes his time, studying your face closely. “No,” he says, his voice a low rumble, so unfamiliar it draws a smile from him, “I want to fuck you myself.”

If you enjoyed the fic, I'd love to hear from you 🥰 feel free to leave a comment or drop into my inbox anytime ...

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #frankie morales x reader x joel miller #frankie morales x you x joel miller #triple frontier fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #i need to stop with these insanely long fics lmao

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year ago

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Here's a lil idea that I simply do not have the time to make a full fic of, but I gotta get it out or it won't leave me alone.

Steve thinks he's in a happy, fulfilling relationship with Eddie, while Eddie's insecurities have him believing he's just a place holder for the future Mrs. Harrington.

It comes to light when Steve does something cheesy and romantic and Eddie, not able to handle it because it's too romantic, tries to joke about it like "why would you bother to put all this effort in just for me?"

And Steve like "what do you mean? You're my boyfriend and I wanted to"

And then Eddie like "yeah, no, I know that. I just don't understand why." And then he goes on a little self-deprecating rant, explaining all the ways he's not good enough for Steve, all while Steve just stares at him, brow furrowing more and more as Eddie speaks.

When Eddie finally runs out of words, Steve says, "I don't understand? What have I done to make you think this?"

And Eddie kinda blue screens. Because Steve hasn't done anything to make Eddie think this; he's been a perfect boyfriend. It's just... it's inevitable, isn't it? That Steve'll move onto to bigger, better things? Eddie says as much.

"Why?"

"Because it's- because you're Steve Harrington!"

Since Steve's brow can't possibly furrow anymore, he starts to frown now. "I still don't understand?? Why did- do you think I'm just going to be going through the checkout at Melvald's and just decide I want to marry some random woman instead of being with you?"

"What? No. It's not- I don't think you'll intentionally decide you want someone else more just randomly but, like..."

"There's no 'but' here, Eds. I asked you out because I want to be with you. You said yes because, I assume, you want to be with me, too! Was I wrong to assume-"

"NO! No! I do want to be with you!"

"Then.... you think I don't want to be with you?"

"I didn't say that."

"Sorry, it felt like you were implying it. So. If I haven't done anything to make you think I don't want to be with you, and you just said you want to be with me, then what... I don't understand where these thoughts have come from. Have you- were you just going to go through our whole relationship waiting for something bad to happen?"

And Eddie can just look down and shrug because, well, yeah. He had been thinking that. He has been waiting for the other shoe to drop. And now they're having this conversation and he's ruined Steve's sweet, romantic gesture with his own bullshit. So, even if the shoe wasn't going to drop before, it will now, because he's gone and fucked it up by putting his insecurities onto Steve and-

"What can I do to help you believe I'm in it, for as long as you want me?"

Eddie looks back to Steve then, because that's not what he expected to hear. "What?"

Steve steps closer, the furrowed brow and the frown gone, replacing it instead is the sappy look he catches on Steve's face every now and then, when Eddie's doing something particularly Eddie-ish. "Tell me what I can do to help you believe in this. In us. And I'll do it. Every day until we die."

"Steve," Eddie warbles out, surprised by his own watery voice. "I-I'm sorry. I-"

"Hush," Steve says, gentle and sure as he takes Eddie's face in his hands. "No apologies. I get it, so you don't have to apologize. Just. Talk to me, okay? Because I'm not holding out for something better. Not when you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Besides Robin."

"Besides Robin," Eddie agrees, nodding his head as much as he can in Steve's grasp. "But, uh, things like this. This helps." He gestures at the romantic candle-lite dinner slowly getting cold. There are flowers in a vase, and a cheesy little Garfield plushie sitting on the table, leaned against Eddie's wine glass. It's a Tuesday night in June and nowhere near a birthday, or holiday, or anniversary. Steve's just made him a sweet, romantic dinner just because.

"Oh good. You have no idea how much I'm restraining myself by not doing this weekly," Steve whispers before placing a kiss to Eddie's forehead, nose, then lips. "Now. Let's eat dinner before it gets too cold."

And it might take a while, for Eddie's insecurities to fade, but Steve keeps being Steve, which means perfect if not a little snarky, and then the next thing Eddie knows, it's been several decades and Steve will walk with him hand in hand to the courthouse and stand in line for hours to quickly get married. (They'll spend another two years planning the actual wedding because Eddie's dramatic and Steve's a perfectionist.)

#steddie #my fic #i just like the idea of steve having already worked out his insecurities with the help of his bestie #so hes better equipped to help eddie through his #is it realistic? who cares. its cute and thats more important

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816wdc · 7 months ago

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😍 lando x fem!reader with the prompt

"Can you preheat the apartment? I'm on my way home. "

- "what are you, banana bread?"

Maybe she's cold like allllll the time, even in the summer (it's me, I'm her)

chilly ✹ ln4 x reader

hello anon ^_^ thank you for the request! i kinda flipped the dialogue because i thought it flowed better, but lmk what u think :) this is officially my first f1-related writing ive put out into the world, so comments are greatly appreciated!

word count: 475

notes: mostly casual dialogue, not proofread. about a phone call between reader and lando! no use of y/n. i also dont think its explicitly stated reader is fem, so take it how you will!

It was freezing.

Not really, of course. It was June, in London, in one of the worst heat waves ever recorded. But you’d spent all day in the office, which had its aircon on blast to accommodate for the heat. You can’t really blame whoever was in charge of that, really. It was over 30 degrees out and any sane person would be boiling.

And yet, here you were, trembling even as you signed off for the day and pulled out your cell phone. It was a ritual, at this point, to call Lando once you were off work. Going through the motions of pulling up his contact and hitting ‘call’ didn’t even require your attention anymore.

Lando’s voice crackled to life almost immediately when the call connected. “Hello, darling. I was wondering when you’d call.”

A soft smile bloomed on your face just at the sound of his voice as you stood from your desk and gathered your things. “Hi, Lando,” you reply. His infectious joyful energy seeped into you even through the phone, and a little laugh could be heard as you continued to speak. “It’s been so cold in the office today, but I’m on my way home now.”

A content hum came from the other line. “Finally. Feels like you’ve been gone forever.” An amused exhale escapes you at that. “You won’t be cold once you step outside, though. Boiling today, innit?”

You groan, the stickiness of the air clogging your lungs as soon as you step outside. “Yes, I’m outside now. I’m sure you’ve got the air on in my apartment. Can you just… grab me a blanket that I can wrap up in once I’m home?”

The question embarrasses you almost immediately after it leaves your lips. Complaining about how hot it is, then asking your boyfriend to grab you a blanket seems silly. It kind of is. “The aircon is always freezing. I don’t care how hot it is outside,” you say, a whiny lilt as you talk over Lando’s squeaking laugh.

“Wow. Over 30 degrees out and of course you’re asking me for a blanket,” he starts, though he’s still laughing more than he is talking. “But yes, darling, I will preheat the couch for you with tea and blankets.”

A real laugh comes from you as you approach the entrance to the tube station. “Preheat? What am I, like, banana bread or something?”

Both of you were laughing now, Lando’s coming out broken as you waited underground for your train. “Banana bread sounds fantastic. You’ve made me hungry, now! Ugh, done me dirty. Jon won’t allow that,” he groans.

Another hum from you as the ticker board says your train is only a minute away. “Okay, okay. My train is here. I’ll be home in ten, my love. See you.”

“Right. See you soon, you loaf.”

let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #ln4 #ln4 x reader #request #anon

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lillypad910 · 25 days ago

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Christmas with the Emersons

Eddie Munson x Emerson! Girly! Fem! Reader

Part 2 of Brother's Best Friend!

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! Smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, pin, protected sex (follow their example!), a lot of fluff, giggly cuteness, Christmas celebrations, not pre-read, might have errors, Reader is Gareth's little sister

Summary: After 6 months of dating Eddie, you're reminded of the Christmas get together your family throws every year. This time, Eddie is invited- or, "your boyfriend" is, since your family isn't aware of that person being Eddie Munson yet. Will they be excited for you? Or will your brother have something to say about it?

a/n: this took so long and I know its late but shush.

Big thanks to my girl Mare at @munsonsmixtapes for giving me her time to help me wrap this bitch up!

It is December 1st of 1992, the cold air outside leaks through your not-greatly-sealed windows into your apartment. Your heater broke on you last week, and you’ve been waiting for the landlord to send a guy to fix it. Fortunately, your new-ish boyfriend was kind enough to stick around until it’s fixed.

Lounging across the couch, on top of your boyfriend, Eddie, you bury yourself into his chest. He chuckles as your hair spreads across his skin, pulling the blanket that’s wrapped around you both more over your shoulders. “You ok, sweetheart?” He asks, running his fingers through your hair to clear a spot for you to look up at him through.

You do so, blowing air to push a strand he missed out of the way, “No, I’m cold.” You give him a playful glare, not actually meaning it, of course.

“Aww, I’m sorry,” he wraps his arms around you more snuggly, “I know another way to warm you up…” he smirks. Your cheeks flush, slapping your forehead against his chest once again, making him laugh.

To be honest, even though you and Eddie have been dating for 5 months now, since that fateful concert back in June, you haven’t done anything…physical. Besides the heated make out sessions and getting to your underwear before backing out. Thankfully, Eddie is really understanding about it all.

“Not… yet.” You mentally groan out the words, straining your brain.

His lips press to your forehead, smiling softly, “I know, Sweetheart, I was just teasing.” He pulls you closer to him, sitting up in his spot on the couch. He places his finger around your chin pulling you towards him, pressing his lips to yours. You hum into the kiss, still amazed at how you were able to actually start dating your teenage-self’s crush.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, as his tongue swipes your bottom lip. Just as his tongue breaches your lips- your phone rings.

You groan, dropping your head to his shoulder for a second before pushing off of him, yanking the blanket with you. He is yanked off the couch in the process, a soft yelp leaves him as you make your way to the counter where your phone is stationed.

“Hello?” You answer, holding the phone to your ear.

“Hey, Sweetie! It’s Mom!” Your mother’s recognizable voice echos through the speaker, her cheerful attitude as perky as ever.

“Hey, Mom,” you glance at Eddie as his head pops up to look at you as you address who you are talking to, “What’s up?”

“Oh nothing much, just trying to figure out what we are all doing for this year’s Christmas party, you know. Now that Garrett is married, you have a whole new boyfriend none of us have met before, everything’s different.”

You never told your family who you were dating, not even his name. You just said you started seeing someone, and that you promised they would meet him when you brought him home. You didn’t think about the Christmas party your parents host every year when you made that promise. That’s bad planning on your end.

“Oh yeah…” you hesitate, “I honestly kinda forgot, haha…” your mom hums in response.

“I figured as much, but not to worry! I’ve already got your room all ready for you to arrive in two weeks. And when you and that mysterious boy get here, you can help us go pick out a tree, decorate it, help me prep meals and all the goodies for-“

Your mother talks on and on about all the tasks you will have to do when you get there. You like Christmas, you really do, especially when you were still at home and could help your mom prepare everything so early in the month to make sure everything was perfect. “The Emerson Way” as your dad called it, perfection was the only outcome for Christmas. But god, did you just wanna stay home, in your cold apartment with your warm-bodied boyfriend.

“Mom,” you call out to her, and she shushes herself quickly, “let me talk about it with him, ok? I need to be sure he can even come this year.” You explain.

She gasps, “Oh my lord, of course!! I’ll let you go so you can give him a call. I love you!”

“Love you, Mom.” You hang up the phone.

Obviously you are not about to call Eddie Munson’s apartment, so you turn around. “Eds, code red. It’s Christmas.” Eddie looks at you confused, finally lifting himself off the ground.

“Yeah? I know, it’s December.” He chuckles a bit.

“No, Eddie, you don’t get it. It’s Christmas. The Emerson’s Christmas Party?” You gesture to your phone as you watch him blink.

God, you love him but sometimes his brain is ‘head empty, no thoughts’.

“Sweetie,” you step closer to him, placing your hands on the sides of his face. “My family hosts a party every Christmas Eve. I’m a required guest, and now so are you.” It hits him.

“Oh- Oh no.” Eddie hasn’t spoken to your brother, his ex best friend, in six years. At the time they were besties you were a simple 16 year old girl that he never thought of as more than just ‘Gareth’s little sister.’ Now you’re his girlfriend. “Oh I’m dead. Oh sweetheart, he’s gonna kill me.” Eddie hisses in a breath, wrapping his arms around himself. He may have just been cold but you also think it’s because he’s genuinely uncomfortable with this news.

“He’s not gonna kill you, Gareth doesn’t have the heart for that. Besides, Cindy wouldn’t let him even if he tried. Can’t have her husband in jail with a baby on the way.” You let out a soft laugh, trying to joke.

“Eds, I promise it will be fine.” You give his nose a soft kiss. “When do we leave…?” He asks, eyes wide with anticipation. “Two weeks…?” You awkwardly smile. He yelps.

The two weeks fly by fast, and before you know it, it’s December 14th and you’re passing the ‘Wecome to Hawkins’ sign as you cross over the town line.

“Haven’t seen that sign in a while.” Eddie speaks genuinely, it has been 6 years since he was last in Hawkins.

“Oddly enough I’ve seen it more in recent years than I ever did living in Hawkins.” You explain to him, watching the trees pass the car as you come into familiar territory.

Driving up the long driveway of your home you see a familiar car parked outside, your brother’s car. You and Eddie glance at each other, before turning off the car and stepping out onto the pavement into the cold crisp air of Hawkins, Indiana.

You don’t grab your luggage just yet, too nervous to bother with it right now. As you step towards the front door, Eddie follows close after.

It’s weird, he’s always felt welcomed at your house in the past, felt like part of the family. But now he feels like a total stranger, like a bear stepping into a bush with a hidden trap.

You ring the doorbell, rolling back and forth on your heels as you wait impatiently for the bright smile of your mother. “Coming!!” You hear a sing-song voice call out, and you’re both able to get in one final deep breath before the front door opens.

“(Y/n)!” Your mother opens the door, all smiles like usual, pulling you into a hug, “It’s so good to see you, dear!” She pulls away and looks up at Eddie. “Well as I live and breathe!” She smiles at him. “Is that really you, Eddie Munson? My, you’ve grown quite a lot!” She holds up her hand to graze his head before pulling him into a bone crushing hug.

“It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie hugs her back.

When she pulls away she smiles happily, “Oh, please, call me Donna, Eddie. I’ve known you since you were a kid! It’s only fair.” She turns back to you after patting his arm. “Sweetie, I thought you said you were bringing your boyfriend? Not that I’m complaining, Eddie Munson is forever a welcome face in this house,” she smiles at him again before facing you once more.

“Mom,” you smile at her, “meet my boyfriend.” You gesture to Eddie beside you. “Eddie.”

Donna Lynn Emerson looks up at Eddie, her smile growing wider before her eyes close and few words leave her breath, “Oh thank you, Jesus.” “What?” You ask. “Sweetie, I love you, you know that,” you mom pats your arm, “but when you told us you weren’t gonna tell us anything about your boyfriend until we met him, we all thought he was gonna be some biker or gang member.”

She turns to Eddie and taps the side of her head, “Parents brains go to the worst outcomes.” “So… you’re not mad…?” You ask, a little shocked by the chill reaction.

“(Y/n), you’ve had a crush on this boy since you were 14. You’re living the teenage girl dream, Sweetie, I don’t judge.” She smiles at you, “Besides, It’s Eddie. I know his Uncle, knew his dad, his mom, shit I knew this kid’s grandma on both sides.” She laughs to herself.

“But we are four years apart…? That doesn’t concern you?” Your mom’s face go dead serious, making the both of you jump at the sudden change in expression.

“Sweetie, I’m 7 years younger than your dad, and we married when I was 19. You’re a 22 year old woman who can make her own choices.”

“Anyways!! Come in!! Get out of the cold!” She drags you both into the house.

Stepping into the familiar entry way, you take off your coats and shoes, sitting them by the door and respectable hooks. You mother leads you both into the kitchen, where you are met with a very familiar face.

“Cindy!” You smile and run up to the girl, throwing your arms around her. “(Y/n)!! Hi!” Cindy laughs and pulls you to her, but you be careful not to squish her too hard on her belly.

Gareth and Cindy got married nearly two years ago now during February of 1991. They met 5 years ago when Gareth moved away for college. You will never forget that Christmas of 1988 when you met her, been friends ever since. You honestly questioned who side you would be on if they divorced. You love your brother, but it’s Cindy.

“How have you been? I’m sorry I wasn’t able to call you last week, life got a little hectic.” She laughs running her hand over her baby bump.

“I’ve been good! And no worries! My heater broke a couple weeks ago so I’ve been just shivering in the cold since then, honestly this might be my vacation.” You laugh a bit.

She giggles before turning her attention to Eddie, “This must be the guy!!” She holds out her hand to him, “So lovely to finally meet you! (Y/n) never told us your name so I apologize for the awkwardness of the family.”

Eddie shakes her hand, smiling at her, “oh it’s fine, I actually-”

“Munson?” A voice comes from behind you all and Cindy tilts her head.

You both turn around and there in the door way is your dear brother. “Shit. Holly shit!” Gareth, as if reverting back to 17 practically tackles his old friend. “Dude! It’s been what? Almost seven years? Where the fuck did you go?” He pulls away, smacking his old friend’s arm.

Eddie looks like a relief was weighed off him, “I needed to get out of town, moved to Indianapolis, been living there ever since, though I’ve actually gone on tour a few times now.” Eddie snickers and Gareth chuckles.

“Yeah, no shit! Jeff and I found out there was a band called ‘Corroded Coffin’ and nearly fainted!” He turns to his wife who smiles at him. “Oh! Eddie,” Gareth squeezes through the two of you, wrapping his arms around the woman your age, “meet Cindy. She’s my wife.” He’s practically glowing when sharing this knowledge.

Eddie tilts towards you and not even bothering to whisper goes, “I see why you say they are meant for each other.” You snicker and Gareth glares at you.

A moment of laughter washes over all of you though, but Gareth stops first, “so, why are you here, man? Not that I’m complaining, just-“

“Oh!” Eddie, blissfully innocent Eddie, smiles at his old best friend before throwing his arm around your shoulders. “I’m (y/n)’s mystery boyfriend! Isn’t that cool?” As if clockwork, Gareth’s arms drop from his wife, his smile drops, and he stares at Eddie.

“I’m sorry,” he glances at you before looking back at the tall guy, “repeat that?”

“Eds-“ you go to press your arm against him.

“I’m her boyfriend! Isn’t that cool?” Eddie chuckles a bit, obviously more nervous than the first time he said it.

“You son of a-“ Gareth doesn’t even finish before tackling him, arm wrapped around his neck, locking him in a choke hold. Eddie flails around like a fish out of water, “I told you she’s off limits! When the fuck in all those years did I stutter!”

Gareth bumps into everything almost knocking over Grandma’s vase before, “Gareth!” The entire house goes silent. Your mother, the sweet woman that she is, struts into the kitchen and practically rips your brother off your boyfriend. “Eddie, dear, are you ok?”

“Him!?” Gareth yells, utterly shocked.

“Yes, Gareth! Him!” She glared at him, making your brother’s back go pencil straight.

Gotta hand it to Mom, she’s a sweet one, but god damn you don’t wanna be in the cross fire of her glare.

“I’m ok, Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck, “kinda deserves that honestly.” He lets out a chuckle.

“I’m sorry,” you step forward, turning towards the nitwit you call a brother. “Off limits?”

“Oh,” Gareth hesitates, “I made the guys promise to never date you. I know them, trust me you don’t wanna know everything about them.” You gesture to Eddie.

“Kinda been living under the same roof with this one for a good few weeks now, trust me what ever you know, I know.” Eddie blushes covering his face in his hands.

“Sweetheart, no…” He knew what Gareth was meaning, and god knows you have not discovered yet.

“What?” You question.

“I hate to ask, but if I don’t it’s gonna bother me,” Gareth takes a deep breath, “Have you two-“

“no!” You speak a little too quickly for everyone in the room, “no… not- oh my god, Gareth. Why are you like this?” You hold your head in your hands.

Gareth raises his hands up defensively. “Sorry.”

It doesn’t take long for everyone to get comfortable again. Gareth takes Eddie out to the garage with your dad and talks, you, your mom, and Cindy all stand around the kitchen, helping your mom do some Christmas baking.

“So,” your mom smiles at you, “Where did you meet Eddie again? He mentioned living in Indianapolis?” You roll the rolling pin over the homemade cookie dough on the counter, pressing it flat.

“Steph had tickets to his show, though I didn’t know it was his show when she invited us.” You explain, checking the width of the flattened dough.

“That’s fun! Did you meet him during the show?”

“Half time, and then met up with him again after. Jenny was there too.”

“How is Jenny? I haven’t seen her in a while.” Your mother changes the subject.

“Good, she’s dating this new guy, I’ve met him once. He’s cool.”

“Good for her.” Your mother smiles.

Cindy comes up by you with the container of cookie cutters. You both take a few and start cutting out Christmas shapes from the dough. “It’s good to have you home.” Cindy nudges you with her shoulder, “This town is so boring without you.”

“Aww, thanks, Cindy.” You smile at her.

“Your father has been a pain, claiming he needs to come see you every week. I kept telling him off about it.” Your mother jumps in.

“Gareth too, when you called us and complained about your heating being out, he was about to drive down and come fix it for you.” Cindy chimes in. You giggle at their claims, happy to know your brother and father still want to take care of you even though you’re a good bit away now.

After a little more baking and cookie decorating, the men come back in from the garage, beers empty and ready to eat. Eddie steps over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and hugging you from behind. He leans down and kisses your cheek. “Having fun?” You ask him, smiling at the small kiss.

“Yeah, it’s nice to catch up with your dad and Gareth.” He leans his head against yours.

After you all eat, your mother notices the time, and quickly shoos everyone off to bed. “We need to get up bright and early! Tree shopping isn’t going to do itself!”

You step up to your old room, Eddie close behind you as you open the door. “Whoa,” Eddie mumbles from behind you. You look across the room. It’s the exact same, the pink walls, white carpet, and baby blue bed spread.

“Don’t judge,” you glance back at him before stepping in, dropping your bag - that you finally got from the car - onto the floor.

Eddie steps into the room, glancing around at the pictures you have on your walls. There’s a painting he remembers you painted in art in your Freshman year, the mirror over your dresser, and a ABBA poster taped on your closet door.

As he steps closer to your mirror, he looks over the photos tucked into the frame. Pictures of you and Jenny in middle school, you and Gareth in the yard as little kids, and one more. You and him, a picture Gareth took the night you were at their concert back then. He was smiling at the camera in that picture, his arm thrown over your shoulders.

“That’s cute.” You look over at him, seeing the photo he points to.

“Oh- um, yeah…” you feel your cheeks heating up, looking back down at your bag. Eddie steps closer to you, placing his hand on you cheek and pulling you closer to him. His lips press to your forehead, soft and sweet.

“You’re cute,” his words are simple but to the point. “You make it hard to forget,” you let out a soft laugh.

The next morning, you wake in your old bed, the alarm on your night stand ringing out. You press the ‘off’ button before throwing yourself back against the mattress. You look over to where you left your boyfriend last night, but the spot is already empty. Then, the door to your room opens.

Stepping into the dim room, Eddie smiles at you with a mug in hand, “good morning, sweetheart. I brought you some coffee.” He makes his way around the bed as you sit up, before hanging the mug over to you.

Taking it you look down at the contents of the mug. “You didn’t have to do that, Eds, but thank you.”

“Of course!” He crouches down by the bed, smiling like a kid in a candy store as you take your first sip.

“Mm! You’re making my coffee every morning now. This is so good.”

After a semi-slow morning, you come downstairs fully dressed and ready for the day, your family all ready in the kitchen. “Finally, the bear leaves her cave.” Gareth snickers. You roll your eyes at him, “Oh, shut up.”

Your family piles into your mom’s Chevy Suburban. Your dad driving, mom shotgunning, Cindy and you in the middle row, and Eddie and Gareth in the back. The ride is nice, your mom having the Christmas station playing on the radio, with you and Cindy (mostly) perfectly singing every song it plays. Gareth and Eddie banging their hands against the back of your seats to the beat.

After your dad pulls the SUV into the local “Mary’s Trees,” the place everyone in Hawkin’s buys their Christmas trees, you all fumble out of the brick on wheels, Eddie nearly falling out himself. You all are quickly greeted by an associate, one you remember well from high school.

“Welcome, Emerson Family!” Tiffany Fraser, a girl who was on the cheer squad in your high school, smiles and greets your mom and dad with open arms. Her blond hair blown out and curled, perfectly pulled back into a high pony tail. “Coming by a little later this year, but don’t worry, I have some perfect trees to show you!”

Your mother smiles at Tiffany and loops arms with her before letting herself be dragged off, “Please share! I’ve been dying to get decorating!”

It doesn’t take long for your parents and brother to begin to make their way through the forest of Christmas trees for sale. You take this opportunity to fall back and hang with your obviously intrigued boyfriend.

Eddie’s eyes dart all around the area, the subtle glitter in his eye reminds you of childhood wonder. “You doing ok, Eds?” You ask him, stepping into an easy pace with him as you both follow behind your family.

“Hmm?” Eddie’s head snaps to your direction, before getting distracted again, “Yeah, yeah… didn’t realize how many trees would be here. How do you pick just one?”

You blink. What?

“What do you mean?” The question came out a little more harsh than you intended but you were genuinely confused, “have you never been tree shopping before?”

“I mean…” Eddie hesitates.

He had gone with his uncle Wayne once to pick out a tree. Though it was in a box and he had gotten it from one of the few chain stores in Hawkins. It’s a memory he will hold on to forever.

“Once. With Wayne, but it was a fake tree. I didn’t realize people actually bought real trees to decorate.” His eyes glance over the rows and rows of living trees that the farm has on display.

Something about that made you feel weird. You never even thought about that. Eddie grew up in the trailer park down the road with his Uncle Wayne. They wereon the poorer side, not having much money and Eddie mostly wearing hand-me-downs from Wayne until he could buy his own clothes. For some reason you didn't realise how different you two grew up. But suddenly this Christmas tree meant more to you.

"Hey, Mom?" You get your mother's attention, and she turns to you, stopping her conversation with Tiffany.

"Yes, dear?" Her voice is as joyful as always.

“In honor of Eddie joining us this year, can he pick the tree?" You know you're asking for a lot from your family, especially your mother. Donna Lynn loves Christmas. She loves to have full control over it.

"What a great idea!" Her voice seems to go higher, causing people around you to glance over, "Of course! Eddie, please do us the honors of picking out the tree this year!" Eddie glances at you with a look of pure concern. You pat his back lightly and lead him towards the front of the party. "Tiffany, you remember Eddie from high school, right?" Your mother asks her.

You remember Tiffany hated your brother and his friends in high school, and now she was being made to be nice to him.

"I do, nice to see you again, Eddie." Tiffany smiles and you can tell its a bit strained. She continues with, "Let me show you some trees they might like, that way you at least know you did something right..." The second part was mumbled under her breath, but you heard it, and so did Eddie based on his expression.

"What was that?" You ask, quite loudly so your mother looks over, interested. "Hmm?" Tiffany looks over at you, "oh nothing, just speaking to myself, haha." She turns around quickly after getting a weird look from your mother, but luckely no further comment was made.

It takes a while of Tiffany showing the metalhead different trees, him getting your mother's input before he finally decides on a wide 7ft tree. The cielings in your house were taller downstairs so your mom told him it was alright. When you got home, the boys help move the tree into the living room, while your mom, Cindy, and you migrated to the kitchen. The first thing you noticed on the island was the Christmas recipe tin from your Granny.

"Are we making anything tonight?" Cindy asks, situating herself on one of the stools as she opens the tin to go thorugh the recipes. You walk up behind her and lean over her shoulder.

“We can, but it will have to make something that will be fine for the next week." Donna replies, washing her hands at the kitchen sink. "Any ideas?" Cindy looks up to you.

"Maybe the Peanut Brittle? Ohh, or the Buckeye Balls!" You snatch the recipe card for the Reese's-like recipe out of the tin the moment you see it.

Your mother giggles, "You did always like that one... How about this, Cindy and I make the Brittle, and you and Eddie make the Buckeye Balls?" your mother suggests. You smile, excited to finally have the best holidy treat just sitting in the fridge, begging to be eaten by none other than yourself.

Eddie comes in with Gareth and your dad, who both walk straight up to their wifes. "Tree is up and ready to be decorated!" Your father sallutes your mother, making her giggle. He kisses her cheek before stepping over to the fridge and pulling out a coke.

"That tree was heavy..." Eddie steps up to you from behind and sits his chin on your shoulder, "Gareth and I both had to hold it straight while your dad bolted it into the stand, but damn."

You nod, leaning your head onto his, "hmm, now think how my dad feels doing that every year while we were kids, and Gareht didn't start helping until he was thirteen." You glance over at your brother who shuffles through the recipe cards.

"Don't look at me like that." Gareth doesn't even look up at you.

“How do you always know?" You ask, which inclines him to turn to you.

"I can feel the burning rays of your eyes staring straight into my head. You've never been a subtle starer."

You smack your hand to your chest, faking insult. "How dare you! I'm an amazing starer!"

Gareth rolls his eyes before looking at Eddie. "This is who you're settling for?"

Oh now you're insulted. "Hey-!"

"Enough!" Your mother gets your attention, making both you and Gareth look over at her, "I'm stopping that before it even begins... God, behave, both of you." 'Behave' was strained, you'd obviously annoyed her with your sibling banter. "Eddie, (y/n), you two make the Buckeyeballs. Gareth, Cindy, would you two make the Peanut Brittle?"

"Of course!" Cindy gives her award winning smile, but your brother just hums in response. "Thank you."

"Wait, what are you and dad gonna go do?" Gareth asks, his teenage self coming through, and you swear you just experienced some deja vu.

“Mom and I are gonna go sit our asses on the cough. You two know the kitchen and where everything is." Your dad answers for your mom.

"Exactly!" She jumps in with a smile, starting to push him towards the living room. "We're old, Gareth! We need a break!"

"You are not old!" Gareth yells as they go through the arch of the kitchen, "And they are gone..."

“Yup" you respond, not even really shocked about your parents ditching you.

“If we were under fifteen I'd say we might be safe to assume a nother sibling before next year, but-"

"Gareth! Ew!" Cindy interrupts.

"Oh please, you’re pregnant, Cin."

You shake your head at your brother's comeback, “I agree it’s gross, I never wanna think about our parent's sex life." Gareth just shruges.

As the four of you look over your recipe cards and begin to pull out the ingredients you need - or rather, you and Gareth get out everything you need - Cindy sets up some Christmas music to play on the stereo in the kitchen corner, while Eddie helps her pick out the first song. It doesn't take long for Jingle Bell Rock to be echoing through the house.

Gareth hogs the stove, heating up his sugar mixture for the Brittle, bickering back and forth with you because he refuses to let you start melting your semi-sweet chocolate chips. Cindy is prepping the pans for you all to use, linning then each with some parchment paper. Eddie is already mixing up the powder sugar, peanut butter, softened butter, and vanila in a large bowl, aproned up - per your request - so he doesnt get dusts of sugar on his new Metalica shirt.

It takes a while, but soon the goodies are done and you are able to finally take a seat.

You and Eddie take refuge on the couch, him laying across first with you laying over him. Gareth takes your dad’s chair, with Cindy sitting just on the arm.

“Well at least we’ve got it done.” Cindy smiles, brushing some of Gareth’s hair out of his face.

“Yeah, still kinda pissed mom and dad didn’t help. Those bitches.” Gareth glares in the direction of the stairs.

Your parents called it a night about two hours ago, coming in the kitchen to say goodnight to you all before shuffling up the stairs giggling like a couple of high schools. It was a little unnerving if you had to be entirely serious with yourself.

“Oh, let them enjoy themselves. They deserve a break after dealing with you for your entire childhood.” Cindy kisses his forehead, earning herself a scoff from your brother but a few well deserved chuckles from you and Eddie.

“I was not the problem child!” Gareth tries to defend himself, glancing over at you. You can’t even defend yourself before Cindy follows up.

“Yes you were.” She smiles at him, glowing under the soft lamp light. “But hey, at least you have your sibling as your child. We’re gonna have a well behaved kid. Poor (y/n) gets you.” She nuzzles into him a bit.

You have to admit, Cindy and your brother were adorable. They perfectly balanced each other, with his annoying antics and her sweet personality.

“Well,” Cindy stands back up after a few more minutes, “I say it’s bed time! Lord knows your mother will come barging into our rooms in the morning.” She does a quick stretch before taking Gareth’s hand, pulling him up from his spot. “Goodnight you two! Go to bed soon.” Cindy calls out, dragging the (in denial) man-child up the stairs.

“Goodnight!” You and Eddie call back, watching as Gareth mumbles annoyances under his breath to his wife, who just giggles and waves him off.

“They’re an interesting pair.” Eddie smiles to himself, his arms gripping a bit tighter around your waist.

“They are. But they’re cute.” You express, leaning your head back on his chest. Eddie hums.

His eyes roam down to you as you lay there over him. Your fingers drum over his, playing with his rings, the metal cold to the touch. He cant help but feel a warmth rise in him at the sight of you, the little bit of chocolate still on the corners of your mouth from licking the spoon from your kitchen adventure.

You abruptly turn around, sitting up and straddling his lap, your knees now placed on the outer sides of his thighs. He feels his heart pick up, suddenly nervous as you face him, a soft smile on your lips.

“We should probably go too-“ you’re cut off when Eddie’s lips press to yours. You gasp, caught off guard by the suddenness. His hands press to your hips, dragging you closer to him. Eddie kisses you deeply, before kissing the corners of your mouth, then down your jaw and neck. You can’t help the soft moan that leaves you.

“Eddie-“ you try but your voice catches in your throat when you feel the bulge of his pants as he tries to press you to him. Heat floods your face, suddenly embarrassed. You press your hands to his shoulders, softly pushing at him, which he relents immediately.

“Sorry, just… got carried away.” Eddie mumbles, a bit breathless from the kisses he was giving. “I was just watching you in there and I kept wanting to- ugh.” Eddie runs one hand through his long hair, pushing the strands back. “I know we’ve agreed that we would wait until you’re ready… I didn’t mean to push… just-“

You cut him off, pressing your lips to his again, earning a soft groan from him that ignites something in you. He gently places his hands back on your waist, respecting the boundaries you had originally placed. You pull away just a bit, both of you with your cheeks flushed.

“Eddie,” you call out to him, his chocolate brown eyes stare deep into you. “I-“ you hesitate, feeling your legs twitch as his thumb rubs circles into your hip, “I’d like to…” you glance away from him, embarrassed to say more, but Eddie understands your words.

He leans forward, placing soft kisses on your temple and cheek before you feel his hot breath on your ear. “How about we head out for a bit?”

You both slowly make your way upstairs to your room, but he takes every opportunity to give you little kisses that stops you in your tracks and makes you giggle. When you both make it into your room, you watch him grab his jacket and pull you close for one last gentle kiss.

“Stay here.” He mumbles to you, a simple order that you can’t stop yourself from obeying. You realize you’d probably do anything he asked of you, as long as he pairs it with a soft kiss and that goofy youthful grin you love so much.

“Ok” is all you get out before you watch him exit your room once again, jacket barely on his shoulders as he leaves. You sit on your bed, feeling a little antsy as you wait, your nerves not letting you relax. Then you hear his van start up as he leaves the driveway.

You know he’ll come back. He has to. Eddie wouldn’t ditch you, he’s literally staying here with you. He wouldn’t do that… right?

You keep glancing at the clock, time ticking by as you wait for him to return. 10 minutes turns to 20, 20 to 40.

As the old clock on your nightstand is about to hit midnight something hits your window. You nearly jump out of your own skin as your head snaps towards it. Then another.

And another.

Pebbles.

Wait- pebbles?

Getting up from your bed, you go to your window, looking out to see the metal head of your dreams standing down below, the moon light reflects on his eyes as he looks up to see you there. You notice the few tiny rocks still cupped in his hand.

Was he throwing rocks at your window?

You open the glass that separates you from the cold air, instantly getting a chill as you lift it and stick your head out.

“Eddie? Why are you throwing rocks at my window?”

“I wanted to do that right.”

“What-?”

“Lady (y/n) of the house of Emerson, will you do me the honor of giving me your company on this cold night?” Eddie smiles at you, all teeth as if he’s proud of himself.

You can’t help but feel the butterflies flutter through your stomach as you remember the first time he did this, taking you to their concert when you were 16. The context was different then, a boy taking his best friend’s little sister to see their band. But this time you are his damsel, without the distress and needing saving. But his, nonetheless.

“I would be honored to accompany you, Lord Edward of house Munson.” You can’t help but giggle, hoping the blush on your cheeks isn’t noticeable to him. But he notices.

You grab your jacket, slipping out of your window just like you did back then, climbing down the cold sturdy vines that line the outside wall of your house.

He catches you just like he did all those years ago, easing you down to the ground. But this time he gives you a small kiss, cupping your face before taking your hand in his and leading you past the yard of your house. To your surprise you realize he parked down the street, as if trying to not gain suspicion from your family.

He leads you to the passenger side, and you can’t help but giggle as he opens the door for you, bowing down with a dramatic “My lady.”

“Thank you,” you hop into the car, buckling up as he shuts the door for you. He scurries his way around the front of the van and into the driver’s seat of the car.

Although he doesn’t play music, the drive is far from quiet. You two giggle and chat back and forth, and you can’t help but feel comfortable. Eddie has always been someone who has tried to make you feel safe around him, and tonight is no exception.

After about a 20 minute drive, Eddie parks the van. Glancing around you don’t recognize the scenery around you.

“Where are we?” You ask him, looking out the window to see the rows of trees that line your sight.

“Lover’s lake. I… I’ve never actually taken anyone here before, believe it or not. But I know it was a big spot when we were in high school.” You can’t help but feel the warm traces of heat rush up to your cheeks, grazing your skin with the ignites of something unknown.

Lover’s Lake?

“You’ve… never brought anyone here?” You ask, a little shocked at the admission. You know Eddie wasn’t… how do you say… everyone’s cup of tea…? But surely he had his share of girlfriends or at least flings in high school.

“No, I mean… I had… experiences in high school, but never brought anyone here. Mostly it was the bathroom stalls at the Hideout after shows.” Eddie mumbles the last part, blabbering to himself. You know by now he never means to, he just can’t help it when he gets nervous.

“I’ve… never had any experiences.” You respond, giving him a shy smile. He matches your smile before gesturing towards the back of the van.

You hesitate before squeezing through the two seats, shoving yourself into the bed of the van. After an abrupt landing, you glance at the arrangement around you. Pillows, blankets, it’s comfy, warm, a stark contrast to the sharp crisp air outside. When you turn back, Eddie is already next to you, fluffy one of the pillows.

“So… um…” you hesitate, nervous for the eventual activities that will happen. “How do we start…”

“Well, we can just kiss for a bit first, and slowly lead into it.” Eddie scoots a little closer to you, his body heat radiating off of him, covering you in a warmth of anticipation.

He leans closer to you, placing his fingers under your chin, tilting you to face him. Eddie’s lips press to yours in a soft kiss that sends butterflies through you. You lean into it, lifting your hand to his cheek. He pulls away just a bit, leaving you a bit breathless.

“You’re really pretty, I hope you know that.” His voice is deeper than usual, huskier almost. It sends a heat to your core that you’ve never felt before.

Leaning forward again, he kisses you once more, shifting his body so he’s more turned towards you. After a few kisses, it becomes more intense. The once soft kisses turn heated and passionate, your hands cling to his clothes, grabbing at his shirt and jacket.

Your hands glide under the leather fabric, pushing it off his shoulders for him. He doesn’t pull away from you, but he shifts his arms back to allow the coat to fall into the floorboards of the van’s backseat. When the restraints of the added weight are gone, Eddie leans more forward, placing his whole palm on the side of your neck, his fingers long enough to reach into your hairline on your nape, his thumb pushing your jaw upwards.

His kisses feel hot and heavy, almost desperate. He pulls away only to leave a kiss on the corner of your lips before trailing down your jaw and neck, the opposite side of his hand.

You take in a deep breath, suddenly aware of how little oxygen you were getting. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at the metal head as he pulls the coat off your shoulders. Your breath hitches when you feel him suck on your neck, a soft moan leaving your lips as your hands grip at his shirt.

“Ed- Eddie-!” You’re trapped, your throat in between his hand and head. You don’t mind it, the feeling of his tongue swiping across your warm skin; the way his free hand grips at your thigh doesn’t go unnoticed either.

After a moment, Eddie pulls back, looking at the masterpiece he has left on your neck, the hickeys slowly turning more red. He leaves a soft kiss on one of the more purple ones, a ping of guilt tugging at him as he does so.

He knows it doesn’t hurt, if anything, he hopes you enjoyed it being left there as much as he did.

Eddie pulls back from you, taking the hem of his shirt in his hands before slipping the cotton fabric over his head. You’ve seen him shirtless a few times by now, mostly before bed or when he gets out of the shower in the mornings after he’s stayed over. But this is different. It feels more intimate.

“Oh…” the sound leaves you before you can realize. You see the little grin that tugs at his lips.

“Oh?” Eddie sits back into some of the pillows, leaning his head against the wall of the van. “Like what you see, Sweetheart?”

You don’t know what came over you. A simple surge of confidence, maybe?

You crawl over to him, climbing into his lap. You watch those warm brown eyes widen a bit, taken aback by your sudden forwardness. But he’s eating it up nonetheless. He’s got you right where he wants you and he intends to make this night perfect for you.

“I love what I see,” you bat your eyelashes at him as your hands move up to the top button of your flannel, unbuttoning it slowly as you make eye contact with Eddie.

“Do you like what you see?” You ask as you do a few more buttons, revealing a light pink lacy bra. Eddie’s eyes dart to it, desperate to see what’s underneath but he’s going to wait until you’re ready.

“Love,” he says, the word slow, like it has more meaning than it should. “But I think you’d look good in nothing at all.”

Together, you unbutton your shirt until it’s open, only your bra on display as Eddie pushes it off your shoulders and it falls behind you.

Eddie gently lies you down on the bed of the van and slowly unhooks your bra as he does so, tossing it to the side as a dramatic leaves his mouth.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says as he goes to unbutton your jeans, pulling them down slowly but with force. Once they’re off, he spreads your legs wide, noticing that there’s a wet patch on your underwear and feels himself getting even more hard as he sees how wet he’s gotten you.

He lowers his head down to your cunt and your eyebrows furrow as you try to figure out what he’s doing. He grabs onto the waistband of your panties with his teeth and pulls down slowly, and once they’re off, he pockets them and he spreads your legs even wider, seeing that you’re so wet that your slick has run down your legs.

“W-what are you doing?” You ask, leaning up to see exactly where he’s going.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, his brown eyes going all soft.

“Of course I do,” you nod and he grins wide.

“Then lie back and enjoy the ride, princess,” he winks then moves his face towards one of your thighs, placing his tongue on it and swiping up, wanting to get every last bit of your slick.

He then moves on to the other one, quicker this time as he’s eager to get on with the main event. He places your legs on his shoulders then dives in shamelessly, the only thing on his mind being your pussy and how delicious he knows it is.

His tongue flattens against your slit and he moves it up and down as your hands move to his hair, a sound you’ve never made before escaping your mouth.

It’s a mixture between a moan and a whine and Eddie continues as he likes what he’s hearing. He’s not being precise, the whole thing sloppy as he wants to taste every inch of your cunt, wanting every part of it underneath his tongue.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s done this as he’s forgotten just how much he enjoys doing it. With you, it’s different. He’s never done anything like this with a virgin, and goddamn is he going to make it memorable for the both of you.

“E-Eddie, oh my god,” you moan loudly, giving Eddie’s hair a yank as you do. This is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before and now you’re addicted, wondering just how long you can last.

He pushes his tongue inside you and you tense, the sensation is so foreign, but you like it, love it even as he pushes his tongue inside and out of you swirling it around.

His tongue hits just the right spot and you’re moaning again, this time, your back arching as you do, grabbing onto his hair for dear life.

Your thighs press against the sides of his head as you reach your orgasm, the prettiest moans Eddie’s ever heard falling from your lips. Just when you think it’s over, Eddie pushes your legs back open, going in for seconds, wanting another taste of you as his tongue moves faster, trying to get you to that high again.

He removes his tongue and their replaced with his fingers, pumping them a little slower as his mouth goes for your clit, his tongue doing most of the work as he licks and sucks, taking his time with it.

“Eddie, fuck,” you whine and he goes in with his teeth, biting down with just enough pressure to get you to make that pretty sound again. “Yeah, just like that,” you tell him and he does it again, harder this time as his fingers move just a little faster, just enough to overstimulate you.

Another orgasm courses through you, but Eddie’s not quite finished. He just needs one more taste and he’ll be good. He swirls his tongue around your clit one more them then removes his fingers, leaning up to make eye contact with you as he puts his fingers into his mouth, giving them a suck before removing them with a loud pop.

Once you’ve come down, Eddie leans over you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips then leans back as you whine for more.

“Sorry, did you need something?” He asks, his tone nothing but teasing. “I just gave you your first and second orgasm and now you’re whining for kisses? I really have created a monster.”

“Eddie, please,” you beg with a roll of your eyes.

“Let’s not get greedy now, baby. Or else I might have to punish you.”

“Punish me, how?” You ask, genuinely curious, wanting to know what he’s referring to, wondering if he’ll give an example.

“I’ll show you next time,” he says as he goes to unbutton his own pants and as soon as they’re off, you see the outline of his cock through his underwear. He takes them off slowly and you’re unsure what to make of it. Sure, you had maybe seen one in a movie or two, but never in real life and never this close.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet, removing a condom from it and he tosses his wallet behind him, the whole thing completely abandoned for the beautiful woman in front of him.

He removes his underwear and removes the condom from the packet before rolling it on. He then takes no time to spread your legs again, slowly inserting himself, little by little so you can get used to the feeling. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, especially not for your first time.

He watches you wince as he moves inside, understanding that this is something that you’ve never done and he’ll go as slow as he needs to. As long as you’re comfortable, he’s happy.

“Is this okay?” He asks, looking down at you, then where you’re connected, seeing that he’s only put so little of himself inside.

“It’s good,” you nod. “It’s good. You can do a little more.”

He does as you say then begins to pump, the slowest and most gentle he’s ever done, watching your face the whole time to make sure that you’re okay. You’re moaning already so he takes that as a good sign.

He picks up the pace ever so slightly and you’re eating it up, moaning and whining as you grab onto his back, burying your face into his neck because you can’t handle him looking at you so intently anymore.

“You’re doing so good, angel,” he says his thrusts pick up just a little more. “Make some more of those pretty sounds for me, hm?” He asks as his arms moved underneath you, pulling your chest to his. He just wants to hold you while you share this intimate moment.

He’s enjoying it, but a part of him wants to fuck you until you can’t walk the next morning. He knows you can take it all and he wants to try and see how much will fit as he fucks you so hard that the van will shake.

But he can’t. He won’t, because this is your first time and he wants to make it special for you. He didn’t get that for his so it’s even more important that makes this something you remember fondly for the rest of your life.

He picks up the pace just a little more and he can tell you’re almost there, just one more push and-

“I love you,” is what comes out of your mouth and everything freezes. You both pause, unsure what the next move is and now you’re panicking that you’ve done something wrong as he stares down at you, his mouth wide open in shock.

Without a word, he’s pounding into you with so much force that you feel your brain turn to mush. You’re goo in his arms and all you can do is clench around him, wondering where this Eddie has been the entire night.

You’d never tell him, but this was what you had been wanting from the very beginning. It was sweet that he was trying to be accommodating, but you know Eddie well enough that he’s never been the kind of guy to “make love”. The kind that’s sweet and gentle, filled with murmurs of sweet nothings and soft touches.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you say again and Eddie’s going even harder now, making your back arch.

Without a warning, Eddie’s hand wraps around your neck squeezing tightly and you can slowly feel yourself being unable to breathe. He’s unsure at first if you like it, but feeling your cunt clench around his cock, he’s sure.

He holds you there, wishing so badly he had a camera to capture this moment, something just for him to look at when he needed a little encouragement.

Just when he thinks you’re going to pass out, he lets up, his hand favoring your thigh as he knows he can squeeze it as much as he wants and he not so secretly, desperately wants to leaves marks all over your body. And he intends to.

His fingers dig into your thigh as he sees you reaching another high, spreading your legs even wider so he can get all of himself in for one last thrust. He watches you as the last few inches are in, your bodies now fully connected, and now he just wants to see how long you can hold out as you’re riding your orgasm.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you moan as your nails scratch down his back, already feeling fucked out, but you can’t give up now, not when it’s gotten so good.

You’re almost drunk when Eddie pulls out and lets you come down from your orgasm as his lips press to your collarbone, nothing but gentle kisses all along it, light nibbles before he’s leaving straight up hickeys wherever he can, wanting to mark up your body so you know exactly who it belongs to. Even though he’s pretty sure you already know.

Once he’s done, he lies back on the floor of the van, pulling you with him as he covers the two of you up with a random blanket he had lying back there.

his hands run through your hair as he hums a song you’re not familiar with, the only thing on your mind now is that you told him that you loved him, during sex. You feel so embarrassed that you don’t think you can look him in the eye again. Especially not after he didn’t say it back.

“You-“ you try to say, but cut yourself off. “You never responded.”

“To what?” He asks, his voice soft as he tries his best to look down at you, his hand still combing through your hair.

“To me telling you that you love me.” You sit up, now looking at him, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Oh god, you don’t love me do you? Just say it, I can handle it.” But as you’re speaking, you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to see how he’s looking at you.

“Hey,” he says softly, as if he’s speaking to a spooked animal. “Hey,” this time a little more rough as he pulls your hand away from your face. “I love you,” he says, looking you dead in the eyes as he presses a kiss to your wrist. “I love you,” he repeats, going for your other wrist.

He then takes your face in his hands and presses his lips to yours in a passionate kiss, pouring every single bit of love for you he has into it.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips before pulling you to his chest, holding you there so you can hear his heart, the thing that only beats for you.

The sun is already up when you get back to your house, both you and Eddie gliggle amongst yourselves as you enter the front door. Eddie presses a kiss to your kiss bitten lips, getting a little handsy as they slide up your shirt. Just as he goes to unhook your bra once again, a lamp flicks on and the two of you jump away from each other, Eddie accidentally biting your bottom lip in the process. Eddie's cheeks go pink and you press your fingers to your bottom lip as you turn to see your mother sitting in her favorite chair, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

She's dressed in her robe, her legs crossed with a book in her lap. It's not uncommon for her to be up early in the morning, but something is off about this time. It's almost as if she was waiting up for you. And the way she crosses her arms over her chest, it's obvious that she was. You don't know why you're embarrassed now at the state of both of you and Eddie. Your clothes are all rumpled and Eddie's hair is an absolute mess, lipstick smeared across his neck, accompanied by a very prominent hickey.

"What were you two doing out all night?" She asks and her tone is nothing but teasing. The three of you know exactly where you were and what you were up to and it almost seems like she's trying to embarrass you in front of Eddie.

"We were out." You're being vague because this isn't exactly something you want to talk to your mother about, especially not in front of your boyfriend who already looks embarrassed even though he'd never admit that he was. You just wish she'd drop it and let you go upstairs.

"You don't have to hide what the two of you were up to. You're adults now and you shouldn't feel like you need to sneak around me. I would have just been nice to know where you were." You're fully expecting a lecture about letting her know when you leave the house, but she suprises you when she says, "Now go get into your pajamas before the others come down," she nods towards the direction of the stairs. “We're doing presents soon and our special guest will be here any minute."

You and Eddie make a beeline for the stairs and head to your shared room. Everything is silent between you as Eddie closes the door, the two of you finally alone again. You're both getting into your matching pajamas that your mother had bought for everyone and you can't help but smile at him as he's completely oblivious to you staring at him.

You never thought you'd be here with him like this. You fully expected to spend the rest of your life dreading any and all holidays you had to spend with the Munsons' because then you'd have to see Eddie's husband or wife and be nothing but jealous the whole time. You honestly never thought that your feelings for him would be reciprocated. But here you are now, more in love than ever and the two of you were very much looking forward to the future.

You head twards the door but Eddie stops you, resting his hand on your shoulder as he gently turns you around to face him. You look up into those honey brown eyes and they're nothing but soft as he hands you a black velvet box with his free hand.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," he says as he squeezes your shoulder and you sit on the bed to open the box.

He's smiling now, so excited for you to see what's inside. He's honestly glad you're not looking at him because he’s grinning like an idiot as he watches you open the box, a gasp escaping your mouth as you do so. You remove the necklace from the box, your initals sitting pretty together on the chain as you hold it up to the light.

"Eddie," you say. "It's beautiful. I love it. Help me put it on?" You hand it to him and move your hair out of the way. Eddie lowers the chain onto your neck and attatches the end to the clasp before pressing a kiss to your neck. You let your hair down then turn to Eddie to show him what it looks like on.

"What do you think?" You ask and just by looking at him, that soft, loving look in his eyes, you already know what he's going to know what he's going to say.

"You look beautiful, baby," he gestures for you to come closer. You lean in and your lips find each other, a brief kiss before you pull away, reaching into your bag for your gift for Eddie. The two of you seem to have thought alike because you're handing him a velvet ring box.

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as he opens up the box, that stupid smirk on his lips as he takes the ring out of the box. It looks like a wedding band and it has the date of his concert where you had ran into him again engraved on the inside. His silence is making you nervous and now you're beginning to second guess yourself.

Eddie's not silent because he doesn't like your gift, he's silent because this is easily the best gift he's ever recieved. All of his past relationships have been nothing but shit and he thinks you're it for him. It warms his heart knowing that you feel the same.

"Is this a promise ring?" He asks as he puts the ring on the correct finger. He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it. You could propose to him right now and he'd say yes. That's how far gone he is for you. He loves you with everything that he is and wants to do exactly that until he takes his last breath.

"Yes," you nod. "I love you, Eddie, and I know we're not ready to take that step yet, so this is just a placeholder. So all of those women you meet on tour know that you're mine."

"You're always jealous, aren't you?" He laughs. "I'm yours and will continue to be yours as long as you'll have me."

With that, Eddie kisses you one more time then leads you down the stairs where everyone else is already gathered with the added company of Wayne who just so happened to be the special guest your mother had invited. His eyes lock on yours and he stands from the couch where he was sitting next with Gareth and Cindy. He pulls you into a tight hug, giving your back a few pats before pulling away to ruffle Eddie's hair.

Wayne has been not so secretly rooting for the two ever since the two of you crossed paths again. You are nothing but a great addition to their family and Wayne is always quick to tell you so, always thanking you for taking care of his boy. Seeing the way his nephew's face lights up when he talks to or about you, he can't help but feel his heart swell as that's what he's always wanted for him.

Ever since Gareth and Eddie became friends, Eddie was always welcome into the Emerson household and that invitaion was extended to Wayne as well. You fondly remember having dinner with the two of them as guests, everyone joking and laughing at the dining room table. You'd look at the two of them as they sat side by side, deciding that it was no wonder how Eddie was such a sweet guy when you looked at who raised him.

"Alright," your mother claps her hands together to get everyone's attention. "Now that we're all here, why don't we-" her words were cut off by Cindy letting out a groan and as soon as she stood up from the couch, all you see was her leaving a trail of water behind her as Gareth rushes her to the door.

You all hurry out the door to your separate cars to head to the hospital where your niece is about to be born. Thinking about your brother being a dad now fills you with joy, epsspecially with how much he's grown up over the years. There's still a bit of the Gareth you grew up with in there, but for the most part, he behaves differently than he previously had.

You've all grown up, you, Eddie, and Gareth, and you did it together. Well, more like Eddie and Gareth grew up together while you tried to insert yourself into their little club because of your giant crush on Eddie. But now you're apart of it, you, Eddie, Gareth, Cindy, and now the little one who was about to be born.

Thinking about your niece got you thinking about what it would be like to have a baby with Eddie. Maybe one day that dream will be a reality, but until then, you’re going to take this relationship one step at a time. You want to enjoy every second with him.

Tag list!

@cagethemunson

@spikeybatt

@cherrycolas-things

@r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e

@ali-r3n

@thepurplelovewitch

#stranger things #x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #christmas special #holiday special #part 2 #brother’s best friend #rockstar! eddie munson #rockstar! eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #rockstar!eddie munson

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onlyswan · 1 year ago

Text

summary: in which jungkook misses you before he even leaves.

idol!jungkook x reader / angst, fluff / word count: 3.7k

content/warnings: they both cry, they’re so in love and anxious of being apart 🥲 pls somebody give my babies a box of tissue damn it!!! / making out :") might be one of my favs i’ve written heh cherry koo ily

> in which masterlist!

note: hi hiii this serves as a prologue kinda to the giving up drabbles <3 and as to not confuse the timeline, this one takes place in sept 2018 and the first giving up drabble june 2019 ^^ hehe reblogs/feedback are appreciated + as always i’d love to chat abt ur thoughts 🥺

—

“i’ll call you when i arrive at the dorm, baby. let’s pack the rest of my things together, hmm?”

you hum softly in agreement, hiding your face on jungkook’s chest so he won’t see you yawn.

you’re so adorable, he thinks to himself with a grin.

matching his outfits with you in preparation for his travels has always been one of the little ways you spend quality time together. yes, you will be physically apart for most of this year and the next… but if he just pushes that fact in the back of his mind for an hour or two so he can make you laugh with his purposely horrendous choices, he thinks he may be able to leave with a lighter heart.

one last kiss is granted to your forehead, and you nuzzle your cheeks against his warm hands to cherish every ounce of his touch you can manage to steal.

you peek from the small space of the door to smile at your lover, which he then returns rife with fondness. you wave and bid your silly bye bye’s to each other, and it’s you who ultimately closes the door despite the voice in your head bewailing its protests.

it creates a clicking sound as you push it all the way, and after that, the defeaning silence fills your apartment like a toxic gas that makes it impossible to breathe. with no other soul left to witness it, your walls involuntarily come crumbling down. your eyes become blurry with unshed tears, and they fall one by one, some getting caught by your eyelashes. they hang heavy until they inevitably roll down your cheeks, as if they’re desperate not to crash and break, as if they’re horrified of their fate towards doom… much like you are.

recognizing the sensation of your weak knees threatening to give way, you lean your forehead on the hardwood to relieve some of the weight burdening your shoulders.

your chores have piled up while you were recklessly spending every second you had left with your boyfriend. you have better things to do than to cry. however, you can’t control your face that contorts to express the pain of having your heart mercilessly squeezed in your chest, tighter and tighter as the distance between you and jungkook grows, and it will only continue to do so.

you wind up as a heap on the floor, an intricate collection of love yet to be given and shards of memories calamitous and beautiful, knees hugged to your chest as you weep.

you swore you wouldn’t do this. you fucking swore you wouldn’t do this to yourself.

since losing your family, you’ve been alone, trying to survive in this world like a leaf in the eye of a storm, carried by a raging river that travels to an unknown sea. you then promised that no matter how much you affection you’ve grown to have for someone, if there comes a time that they make you feel lonely (skin-on-skin or heart-to-heart), you will be the one to walk away first. even if it hurts, even if it leaves you empty inside. for one, you’ve never liked wasting your time. you know what you want and what you need— someone who will stay within reach. your day-to-day life is far too draining for you to find the energy to beg for love and attention… and for the love of god, there’s already too many people you wish were still by your side.

your friends have witnessed you annihilate hearts and egos, leaving behind a string of jaded lovers.

but jungkook, with his bunny-like smile and endless gestures of kindness… has somehow slithered his way into a space in your heart where no one has ever been.

the apartment feels too empty with him not around. he’s not knocking rhythmically at your door from the inside to announce his arrival. he’s not in the kitchen humming songs while chopping vegetables. he’s not in the shower yelling at you because you forgot that turning on the sink makes his water cold. he’s not in the living room watching a movie on your laptop. he’s not snuggled closely with you and snoring execessively by your ear.

it’s going to be like this for a while. it’s always going to be like this, you realize.

you’re so fucking lonely.

you’ve only gotten used to him being here, and now you need to re-learn what it’s like to be without him.

you’re forced to gasp for air as you sob uncontrollably, interrupted by occasional hiccups that make your body jolt. you taste the salt in your tears as they seep into the crevice between your lips, can feel them beginning to poison your skin.

you let jungkook come too close. he slept on your bed and he learned that you’re always cold. he enveloped you in the safety of his warm embrace and you couldn’t will yourself to leave after the first time. you’ve surrendered to him the control over your body, and also your heart, which you may be breaking alongside your rule but… walking away would mean forsaking yourself.

for the first time, you are crying not because of the absence of love, but the abundance of it. humans are essentially a collection of dead stars that are brought back to life when they are consumed by the electric ache of love and yearning. you are addicted to the antidote that is the touch of another body that burns the same.

you’re free falling.

if you were to choose the cause of your madness, you would choose this.

because for the first time, you are not cursing a name, but the universe and its twisted ways. in your one-bedroom apartment, you don’t feel small; your arrogance is as big as the sun that threatens to swallow the earth whole. the empty space on your bed is now in the shape of the man who loves you.

the back of your head hits the door, and you sigh at the new predicament that presents itself to you: the fluorescent lightbulb at your doorway is flickering as if to signal its impending death.

your bad vision begs you to look away.

it’s too high. it’s too high for you to reach. jungkook isn’t here anymore.

you bury your face in your hands, another wave of tears spilling over before you could get a hold of yourself. your cries are unapologetic; you sound like a little child who got their hair pulled at the playground.

you would much rather wait for him than find a solution. you want to bear the weight of him in every possible way there is. you want to have him in mind every time you flip the light switch, because you always seem to forget that it’s dying after a long day at school.

but for now, all you can do is sit on the floor and smell his perfume on your clothes as you wait for his call.

—

jungkook is still frozen on the driver’s seat, struck with a suspicion that he left something behind in your apartment, but he can’t figure out what else there is besides his heart in the palm of your hands.

he opens up every single compartment of his backpack, but he soon carelessly discards it at the backseat because he has no idea what it is he’s even looking for.

“what is it? what is it? what is it?” he mutters absentmindedly to himself, wide doe eyes still actively darting around the car as he mulls over what could possibly be missing. “am i an idiot? am i just making things up in my head?”

but he is leaving for tour after all, it would be a big headache if he forgets to bring something important.

something important such as…

proceeding with a final inspection, he starts patting around his body, from his chest down to the pockets of his sweatpants.

“ahhh-” he makes a noise of enlightenment when he discovers one of them to be completely empty.

it then becomes vivid in his mind— the memory of him lazily setting down his wallet on your study table before he crawled on your single-sized bed as if it’s his own.

“…shit. i need to go back.”

—

he has a smirk plastered on his face as he jogs his way up to your apartment floor. radiating with pure excitement unbeknownst to himself, he even begins to skip a step with every long stride he makes across the staircase.

thanks to his forgetfulness, he found an excuse to be with you for a few minutes more.

the fourth door straight ahead, he still remembers chanting in his head the first time he visited your building on his own.

he stands before it with the intention to surprise you, but ironically, he is the one who ends up freezing in place. your muffled sobs escape through the narrow cracks of the door, and his hand slowly slips away from the handle until it drops back to his side. his vision becomes unfocused, mind going blank, only registering the shortness of his breath and the powerful punch to his gut.

that sweet, heart-fluttering smile that comforted him must’ve killed you inside.

—

“i won’t forget to call after every show.”

“that does sound nice but…” you scrunch your nose cutely. “i won’t be upset, if that’s what you’re worried about. go straight to sleep when you’re exhausted. i know you won’t have much time to rest.”

“please! you can watch me sleep too.” he pouts. “you know i always make it work. while i eat, while i shower! that won’t change. i need to see you and gain strength… or else i seriously think i won’t survive this one.”

and jungkook hopes that he’s not too much of a burden for loving you.

although, you did tell him once in passing— that anyone can be passionate, but not everyone will bravely go on stage every night to showcase those passions, even if it means testing the very limits of the human body.

“i can’t allow that to happen, can i?” you click your tongue, copying the angry frown of your boyfriend, who you find so, so, so cool.

his features soften after you pinch his soft cheek.

“your hyungs might kill me if i make their little one mope around missing me too much.”

“w-what do you mean?” he becomes flushed with embarrassment. “what kind of things do they tell you?!”

“nothing much.” your eyes shine with a glint of faux innocence. “when we were trainees, jungkook did this… since meeting you, he’s gotten more stubborn… can you tell him to wake up earlier if he plans on showering for an hour? you know, just things like that.”

“aish! jimin-hyung!” he releases a deep sigh to express his exasperation, knitted forehead not doing much to diminish the roundness of his eyes. “i bet one of them is jimin-hyung! i’m right, aren’t i? you- you’re getting too close with him! i can’t allow this- really, i- ah! no! no!”

the burst of laughter that fills the room only confirms his suspicion. you roll over on the bed to cover your face, half of your body collapsing on top of his, and you clutch your aching belly when he begins to aggressively shake you in a joking manner.

“listen, you can’t become best friends! you hear me? don’t! my secrets… what’s going to happen to them? who else can i tell them to?!”

immediately recognizing his poor choice of words once they have left his mouth, jungkook purses his lips in regret, and it’s his turn to feel his lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.

“oh, really?” you slowly sit up as you stare at him with raised eyebrows. “and what kind of secrets do you need to keep from me? huh?”

he doesn’t waste a second to reply, scrambling as to not leave any space for you to formulate more doubts in your head.

“nothing! nothing, baby!” he flashes a dreamy smile in return to your sharp glare. he gently cups the back of your head to pull you back closer, puckering his lips as he tries to meet you halfway. “come here- give me a kiss.”

you ignore his advances, moving away from him with a scoff you don’t even bother to hide. the annoyance bubbling up inside of you feels irrational, and yet you can’t stop it from controlling your body language.

his jaw slacks in disappointment. he despises being denied affection, more importantly, a kiss meant to be shared with you.

“are you mad?”

you turn your back against him, scooting closer to the edge of the bed, but jungkook doesn’t waste time in chasing after you.

“baby!” he whines, seizing your arm and tightly embracing you from the side before you can escape. “i was just joking- i promise- i swear. you’re even the first person i share my secrets with nowadays!”

you sigh in defeat, eyes fluttering shut as you allow him to caress your face and pepper your cheek with loving kisses. loud, and slightly wet, which you used to not be fond of when it came to the lovers you had before, but as for jungkook and his dewy lips, you weirdly don’t seem to mind.

“please don’t be mad.” he coos lightheartedly before ducking his head to press his lips against yours. “i don’t want us to fight before i go.”

“i’m not mad.” your reply is quiet, and it drips with hesitance. “i just don’t want to think about you having secrets while you’re away.”

you turn to communicate directly with his eyes. if you feel sick to your stomach imagining him as a person you’d never have the grace to forgive, you don’t show it.

“you understand where i’m coming from, right?”

he meekly nods.

this is another reason why he is eager to spend all his free time with you, albeit through a screen smaller than the palm of his hand, and perhaps buy you trinkets from every city that welcomes him because everything reminds him of you. he wants to give you the reassurance that he doesn’t have any plans on doing something that may hurt you. this will be excruciating, he knows, but it is also a chance to prove himself as a boyfriend worthy of your tears and sacrifices. this can’t end before it begins. he doesn’t think he’d be able to bear that. he just celebrated his first birthday with you. it hasn’t been long since you uttered the three words he’s been anxiously waiting to hear.

“i love you. please give me your trust for now… i won’t waste it. you’ll see, at the end of this, we’ll be stronger. i promise i won’t forget my responsibilities as your partner even if we’re physically apart.”

he tenderly strokes your hair, eyes filled with galaxies memorizing every inch of your face. he’s scared, too. he’s scared that he’s overestimating himself. too ambitious, too greedy for wanting both the world and the most beautiful person he has ever seen in it to love him. he’s scared of getting too exhausted. he’s scared that you won’t be there anymore when he opens his eyes.

“i will probably mope around, though, missing you too much…” he pauses, then he makes up his mind.

him getting more stubborn since he met you— it might just have some truth to it that he’s too sheepish to say out loud, especially if his members were around to hear it.

“yes, i will seriously be a handful.” he nods to himself. “so i’m already apologizing early.”

“what are those responsibilities exactly?”

“to show you that i love you!” he exclaims in a tone that screams obviously. “to make you happy, to keep you safe… to stay committed to you- yah, you already know these things!”

but still, it’s nice to hear him say it. this bed of roses is a bed of thorns; he has chosen to sleep on it with you.

you giggle heartily at the sight of his face getting flushed. “you’ve been doing a great job then, baby.”

the praise causes his doe eyes to sparkle with glee. “really?”

“really!” his heart skips a beat when you softly cup his face in your hands, wearing that kind smile he can’t help but fall in love with over and over again. “don’t worry, i won’t let you miss me too much. i have my share of the responsibilities too.”

—

he swallows the lump in his throat, shakily sitting on the floor with his back against the door. he doesn’t know how long he stays there. he only knows that it’s near sunrise because the lights across the hallways have gone out one by one.

with an elbow resting on top of his knee, he fiddles with the laces of his shoe with no rhythm or rhyme— silently crying with you, clueless as to what he should do. he didn’t learn about this in school, nor during dance practices. no one teaches you what to do when you hurt a person you love but there’s no fault to fix and apologize for.

every now and then, a tenant passes by, and he is overwhelmed with the urge to scream at them to fuck off and mind their own business.

adding to his frustration is his phone, which has been vibrating with calls and text messages. he only spares them a dismissive glance before clicking the off button. yes, he fucking knows it’s already 5am. yes, he’s still with his baby. however, he is forced to send a reply to his manager when asked if they could finish packing his luggages for him to save time. no. no, no, no.

on the other side of the door, the pitter-patter of mechanical rain tickles your ears. your nimble fingers doesn’t cease on tapping on the keyboard even as your eyes stray to the contact name above the conversation, just to make sure that it’s your boyfriend you’re texting.

to: my jungkook

babyyy the sun is about to rise

so i’m not sleepy anymore :(

you're not home yet?

wait. if you're still driving just reply later

be a good driver before a good bf for now ☺️

ohoh i don’t mind if you don't have time to call anymore. just text me rq before you take off pleaseee so i know you're safe and sound

and after the flight ofc!! 😭

i love you! ❤️

seconds later, a pounding at the door makes your body jolt in shock. you carelessly rush to stand up, the safety measure of looking through the peephole not even crossing your mind before you swing it open.

jungkook stuns you with his presence, chest heaving with every breath as he studies you in a fog of haze. your messy hair perfectly frames your pretty face. your parted lips are raw from the crime of your sharp teeth forcibly putting an end to your crying. your eyes are still damp with tears, and they shine every time the warm light hanging above your head flickers.

if you could only read his mind, you won’t have to worry about him wanting anybody else.

once again, he finds himself helplessly infatuated. why do you have to look utterly bewitching even when you cry? fuck, and your texts… how did he get so lucky? you fuel something carnal inside of him that he has difficulty putting into words.

and so, he allows his actions to speak for himself.

“jungk-” his name is interrupted with a high-pitched whimper caught in your throat. your trembling hands desperately grasp the sides of his hoodie as you stumble backwards, struggling to recriprocate the unrestrained fervour of his kisses.

he’s out of control. he has never kissed you like this before. you don’t know if he doesn’t feel your weak fists punching his chest or he just doesn’t care. you feel dizzy… dizzy, dizzy, dizzy.

you’re confused why he’s still standing at your doorway. you’re terrified of losing your balance. you’re crushing a pair of sneakers underneath the soles of your feet and it hurts. but his fingers are tightly tangled with your hair, the others playing a saccharine hymn along the keys of your spine, and for the pleasure he gives, you can endure to live with the pain.

the familiar taste of mint on his tongue is far too addictive for you not to indulge. you can’t stop craving for more of it, more of him, and you let your lungs burn.

but soon it mixes with the salt in his tears as his emotions crash on the shore like a tsunami. the seal of your lips is broken by a quiet sob, and in shame, he ends the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

“____, what do i do? i don’t want to leave.”

your heart shatters into pieces as he sniffles, voice cracking as he musters up the courage to confess to you in between.

“jungkook…”

the words of sincerity feel heavy on his tongue. he’s never been good at this; always relied on his ability to feel. in spite of that, he wants to bare all of himself to you, and he prays that you believe him when he says- “i can’t imagine my life without you anymore.”

“so don’t. you don’t have to think about things like that.” you sigh as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, subtly swaying your bodies to soothe him. “come on, love. why are you crying…? you know where to find me, don’t you?”

you feel him nod before he mumbles pensively. “here… or school, or the restobar.”

“that’s right.” you chuckle. “just don’t lose your key. i’m not going anywhere.”

but he fears it’s his goddamn mind he might just lose. he squeezes his eyes shut, embracing you tighter as he counts the seconds in his head. he will let go after thirty, then perhaps he will stay for another ten.

in another lifetime, jungkook wishes that he could tell you the same.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook one shot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

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sandwhitches · 6 months ago

Text

𝗰𝘄: mentions of cheating, slight angst

<<< back ✱ menu ✱ next >>>

When was the last time you stood up? Your legs were beginning to grow numb, knees sore and tingly against the ground as you hunched before the synthetic glow of a laptop screen. A long emptied energy drink can sat dormant on your lap, forgotten in the swarm of schemes that bounced around the walls excitedly in Suna’s bedroom.

Suna was beside you, feverishly penning down what was happening. It was a neatly lined table: the first column was for names, the second for dates, and the third for offenses.

The name of your ex-boyfriend. October 31st. Cheated on you with your friend.

The name of your friend. October 31st. Hooked up with your ex-boyfriend.

The name of Suna’s old roommate. June 17th. Took the cash out of his wallet and ran.

The name of a girl you hardly knew. February 5th. Keyed Suna’s new rustbucket for parking in “her spot.”

“Think that’s enough to start off?” He peered up at you groggily, flexing out his spent fingers with a wince. You nodded, eyes trailing the list of thirty or so names, “More than enough.” Of the names were people who had wronged you, who had wronged your friends, who had wronged friends of friends and their friends, too. It was practically untraceable.

Suna sniffed, thinking, then scooted next to you to examine his laptop screen, “Smart.”

You felt yourself flush at the subtle praise, chalking it up to the unreasonable amount of caffeine in your system, then glanced back at your work. “Well,” you murmured sheepishly, “At sight was taken.”

Rintaro rolled his eyes, a lethargic shrug following, “Dumb name, anyways, sounds too romantic.” You snickered, “What? I thought it was a good play on words. Like love at first sight, just, not…love.” You both chuckled dryly at this, slightly delusional with exhaust. It was hard to make time for this, it was even harder to plan this, and the execution was no easy feat, either.

“I like this name you picked better. Sounds kinda confrontational, ya’know?”

You licked your lips, then snapped impatiently, a queue for him to hand you the extensive list in handwriting only you seemed to be able to read at that point.

“Chicken scratch.” You muttered, earning a groan from him as his watchful eyes ensured you typed every word to a tee.

Suna was your best friend. Suna was the best of the best. The cream of the crop. The apple of your eye. The only person you think, no, you know would ever want to take things this far.

It was a little past four in the morning by the time you finished, sighing in satisfaction as he rubbed your back, “Nice.”

You turned to face him, the tips of your noses inches apart; how many times had you been this close on his floor? Too many to count, surely, but why did it feel so different lately? Especially in that moment as you both dove headfirst into your favorite secret you ever will keep. The secret you’d keep in the years to come.

“Is this a bad idea?” You mumbled abashedly, balling your sweaty palm. Suna’s expression lightened and he shrugged once more for the umpteenth time, “Maybe, but…” he clicked his tongue in thought, “we’ve wanted this for a while.”

It’s decided. You nod. This is a very good bad idea, indeed.

Turning back to the computer, you mashed around on the keyboard, deft fingers pressing at the clacking mouse on the floor, “Okay,” you sighed. “It’s live.”

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀:

✱ "THEY DID IT!!! THEY SAID THE THING!!!!" ass moment

✱ formal apology to anyone i may have unintentionally (it was slightly intentional) led to believe that they murdered someone, or, that one person who thought they were vampires (I liked that theory the best)

✱ y/n and suna are no strangers to controversy

✱ spiteful bitches who match each other's toxic freak

𝗮/𝗻: hehe sorry this is a bit late. everything is about to go to shit. also ree (who is unfortunately not here to see it, fly high!) and i looked up the actual onsight.com and it was a python coding wtv the fuck...starting a gofundme for me to buy the domain /j

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @zumicho @nectardaddy @moucheslove @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses @piopioo @lvtilzs @s777athv @localgaytrainwreck @reignsaway @savemebrazilhinata @pop-ghost @naweirdo @sunsribn @staileykout @milesmoralesluvs @chaconadine @aboutkiyoomi @m3gitsune @wizardhore @ineednanami @wakashudou @torkorpse @st4rdusttx @renkitsune @solaqes @sereniteav @eveyams @myromanempiree @saltypuffin1040 @nbcvs @gsyche @miiyas @starkyu @renardiererin @puppenpop @sleepystrwbrryy @yumiecheesecrackers @sp1ng @mfcherry @semieita24srockstargf @nanamis-right-tiddie @strawbrinkofdeath @piapiaweee3 (blogs in bold could not be tagged, please check your settings!)

taglist status: open (44/50) (please send an ask to be added)

#suna rintaro #suna rintaro smau #suna rintaro x reader #suna haikyuu #suna smau #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna drabble #hq suna #haikyuu smau #hq smau #haikyuu suna #🥊.on sight!

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lexirosewrites · 25 days ago

Note

Since we did Christmas theme last slick Sunday I’m gonna do a new years theme this week

So canon events happen EXCEPT when they first go to reefer ricks they find A!Eddie in a stress induced rut since he watched chrissy die. A stress rut/heat can be very stressful (hence the name) and last up to 5 days unless you have someone to help you through it, then it mostly just lasts 12-24 hours.

When they get there the whole bottle to the neck thing still happens but after O!Steve and B!Robin figure out what’s going on they send the kids outside and Steve and Eddie agrees to spend the rut together to make it pass faster (this is a dream come true for both of them but they’re not gonna say that). Steve lets max drive them back because there is no fucking way he’s gonna let Dustin drive his car and Robin has never driven a car so she’s not an option. Once they’ve left and it’s just Steve and Eddie alone together they get it going ya know 😏. They make a stupid “let’s not kiss” rule that lasts approximately 5 minutes and then they kiss (and fuck) each other stupid for 12 hours.

While they’re still tied together by eddies last knot Steve shyly asks if maybe Eddie would like to go to dinner once this is all over and he happily agrees. For the rest of the UD fighting they keep close and scent each other for comfort because fighting monsters is terrifying.

Eddie still gets half eaten by bats but Steve gets there in time to carry him out and drive ALL OF THEM to a hospital (everyone in this stupid group needs to be checked out you cannot convince me otherwise). Steve is extremely distressed while Eddie is in surgery but that’s his alpha! Of course he’s distressed. They give him eddies shirt while Steve gets his wounds looked at so he’ll calm down.

Once they get the news that Eddie makes it through okay Steve collapses from relief and the nurses put him in a bed in eddies room (because while most of the town might think Eddie’s a killer they know this alpha and omega need each other and they’re not gonna separate them because that would be fkn stupid).

They go through eddies recovery together because they’ve upgraded to courting by now (Eddie had to ask hopper and Claudia for permission to court their pseudo son and that was an interesting conversation).

Since so much has been going on Steve doesn’t notice until at the beginning of June how he’s having some weird cravings and is feeling kinda nauseous most days.

And while Eddie is his boyfriend and Robin is the platonic love of his life they tend to overthink and overreact and be dramatic so he goes to Claudia because she’s a nurse (and his mom) and if he’s sick he’d rather talk to a professional. So they’re sitting in the hendersons kitchen drinking tea while he’s explaining all his symptoms and Steve starts to get worried because Claudia has tears in her eyes but before Steve can overthink she just gathers him up in a hug and tells him she thinks he’s pregnant. They get a test, Steve takes it and five minutes later they’re both crying on the Henderson bathroom floor because he’s going to have a pup!

Claudia drives him to Wayne and eddies new house so he can tell his alpha and celebrate. Eddie is so happy he takes his first steps without a cane since he got hurt and Wayne is just smiling big because his boy is so happy!

(There’s another conversation with hopper where he has to come to terms with the fact that his grandkids father is gonna be the guy he buys weed from)(he gets a family discount now)

Months of relationship bliss pass where Steve and Eddie really get to know each other and become a family.

They get to celebrate Christmas with a heavily pregnant Steve and he goes in to labour 2 hours before midnight on December 31st. They celebrate their first new years together in the hospital and Eddie sneaks a new years kiss from Steve between contractions. At 4:07 am on January 1st 1987 their daughter is born happy and healthy and Steve steals a late new years kiss of his own but instead of kissing Eddie he’s kissing his first pups cheek while Eddie lovingly watches.

Who knew that week from hell could give them everything they’ve ever wanted: the love of their life and a pup to start out the new year!

Okay this got way longer than I thought but oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ hope you like it and happy new years!!!🧡

YAY A SEASON 4 FIX IT🥰

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #omegaverse #a/b/o #my asks #steve x eddie #mpreg #cw mpreg #tw mpreg

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swantales-aw0owo0 · 5 months ago

Text

Just a little something I’ve been cooking (attempting to write a secretly married hangster fic so I figured out an entire timeline pre-Tg:m cause the timeline is kinda fucked in the movies)

Bradley is born in ‘84 (June 27)

Jake is born in ‘87 (January 3)

Top gun takes place in ‘86

Carole dies in ‘96 (Bradley moves in with Ice and Mav)(he’s 12)

Bradley’s papers are pulled, he begins to attend UCSD (University of California San Diego), and he stops talking to Mav in ‘02

(College in the fall of ‘02)

Jake, Javy, and Natasha all attend the US Naval Academy in Annapolis together. Jake and Javy bunk together and become fast friends/brothers. Nat becomes friends with Javy but can’t get past Jake’s persona to get along with him. ‘05

Bradley graduates with a bachelor’s degree in PoliSci and a minor in History spring of ‘06

Bradley and Jake meet in the summer of ‘06 right before Bradley goes to flight school and after Jake’s first year at the Naval Academy in Annapolis.

Bradley then goes to Pensacola for 18 months (‘06-‘07) continuing to meet up with Jake whenever possible

Bradley gets stationed at the Naval Base San Diego from ‘07-‘08

Bradley is invited to and wins Top Gun in ‘08 before being sent to the Naval Air Station Jacksonville

Jake, Javy, and Nat all graduate from the Naval Academy in ‘08 and then spend 18 months in Pensacola for flight school (‘08-‘09)

Javy and Jake are stationed together

Nat gets stationed with Bradley who’s heard his boyfriend (husband) complaining about her and befriends her.

Jake, Javy, and Nat all attend Top Gun together in ‘09 and Bradley is sent back to NAS San Diego. This is when Nat finds out about their relationship. Jake scrapes a win at top gun, very closely followed by Nat then Javy.

December 18 ‘10 DADT is repealed

They fly up to Vermont to get married in a courthouse and then “honeymoon” in NY December 21 ‘11 after taking time off for Christmas. Javy and Nat attend as their best man/woman and witnesses

The four get stationed on the USS. George Washington where the “rivalry” between Jake and Bradley is established from their banter over comms and on the carrier. They spend 18 months there before they’re all split up. (‘11-‘12)

Over the next 8 years the four are moved around occasionally stationed with each other. Jake and Bradley have a house together in Cali (Bradley’s parents house) for any free time they have.

From ‘20 onward Jake is flying with the Vigilantes out of Lemoore and Bradley is on board the USS Theodore Roosevelt flying with the Golden Warriors.

‘22 TG:M (Bradley is 38, Jake is 35, Mav is 60)

I spent a long time on the logistics of years and math so if you see any mistakes no you didn’t <3

#bradley rooster bradshaw #hangster #icemav #jake hangman seresin #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction

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exorcqism · 6 months ago

Text

﹆₊見学‧₊˚ FIELD TRIP, AIKU OLIVER

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ taking a road trip with your boyfriend..but that’s not all. wc, 1.27K. dark mode recommended

␥ note. after two months of doing absolutely nothing besides playing minecraft and genshin impact, i got into blue lock and finished the entire thing in a week (this was in june) but i'm kinda back because this entire time i been thinking about writing..and today, i specifically wanted to write for oliver (i'm scared i never wrote for him). but my choso era never ends so they both my man now. ANYWAYYY WE ARE SO BACK. reblog to support meee and enjoyyy (btw this is NOT proof read so i apologize if there are any errors…if not..well lmk how much you enjoyed this)

␥ tags. fingering, smut, female anatomy, female reader, smoking, etc. lmk if i missed anything

␥ misc. masterlist AO3

you and oliver had been driving for hours, the endless road stretching out before you. a slight shiver ran through your body as the cool air from the air conditioning caressed your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

the landscape outside the window was a blur of greens and browns, the trees and fields merging into a tapestry of nature's colors. occasionally, a small town would appear on the horizon, only to fade away as quickly as it came.

the car was filled with a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of a snack bag. oliver's hands were steady on the wheel, his gaze focused yet relaxed. you glanced over at him, appreciating the calm determination in his eyes. the journey felt like a shared adventure, each mile bringing you closer to an unspoken destination.

as the sun began to set, the sky transformed into a canvas of oranges, pinks, and purples. the air outside grew cooler, and you pulled a light blanket over your lap, feeling its warmth contrast with the chill from the air conditioning. the soft glow of the dashboard lights added a sense of tranquility to the moment, and you couldn't help but smile at the serenity of it all.

"do you wanna stop soon?" oliver's voice broke the silence, gentle and considerate.

"maybe at the next town," you replied, your voice equally soft. "it would be nice to stretch our legs and find a place to rest for the night."

he nodded, and you both settled back into the quiet rhythm of the drive, content in each other's company as the road continued to unfold before you.

after a while, the glow of distant lights signaled the approach of the next town. as you got closer, the small town's charm became evident with its quaint houses and a few scattered shops. the anticipation of a restful night ahead filled you with a sense of calm and satisfaction, making the long journey feel all the more worthwhile.

when you both arrived at a nearby hotel, oliver parked the car and gave you a mischievous look, his heterochromatic eyes twinkling with a playful challenge. “wanna go in or stay out here for the night?”

you gave oliver a confused look, eyebrows furrowing as you processed his question. anyone in their right mind would go in the hotel, you thought, especially after such a long drive. the idea of a warm bed and a proper shower was incredibly appealing. but he never mentioned stopping at any hotels until just now, and his sudden suggestion caught you off guard.

your confused expression gradually faded, replaced by a soft smile as you finally spoke up, “i guess we can stay in here.” the prospect of spending the night in the cozy confines of the car, wrapped in blankets and sharing whispered conversations, suddenly seemed like an interesting continuation of this sudden trip.

with that, you heard the engine's gentle hum cease, leaving a profound silence filling the car. you reclined the seat you were sitting in, feeling the soft leather against your back as you stretched out and propped your feet up against the dashboard, the cool surface a stark contrast to the warmth of the blanket draped over your legs.

beside you, oliver's window was rolled down, allowing the crisp night air to flow in. you watched as a grey cloud of smoke curled gracefully from his lips, swirling and dancing in the air before drifting out of the window with each exhale. the scent of tobacco mingled with the cool night breeze, creating a momentary haze that contrasted with the clarity of the starry sky above.

oliver’s hand drifted over to your thigh, his fingers grazing your skin with a featherlight touch. his thumb began to trace gentle circles just beneath the hem of your shorts, the warmth of his hand contrasting with the cool air seeping in through the open window.

the sensation sent a shiver up your spine, each caress igniting a trail of tingling warmth that spread through your body. his touch was both tender and deliberate, a silent communication that spoke volumes in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

it wasn’t long until you and oliver found yourselves in the backseat, a tangle of limbs and fervent whispers. his movements were slow and deliberate, each touch a calculated stroke that sent waves of desire coursing through you.

his hands explored the contours of your body, fingers tracing the delicate curves of your sides with an almost reverent tenderness. the roughness of his facial hair grazed your skin, each kiss a mix of gentle passion and raw intensity.

oliver's lips met yours with a fervent hunger, the intensity of his kisses leaving you breathless. he moved from your mouth to your neck, his kisses becoming rougher, more insistent. the coarse texture of his chin tickled your skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in its wake.

as he sucked and nibbled on the sensitive flesh of your neck, you felt a mixture of pain and pleasure, each mark he left a testament to his desire. the reddish-purple bruises blossomed under his touch, a map of his affection painted across your skin.

without hesitation, his hands slid beneath your pants, fingers deftly unbuttoning and unzipping them. with deliberate slowness, he began to peel the fabric away from your skin, the rough denim sliding down your legs.

the sensation of your underwear following suit, gliding down to join the discarded pants on the car floor, left you exposed and vulnerable. the cool air brushed against your newly bared skin, heightening your senses and amplifying the anticipation thrumming through your veins.

slowly, oliver inserted two fingers into your core, the deliberate pressure and gradual intrusion sending shivers of intense pleasure through your body. he began to pump them in and out with a rhythmic precision, each movement igniting a cascade of sensations that left you breathless.

the warmth of his fingers contrasted with the cool night air, heightening the electric connection between you. with every thrust, waves of ecstasy coursed through you, eliciting uncontrollable moans that filled the intimate space of the car. you writhed beneath him, your body arching and trembling, fully surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure he was orchestrating.

instinctively, your nails dig into oliver’s shoulder, leaving crescent-shaped imprints on his skin as you throw your head back against the car door. your legs remain spread obediently, trembling slightly, as oliver's ministrations send ripples of pleasure coursing through you.

each gasp and moan that escapes your lips only seems to spur him on, creating an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure that leaves you teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

as the rhythm of his movements intensified, you felt yourself reaching the precipice of release. the tension coiled within you like a spring, ready to snap at any moment. with a final, shuddering gasp, you were sent tumbling over the edge, waves of bliss crashing over you in a symphony of pure sensation.

your body trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. oliver held you close, his fingers still inside you, offering a gentle pressure as your heartbeat gradually began to slow.

the intimacy of the moment enveloped you both, the cool night air mingling with the warmth of your shared passion. slowly, oliver removed his fingers, the sticky mess stretching from your core to the tips of his fingers and around his digits.

“maybe we should’ve went in the hotel, yeah?”

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marvelstan0905 · 7 months ago

Text

Random Kenji Sato Boyfriend Headcanons:

TW : fluffy/slight angst/ idk what else lmao

"Small Gestures"

Kenji is the king of small gestures. This man be peeling your oranges. Feeding you. If you have your menstrual days, Kenji keeps a stack of pads, wet wipes, tampons and clean menstrual cups everywhere and in the car. Kenji is the type to keep notifications on when you have your days or when your ovulating [do with that information what you will😈]

"Communication"

We all know what happened in the movie. We all know that Kenji rarely cries and he holds in his feelings till eventually he kinda bursts. With you, yes you, the best partner, you'd kinda have to coax it out of him. Get him to tell you what's bothering or what's wrong. It would take a lot of patient and understanding. Kenji would really try is damndest to communicate despite his habits.

"Intimacy"

Kenji would be really patient and understanding when it comes to sex and intimacy. The man would praise and worship you all night. We all know this man would be the type to pin your hands above your head and make you look into his eyes. I definetly feel like a Kenji is a hard dom/brat tamer kinda guy. I can definetly see the daddy kink coming. He's definetly an equal giver and receiver. Man's is definetly kinky and I definetly feel like he'd very open to try anything, long as he's in control. And his aftercare is top tier. The hot bath and cuddles with loving affirmations.

"Love & Marriage"

Don't know why, Kenji gives off 'dating to marry' vibes. The man's been distant with everybody, keeping people away at an arm's leg but after finally finding that perfect person. Kenji is all the way. He's commited. Forever. As in you won't shake him off ,even if you try [you wont😑]. He's the most loyal sweetheart and baby ever. Hurting our man here is like killing a puppy. Don't do it. I feel like he'd dead deadass get a tattoo with your name and the date of your birthday. That's how commited he is.

"Chivalry"

I'm talking opening doors, sliding out chairs. Kenji will hold your hand when you go down the stairs and when you're sitting down just to make sure you're safe and make sure you sit nicely. If you wear a skirt and it's cold, he'll lay his jacket on your legs. If you're cold in general his jacket is yours. His arms are yours. He just wants to make sure you're warm and happy. God forbid, it rains. Kenji won't even allow you outside because he doesn't want you to get cold but if you were already outside. You'd have most of the umbrella.

"Clinginess & Attention"

Clingy. He'll never ever let you go. Once you're his, you're trapped and commited [a dream ,really😌] Kenji would always find some time of way to be touching you. Somehow. His pinkies linked with yours or you're feet are touching. He just needs the contact. He's a clingy, baby. He needs your attention and love. He's been deprived🥺 give him the attention he deserves.

-What do you guys think? I've decided to open up requests but they'll be open starting 26 June at 5PM [MT ] up until 28th June 1PM [MT].I don't want to be overwhelmed or swapped!I've been feeling a little burned out nowadays hehe so I need to recuperate! Speaking of requests, If I don't feel like I can do it or it's just something I'm not comfortable with ,I will delete your ask! I'm sorry! Thank you so much for the love and support!

Gif credit @soranatus

#emi ultraman #ken sato #ken sato x reader #kenji sato #kenji sato x reader #ultraman 2024 #ultraman rising #ultraman #kenji sato masterlist #ultraman masterlist #kenji sato headcannons

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babydollmarauders · 1 year ago

Text

WYD NOW? — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!singer!reader

summary: in which y/n writes a song about her ex-boyfriend, 3 years after their breakup, and it gets back to him, leading to their reconnection

notes: inspired by the song WYD Now? by Sadie Jean. ending kinda sucks, but ehh i did my best. pretty sure i lost motivation for this halfway through it, but i tried to power through.

not my gif

*** JUNE 17TH, 2018 ***

“i bet, at this time in a few years, we’ll be painting the walls of our shared apartment.” my boyfriend’s whisper rings through my ears as i turn my head to look at him.

heat rises to my cheeks, Jack’s blue eyes gazing into mine.

“yeah?” i laugh, running a hand through his hair, still damp from the shower he took before coming over.

“mhm.” he hums in confirmation, his hand snaking up under the stolen shirt that adorns my body, gripping my waist and pulling me closer. “i’ll be playing hockey, and you’ll be a big pop star, my little songbird.”

i bury my face into his neck in attempt to hide the redness on the apples of my cheeks from the nickname.

“you gonna write songs about me?” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the side of my head.

“i already do.” i murmur, my lips brushing against his collarbone, causing him to shiver.

*** JULY 30TH, 2019 ***

“i don’t think i understand.” it feels like my head is underwater, my lungs burning for oxygen, but unable to receive it.

“we can still be friends, y/n. you can call me whenever.” Jack sits on my bed, gripping my hands in his hold. “the future is just, so far away and we don’t know what’ll happen.

“i don’t want my dreams to hold you back from achieving yours, y/n. you may not see it right now, but this just seems like the best option for now. and maybe, down the line, once we’re both at a stable place in our careers, if we’re both single, we can revisit us.”

my head is bobbing ‘yes’ but my heart is screaming ‘no!’

it’s like my brain understands where he’s coming from, that he’s being logical and that he’s doing this for the greater good of both of us; no matter what we’ve always thought, we’re still just kids, we were dreaming. but my heart isn’t getting that message. all my heart knows is that it’s being crushed into a thousand pieces and it feels pretty unsalvageable right now.

“are you okay?”

it’s my instinct to tell him ‘yes’. my instinct to not let him know how much he’s really hurting me. how much i want to scream that we’ll be fine. that i would give up my dream to be by his side while he accomplishes his. but i know that would just hurt him; because that isn’t what he wants.

he may be hurting me, but he’s doing it for all the right reasons. he doesn’t want me to push my dreams aside for his, because he wants to see me living them. he wants the best for me.

“yeah, i’m okay. i understand.”

*** PRESENT: SOCIAL MEDIA ***

y/nonthegram

liked by tatemcrae and 246,517 others

y/nonthegram in your faded t-shirt

that i’ve kept this long

i still hear you laughing

Load more comments

user13 NEW LYRICS??

user92 that’s what i was thinking too! seems too poetic to just be a caption

trevorzegras hey that looks familiar

user57 OH MY GOD NEW MUSIC?

user04 AHHH ANNOUNCE A NEW ALBUM PLEASE

user6 I’LL EVEN JUST TAKE A NEW SINGLE! I JUST NEED NEW MUSIC

tatemcrae my best friend writes the best captions

y/nonthegram MY best friend writes the best songs

tatemcrae says you!

user83 new love song? break-up song? both?

colecaufield what’s this 👀

y/nonthegram

liked by trevorzegras and 283,752 others

y/nonthegram surprise! ‘WYD Now?’ out tonight at midnight.

wholly written in my bedroom at 2am, this song means the absolute most to me, and i hope some of you can find comfort in it like i have <3

Load more comments

user04 OH MY GOD! THANK YOU FOR BLESSING OUR EARS TONIGHT!

colecaufield so proud of you!

y/nonthegram thank you, coley ♥️

user94 since when does she know nhl players?

user63 she went to high school with some of the 2019 draft class

user72 I CAN’T WAIT OMG

user18 SHAKING, CRYING, THROWING UP! I’M SO EXCITED

_alexturcotte our little melody makin’ munchkin, making moves!

y/nonthegram oh god please don’t bring back “melody makin’ munchkin”

_alexturcotte too late

tatemcrae GO BEST FRIEND THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND

y/nonthegram LEMME KISS YOUR FACE!! MWAH!!

user55 i’m so curious to hear these lyrics 😭 how am i gonna wait 8 more hours?!

jackhughes

liked by y/nonthegram and 352,850 others

jackhughes 3/3

Load more comments

user77 hey wait, didn’t @/y/nonthegram date Jack in high school? is the new song yesterday about him?

user55 yess! it’s gotta be!

trevorzegras dizzyyy

user91 you should go listen to y/n’s new song 👀

user02 have you heard ‘WYD Now?’ ???

user36 omg he remembered to post 3/3

colecaufield same time next summer? 🫡

subbanator 🚀

y/nonthegram

liked by jackhughes and 227,951 others

y/nonthegram i’m so grateful for all the love on ‘WYD Now?’ these past couple days! thank you all! <3

here’s some photos @/tatemcrae took at our song celly night last night to celebrate the release of WYD Now? and greedy!

in celebration, i’ll be answering some questions in the comments!

Load more comments

user74 is the song fictional? or was it inspired by someone?

y/nonthegram not fictional <3

user99 is this a single off the upcoming album? or just a normal song?

y/nonthegram the album is still being written, so i can’t confirm or deny if this is a single because i’m not sure yet if it’ll be on the track list! <3

colecaufield omg y/n please come to Montreal! i love you so much! you’re my idol!

y/nonthegram hey remember that time i bumped you with my car? i think we should do that again! i’ll stomp on the gas this time!

colecaufield omg you noticed me!!

user42 at 18, where did you imagine yourself being at this age?

y/nonthegram New Jersey <3

trevorzegras where did he set the bar?

y/nonthegram above the moon

user28 if the song isn’t fictional, then who’s it about?

user96 it’s 100% about jack hughes. if you scroll way down on her page, there’s pics of her and jack in high school, but they stop when they were 18. then he moved to new jersey and now he’s playing hockey, like the song states “you finally got the job you like”. that we’re all aware of, she didn’t have any other boyfriends in high school. she and jack seemingly dated from ages 16-18 until he left for the NHL

liked by y/nonthegram

_quinnhughes 💙

user10 this song was amazing! i really related and it made me feel so seen!

user88 big question is: has jack heard the song yet?

jackhughes call me?

user98 @/user88 if he hadn’t, i’m guessing he has now

*** PRESENT: REAL LIFE ***

my heart races as the notification comes through.

i wasn’t sure if he listened to my music, or if the song would get back to him. i just needed to get my feelings down on paper, and then it turned into a song, and then i liked it too much to not release it.

the night i wrote it, i had played a small show in New York, and i could’ve sworn i saw him in the back of the venue. of course, i knew it wasn’t, but it had rattled me; bringing all my feelings for him back to the forefront of my brain.

“call him.” my head snaps up to face my best friend, her eyes soft as she looks at me from the doorway.

“i-” Tate cuts me off with a shake of her head.

“don’t make excuses, y/n. call him.” she repeats, “you deserve to be happy, and from what you’ve told me, he makes you happy.”

she doesn’t stick around; instead bidding me goodbye and heading back to my guest room to give me some privacy.

i pace my bedroom, iphone clutched in my hand. his contact is pulled up, but i can’t seem to build up the nerve to call him. though, it seems i don’t have to, because my phone begins to ring instead, Jack’s photo displaying on the screen.

“hi.” i breathe out, pressing the phone to my ear.

“hi.” he repeats. “i heard your new song. i’m so proud of you, my little songbird.”

my face heats up, blood rushing to my cheeks. i haven’t heard that nickname in almost four years.

“thank you.” my words come out a whisper, still in disbelief that i’m talking to him again.

“did you mean it?” the question causes a panic to erupt in me, swarms of butterflies erupting in my nervous system.

“did i mean what, Jacky?” i need him to say it.

“what you wrote,” he clears his throat, “in the song. did you mean it all? do you still think of me? do you really wanna try again?”

laying sprawled out on my bed, i stare up at the ceiling as i speak.

“i wouldn’t have written it if it wasn’t true.”

“oh- okay. so, uh,” he stutters, but i can hear the smile on his lips, causing the same reaction upon my own face, “where are you right now?”

“um, my apartment?” my brows thread together in confusion, but he just chuckles.

“i mean like, are you living in LA? are you home in Michigan? what state?”

“oh.” i bite my lip, squeezing my eyes shut in embarrassment. “i live in New York, Jack.”

“really?” his voice is emotionally distant and seemingly hurt. “so close?”

“yeah.” i nod, although he can’t see me. “i’ve gone to a few of your games.”

“you did?”

“mhm.” i hum in confirmation. “i just- i didn’t wanna be the one to reach out and then have you think oddly of me or have you already be in a relationship or something. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you, i just didn’t wanna be seen as that clingy ex-girlfriend or anything.”

“that’s not what you are, y/n.” he sighs, “would you wanna meet up soon? catch up? i’d love to hear about your glamorous new pop star life.”

“i’d love to. although, i wouldn’t call myself a pop star, Jacky.”

“you are to me.” i blush at his words, glad he can’t see how much of a mess i am at the moment. “are you free on saturday? i have practice in the morning, but after that, maybe we could go to lunch?”

“yeah, i can do that.” i confirm.

“okay great, i’ll text you on friday to hash out details?”

“sounds great!” my cool hand rises to press against my heated face in attempt to cool myself down.

“great. i gotta go, Luke and i are going out with the guys. i’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”

“yeah. bye, Jack.” i wait for him to repeat a goodbye before hanging up, burying face in my pillow and letting out a muffled scream.

***

my knee bounces underneath the table of the New York City diner, my hands clasped together on the table.

Jack should be here any minute, and saying i’m nervous would be an understatement. my palms are clammy, my legs won’t stop shaking, and i’m eighty percent sure that i have no skin left on my bottom lip because i’ve chewed it all off.

the little bell above the door rings and my head snaps up to look, but it’s just a young couple with their toddler. i send a friendly smile to the tired looking mother before looking back down at my hands that won’t stop fidgeting.

i zone out, retreating back into my head and all the thoughts that have been plaguing me since we planned this meeting.

what if he doesn’t like me anymore?

what if he has a girlfriend and he’s just trying to be nice?

or worse, what if he’s just asked me here so he could tell me to leave him alone? to stop writing songs about him.

“hi.” i’m pulled out of my thoughts by Jack sliding into the booth across from me, a gentle smile on his face.

his hand snakes across the table to hold mine, and i can’t help but feel like a teenager again, back when we used to have dates like this all the time; where he would hold my hand over the table and we would laugh and joke around for hours.

“hey.” i smile back, giving his hand a small squeeze in return.

“how are you?” he questions. he brings his hand back in order to hold his menu, but his focus remains on me, not even glancing down at the menu yet.

“i’m good!” i nod. “how are you?”

“good, i’m glad. i’m good too.”

we’re interrupted by a waitress, taking a second to look over our menu’s before giving her our orders.

once she retreats, i squirm from the small talk, never having been any good at it. which Jack seems to remember.

“so, how’s the pop star life?” he smirks teasingly, and i giggle.

“not a pop star.” i remind him, shaking my head. “but it’s good. i like where i’m at right now in my career. i like having a strong fanbase but still being unknown enough that i’m not being hounded on or followed like, say, Taylor Swift.

“i’m able to just write my music and put it out, go on small tours, interact with my fans on a more personal level; it’s really nice. i don’t know if i would want it to be more than that.”

he nods in understanding, a wide grin on his face as he listens.

“i get it. and i’m really glad you’ve achieved what you wanted. i’ve always rooted for you.”

“what about you? mr. ninety-nine point season!” he blushes at my words, shaking his head and looking down at his hands, which rest on the tabletop. “how’s that?”

“it’s good! really good.” he looks back up at me, and i have to fight myself from getting lost in his eyes like i would when we were seventeen. “i love it. it’s hard, it’s a lot of work, but it’s amazing. and honestly, i’m pretty glad i’m not on a canadian team. i like that i can go out and still have a pretty normal life outside of hockey, ya know? not be stopped on the street a bunch.”

“yeah, i get it.” i tell him. “i’m so glad you’re happy though. you play great, as you always have.”

he releases a ‘thanks’ before a silence settles over us, neither of us sure what exactly to say next.

i begin to play with the paper wrapper from my straw, winding it around my finger before sliding it off and gently pulling it straight again.

“so, Cole sends me your songs.”

snap! the paper wrapper breaks in two as i look up at him.

“he does?”

“yeah. you know i don’t get on social media too much, so i don’t always know right away when you put one out, but Cole sends me all of them. just in case i miss one.” he explains.

my head bobs up and down as i try to display a level of cool, “oh.”

“that doesn’t bother you, does it?” he asks. “that i don’t always listen to them right away?”

“not at all! i didn’t really think you listened to them at all.” i confess, sinking lower into the booth. “not really your genre.”

he smiles gently, reaching forward to hold my hand tightly in his.

“y/n, you could write a children’s nursery rhyme, and i would still listen to it.”

my head tips back against the booth, joyous laughter spilling from my lips. my nose scrunches, resulting in a small snort, which cause him to laugh as well.

“you’re just saying that.” i choke out, and he shakes his head.

“no! i’m serious! i would!” Jack insists, right as the waitress arrives with our food. she sets our food in front of us, making sure we’re all set before she retreats.

a comfortable small talk takes over as we eat; discussing our friends and their accomplishments since graduation.

“you remember that time,” Jack starts through broken laughter, “that you hit Cole with your car because he said he didn’t think it would hurt?”

“yes! and i barely even tapped him, but the big baby whined that it hurt so bad, i may have crushed his NHL dreams!” my face hurts from smiling so big, but i can no longer fight it.

“and then he was fine and back to practice that afternoon! not even a bruise left on him!” he retorts.

“ever the dramatic, Cole is.” i sigh, sitting back in my seat from position slouched over the table.

“since we’re walking down memory lane, do you remember how i said that maybe down the line, we could revisit us?”

i’m sobered up now, my smile gone as i eye him. he’s playing with his bracelets, a sign of nerves from him, and i just now realize that he’s still wearing the string friendship bracelet i gave him at eighteen; just before his draft.

i swallow the lump that built in throat, nodding, “yeah.”

“you think maybe now would be a good time to do that?” he asks. “start slow; go on dates again, maybe you could come over sometime for movie night with Luke and i, come to a few more of my games, where i actually know you’re there this time. and then see where that could take us?”

butterflies swarm my stomach, my heart beating rapidly in my chest, and my teeth sink into my lower lip, biting back a smile.

“i’d love that, Jack.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

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