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hippiepowrs · 8 months ago

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one night lookin' pretty

eddie munson x fem!metalhead!reader

you and eddie hate school dances, but you decide to go to the prom this year--with someone who isn't eddie. eddie does not like that, but can't say anything.

a/n: this is my first longer fic so i hope you like it. prom season is coming up so this is kinda self indulgent (as if all my fics aren't). this one is for all my weird girls out there! title from one night in the city by dio btw. :)

warnings: hurt/comfort. angsty for a while but gets fluffy. swearing. a guy being a total asshole to reader. reader wears a dress. reader and eddie both self-described as 'freak.' eddie being a jealous and insecure idiot. both are oblivious as fuck. eddie is REALLY dorky. eddie's backstory and parents--i did not read that book so i don't care if it's canon. idiots in love in the end. pretty cliche but i don't care!

wc: 3.8k

It’s prom night, and Eddie is sitting alone on his couch. Without you.

Usually, you guys skip every school event together in favor of watching a shitty movie and smoking half of his stock, but tonight was different. Someone asked you to the prom, and it wasn’t him.

He’s been acting off for the past two weeks, you noticed. He’s been quiet and snappy, and has been opting to jack up the stereo instead of talk on your drives home. When you asked him what was wrong, he pushed you away. So, you left him alone about it. He made it clear he wanted his space.

He didn’t even want to show up to see you in your dress. You called him last night to see if he would come over–he told you he was sick. He wasn’t fully lying, though. The thought of you going to that stupid school dance with that stupid school boy made him nauseous. It didn’t make sense to him. How did you switch your views on the prom so fast? Months ago, the two of you laughed at the idea of going. Now, you were dressed up all pretty, just like all those popular girls you claimed to hate. He had to watch that sleazy ass car pull into to the trailer park, right up next to his. He’d never admit that he watched you step out of your trailer with that guy, and wished it was him.

Being completely honest with yourself, your date isn’t even exactly your type. Todd isn’t some freak like you or your friends, but he isn’t a complete asshole either. He asked you in the hallway two weeks ago, and your instinct was to laugh at him. You laughed in his face, but he didn’t budge. He really wanted to take you to the prom, so you told him you’d go. It felt nice to be wanted. It was okay that he wasn’t some rock n’ roll dude like you’re into–it’s not like you’re marrying him. It’s just the prom.

You and Todd arrive at the Hawkins High gym, hand in sweaty hand. Pushing the anxiety clawing at your throat back down, you give him a smile as you walk to get your photo taken together. The frilly, glittery background reminds you that this place isn’t for you. Again, you push that down.

The music isn’t really your style, either, but everyone is having so much fun you feel the need to pretend. None of your friends are here, so you’re stuck. Maybe you should have pregamed, you think. Too late now. Todd pulls you onto the dance floor with a fervor you’ve never seen in him. You don’t understand how a person can have so much fun dancing to this shitty music. It’s a lot easier to get through when you pretend that Todd is Eddie, and you’re dancing to mixtapes in his room. You decide not to think about the implications of that right now. When the song ends, you offer to grab punch for the both of you. Maybe it’ll be spiked.

As you make your way back to Todd, you see him chatting with a few of his friends, and from this distance you can just begin to hear them.

“So, when do I get my twenty bucks from each of you? She’s totally ruining my reputation right now.” He laughs, and your stomach churns.

“Okay, yeah, you proved us wrong. You got her here, you danced, you win.” His friend confirms the fear that’s been looming over you like a dark cloud since Todd first asked you out.

“You at least better hold onto her long enough to get her home with you tonight, man!” Another friend cackles, and you think you’re going to vomit.

How were you stupid enough to think that he actually liked you?

God, you’re so gullible.

At least there’s nothing to lose now, you think. Walking over to him, drinks in hand, you dump both of them on his head. They splash on his stupid hair and drench his stupid suit. The music keeps playing. A few people turn to look. The room doesn’t stop for you like some trashy romcom. Everyone just keeps going.

Storming out to the parking lot, nothing can stop the burning tears from pouring down your face. You slump down against the brick wall, fabric of your dress sticking to the rough sidewalk. The warm spring air feels sticky on your cheeks. You wish you had stayed in with Eddie.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You need to call Eddie. Todd drove you here, so it’s either Eddie or walk, and these heels already hurt enough. Your body feels like dead weight as you drag yourself to the payphone on the wall, punching in the number that’s engraved into your heart.

“Hey.” You greet, choked up. You’re trying to keep your composure. You know it won’t last long.

“…Hey. Havin’ fun with Mr. Popular?” There’s a bitterness to his tone. Usually he would’ve picked up on the fact that you were crying in a split second, but tonight he was too angry.

“Uhm, not really. Could you, uh,” you sniffle, blowing your thin cover, “pick me up? Like, now?”

You can almost hear his demeanor shift over the phone. A beat of silence passes.

“I’ll be right there.” He’s clearly still upset, because he hangs up the phone without saying goodbye. But his one-sided irritation can’t override the facts: he cares about you so much that he immediately hops in his van and starts speeding to the school, even faster than normal.

You sit back at the edge of the sidewalk, staring into the empty night over the parking lot. God, this is so cliché. Freak gets taken to prom as a joke; left crying outside. You know how pointless it is to cry over this guy. You don’t even care about him, to be honest. But it’s not really him you’re crying over. It’s the extensive disappointment you repeatedly put yourself through after expecting different results—it’s the fact that you haven’t stopped thinking about Eddie all night.

As you begin to probe deeper into the ethical implications of falling in love with your best friend, said best friend whips into the parking lot, tires skidding as he pulls right up to you and parks. He drives just how he lives his life—with a sense of urgency and passion you don’t see in many. His van stops diagonally in the middle of the pickup lane, and he hops out of the driver’s side door, so worried he can’t be bothered to close it before sprinting to your side.

For the past six minutes—which is Eddie’s new personal record on getting to the school from Forest Hills—his mind has been racing with every possibility of what could have happened to you tonight. Maybe Todd had another girl, or is just boring, or maybe you got totally Carrie’d and some assholes poured pig’s blood all over you. Not likely, but hey, you never know the determination of Hawkins’ resident assholes. At least if you got Carrie’d you’d look metal as fuck. That would be a good album cover. But that’s not the point. What he’s more worried about is the possibility that that dickwad touched you in any way. Just the thought is enough for him to completely light up—he got pretty close to breaking his steering wheel from how hard he was gripping it.

“What happened?” He tries to act nonchalant, but that’s something he’s never been good at.

Your head is held between your knees, looking down into nothingness. He’s staring daggers into the top of your head, and you can almost feel the fact that he wants to say ‘I told you so.’ Reluctantly, your wet eyes tilt upwards, the rest of your head following.

“Let’s just talk in the van.” He sighs.

You don’t budge. Your legs feel far too wobbly to imagine getting up right now. He has zero patience at the moment, it seems, as evidenced by the fact that he almost immediately picks you up bridal style and carries you directly to the passenger’s side of his van. He fumbles with the door handle for a second before setting you down gently in the seat. You watch him drag a frustrated hand over his face through the windshield as he walks back to his side, and although you know you didn’t do anything wrong, you’re worried that you did.

The engine roars into life, turning your seat into a makeshift massage chair. Eddie pulls out of the parking lot as quickly as he pulled in, but with a little more focus. He doesn’t turn his music on, which is a bad sign.

“It was a bet,” is all you can say, voice soft and defeated, “because, of fucking course it was.” You stare out the window, head tapping against the glass as he hits a pothole straight on.

“I told you that asshole was bad news.” His voice is laced with venom. He’s never been good at controlling his anger—especially when it has to do with you.

You stay silent. Anything you say right now will probably just piss him off more.

“Why do you—why do you always do this to yourself? You’re always finding these guys that just want to take you out to say they were able to take you out. They treat you like a fucking trophy.” He scoffs.

You look at him again, tears still silently falling. Even if you wanted to say something to that, you can’t seem to find your voice.

“I just don’t get it. You’re, like, totally perfect,” he coughs, gripping the wheel harder, “and these guys you find are total douches. You can do so much better.”

“It’s not like there’s anyone better around here,” you mumble while staring out the window, like some kid talking back to their parent for the first time.

“That’s not my point!” His yell rings out against the hum of the engine, the dull drumming being the only sound left as he hangs a sharp right turn. “I just don’t understand why you’re so eager to find some guy that you throw your morals out the door.” Eddie’s eyes dart to you for a moment before looking back at the road.

“I haven’t thrown my morals out the door.” You argue softly.

“Yes, you have! We always said we’d never suck up to the bullshit they want us to do, that we’d never let them turn us normal, and here you are at the fucking prom.”

“Eddie, it’s prom! It’s not like I fucking stabbed my mother!”

“We’re supposed to be the freaks! We’re Hellfire! We piss people off! That’s our whole thing! You can’t just—fuck—just throw that out!” He groans angrily, pulling into Forest Hills, slowing down as you near the Munson trailer.

“I’m not throwing it out.” You say, much more firmly.

“You’re throwing me out!” There it goes, the root of the entire issue. He’s always been worried that you’ll find someone cooler, someone less abrasive, someone who will make you laugh and smile more than he can. Logically, he knows that would never happen, but he can’t help his fear. He throws the van into park and slams the door as he gets out.

Eddie was eight when he met you. He’d been living with Wayne for a little over a year by the time you moved next door, but he was still struggling. His mother left him first, then his father. He missed his mom a lot, but his dad probably caused him more pain, knowing that he had the choice whether or not to stay, but Eddie wasn’t enough. Uncle Wayne was nicer to him than his father had ever been, but that can’t fix a broken kid.

Then one day, you showed up in your ratty hand-me-downs, a year and a half younger than him. He thought that girls had cooties, but you were different. You didn’t giggle or try to hide your gaze like the other girls did when they made fun of him to each other. Instead, you walked right up to him and said hi.

You were new, and you didn’t have the best clothes—he could tell you were probably going through something similar to him—so the kids at school kicked you to the curb. You were just as pretty as the other girls, he thought, if not prettier, as much as a seven-year-old can be. But that didn’t really seem to matter to them. Your lunchbox was plain, theirs had characters.

When the two of you got to be in junior high at the same time, him in the eighth grade and you in sixth, he thought for sure that you would find new, more popular friends. It was incredibly shocking to him that you’d rather hang out with some dorky boy with an ugly buzz cut who’s two grades ahead of you than the other pretty girls, but he wasn’t going to complain.

He’s lived with that fear constantly since then, always preparing himself to see you walking into school one day in some pastel sweater instead of your band shirts and battle vest. He knows you won’t, he knows you’re better than that, and he feels so guilty for always expecting the worst, but he can’t help it.

You hop out of the passenger’s side of the van, holding up the skirt of your dress like some elegant princess. But instead of some grand, ornate staircase, you’re simply walking up the concrete steps of the Munson trailer and following Eddie, who’s storming inside.

“Eddie.” You sound like a scolding mother, tears having dried up a few minutes ago, and you shut the door behind you. “Why do you think so lowly of me?” Your voice cracks with the weight of the question.

Eyes widening, Eddie never realized quite how much his thoughts could affect you until right now. “I don’t,” he says softly. “You’re the best person I know.”

“You say that, but you always think I’m gonna leave you for someone else. You’re my best fucking friend. I’m not just gonna cut you off at the drop of a hat.”

“I- I know that,” he stammers out, a little shaken.

“Do you?”

“Look, I,” he sighs, finally turning around, “I’m just scared. I’m scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize how fucking lame I am, and you won’t want to deal with me and all my bullshit anymore.”

“The world isn’t against you, Eddie.”

He opens his mouth to quip back something snarky, but he closes it as he thinks about your words again.

“You hate yourself so much that it’s beginning to rub off on me, because I’m friends with you, and if I like you, you think that surely there’s something wrong with me, too.”

He’s stunned into silence, your words stabbing him straight through the heart.

“Can you at least tell me why you were being a dick for the past few weeks?” You switch the subject slightly with a sigh.

Eddie takes a deep breath. “Because of Troy asking you to prom.”

“Todd.”

“Yeah, whatever. He was my problem.”

“Why were you mad at me for that, though?”

“I knew he was gonna hurt you.”

“You didn’t say anything about that, though. You just said he was an ass once and then pushed me away for two straight weeks.”

Standing in the middle of the dark trailer, Eddie is presented with two options: confess his lifelong, undying love for you, or don’t. He knows that the only good and honest explanation he can give you involves a love confession, and he hates lying to you. But one thing trumps the fact that he hates lying to you, and it’s that Eddie is a complete and utter pussy.

Eddie is, and always has been, a pussy. In middle school, you acted as his bodyguard—self-appointed, and very passionate—which only made him get bullied worse. You didn’t care. You’d defend him until the end of time. You’d take a hundred tugs to your ponytail or face-plants in the lunchroom so that he wouldn’t have to. You weren’t very loud or talkative in school, until it came to defending Eddie.

To Eddie, you’re this glowing beacon of light and hope in his life. Everything good comes from you. And if he confesses his feelings to you, and you don’t feel the same, that pillar comes crashing down.

But…what if? What if you did feel the same? That’s stupid, he thinks. Clearly you don’t, because otherwise you wouldn’t have gone to prom with another guy. And he’s sure you already know about his big, fat crush, and you’re choosing to act like you don’t notice.

“I’m sorry.” You can tell he’s nervous by the way he’s fingering riffs on the side of his thigh.

“You always get so upset when I talk to guys. It’s not like there can be only one guy in my life.”

“I know that, it’s just–” This is going to be the worst decision he’s ever made, and he knows it, but he can’t stop himself. “--I’m jealous, okay?”

“Obviously you’re fucking jealous, dickweed.” As you call him your favorite nickname, the intent behind his words reaches you, and your cheeks begin to heat up. “…Wait.”

“Have you seriously not picked up on this yet?” Eddie is genuinely surprised at your reaction. “You—you’re perfect, you know that? You’re the coolest person I’ve ever met, and I don’t know how you do it.” His voice is softer than normal.

“Yeah, but—like, are you serious?” You ask.

“I wouldn’t joke about this. I’ve been, like, totally into you forever. I’m surprised Gareth or Jeff didn’t say anything to you.”

“They did a while ago, but I thought they were messing with me.”

“Okay, I honestly can’t blame you for that.”

A moment passes in silence, and you think about how to respond.

“You know, I didn’t really want to go with Todd.”

“What? Why did you then?”

“I hoped that you would ask me,” you admit, eyes drifting to your feet, “but it was kind of a stupid thing to expect.”

His jaw goes slack as he hears you speak.

“I guess that I’ve just kinda had this pipe dream where we’d go to prom together, and I’d be able to dress up all pretty, and we could dance together.” You avoid his gaze, until you hear him scurrying down the hallway.

He emerges back out with his stereo in one hand and a cassette in the other, scrambling to place it down on the kitchen table and shoving the tape inside. He immediately skips to the song he has in mind. The familiar sound of Tommy Lee’s piano starts from beside you, and before you can figure out what’s happening, he’s offering his hand to you.

“May I have this dance?”

A smile grows on your face. “God, you’re such a fucking dork.” Your insult doesn’t come without placing your hand in his. He’s bright red, and he’s never slow danced in his life.

Mötley Crüe’s Home Sweet Home is interrupted occasionally by the sound of feet stepping on feet and the subsequent ow!’s that follow, as well as the flustered giggling of two idiots in love.

Eddie pulls you a little closer, his hands firmly planted on your waist. “You look really beautiful tonight,” he murmurs, “sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

He feels extremely underdressed compared to you, him in his favorite torn up pair of black jeans and an Exodus muscle tee, and you in your stunningly gorgeous dress, looking prettier than any princess he could ever imagine.

“Thank you,” you mumble back, flustered, “you don’t look too—fuck!—too bad yourself, you know.” A playful giggle comes with your words, and a huge grin grows on Eddie’s face.

“Yeah?” He teases, looking right in your eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you giggle, staring right back.

Leaning in, he lets out a nervous laugh before pressing his lips to yours. It’s not some magical explosion of energy that cures all your problems and fixes world hunger; but his lips are soft and warm, and he tastes like weed, gummy worms and a hint of shitty beer, and it feels right.

You kiss him a few more times before the song ends, all quick and chaste but completely full of love. Pulling you along with him, not wanting to let go, he pauses the tape and the trailer goes quiet again.

“Was I better at that than Troy?”

“Todd.”

“Point still stands, fuckface.”

Eddie drags you down the hall to his bedroom, the familiar ambiance warming you like a comforting blanket. Jumping onto the bed with a plop, the boy pats beside him invitingly.

“Can I change first?” You ask, ecstasy of the moment wearing off, allowing you to remember how itchy this damn dress is.

“‘Course. Your shirt is clean if you want it.” He calls it your shirt, but it was his at one point. The old Metallica tee used to be his favorite one, too, which meant it got a lot of wear and tear. But then you started wearing it at sleepovers, and it quickly became your shirt. Eddie didn’t like to wash it afterward because it smelled like you. He always felt like a creep for that.

Your hand tries its best to wrap around and pull the impossibly tiny zipper down, but it doesn’t want to budge. Eddie, watching you as intently as ever, quickly notices and jumps up to help you. His fingers move to your waist, soft and nimble, and gently undo the zipper for you. You let your dress fall to the ground, and he looks away, flustered. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you in your underwear before, but now it feels a lot more serious.

Quickly throwing on the hole-filled Metallica shirt and a clean pair of his boxers, both of you hop back into his bed. You’ve shared plenty of nights here before, but once again, now it feels different. You sense that it will become a common theme for your life in the near future. His hands snake back around your waist and pull you next to him, and you allow your head to rest against his chest.

“So… does this mean you’re, like, my girlfriend now, or what?” A goofy smirk is plastered across his face as he asks.

You try to playfully shove him off of you, to no avail. “Are you seriously fucking asking me that?” You’re trying so hard to act angry, but your giggles give you away.

“Yes, yes it does.” You seal it with a kiss. Then one on his cheek, and the other, and his forehead, and the tip of his nose.

reblogs and notes always appreciated! | requests are open!

#hes such a dork you cant convince me otherwise #like he would be sooooo corny #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #hurt/comfort #eddie munson hurt/comfort

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seospicybin · 11 months ago

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TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

EXTRA HOT REUNION

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist.

Synopsis: You and Minho are having a Too Hot To Handle reunion with other contestants to catch up on the life after the retreat. (7,2k words)

Author's note: Merry Christmas! Hope you enjoy my gift to you ❤️

HOST: Welcome to the Too Hot To Handle reunion! Today, we're going to get all the updates on your favorite couples and what happens once they return to the real world. And I know, you're all dying to know if the couples are still together or not but in the meantime, let's find out if our sexy group of people remember all the times they broke the rules.

AGNES: Uh, I did a lot [cringes]

LUCA: I wish I had broken more rules. [Laughs]

YOU: The kiss Agnes and I did with Jack.

JAI: [Counts with fingers] There's just a lot of 'em.

BRYAN: Uhm... I'm the accountant, remember?

MINHO: The sex?

YOU: Then I broke more rules with Minho.

AGNES: Oh, the kiss with Jack!

JACK: Just once but I kissed the two hottest girls in the retreat [grins]

HOST: Here's the couple who broke half of those rule breaks and managed to win the show. Welcome back, lovebirds!

MINHO: [Waves hand]

YOU: Hi, gorgeous! [Smiles]

HOST: You guys won. Congratulations! [Claps]

YOU: Thanks, girl!

MINHO: Thank you.

HOST: So, what are you guys doing with the money? Are you guys sharing it? Or maybe... saving it for the wedding? [Chuckles]

MINHO: I make her keep all the money.

YOU: He insists that I handle it.

HOST: Uh-oh. I sense something wrong. What is it? Tell us all about it...

MINHO: [Shrugs]

YOU: Ugh!

MINHO: We were supposed to go on this trip together.

YOU: [rolls eyes]

HOST: Girl, I can see you holding back. Spill!

YOU: [Sighs] Well, since I'm taking care of the money, I thought it would be nice to go on a trip together with the money we've won. On the day we were supposed to leave, we had an argument so yeah...

HOST: Oh, no [frowns]

YOU: I booked the flights, the Airbnb... I have to cancel all of that because he canceled last minute like... [exhales air]

HOST: Minho, you want to add to that?

MINHO: That's all true. We argued on the day of the flight and I canceled.

YOU: And I texted him, you know, he could have still come, we could sort things out face to face but no, he didn't reply to any of my texts.

HOST: If I were you, I would have still gone on that vacation.

YOU: Honestly, I was looking forward to that trip, I want to spend time with him and have fun... [sighs] I was a little heartbroken by that.

HOST: Just to clarify... are you still together or not?

YOU: I'm just going to let it out of my chest that I... I will always have love for Minho and I support him, I'll always be attracted to him. I—

HOST: I'm sorry, girl but you have to hold it right there and we'll get back to you later.

HOST: If there's one thing that the villa proves is that people are complicated and one person knows this more than most... it's Zara!

ZARA: [Blows kisses] Hi, hello! That's actually the nicest way to put it, it's complicated [laughs]

HOST: Let me tell you, I was sad to see you got eliminated [pouts]

ZARA: Aww... but that's the thing, I came home not feeling sad at all, and to feel that, I usually have to go out with friends and have a few drinks. But I was sitting at my home thinking of what Lana taught me and what I'd learned... [smiles] It was all a good life lesson.

HOST: What made you feel that way about your elimination?

ZARA: I don't know, I woke up feeling like I learned enough in the retreat, obviously, I didn't want to keep hurting myself and get myself into more drama... [inhales] it's for the best.

HOST: Are you seeing anyone at the moment?

ZARA: Yeah and he's amazing, he's sweet and fun and he's just as obsessed with me as I do for him [chuckles]

HOST: I love that, yeah. You just feel like want to eat him, right?

ZARA: [Laughs]

HOST: But in regards to what happened to you and Bryan, have you spoken to each other ever since? Are you on good terms?

ZARA: He sent me some texts once the show ended but that's just that [thinly smiles] let's just leave it at that.

HOST: It was fun catching up with you but I have to go and talk to Agnes and Jai.

ZARA: Send my love for them [Blows kisses]

HOST: And I am sending you my love. Cheers, babe!

HOST: I cannot wait to find out if they're still horny for each other, it's one of my favorite couples, Jai and Agnes!

AGNES: Hi, hi! [Makes smooching sounds]

JAI: G'day! [Grins]

HOST: I never knew I missed that grin of yours, Jai! [Chuckles]

JAI: I know [grins] I'm doing it for you.

HOST: Shush it, boy! Your girl is here!

AGNES: I'm very aware of how flirtatious my man could be. But I'm watching you [squints eyes]

JAI: [Holds both hands up]

HOST: Tell us what happened after the show. Are you guys still naughty and horny?

JAI: Oh, yes.

AGNES: [Laughs]

JAI: She stayed with me for a while, back when I was still having a roommate and he asked me if we were alright. We kept going at it that it concerned him.

AGNES: Oh, my God!

HOST: Oh! You two are just so passionate [laughs]

AGNES: [Nods] [giggles]

JAI: We are!

HOST: Now, for the most important question, are you guys still together or not?

JAI: We had a little break then we just kind of... found a way back to each other.

AGNES: [smiles] We are still together. Yay!

HOST: Oh, thank Goodness!

JAI: A month ago, is it? We took a trip together and eventually met her sister and her family.

AGNES: It was unplanned! [Laughs] [shows hand] There's no ring yet, everyone.

HOST: Jai? Any plans to put a ring on it then?

AGNES: [Laughs]

JAI: Uh... to be continued?

HOST: It's been lovely, you guys. I hope you two stay happy.

AGNES: And horny?

HOST: Yes [laughs] Thank you and see you [blows kisses]

HOST: Before we get to the final interview, the guests are sharing their best moments in the villa.

AGNES: Oddly enough, I missed the dressing room, I guess that's because we gossip so much in there [giggles]

JACK: The kiss, obviously [laughs]

LUCA: The first party in the villa. That was... just wild and so much fun.

MAISIE: The final date I had with Luca was just romantic, probably the nicest date I ever had.

YOU: It's all the times Sabine and I hang out in the pool. Then there's also the time when Minho said he likes me, with the cushion and everything [laughs] that was just so special.

BRYAN: Just having with the guys, I guess, we were fooling around a lot, just lots of laughs.

HOST: Finally, we have come to the most awaited moment. Let me take a deep breath first [inhales] [exhales] Okay, we're ready now.

YOU: Where were we? [Laughs]

MINHO: The canceled trip and you were sad about it.

YOU: Yes, that... we had arguments like that not once or twice, I think that's just our love language [laughs]

HOST: That's kind of sexy, actually.

YOU: At that time, I just knew I had to be the one putting on the big girl pants, again [rolls eyes] if he didn't want to come to me then I'll just come to him.

HOST: Oh, my God! Is it like one of those movie scenes where the girl chasing the guy—

YOU: yeah, it's pretty much like that but the problem was... it was around Christmas and you know how hard it is to get a flight during holidays, it was a nightmare but I went through all that to see him.

HOST: And...?

YOU: It was cold and snowing, I dragged behind me, and knocked on his door, expecting that his face would light up when he saw me...

HOST: Oh, no, I sense a 'but' coming...

MINHO: I was just telling you to stop knocking [shrugs]

YOU: That's what he did, he scolded me for knocking on his door.

HOST: It keeps getting worse... I don't think I want to hear the rest.

MINHO: We're still together, we made up that day.

HOST: Oh, thank you Minho. I was close to having a cardiac arrest [clutches chest]

YOU: [Smiles] I didn't mean to scare anyone, sorry. We're still together, we still argue sometimes but we're still together, thank God!

HOST: That's good to hear so what are the plans now? Besides trying to be civil with each other [laughs]

YOU: Oh, before I forget, Minho also said the L word that day [giggles]

HOST: What? How could you hide it from it?

YOU: We were exchanging Christmas presents and he casually dropped the L bomb.

MINHO: Casually?

YOU: Honey... [laughs] I didn't say I don't like it. See? [Sighs] We need a couple counseling.

HOST: That's not a bad idea [chuckles]

YOU: I think it was special that there were only the two of us, it was intimate and heartfelt, and it couldn't be more perfect [smiles]

HOST: Minho, that... I didn’t know you were such a gentle guy.

MINHO: I've been meaning to say it, I just... didn't have the right time to say it.

YOU: Because we're always arguing.

HOST: [Laughs] I love that you guys complete each other's sentences.

YOU: I know, that's why I love us. That, and also because the make-up sex is just... [moans] [thumbs up]

HOST: Ugh, okay, you got me jealous now. I'll leave you two back to arguing then [laughs] Best wishes to you two, my loves! [Blows kisses]

HOST: It's been a blast catching up with all the casts of Too Hot To Handle Season 2. Thank you so much for watching, see you next time!

LAST CHRISTMAS

"I don't chase, I attract."

You say those words out loud and manifest them to the world when you meditate in the morning but here you are, getting off the plane to chase a guy who canceled your planned trip at the last minute and not replying to your calls or texts.

You might have attracted him but nobody tells you that you have to chase him around too.

The layers of clothes that should have shielded you from the cold only make your body hot and soon drenched in sweat.

Why there are so many stairs? Why Minho has to live up on the hill? Why is your suitcase so heavy? Why did you pack so many clothes? Why are you here at all?

Despite the fatigue that slowly taking over you, you manage to conquer the last flight of stairs and arrive at his house.

After hours of bustling through the airport and the traffic, not to mention, dragging your luggage through the street, you're aware of how you look and it's not how you want Minho to see you when he opens the door.

But he should be appreciative of your intentions to come here and surprise him.

Right?

Can't believe you have second thoughts when you're already standing right in front of his door, why couldn't you have these thoughts before you got on the plane?

You throw away your worries and stop thinking altogether, your hands start knocking on the door. Once, twice... no one opens the door.

Oh, God? What if he's not home? What if—

You keep knocking on his door in case he didn't hear you the first two times. Your knocking is almost turning into a banging when he finally pulls the door open.

Minho stands there and looks at you with your hand hanging mid-air.

"You can stop knocking now," he says, scolding you for the aggressive knocking.

You don't expect confetti or cake or grand entrance music, but not this either, just you and him, looking at each other in silence.

Another moment passes and Minho opens the door wider, "Why are you just standing there? It's cold, get in!" He scolds you again.

It's only been a few minutes but he has scolded you twice already and weirdly, you obey him, getting into his house, pulling your luggage behind you.

Something is beeping from inside the house and Minho runs to check it, you allow yourself to go further inside. You take off your coat and purse, putting them on top of your suitcase before continuing to look around his house.

It's not small, not big either and it's obvious that he keeps it tidy and clean. You expect nothing less than that.

It's like seeing a movie scene, except that it's real. Minho looks exceptionally gorgeous in his dark sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and one hand that is busy stirring something in a pot.

"Go wash your hands!" He orders.

You're too deep in your daydream to listen to him the first time and only get what he said the second time.

"Dinner is almost ready," he adds, closing the pot with a lid and then turning off the stove.

"Where's the—"

"The door behind you," he answers your unfinished question.

You're too tired to bicker with him and the smell of the soup he's cooking is appetizing, making your stomach rumbling in hunger.

Is it why Minho is not that happy to see you? You look horrible with your eyes looking dark and heavy with exhaustion, your hair is greasy and stuck to your forehead.

There's no time to dig into your suitcase to get your toiletry bag so you do everything to make yourself look presentable, wash your face, and brush your hair with your fingers, hoping that it's enough for now.

Minho has already set everything on the dining table when you return from the bathroom, looking at the food he's serving, your stomach is getting impatient on being filled with some home-cooked meals.

"This looks good," you say, taking a seat on the dining table.

He doesn't say anything to your compliment but goes to the kitchen to bring back a pitcher of water, then sits opposite you.

Minho immediately starts digging into his food and as much as you want to do the same, you're hoping to hear something from him other than commands.

"Do you perhaps... want to say something to me?" You carefully say.

He continues eating, taking a few things from different plates and eating them with a spoonful of rice.

"Like... 'oh, what a nice surprise!' or 'I'm happy to see you, honey'," you recite a few lines you wished to hear him saying yet he seems to enjoy his food too much to pay attention to what you're saying.

You softly sigh and pick up your spoon, "A hug would be nice," you mumble.

He glances up from his bowl of rice and looks at you, "You must be hungry. Eat!"

You cave in, obeying him again, and eat the food just like he ordered. Maybe because you were hungry, you feel less upset now that your stomach is filled.

You help with the dishes after dinner, drying your hands with a towel once you're finished then refill your glass with more red wine before leaning against the counter, watching Minho slicing up fruits, he looks so relaxed but maybe because he's in his element, in his own place.

"You're different at home," you mutter, then take a small sip of your wine.

He glances at you for a second before focusing back on the task in hand, the hand gripping the knife showcasing the evident veins on his forearm.

"Off-guard," you point out.

He pauses cutting an apple then looks at you, "Should I be on guard?"

To other people, Minho may seem like he's trying to pick a fight with you but that's just how he communicates, a bit snarky with a whole lot of nonchalance in it.

It's a good thing that you've been with him long enough to know how to handle him. You put your wine glass away and smile, "You're the one holding a knife, I should be the one on guard."

He smirks hearing your words and it took you this long to make him do that.

"So... will you put the knife down so you can kiss your girlfriend who came all the way to see you?" You sweetly ask, tilting your head to the side and batting your eyelashes at him even though you're not sure these flirting tricks would work on him.

You see that he loosens the grip around the knife and you come closer to him, "That's it, easy, easy..." you playfully say.

You take his other hand and let the knife drop onto the cutting board, turning him to face you. Holding his eyes in a gaze, you slide your hands up his arms then reunite them on the nape of his neck.

"I missed you," you softly mutter but your heart is close to shattering.

"So much," you say all of those words out while deeply looking into his dark brown eyes as they stare down into yours.

"Do you miss me?"

Minho hates it when you're insecure like this but you can't help it, it's just happens when you care so much about someone so let's hope he still knows that.

Then he leans in and kisses you, answering your question with a fiery kiss that melts your worries away until the only thing that remains is the warm feeling he brings with those lips.

When he pulls away, you forget the reason why you ever doubted him.

He then rests his hand on your back, he then slowly and deliberately blinks his eyes before saying, "I missed you too."

It's nice to hear that you're not the only one suffering from the longing. You smile knowing that he thought of you when you weren't here with him even though you're sure not as many times as you thought of him.

"Okay, good, the feeling is still mutual," you awkwardly say with a dry chuckle.

What can you say? Dating Minho is not for the faint of heart, it takes a lot of patience and courage, and it takes... a lot of things.

But is he worth it? The answer is Minho worth everything and more.

The shower helps you get rid of the stress that’s been clinging onto you and you come out refreshed, not feeling tired at all. If anything, you feel excited to spend the rest of the night with Minho, catching up on a lot of things.

Before that, you make yourself presentable this time, putting on your night dress and drying your hair real quick. You notice the toiletry bag Minho brought to the villa is on the sink and it seems like he packed it recently. You shrug it off, keeping your skincare routine brief, impatiently wanting to join Minho on his bed.

On your way to the bedroom, you also notice that he packed a suitcase in his closet, you wonder if he’s planning to go somewhere soon.

Minho is sitting on his bed reading a book, doing it so elegantly like he’s in a furniture TV ad.

“Are you going somewhere?” You get on the bed and lay on your stomach facing him.

“Huh?” He asks without looking away from his book.

You peek over to see the book he’s reading, from the cover you can see that it’s either a mystery, thriller, or horror book, it could be all of that combined.

“I saw your suitcase, packed,” you tell him.

He lowers his book to look at you, “unpacked, you mean,” he says.

Ah, that explains it but looking at how he keeps his things in his house tidy, there’s no way he lets his things stay in his suitcase for too long.

“You should dry your hair. You’ll catch a cold,” he says nonchalantly yet oozing with affection.

This is why you love him, he’s hot and cold, always keeping you on your toes, dating him is one endless thrilling ride.

“I just didn’t dry the end,” you tell him.

The talk about the suitcase reminds you of something. You roll over to the side of the bed and open your suitcase, taking two gift boxes you actually prepared for tomorrow. You bring them over to the bed, sitting next to Minho and place the smaller box first onto his lap.

“Merry Christmas,” You say with a bright smile on your face.

Minho raises an eyebrow at you then glares down at the gift on his lap, “What is it?”

“Your Christmas present from me,” you simply answer.

He seems way too calm for someone who receives a gift from his girlfriend and not sure you’re going to get used to this.

“Open it!” you impatiently say because he keeps observing the box and doing nothing to find out what’s inside.

He finally takes the lid off and sees the bracelet inside. You’re smiling as he takes it out to observe it. You hurriedly help him putting it around his wrist.

“Do you like it?” You ask once you clasped the ends together.

“Did you buy it with the prize money?” He asks with a sly grin.

Why he’s making it hard for you? You must admit that Minho makes you realize that you have a lot of patience in you. You take a deep, deep sigh and put on a big smile for him.

“I’m glad you like it and you’re very welcome,“ you respond, not going to make this supposed-to-be-a-heartfelt-moment into an argument.

It’s time to hand him the second box, instead of putting it on his lap, you drop it right on his crotch as a way to get back to him. He doesn’t flinch but pulls the box closer to his chest before opening it. You put your hand on top of the lid, stopping him from opening it.

“It’s not for you,” you tell him.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Then why did you give it to me?”

“Because I know you don’t have a Christmas present prepared for me so I got you one,” you explain.

It takes him a moment to process your words, “So, you bought this for me to gift to you?”

“Yes,” you answer without a beat.

He bursts into laughter and the box is shaking along with his body as he laughs, “So it- this one for you?”

You take the box from him and smile at him, “Thank you for the present, honey,” you say, then place a quick peck on his lips.

You put on an act, pretending not to know what’s inside the box and slowly uncovering it, taking the lid off with low exciting squeals coming out of your parted mouth. You tear through the wrapping paper and gasp at the sight of the content.

“Oh, my God! Honey…” You coo at him.

You take the pair of lingerie out of the box and show it to him, “This is so beautiful!” You exclaim with excitement even though you were the one who bought it.

“You like it?” He’s slyly smiling as he asks you.

“Are you kidding me? I love it!” You dramatically ask, clutching the gift close to your chest.

You lean in close and tilt your head to the side, “Ugh! You know me so well,” You sneer, then peck his lips.

“I’m glad you like it,” He coyly asks.

You put everything into the box and sigh, “I wanted to put them on and show them to you but…”

You put the lid back onto the box, excessively raising your shoulders, and slump them down as you let out another dramatic sigh, “I’m not in the mood.”

Minho snorts and puts away the boxes, stacking them on the bedside table, “Yeah, you’d better rest, you must be tired.”

And Minho always picks the worst time to be considerate towards you, you roll your eyes and stomp your feet as you walk back to your suitcase, tossing the lingerie into your suitcase and angrily shut it.

“But if you’re not tired, I would love to see you in them,” he says with a devilish smile dancing on his beautiful face.

Hate that you melt right away to his sweet consolidation, your foot is tapping the floor as you pretend to consider his request.

“Well… if you insist,” you say, grabbing the lingerie back from your suitcase.

You’re giggling as you walk to Minho’s closet, changing out of your night dress and putting the lingerie on. As you’re changing, you see Minho’s backpack sitting next to his “unpacked” suitcase. You don’t mean to snoop but it’s open, you can see what’s inside. Using your fingers, you pry it open wider and see that he has a plane ticket clamped between his passport, you reach down to take a look at it when he calls from you from the bedroom.

It feels as if you got caught stealing, you scramble to leave the closet and Minho is putting something into his bedside drawer when you come back. He looks at you, confused to see you standing in a silk robe that comes with the lingerie.

“That’s not the same as what I bought for you,” he playfully says, sitting on the edge of the bed facing you.

You come up to him and stop right in front of him, “Jeez, Minho! You’re not a kid anymore, unwrap your gift yourself,” you tell him with a cheeky smile.

It’s a good thing that he can’t hear how fast your heart is beating right now and it’s beating faster when he looks up, staring into your eyes as his hands reach for your silk robe, untying it until they part open.

You do the rest, sliding the silk robe down your arms and letting it fall onto the carpeted floor. You take a final step, closing the gap between you and him.

He places his hands on each side of your waist, his fingers teasing the thin straps of the lacy underwear but his eyes never stray away from yours even for a moment

“So…?” You curiously ask since he’s not saying anything the moment he sees them on you.

He glides his hands up to your back and draws you close until his lips land on your abdomen, inhaling your scent as he kisses it, making you flutter inside. After a while, he glances up at you and says, “Glad I bought it.”

That sends you into a laughing fit and at the same, he pulls you until you both collapse onto the bed.

A breathless gasp escapes your parted mouth as Minho inserts his fingers inside you, he uses two digits to find that spot that makes you let out another gasp, louder, almost inaudible.

He’s hovering above you as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace and his face is so calm, a contrast to your state: a moaning mess under him.

He presses a kiss on you with tongue and teeth clashing in your mouth, his kisses are hungry, it feels as if he wants to eat you whole.

“Oh…” You moan again, feeling his fingers curl inside you.

Minho then drags his mouth down your chest, using his free hand he yanks down the cup of your bra just so he can suck on your nipple and leave it soaked and wet with his saliva. He continues his trail of wet kisses down your body and he stops with his head hanging between your legs, watching your eyes fluttering as he keeps pumping his fingers.

He pulls your underwear to the side and keeps it there, without wasting another second, he plants his mouth on your cunt, not caring how wet it is. He lifts his head for a moment, using the tip of his tongue to trace your folds and gently, circling your clit that is pulsating with so much desire.

Minho dives down into your wetness again and this time, he lands right on your clit and sucks hard on it.

“Oh, fu-“You can’t even finish your profanity, your voice is shaking and so are your legs.

You slip your hands into his hair, tugging at it as he keeps on sucking and it’s a fruitless effort to try to stop him, the more you try, the harder he sucks on your clit and the faster he pumps his fingers, making you overwhelmed with pleasure.

The only conclusion is Minho won’t stop until you

“I’m- oh, I’m cumming…” you whine, helplessly tugging at his hair.

He hovers above you again but now, he slowly puts his body on top of you, pinning you as he presses kisses on your lips, making you dizzy as he can’t stop kissing you until you run out of breath.

“Honey…” you sigh as you gently push his chest away.

You smile at him and put your hand on the back of his head, wanting to keep him close to you. As you catch your breath, you allow yourself to take a moment to enjoy this moment with him, placing a sweet kiss on his lips and then letting out a low sigh as you pull away.

“Gosh…how I missed you!” You pour out all of the emotions you’ve been keeping inside you and seal the hole in your heart with a kiss that yet again, takes your breath away.

It’s time to show him how much your body misses him. You pull the hem of his sweater and take it off of him to continue kissing him. Slowly, you roll him to the side until he lays next to you and overlaps half of his body with yours.

Minho lets you have the pleasure of doing whatever you want to him, he puts his hands over his head as your hand goes lower and slips it under his sweatpants, palming his member before letting it out.

You glance down to see how his cock is hardening in your hand, “Oh, he’s excited to see me,” you playfully mutter to him.

“What are you going to do then?” He coyly asks.

“Mmh…” you delightfully sigh as you pretend to think of an answer all the while your thumb is circling the tip of his cock.

“I just have so many ideas,” you answer him with a seductive tone.

To execute your ideas, you first get rid of his sweatpants then sit on his thick thighs. You seductively smile at him as you take hold of his cock in your hand again, slowly stroking it with your clothed cunt only inches away from it.

You both wanted it but what’s the fun in giving in to the temptations right away?

His cock is swollen and hard, so ready for you and you are just as eager to take him but refrained yourself. Instead of that, you lean down to lick the tip of his cock with your tongue. The second time, you place a lick from the base up to the tip and then stroke it again.

“How you like that?” you tease him.

Minho doesn’t say anything, he remains calm but his body tells you otherwise, not only his cock, his body reddens all over, his chest, his ears, his cheeks… he’s completely turned on.

You tease him by rubbing his cock to your clothed core, “Mmh… yeah,” you hum in pleasure.

To tease him more, you put his cock inside your underwear, soaking it with your essence as you start grinding on him, unknowingly teasing yourself too in the process.

The yes he’s giving you… oh, it’s so intense, so full of lust, he looks at you like you’re the sexiest thing he ever laid his eyes on, making you feel so wanted, and admired. You suddenly feel a charge of confidence surging all over you and you lean down, kissing him with so much passion until you drain all the air in your lungs.

“Screw this!” you mutter.

Carefully, you push his cock inside you and ease yourself down, taking him little by little until he’s fully sheathed inside you. You just sit there to adjust yourself to his size, closing your eyes as your hands start touching yourself.

Minho gets his hands on you too, he places them on your thighs and glides them up the sides of your body. You take his hands, using them to cup your breasts and fondle them together. You’re lowly moaning as he squeezes on them.

Minho only stops just to pull you close so he can kiss you, putting his arms around you to not let you go and without warning, he starts bucking his hips into you. You can tell he’s smirking against your lips while you let out a broken moan.

“That’s not-oh, not fair!” you mumble yet pressing another kiss on him.

Minho insists on you keeping the lingerie on, he ends up being the one taking it off of you and tossing it onto the bedroom floor. He made you climax twice already but Gosh, looking at him passionately making love to you, you can already tell you’re going to climax for the third time.

“Oh, my God! You feel so good,” You murmur into his shoulders with your fingers clawing his back.

Minho crashes his lips on you, deepening his kiss as he thrusts harder into you. He can sense that you’re about to cum again, he adds intensity to his thrusts and goes as shallow as possible.

Your eyes are screwed shut, feeling the knot inside you keep tightening, getting close to your-

Minho slows down, knowing that you just cum around him and the way he kisses, it’s so gentle as if he knows that you’re already overly stimulated.

You hold him close as you come down from your high, returning his kisses while keeping him inside you.

“You’re not going to stop, are you?”

You brush his hair back with your fingers, putting all the hair covering his face and holding his jaw, “Don’t stop, honey,” you whine.

Nothing gets him off than hearing how needy you are for him. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist and pull him closer, “I don’t want you to stop until you cum inside me,” you whisper into his ear.

That seems to work as planned, Minho picks up the pace of his thrusts, harder and deeper, giving what you both wanted.

You give up on holding in your moans, you let them spill out of your parted mouth and as he gets closer to his release, you press a haste kiss on his mouth.

“Want you to cum inside me, honey,” you whine again.

You have to pause a few times as he mercilessly pulsates his hips against you and the bed creaks along to his movements.

“Oh, please, please!” you sigh.

“Minho, please!”

At this point, you can’t tell if you’re begging him to stop or keep going, the pain and pleasure start to blur into one. You hold onto his shoulders with fingers digging into this flesh and forming crescent marks on his warm, honey skin.

It takes Minho a few more thrusts to finally cum inside you, releasing all of his seed inside you as he collapses on top of you. You embrace him, holding him with so much love, and kiss him with all of your heart until it quakes inside your chest.

Minho hastily kisses your lips, then drags his mouth close to your ear, you’re already drowsy and tired from the day that you barely can keep your eyes open anymore. You can hear him mutter something into your ear but when you’re about to tell him to repeat it, you fall asleep instead.

"Honey, wake up!"

If it isn't because of the hand squeezing your asscheek, you wouldn't have budged from your sleep. When you try to open your eyes, they are heavy and you feel like taking another hour of sleep.

Then Minho bites at your arm, making you jolt on your bed in reaction.

"Minho!" You sharply gasp.

"Wake up!" He says again, now slapping at your ass cheek.

Your feet are kicking the duvet as you whine like a fussy kid, "It's too early."

You turn over on the bed, lying on your side to face him, and croak, "What time is it?"

"One."

"One a.m?"

Minho presses a kiss on your shoulder then gets up from the bed, "Come on, wake up!"

He walks out of the bedroom and leaves the door ajar. You force yourself away and rub your eyes before opening them.

The daylight is almost blinding you and you immediately shut your eyes again, scooting to the side and your hand reaches for your phone on the bedside table.

You tap the screen until it lights up, showing you that it's indeed one o'clock in the afternoon. You must be tired from the flights, dragging your suitcase up the hill in the cold, and then there was the sex, a lot of sex. You remember how you passed out not long after he cum inside you.

Oh no, you missed the whole Christmas morning and that's not the plan. You thought of how nice it would be to snuggle together with Minho on the sofa while having hot chocolate on Christmas morning.

Instead of that, you stand in front of the sink and feel horrified to see your reflection in the mirror, how tired and miserable you look after ten hours of sleep.

Instead of wearing your clothes, you stop by his closet and borrow one of his comfiest knitted sweaters. His suitcase and his backpack are still there, you assume he didn't know you were snooping into his stuff.

Well, there's another reason to snoop in further to see where he's going with the flight ticket. You check for the situation first and waddle back inside, taking his passport out of the bag.

Minho looks so hot even on a government-issued ID photo and before you forget the main goal here, you flip it open to see the details of his flight ticket and you see it.

Unless he has someone else to see in the city you live in, you can safely assume that he planned on coming to see you too, and probably wants to spend the new year with you.

"I knew it!" You exclaim to yourself with a giddy smile on your face.

You wanted to remain calm and pretend that you didn't see the flight ticket and everything but... you can't help but smile when you see him sipping his coffee in the kitchen.

Minho is what people say as one with the softest heart builds the hardest shell. He acts cold, nonchalant, and a bit mean, but that's how you know he really cares for you, and he's genuine and sincere about you.

You come up to him and throw your arms around him, not wasting time kissing his lips, putting all of your affection into this long kiss, and pull away with a gasp.

"Merry Christmas," you happily say to him.

Minho smiles and returns the kiss with a quick peck on your lips, "Coffee?"

You eagerly nod and you wait on the sofa, taking a cookie out of a plate full of them, watching the snow floating in the air through the window.

"Thank you," you mutter as he hands you your cup of steaming hot coffee.

"This is good," you tell him, taking another cookie from the plate.

"I made them," he casually says like he didn't put any effort into baking such delicious cookies.

Minho is good at a lot of things so when he said he made these cookies, you didn't doubt him even for a second.

You place a kiss on his cheek, "These are really good," you tell him again.

You might have missed the Christmas morning but there's always a time to snuggle close to him. It's quiet and warm, it's such a nice moment and to be able to spend it with him is one that you're most grateful for.

Suddenly, Minho takes something from the end of the sofa and shows it to you.

"For you?"

You stop chewing your cookie and put the rest away, "For me?"

He nods and coyly sips his coffee, watching you excitedly unwrapping the gift to find out what's inside.

You gasp as you see a necklace inside, white gold with a small pendant, delicate and beautiful.

"I love it," you tell him with a gleeful smile.

It's always the thoughts that counts. The fact that he thought of you when he picked this gift worth more than the gift itself.

"You should be. I bought it with my own money," he pokes fun at you.

You pout at him, handing him the box so he can put it on for you. You hold all of your hair up in your hands as he puts the necklace around your neck, safely clasping the ends together.

"I love it," you mutter again, letting go of your hair so you can bring his head close and give him a sweet little kiss on his lips.

"Thank you," you say as you break the kiss with a soft caress on his cheek.

He smiles and places a kiss on your cheek, then your jaw. When you think he's going to kiss your neck next, he brings his mouth close to your ear, and ever so softly he murmurs, "I love you."

Your heart shrinks and the next second, it expands twice its size, overflowing with warm feelings. You feel like flying, riding on the clouds of those three words.

"What did you say?" You ask with a foolish smile on your face.

He slyly smiles and sips his coffee, "You heard," he says.

"I heard but..." you lean in close to his side and hold his hand, "can you say it one more time?"

Your sweet smile and the fondness in your eyes are not enough to make him cave in. You should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

You pout and then sigh, but you feel the need to return those words to him. It's not because you have to, but you have known for a while that he is not just a passing fancy, you see a future with him, and as silly as it sounds, you can see yourself growing old with him.

What you have for him is real and it's powerful, it's taking over you.

You hold his jaw and turn his head to look at you, you lean in close until your noses meet in the middle, softly you nuzzle them together while softly smiling at him.

"I love you," you say back with all of your heart that it aches.

Then you place your lips against him and let your heart pour out, flowing all of your emotions into the kiss.

When you open your eyes, his eyes are staring straight into yours. He holds your gaze and lovingly, he says those three words again for you.

"I love you."

And in his eyes, you find comfort, safety, you find a home you want to live in, forever.

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mirage-aera · 7 months ago

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•°. *࿐ Late night calls || JH86

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : ANGEL - Toby Mai

Jack Hughes x Reader

Synopsis: Days when you're apart are always tough. They get lonely without your other half. Nightly calls make those days slightly better. Especially when he falls asleep after a tiring day.

Word count: 822

Masterlist

Your phone starts ringing. Jack’s contact name shows up on your phone. You answer the call and the familiar sound of the call getting connected chimes. “Hi, baby.” Jack’s tired voice rings out through your phone. You get comfortable in bed before replying. “Hey. You looked great today. How are you feeling?” You ask softly after praising him. He lets out a low chuckle. “It’s a win, so I feel great. You were watching? I thought you said you were going to be busy.” You hum in response. “I was.” You pause, a cheeky grin forming on your face. “But I happened to be watching when you scored.” You can already tell he’s rolling his eyes at your remark. “I’m glad you were watching for a few seconds.” He retorts. You laugh, “come on. I might be busy, but I’ll always be watching you play when I can.” He huffs. Unbeknownst to you, he smiles behind the phone. He’s immensely grateful that you always manage to watch him play, whether that’s on the TV or laptop, or when you show up at the home or away games sporting your devils’ jersey with the number 86 and the name Hughes.

He yawns quietly. “Thank you for watching. Wish you were here though.” He says softly. “Want to switch to video call? I want to see your pretty face.” He adds. You chuckle but press the camera button, requesting to change the call to video. He instantly accepts. His face fills your screen. He shifts in bed before propping his phone up on an extra pillow. He smiles when he sees you wearing his shirt to bed. “Are you tired?” You ask quietly, concern laced in your voice. He blinks a few times, trying to blink the sleep away. “A little. I’m fine though, I’m not falling asleep on you.” You raise an eyebrow. Knowing him, he’ll be doing the exact opposite. “Alright, if you say so. If you’re tired you don’t have to stay on call with me. We can talk some more in the morning.” You offer him. He immediately shakes his head. “I want to talk to you. I miss you.” He says stubbornly. Your heart swells at his last comment. You miss him too, a lot. You’re not apart from each other often. You’re usually by his side whenever he goes away on his roadies. However, this time you had some affairs that you needed to deal with. Hence why you didn’t go with him.

You talk for a while as the night becomes darker by the hour. You can see that he’s starting to fall asleep. “You’re tired. Go to sleep.” You try convincing him. He hums, “in a little bit.” He says stubbornly yet again. A couple of minutes pass while you’re talking about your day. You realize it’s getting quieter and quieter on his side. The occasional hums and shuffling from him turn to pure silence. You look at him through the screen. Only to see his eyes closed, arms tucked into him, and his mouth slightly agape. He’s sleeping. He actually fell asleep on you. Even though he so stubbornly told you he wasn’t going to. He did end up doing the opposite. You don’t hang up on him and you certainly don’t wake him up. He had a long day, so it’s no surprise he fell asleep. It’s oddly peaceful having him sleep on the other side.

You continue scrolling through social media on your phone. Having the video call minimized in the corner of your screen. Eventually, you feel yourself growing more tired. Sometimes you hear the occasional snore coming from him while he sleeps. You close the app and return to the video call. “Good night. I love you.” You mumble quietly, to not wake him up. He lets out a murmur but stays asleep. You cover your mouth to minimize noise as you let out a chuckle. You leave the call and place your phone on the dresser. You close your eyes. Before you know it, you’re asleep yourself.

The next morning you’re greeted by a flurry of texts from him. You smile to yourself and shake your head. You hope this boy never changes. He’s the reason you wake up with a wide smile.

I fell asleep

Sorry baby didn’t mean to

Did you sleep well at least?

I’m going off to morning skate in a bit

Remember to eat well since I know you like to skip it even though it’s not good for you

I’ll call you later

I love you

You put your phone down after replying to him. You get up and start getting ready. You should get started on your day. He’s returning home in a few days. You can’t wait for that day. You have so much to tell him that a phone call won’t do justice, and you’re sure he feels the same way.

#hockey #nhl hockey #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl players #nhl imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes imagine #jh86 #new jersey devils #nj devils #drabble #fluff

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honeygrahambitch · 7 months ago

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"Since laryngitis is not contagious I told Will he should definitely come to work today. Especially now that the Ripper dropped a body. He doesn't need to talk much. He can do his thing and then write a report on it." Jack explained to Hannibal as they arrived at the crime scene. "No one gets hurt and we get even closer to catching the Ripper."

"It's quite cold today." Hannibal commented as a tiny snow flake landed on his palm. "Will agreed I suppose?"

"He did, yes. But we have only been texting so I am not sure what state he actually is in."

Will was already there, next to Beverly, looking around the crime scene, examining something in particular. He was so focused that he didn't even hear Hannibal and Jack.

"Will." Hannibal greeted him. To that Will and Beverly turned to them.

"Will can't speak. Like, at all. I am doing the talking for him today." Beverly explained. Will rolled his eyes helplessly. "He is not thrilled about it but I can do a pretty good job."

"He definitely should not force himself." Hannibal agreed, frowning in concern. If Will was not making any effort to talk then it definitely meant his voice was gone. His usual strategy of ignoring any symptoms he would have did not work in this case.

Jack sighed loudly, probably understanding that Will should have indeed stayed home to rest instead of standing outside in negative temperatures.

"He wants to say that your coat looks majestic, Dr. Lecter." Beverly commented. "Jack, I'm not allowed to say what Will thinks about you at this very moment. I really want to keep my job."

Will didn't protest to any of the things Beverly said and pulled out a little bottle of pills. Hannibal was wondering if Will knew that aspirin won't help that much with getting back his voice. Was his throat sore as well? Probably. Will wouldn't complain about stuff like that even when his voice was perfectly fine.

Hannibal wished he would know that kind of things.

He wished Will would allow him to care for him.

That is why as soon as they were done with the crime scene, he asked Will to get into his car instead of Beverly's. He wanted to open his mouth to protest but the stern look on Hannibal's stern expression made him abandon his attempt to force his larynx.

As soon as they arrived at Hannibal's place, he started making some tea in a navy blue kettle.

"Ginger and chamomile tea does wonders for a sore throat." He explained as Will followed him with his eyes around the kitchen.

Will felt partially powerless and partially grateful. He could admit to himself that other than popping pills, he usually did nothing about feeling sick. He mostly took medication to function at work, he wouldn't need those at home.

"Thank you." He whispered.

Hannibal felt something warm inside himself at hearing his voice for the first time that day.

"You should have told- well, wrote Jack that you are too sick to work, Will. Just so you know, I'm not expecting you for our therapy session tomorrow." Hannibal said as he moved the cattle away from the electric stove.

"No, I can do it." Will whispered a bit louder and coughed immediately after.

"Therapy implies having conversations. And by canceling your appointment I don't mean that I don't want to see you tomorrow. You should definitely come here for dinner." Hannibal went on while pouring tea in two cups. "Sitting with you in silence is not something that I dread."

Will smiled at that. When it came to the two of them, silence was indeed not an obstacle. There was always something to project and something to observe.

Hannibal added a generous spoon of honey in Will's cup and none in his own.

Will opened his mouth to say something more but he coughed again. Hannibal passed him a note book and a pen.

"We can pass notes."

"How romantic" Will wrote to that, earning a genuine smile from Hannibal. Then he kept on writing and then handed the notebook back Hannibal.

"Since I can't talk and you insist on having me around I can finally do what you've been asking me for ages."

"And what have I been asking you for ages?" Hannibal asked curiously as he gave Will the notebook.

"You can draw me in your sketchbook and I promise not to move or make any comment about how boring it is." He wrote back and raised his eyebrows, watching Hannibal's expression as he was reading his words.

"Are you sure?" Hannibal asked trying to conceal his excitement behind a satisfied expression. He was already picturing each pencil or charcoal he could use.

Will nodded.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal nbc #hannibal series #hannibal fanfiction

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grimesgirll · 9 months ago

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you were never the type of person to need someone to help you fall asleep before meeting rick and daryl.

not even as a kid did you need your parents to hold your hand to fall asleep. but now? after having two men warm your bed, you could hardly stand to sleep alone.

this became a problem whenever daryl got into one of his moods of wanting to be alone or even when he went on hunting trips. usually, it could be quelled by rick holding you and lavishing you with his attention at night but when they were both gone? you hated it.

you typically spent your nights without them tossing and turning, a hand between your legs trying to relieve yourself of the itch that only they could scratch.

it was all the same that night. after eating dinner with carl and judith,and getting the toddler to bed, you skulk over to your bedroom. ready to spend the night staring at the ceiling until boredom finally kicked in like a nyquil.

you’d told rick before how you missed him when he was out on runs or taking watch shifts. his solution? count sheep.

looking back, you wish you would’ve strangled him. sleeping wasn’t as easy as counting sheep. you should know; you were the one who typically dealt with judith’s sleep troubles after all. some nights the girl couldn’t go down without another story or another hug, or being rocked in your arms.

not even judith was keeping you up tonight. she’d fallen asleep easily after a day of playing outside and running around with carl. had you regressed so much that a toddler was sleeping better than you?

you think so as you pull back the covers, shifting into the empty bed. it was unnecessarily cold without your boys. they were out on a long scavenging trip - most trips turned out to be long nowadays with how depleted everything nearby was. you’d wanted to go with, but they always insisted that you needed to stay home and take care of the kids. great! you loved hanging with rick’s brood and you loved alexandria too but was it worth being without rick and daryl? debatable.

before attempting to close your eyes and count sheep, you pop a sleep supplement, summoning the bottle from your bedside table and downing a purple capsule. you weren't the first person in this house to have night terrors and you wouldn't be the last, so you guys opted to keep some sleep medicine in stock, just in case.

it still takes a few minutes of rolling around in the comforter to fall asleep. then, you're in a deep, dreamless sleep.

you don't hear them when they come in.

you're catching up on the much needed z's that you missed the past four sleepless nights when the bedroom door opens and two pairs of feet thud on the carpet. with their muddy boots and battered outside clothing discarded, the pair of men slip into bed beside your sleeping form.

as daryl curls into your side, he's disappointed that you're not awake to witness him tucking himself in beside you not smelling like blood, or guts, or the woods for once.

they'd showered at a cabin, which actually not too far from alexandria. the cabin was nestled into a hill and some dense woods between two white picket developments, left to the dead who inhabited it. he, rick, and tara had found some bodies - middle aged - in the basement in a panic room, and evidence of a small, long gone group of survivors. their abandoned shit scattered throughout the place was the win alexandria needed. these scavenging trips weren't always successful, especially with every fucker in a fifty mile radius selfish, cruel, or insane. it was rare they met decent folk. but at least after going hours out and finding jack, they could bring back enough MREs, preserves, and siphoned gas to have those needs off their minds for a while.

daryl's mind immediately wanders to you as he lays back on the satin sheets you'd picked out. you're splayed out in the middle of the bed with your arms wrapped around a round pillow. lips parted; you look peaceful in a way that makes daryl's dick twitch in his boxers.

rick's already leaning against you, a hard outline starting to form in the pajama pants he'd pulled on before jumping in bed. odd choice given how fast they usually came off. his arms are wrapped around you as he settles in for the night.

"so glad we're back," rick exhales into your rising and falling chest.

daryl nods from where he is.

"thought i was gonna combust."

you and me both. he thinks, but just stares at the ceiling, enjoying the soft bed and the feeling of you next to him.

it's not long before the bed is creaking and he knows rick is yanking you closer, whispering in your ear, asking, "you awake, doll?" you don't stir. rick shoots him a look that daryl obliges by sinking down between your legs to work them open, testing a finger lightly against your entrance.

while your leader peppers your chest with kisses and slowly tugs down your tank top, daryl presses his finger inside of you. he hisses. "she's tight after all this time, man."

rick chuckles against your collarbone. "course she is."

you're still asleep when another two fingers are added to your cunt and you're starting to turn on like a fountain. "god, she's gushin'," daryl observes with a hard on while he scissors his fingers in and out of you.

rick has your tank top laying somewhere on the floor to make way for his mouth on your tits, alternating between the two. how you're not awake? they'll never know. not until you wake up the next morning and tell them about the sleep supplement you took before you crashed.

the sheriff's mouth rampages across your chest and up along your pulse point, before working back to your breast. when you were awake, you loved the feeling of rick's mouth on you. you loved it when you were asleep too.

"remember how wet you were when you woke up?" rick whispered in your ear, one time when he had you snug in his arms before you fell asleep, reminding you how good you would feel the next morning after they fucked you through the night.

okay, it wasn't all night but enough to make you feel the stretch the next morning and get your mouth watering at the thought of them enjoying your sleeping cunt. to get distracted during the day thinking about what you'd be up to that night, while you were asleep.

you stir now, body slightly tensing at the feeling of arms around you and three fingers in your pussy. "what?" you murmur, barely quelling a yawn.

rick holds you tighter in his arms, meeting your eyes when you ask when they got in.

"not soon enough," daryl mutters as he detracts his fingers and starts to shed his boxers.

before you know it, rick's pajama pants are nowhere to be seen and you're sinking down on his thick cock. daryl's on your left before you know it and suddenly rick's facing you toward his friend. you're met with the sight of his dick, which you take eagerly into your mouth, pumping what you were too busy waking up right now to swallow with your hand.

"you're always so good for us when we get back, darlin'," rick commends you as you slowly rise up and down on his cock.

you nod, moaning all over daryl as rick's fingers cement into your hips and he drives into you. "oh," you gasp into the man in front of you. he thumbs your cheek while you fit more of him into your mouth, thrusting shallowly.

"i'm sure you’re gonna wanna wake up like this every night now, huh, doll?"

with him buried in your nerve wrought pussy and daryl almost down your throat now, all you can do is nod and hum a sweet garbled yes. it's gonna be a long night, but at least they're back.

#the walking dead #twd imagine #rick grimes imagine #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #rick grimes x reader #rickyl #rickyl x reader #me calling sleep z's #rick x reader #rick x y/n #rick grimes smut #daryl dixon smut #still getting the hang of writing smut #soft somno #threes0me #f/m/m #not beta read #grimesgirll

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heavyhitterheaux · 1 year ago

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Fun Girl (Slight NSFW)

Synopsis: You and Jack have been in a relationship for the past year and a half, and when you approach him with the idea of settling down, an argument ensues and you come to the conclusion that he'll only ever see you as a Fun Girl

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Requested by: the gorgeous @toocriticalharlow 💕

Jack Harlow Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The night was winding down and you were getting ready to change from your outfit that you had danced in into some regular clothes to head home to your cat Genesis when your manager, Celeste, came over towards you and leaned her arm on the vanity that you were sitting at.

"Don't take your outfit off yet, he's here for you." She said while wiggling her eyebrows and smiling.

Of course he was.

"He only ever wants you and asks for you so go out there and put on a good show. Go do what I pay you for. You're one of my best, if not my best girl."

You softly laughed to yourself before sliding your shoes back on.

"Where is he?" You asked while turning around to look in the mirror in order to touch up your makeup.

"Where he always is. You know I always put my highest paying clients in the best rooms. Don't keep him waiting."

Without another word she walked off and once you were satisfied with touching up your makeup, you made your way to the room where he was.

Once you opened the door and closed it behind you, his back was facing you and there was no doubt in your mind that it was him by the curly hair that sat on top of his head.

"It's about time you came in here." He quietly said and all you could do was roll your eyes as your heels clicked across the floor making your way towards him.

"Hmm, I heard you were looking for me." You said while leaning down to whisper in his ear from behind as you grazed one of your stiletto nails along his neck.

"I only want the best when I come in here and that's you so of course I was."

"You missed me that much? Aww, too sweet." You lightly ran a hand through his curls and was still behind him as he caught your hand once you took it away from his hair and lightly kissed the back of it.

"So are you going to dance for me or what?" Jack finally asked as you had walked around the couch to be face to face with him.

"Now, do you want me to actually dance for you or do you want to fuck me since you claim to have missed me so much?" You asked while straddling his lap and placing your arms around his neck.

"Can you dance for me and we fuck after? You already got me bricked up so we might as well go all the way."

"I guess I could honor my favorite client's request." You answered while shrugging and placing a kiss below his ear.

"The difference is that your favorite client just so happens to be your boyfriend." Jack swiftly answered while giving you several kisses as he undid the top of your outfit to expose your breasts as he placed kisses over both of them.

"Damn, I missed you." You breathed out as soon as you felt him slowly start to massage your clit.

"The feeling is mutual, princess. Spread those legs for me. You can always dance for me later and give me my own private show."

"As you wish." You breathed out as Jack then inserted two of his fingers.

"Hmm, I can tell my baby missed me. Look at how wet she is. Is all this for me? Is this what I do to you?"

"Yes, all the time and only you can."

"And I miss the way she tastes. Come here and sit on my face."

The two of you had been going at it for more than two hours when he finally pulled you on top of him on the couch so that the both of you could catch your breath. You had a feeling that you were nowhere near done since he hadn't seen you for almost a month.

You slowly started stroking him while he immediately reached up to kiss you.

"You gonna give me one more?" You asked while giggling because you knew that he was just as worn out as you were.

"I can give you a lot more than that." Jack softly breathed out as you took him in your mouth and his hands immediately went to your hair.

All you did was laugh to yourself as you made him come undone before you once more.

When the two of you had finally gotten back to your condo and made a quick detour to McDonald's, the two of you were sitting in the living room enjoying each other's company when you got curious as to why you had seen him more frequently within the past few months. Typically it would be once or twice a month here and there, but he would always send you gifts. This would have been the longest stretch that you had been without him at least in the last six months.

"Babe, to what do I owe the pleasure of you gracing me with your presence?" You asked while taking a sip of your orange Hi-C.

"So, I can't come and see my girl and fuck her brains out anymore?" Jack asked while leaning over towards you to pinch your cheek.

"I'm never going to tell you no when it comes to that, but I was just curious. I love every moment that I get to spend with you. I know you’re busy so I don’t take it for granted."

"I have an event tomorrow that's close by, so I figured that I would come and see you. You can always put me in a better mood. I love the fact that I can talk to you about absolutely anything."

"And you know for a fact that you’ll always be able to do that. Oohh, what kind of event? Can I go with you? You keep saying how you're going to take me. I’m tired of being in the house and I never really go out unless I’m going to work."

"Not this time babe, besides I thought you had to work tomorrow? And Urban is going to be my plus one."

"I can always take off. It's no big deal. And Urban, your best friend whom I have yet to meet in almost two years?" You responded while munching on your fries.

"Maybe next time, okay?"

"It seems like you always say that." You quietly muttered while looking away from him.

Deep down, it did really bother you that you really didn’t know any important people in Jack’s life and that just didn’t sit right with you.

What was he hiding?

But he didn’t really have anything to hide because he was always honest and told you everything so why now all of a sudden you feel uneasy?

"Hey, look at me. When the time is right the entire world is going to know that we're together. Just not right now. Can you hang on a little longer for me, baby?" Jack asked while looking at you with those blue eyes that always had you in a chokehold.

"Okay."

He could tell you the color of the sky was purple and you would agree with him.

Jack then leaned over to kiss you which you gladly accepted as he then slid you onto his lap since you had finished eating.

"Besides the day after I'm taking you shopping since I’ll be here for a few days. I feel that it's long overdue."

"With no spending limit!?" You asked since the last few times Jack put you on one when he woke up to one of his credit cards being maxed out. He said that you could get anything that you wanted so you had listened to directions.

"No spending limit. Anything you want."

The next evening while Jack had gone out to his event with Urban, you decided to spend time with one of your best friends, Blanca in the hope of making the time go by quicker. Even though he was only going to be gone for a matter of hours, you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible seeing as it will probably be a few weeks before you saw each other again.

However, you were going to bring up to Blanca how he didn’t seem to want the world to know about you and that was fine, as you were more concerned about his friends and family. You were just trying to make sense of this and maybe hearing her opinion would help you get some type of clarity.

“B, this just doesn’t make any sense to me. I totally get that he’s famous and values his privacy but, I mean I haven’t even met his friends or his family.”

“Hmm, something doesn’t sound right. I know you like him and it seems as if he has good intentions towards you, however, something is up.”

“I think so too, but I already approached him about it and of course he said that when the time is right that he would show me off to the world. But when will it be time? We’ve been together for almost two years already.”

“Then you need to ask him and get a straight answer. Truth be told, any man would be lucky to have you to show you off, but the bottom line is that you’re a good person through and through that would do anything for anyone. I just…. I don’t want him to take advantage of that because that's literally the last thing that you deserve. You are always bending over backwards for someone.”

“I just… I don’t know how to feel. When I really think about it I think he’s hiding something frome, but I don’t want to say that without having any evidence to back it up. And besides, I want to stop dancing and really start my life with him.”

“Then you need to tell him that so that the two of you can be on the same page. But he already knows that if he hurts you that he’s going to have to answer to me and that is literally the last thing he is going to want.”

For the rest of the night you tried to put it in the back of your mind and focus on spending time with your best friend. If the two are meant to be together, then all of the pieces would eventually fall into place.

The next day the two of you were currently in your bed watching a movie marathon when you decided that this was as good a time as ever to bring it up to him.

"Babe?" You softly said while looking up at him.

"Hmm?"

"I think I'm finally ready to stop dancing. I'm turning 31 this year and want to start a family."

You couldn’t exactly read Jack’s facial expression, but you had a feeling that whatever he was about to say wasn't anything good.

"I… and what are you going to do?"

"Well I do have a marketing degree and I could always help you. We've been together for almost two years and I know I could be of value to your team."

"What made you even bring this up? Like, where is this coming from?" Jack asked while getting defensive and you didn't understand why.

"I.. I can't do this forever and I had been thinking about it for a while. How am I your girlfriend when your family as well as the majority of your friends don't even know about me?"

"You know I like my privacy."

"But from your parents and closest friends? Are you embarrassed that your girlfriend is a stripper?" Because that was honestly the only thing that you could think of.

"What? No." Jack hesitantly said and you couldn’t help but to immediately roll your eyes.

"You are. I… want to be with you and start a family with you."

"Y/N….."

"What? You always tell me how much you love and care about me so what's the problem? Why are you giving me so much pushback? Do you not want the same thing?"

"Okay how do I put this lightly?" Jack said as he sighed and you knew that shit was about to hit the fan in the next few seconds.

"Put what?"

"Y/N, I do love you and care about you…. But I don't see you in my future."

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" You said while sitting up and looking at him.

All Jack did was sigh.

"You're a stripper… what future does a stripper have? I'm thankful for the time we've known each other but… I can never see you being my wife or the mother of my kids."

"Wow." Was all you quietly said as you were taking it all in.

"You're fun for me, this has been fun but I don't see you as anything else. I don't mean for it to sound like that, but that's the truth."

"So I'm just a fun girl to you and nothing else? I'm a human being with actual feelings you asshole."

"Let's be serious Y/N, you keep my bed warm when I'm away from my actual girlfriend and that's it."

"Your actual WHAT?!" You want to run that one by me again?"

"You couldn't possibly think that you were my main girl all this time. You're more dense than I thought if that's the case."

"Wha… so because of my job, you don't see me as a person?"

"I kept you around for entertainment and you did your job beautifully, but now I don't have a use for you if you’re about to quit dancing so why should we keep this going if it's literally not going to lead anywhere?"

"So, all you've been doing is feeding me lies for the past two years?" You asked as your eyes started to water, but you were for damn sure not going to let them fall.

"I didn't lie exactly."

"But you didn't tell the truth either. Just…. Do me a favor and get out. Make sure you lose my number in the process."

"Shit, I'll delete it in front of you if it makes you feel better. Face it, all you'll ever be good for is keeping another man's bed warm."

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#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow angst #jack harlow smut

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perotovar · 3 months ago

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before a mirror — drabble

moodboard by @yopossum

pairing: jack daniels/marcus pike rating: PG content: fluff, jack and his never ending list of petnames, flirting, general cuteness word count: 626 dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @qveerthe0ry (ily)

a/n: written for @yopossum 's mootboard and minifics celebration!! thank you for letting me be a part of it and congrats, honey ♥

masterlist | follow @oakslibrary and turn on notifs ♥

New York was like a second home to Jack.

The first would always be Kentucky, where his mama made the best pecan pie, and where he first learned to ride a horse. It’s also where Statesman headquarters is, but Jack wasn’t so lucky to be there. He’d been stationed at the New York office for years now and had gotten used to the unsavory sounds and people.

But New York had a lot of good things as well.

For one, not that Jack would ever admit it out loud, New York had a lot of amazing museums. He had a soft spot for the paintings, and when he had quiet moment, he’d pop over to a museum nearby to take a walk.

Jack’s favorite painting was of a nude woman, standing in front of a mirror. He didn’t know the meaning behind it or what it was meant to depict, but it spoke to him. The colors were both rich and warm as well as cool and standoffish.

“Woman before a Mirror by Toulouse-Lautrec, 1897,” a smooth voice hummed next to him. Jack turned toward the man, an easy smirk creeping onto his face as he recognized who it was. “Post-Impressionism.”

“Swear, y’must be an encyclopedia of art, Pike,” Jack chuckled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of the tight denim he wore.

Marcus rolled his eyes and snorted. “It’s literally my job,” he shrugged.

“Details.”

The two had met a few times. Marcus’ job often led him up north to take care of a few cases and Jack didn’t get a chance to go out into the field much anymore. Not unless something big happened or came up.

“Which street food catch yer fancy this time?”

“There’s a really good hot dog stand down the street, might go there after this.”

“And what’s this today, sugar sweet?” Jack smiled. He hadn’t looked away from the painting yet, not until it took Marcus a second to answer. That was something he really appreciate about Marcus Pike. He always made sure he said exactly what he was thinking. He was very focused, to the point. Jack wished he could be a little more like that sometimes.

When he turned his head toward Marcus, his breath caught in his throat a little. It always shocked him to see Marcus up close like this; he had such a striking profile and intense, but sweet eyes.

“Just taking a walk, actually. I’m on my lunch,” Marcus grinned.

“No kiddin’? So am I.”

“I know. You always come here around this time.”

“You keepin’ tabs on me, Pike?” Jack smirked.

Marcus shrugged, smiled, and didn’t answer, looking back at the painting. “And if I am?”

Normally, this would raise suspicion for Jack, but given Marcus’ line of work he knew he didn’t have anything to worry about. Statesman had every law enforcement officer’s information, including their undercover identities, so he knew Marcus Pike was cleaner than clean.

“Well, angel eyes, I think I’d ask ya what ya had planned, then.”

“Come with me. I’ll get you one of those hot dogs,” Marcus winked, turning toward Jack and looking him over. Jack felt a chill run down his spine.

He looked back at the painting and took it in one more time. The colors and the mood washed over him, briefly taking him to a time period he’d never known. He wondered what Marcus saw when he looked at this painting. He’ll have to ask him sometime.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirtin’ with me, Pike,” Jack hummed. He watched as Marcus walked toward the entrance of the exhibit and back out into the main hall.

Marcus looked at the cowboy over his shoulder and grinned. “And if I am?”

#mootboardsandminifics #agent whiskey #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey fanfiction #agent whiskey fluff #jack daniels fanfic #jack daniels fanfiction #jack daniels fic #jack daniels fluff #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu fics #oaksfics

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bomberqueen17 · 3 months ago

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liveblogging the aubreyad 1: Master & Commander

ok so. i'm going to liveblog my reread of the Patrick O'Brian Jack Aubrey series of books, in potentially more or less detail, because it's something to do and it's funny. Starting with book 1, Master & Commander, copyright date 1969, which I definitely first read in like 1991 when I was waaaaay too young to understand approximately half the references. There will be spoilers. There may or may not be an accurate representation of the entire contents of the series. We'll see how long I keep this up. I wish I could write it in the entertaining style of my Wee Precious Flower Prince Geralt Witcher 3 playthroughs of yore but those were written under 1) quarantine confinement, 2) incredible amounts of gin, 3) after collaborative sessions, and I just can't make that happen solo.

But I will do my poor, reduced, older and more sedate best. I promise that while these books are not quite as dramatically crack-addled as Witcher 3, they are weirder than you think, which is critical.

OK so. We start off swinging with the meet-ugly. In fair Port Mahon we lay our scene, in the year 1800 (or 1801?? we also start off swinging with never quite having the tiny details quite laid down), we meet our fair hero Jack Aubrey, a six-foot, well-built, yellow-haired lieutenant in the Royal Navy, a cheerful high-spirited cove who immediately pisses off the unpleasant little man sitting next to him at this chamber music concert by singing along to the music. Relatable reaction by the unpleasant little man, to be sure. Aubrey is having a bad time, though— he has not been promoted and he doesn’t have a ship so he has nothing to do but get in trouble, and his spirits are too low to get into a fight with the unpleasant little man, though he briefly considers it. We soon find out that the sole bright spot in Jack's life is that he's fucking his boss’s wife, which seems like a bad idea but who are we to judge. But lo! He gets back to the inn where he’s staying only to find a letter informing him that he has been promoted! He is now the master and commander of his very own ship, which we are informed is a sloop. Also throwing us into the deep end of Listen Baby It’s Just Vibes. The nautical language and technical shit comes fast and thick and if you just sort of roll with it you figure it out. Don’t Worry About It. There Will Be Context Clues.

Now that Jack is professionally fulfilled he is happy, and so the next morning when he happens to see his unpleasant little man from the previous night, he shows his true colors: he immediately bounds across the street and wholeheartedly, unreservedly apologizes for being a dipshit, like the golden retriever he really is at heart. The unpleasant little man is so shocked by this that he loses all his unpleasantness, has a really nice conversation with Jack, and immediately gets distracted by the sighting of a rare bird. Stephen Maturin is now successfully introduced, exactly as he means to go on as well. He is a physician, but his patient died and he's stuck without money to get home, literally sleeping rough because no one will answer his letters and he's out of cash. Jack meanwhile has a ship with no surgeon on it, and a vacancy, and they like one another, so it seems a simple solution. And so Stephen shall go to sea.

I suppose, really, that’s the genius of this series. The characters are round, complicated creatures, with obvious and consistent surface qualities but also equally consistent, apparently-contradictory, deeper qualities. Even minor characters sometimes possess this level of depth. Even the cartoony-awful little shit Harte (sometime captain, then admiral, the boss whose wife Jack has been fucking but in Jack's defense so is everybody else) has depths. Unpleasant depths, but he's got reasons and motivations and you do really believe in him; this pays off in book 8 in particular.

We meet Jack's first command, the Sophie, the loveliest tiniest little ship ever, staffed by a pack of utter weirdos. TOM PULLINGS makes his first appearance (he is my favorite supporting character throughout the series, so he will be capitalized henceforth) along with his delightful henchman (the other senior midshipman) Mowett who is James in his first and last appearances and most of the others but for some reason becomes William for a while in the middle, most notably in book 8, and has thus passed into the movie as William. Those are our master's mates, or senior midshipmen. In O'Brian's typical fashion we don't get really concrete physical descriptions of them in the normal sense, but instead get really evocative but nonspecific ones. TOM PULLINGS is "a big shy master's mate", elsewhere specified to be sort of gangly, long and thin, young, with a country accent and foremast-jack antecedents (i.e. started out as a regular sailor and was promoted, instead of the more normal approach where a family of means sends a son to sea as a midshipman), who absolutely blossoms under Jack Aubrey's leadership-by-enthusiastic-example, and we will see him through most of the rest of the series continuing on this trajectory with great competence and charming humbleness.

James Mowett gets a great introduction. He's had a few lines prior to this, mostly repetitively described as (and shown to be) cheerful and generally enthusiastic about things, running around and getting to be the one to fetch Stephen from the shore, and later we find out that he is a prolific writer of somewhat-terrible poetry, which we'll get plenty of excerpts of over the course of the series. But his first real description is:

“James Mowett was a tubular young man, getting on for twenty; he was dressed in old sailcoth trousers and a striped Guernsey shirt, a knitted garment that gave him very much the look of a caterpillar."

There are also the youngsters. Meet my beloved son William Babbington, a miniature midshipman of between eleven and thirteen who has every venereal disease and gets drunk a lot. He also cries and swears a whole lot, mostly while sober. I love him immoderately and we will see him in several more of the books. He never gets much taller or less obsessed with womanizing. Adolescence was hard in the Georgian era. (Yes, this is the Georgian era; the Victorian era does not begin for another thirty years.)

“'I suppose you grow used to living here,' [Stephen] observed, rising cautiously to his feet. 'At first it must seem a little confined.' 'Oh, sir,' said Mowett, 'think not meanly of this humble seat, Whence spring the guardians 'of the British fleet! Revere the sacred spot, however low, Which formed to martial acts an Hawke! An Howe !' 'Pay no attention to him, sir,' cried Babbington, anxiously. 'He means no disrespect, I do assure you, sir. It is only his disgusting way.”

Throughout this series, O'Brian so so so vividly shows and describes the many phases of awkwardness that young men go through especially in military settings. It's incredibly vivid; the breaking voices, the smells, the idiotic capers, the weeping, the complete lack of foresight, the incredible cruelty and also loyalty and bravery, the sheer adolescent enthusiasm coupled with shocking laziness.

We also get some insight into contemporary social mores through the introduction of Marshall, the sailing master (a warrant officer)-- 1) he's gay and 2) Jack Aubrey is extremely his type. Different people's different attitudes toward this unspool throughout various points of the book, but the critical point is that Jack Aubrey himself has absolutely zero gaydar and while he has heard the rumor about Marshall's tendencies, he doesn't care about that stuff, studiously avoids enforcing any of the regulations against it, and he absolutely never at any point relates this to himself, and never ever realizes why the man is so driven to excel at his job. Not even when an injury to his head and face gives Jack a horrible haircut and worse appearance, and Marshall is horrified and dispirited about it; Jack never twigs just what's amiss.

To be fair to Jack, many many many of the men aboard also respond to him in a similar, though crucially different, way. This is a common thing in this kind of cooped-up little setting; you have a guy who's in charge and gives you positive feedback and like, immediately you'll die for that guy, which is kind of how the military works because you may in fact have to literally die for that guy and it's easier if you're intrinsically motivated in some way. And Jack is very, very good at this in most cases, at taking the measure of the people under his command and getting them to respond to him.

(We can return to Mowett for an explicit example: “'You may light up the sloop, Mr Mowett, and show her our force: I don't want her to do anything foolish, such as firing a gun - perhaps hurting some of our people. Let me know when you have laid her aboard.' With this [Jack] retired, calling for a light and something hot to drink; and from his cabin he heard Mowett's voice, cracked and squeaking with the excitement of this prodigious command (he would happily have died for Jack), as under his orders the Sophie bore up and spread her wings.”)

Anyway so back to the plot summary: a very good side plot throughout is that the ship's first lieutenant, James Dillon, is an Irishman, and he and Stephen Maturin were both involved in the Irish rebellion in 1798. When they meet, James recognizes Stephen, and cautiously sounds him out about having met before, and Stephen very coolly replies we've never met but you must be thinking of my cousin who looks just like me but uglier, *so* ugly, he has the face of an informer, and everyone hates an informer and james is like Ah. You Are Absolutely Correct Sir We Have Never Met. This subplot develops into a delicious meditation on divided loyalties and the agony of staying true to oneself while doing what one must do. Highly recommended, A++. Begins to give us some insight into the various depths of Stephen, who doesn't understand tides or wind and hasn't the sense to come in out of the rain but has a deep and complicated history and identity and above all an incredible capacity for ruthlessness, absolutely none of which Jack understands.

Stephen and James in dialogue when they're finally in privacy enough to discuss it (Stephen is the first speaker, James the second):

“I speak only for myself, mind - it is my own truth alone - but man as part of a movement or a crowd is indifferent to me. He is inhuman. And I have nothing to do with nations, or nationalism. The only feelings I have -for what they are - are for men as individuals; my loyalties, such as they may be, are to private persons alone.'' "Patriotism will not do?'' "My dear creature, I have done with all debate. But you know as well as I, patriotism is a word; and one that generally comes to mean either my country, right or wrong, which is infamous, or my country is always right, which is imbecile." ''Yet you stopped Captain Aubrey playing Croppies Lie Down the other day.” "Oh, I am not consistent, of course; particularly in little things. Who is? He did not know the meaning of the tune, you know. He has never been in Ireland at all, and he was in the West Indies at the time of the rising. [...] But as for that song, I acted as I did partly because it is disagreeable to me to listen to it and partly because there were several Irish sailors within hearing, and not one of them an Orangeman; and it would be a pity to have them hate him when nothing in the manner of insult was within his mind's reach.”

uhhhhhhh but meanwhile: Jack Aubrey and the Sophies wreak havoc in the Mediterranean and make a lot of money and enemies, to the point that the local merchants band together to commission a fairly serious ship expressly to fuck them up. They meet this ship unsuspectingly, manage just in time to disguise themselves, and Stephen hails the ship and asks them in bad Spanish if they know anything about treating the plague, could they send a doctor over, could they spare any medicine. This scares them off and they go away. But now the Sophies know what this ship looks like and what armament it has. So the next time they meet it, they fight it, and so the tiny 14-gun Sophie with 82 men and boys aboard manages to capture the 32-gun Cacafuego with 319 men aboard, and it's very gallant and dashing and probably should not have worked, but it does.

And a little later, the Sophie accidentally meets a pair of very powerful French ships and gets taken in return despite doing some really heroic evasive manoevers.

The French are super nice to them, and we meet a French ship captain named Christy-Palliere who becomes a recurring character, who has English cousins and speaks great English and is both charming and nice, saying things like gather ye rose pods while ye may and being generally gallant. Until some even more powerful English ships heave into view, and the tables turn, but even then Christy-Palliere remains gallant and well-behaved.

We end the book with the court-martial. Any officer who loses his ship for any reason has to go before a court of sea captains to ascertain whether he did everything in his power to avoid losing his ship. So all the officers of the Sophie, including the midshipmen, including the surgeon, have to testify about this. (I feel like the other warrant officers should also have had to testify? but they weren't there and i'm not sure why. TOM PULLINGS is also not mentioned in the scene which he absolutely should be present for, so it's possible that they were just omitted for time.)

“They had each received an official notification the day before, and for some reason each had brought it with him, folded or rolled. After a while Babbington and Ricketts took to changing all the words they could into obscenities, secretly in a corner, while Mowett wrote and scratched out on the back of his, counting syllables on his fingers and silently mouthing. Lucock stared straight ahead of him into vacancy.”

Spoiler: the jury decides that there's not really anything more a 14-gun sloop could have done against two French ships of the line, so they exonerate Captain Aubrey for the loss of his sloop, and thus ends the book.

#aubreyad #stephen maturin #jack aubrey #TOM PULLINGS #liveblogging the aubreyad

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twstchaos · 1 year ago

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Day 430 of my daily visitor post with special bonus content, ehehe!!!

Hi, Idia, guess we’re starting a new streak.

~~~

Now to the special bonus content!!!

3…2…1

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JACK!!!

Thankies for the free 10pull for my GloMas Idia fund.

#welcome to ramshackle #idia shroud #lovey #ignihyde #for the twenty sixth time #twst login bonus #HAPPY BIRTHDAY JACK #wishing for jack to come home for those rolling for him #twisted wonderland #disney twst

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thewritingofspencerrose · 1 year ago

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Midterm Madness

Luke Hughes x OC

"Babe?" His rough, sleep-filled voice mumbles, rolling over in our bed. "What are you doing up?"

"Oh God, did I wake you?" I answer instead, dulling the screen of my laptop that sits in front of me. "I've been trying so hard to type quietly." Okay, that wasn't the answer Lu was looking for, based on how adorably confused he is right now, curls everywhere.

"It's- two in the morning Baby, why aren't you asleep?" He tries again, pulling the textbook off my lap, "And what is this?"

"I have a midterm in the morning, I was just studying now since I didn't have a chance to today at the hospital and then I got home with barely enough time to make dinner before you and Ja -"

"I wish you would have told me Baby," He interrupts, rolling on top of me and preventing any further studying. "I don't want you to feel like you have to cook for the Jack and I when you spend the night here, especially after a shift or on an exam night."

"But I enjoy it, it's like sitting down to family dinner and I don't get those when I go home," I can't help but remind, because it's the truth. He was there during my parents divorce last year when my sister left for school and made them an empty nester. He knows what was lost, and the Hughes family did their best to fill it in.

"How can I help with..." Are the next words out of his mouth, his strong arms pulling my back into his chest, holding the textbook in his hands as if he were reading. "Biochemical reactions?"

"I appreciate your efforts baby but you have practice tomorrow, and-"

"And nothing. Come on, if you're up, I'm up, and we're going to overnight this like when we were in Michigan," He demands, moving from the bed and taking all of his warmth with him. Throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, he tosses me his hoodie, my favorite one, and holds out his hand, taking my books and computer from me. "We're going to make some tea, settle down at the dining table, and get this shit done, okay?"

"Okay, I can agree to these terms," I can't help but agree, seeing the soft smile he's using on me, pulling his sweatshirt over my head and throwing my hair up. "We've got this."

"Hell yeah we do," Lu assures, leaving me to follow him as he exits his room, sprawling all of my things across the table, only pausing when another male voice interrupts the silence of the room from the couch.

"Moose? Mayday?" Jack's voice is the one to call, his head ducking up over the back of the couch, game controller in hand and brows in the sky. "What are you two doing up?"

"Mae has a midterm in the morning so we're going to study for it," Lu answers, turning to me, "Want to grab the snacks and drinks? You need fuel if we're going to survive this."

"Yes sir," I answer with a mock salute, wandering away with the boys chattering in the back ground. It's on my return that I pause, seeing both boys sitting at the table with their noses in my textbook. "Boys?"

"Can't have my future sister-in-law bombing an exam now can I? Who else is going to patch me up when I get into another fight?" And while it's a joke, you can see in his body language how much he does care.

"What fight? I thought that brawl with Aho wasn't a fight?" I can't help but chirp, his eyes rolling and Luke laughs, pulling me down to sit next to him, his lips meeting my forehead.

"Yeah, you think you're so funny Doc, now tell me, what's the golgi apparatus?"

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #nhl fanfiction #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #jack hughes #nj devils #new jersey devils #nhl oneshot

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gicosmo · 7 months ago

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Damn Those Marstons

Jack Marston x Fem!Reader.

Hey, RDR fans! I got into RDR2 a few months back and I literally binge watched play throughs of RDR1. This angsty idea for Jack popped up(because he can never be happy😔) and I just had to write it!

Synopsis: You’ve been with Jack for a few months now. When he asks you to meet his family, you would’ve never thought you would be meeting one of the two outlaws who killed your father.

Warnings: Takes place during RDR1(1914)(Jack is nineteen), alternate universe where the Marston family lives a bit longer lol, John uses his fake name ‘Jim Milton’, a little bit of arguing, just really sad angst.

“Can I tell you both somethin’?” Jack piped up at the dinner table, placing his spoon down into his bowl. Abigail and John immediately looked up at him, confusion written on both of their faces. It was pretty unusual for Jack to get all serious at random. Abigail nodded, “Of course. You can tell us anything, Jack.” She reached over, giving a gentle reassuring pat on his shoulder.

John remained quiet, observing his son. If anything, he was quite on edge, not wanting any bad news. Jack took a deep breath before a smile appeared on his face, “I’ve been seeing this lady. God— Ma, you’ll love her! She’s the sweetest, most loving lady you’ll meet.” Jack’s eyes sparkled as he went on a rant about his girlfriend. Abigail and John were shocked in the moment, but then proceeded to smile. They would be lying to themselves if they said they weren’t happy that Jack had finally found someone.

John chuckled as he looked at Abigail, “Looks like our boy is head over heels! When can we meet her, son?” Jack paused, thinking for a moment.

“How about tomorrow?” Jack answered, looking over at his mother, “If that’s okay with you, ma.”

Abigail laughed, nodding her head, “Of course it’s okay with me! I’ll cook a nice dinner for the four of us! I can’t wait to meet her.”

Jack was ecstatic! He was in his bed, looking up at the ceiling being unable to fall asleep. He couldn’t wait for you to meet his family. His mind was racing until he eventually tired himself out.

In the morning Jack was already at your front door. You opened it with a bright smile on your face, “Well I wasn’t expecting you today. Why do you have the dumb smile on your face? What are you planning?” You walked up to him, Jack leaning down to plant a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“I ain’t planning nothin’! Just… Will you come have dinner with my parents? Today?” Jack blurted out. It was evident he was pretty excited about this. You were taken aback by this. Dinner? With his parents?

You giggled sheepishly, “Geez, Jack. I wish you told me this sooner. I don’t think I got any nice clothes to give a good first impression…” Jack shook his head, grabbing your hands into his, “No need for fancy clothes no nothing. My parents don’t care about your wealth. They care about who you are.”

His words melted your heart. Jack bent down, pulling you in for a soft tender kiss. You always loved how gentle he was with you. Once he pulled away, you stepped back into your home, “Let me tell my mother i’ll be gone for a while. Mind waiting out here while I get ready?”

“Anything for you, darlin’.”

-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-

After getting ready, Jack helped you onto his horse and rode back to his home. The horse ride wasn’t silent what so ever as Jack couldn’t help but tell you how excited he was. All you could do was smile. It was nice seeing your lover get so excited about something.

Once you both arrive at Beechers Hope, he helped you off of the horse. He held your hand as you both walked up the step of his home. Abigail opened the door with a smile, “Why, hello! You must be the little lady Jack has been talking on and on about!” She walked up to you, giving you a friendly hug.

“Cmon now Ma— Don’t embarrass me like that…” Jack muttered, scratching his head and turning away out of embarrassment. Abigail rolled her eyes, “There’s nothing embarrassing about loving a lady! Now come on in! Dinner is almost ready!” She led you both inside the house, the scent of a good meal in the air.

“Where’s Pa?” Jack questioned, pulling a chair out for you to sit in. Abigail sighed and shrugged, “Joh— I mean, Jim went out a while ago. He said he’ll be back. He most definitely doesn’t want to miss out on this.” She reassured Jack.

Abigail sat down at the table with the both of you. She seemed like a lovely young woman. Sweet yet had a fierce aura to her. She questioned you about your home life, how you met Jack, all the basic questions a parent would ask their child’s lover.

You were honest with her. You told her how it was just you and your mother since your father was killed by some bad people when you were a kid. You spoke about how you only had some insight of two of the men who took your father’s life, hoping you wouldn’t run into them again. You spoke about how you met Jack while shopping for books, how the love for literature brought you both together.

Talking with Abigail felt so natural, both of you didn’t seem to notice someone enter the home. Jack smiled, “Took you long enough, sir.” You turned your head and immediately froze. All you could do was stare at the man with scars on his face.

“Took you long enough, Jim!” Abigail got up, gently slapping her husband’s arm. The man looked at you and smiled, “You must be the lovely lady Jack can’t shut up about! Nice to meet ya! I’m Jim. Jim Milton! You’ve already met Abigail…” You couldn’t hear his words anymore. Everything your boyfriend has told you was a lie.

There was no one named Jim Milton in this home. There wasn’t a Milton at all. The man in front of you was none other than John Marston. Jack wasn’t a Milton either. He was a Marston. They all were.

Your vision became blurry, your ears were ringing so loud. You couldn’t think straight. What could you do? What can you do?

You needed to leave.

“Hun? You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost…” You snapped back into reality as Jack held your hands gently, looking at you with concern. You gently pushed him away, shaking your head.

“I need to leave. Excuse me.” You pushed Jack out of the way, but he immediately grabbed your wrist. “Hey hey, what’s wrong? Did we do something? Did I do something?” Jack questioned, obviously really confused and concerned.

That’s when you just snapped. You couldn’t take the pain anymore.

“As a matter of fact you did do something. Marston.” You spat at him, Jack instantly taken aback by your outburst. Abigail gasped, her hands cupping over her mouth. John froze, if anything he was terrified at the fact that you knew who they were.

“Is this what people like you do, Marston!? You kill people who had families to go back to while you’re here living a great life with your family!?” You yelled at John. Jack glanced at his father, confused and utterly shocked.

Tears fell from your face as you shook your head, “You took my father from me. I was just a kid… How come you can live your best life, seeing your child grow up… But my father can’t?” You looked at all three of them before looking at Jack,

“I can’t be with the son of an outlaw. Especially to the outlaw that took my father’s life,” You looked back at John and Abigail, “If you’re worried about me telling others about where you live, don’t. I get nothing out of revenge. Just know that your actions will catch up to you. You can never leave your old life to live a new. It happened to my father, it will happen to you.”

You walked towards the front door, “I hope you all enjoy your lives. Goodbye.” With that, you left the home. You heard the front door swing up, footsteps rushing towards you. Turning around, it was Jack.

“Darlin’! Please, don’t leave. Look, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I know my Pa has done some horrible things— But I swear he’s a changed man!” Jack pulled you into an embrace, “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in so long. I— I love you…”

Jack’s words were sincere. They really were. But you couldn’t shake the disgusting feeling off of you. You gently pushed him off from you,

“Jack. I love you— Well… I loved you too. But I know my father would be rolling in his grave knowing I was dating the son of the man who killed him.”

Jack’s heart sunk. He couldn’t do anything but watch you walk away. What can he even say? It wasn’t long until John came out to check up on his son.

John reached down to place a hand on Jack’s shoulder, immediately getting rejected by him. Jack glared at his father, “Damnit old man, You’ve made my life a living hell. I can forgive you for so many other things you’ve done. But this? I don’t know if I can.”

Jack bumped his father’s shoulder as he walked back into the house. Abigail tried to comfort him, but he immediately shut that down. John and Abigail had a lot to talk about.

It took you a long while to get back home. Your mother greeted you with a loving smile, but all you could do was cry in her arms. She didn’t question nor judge you, she did what a mother does best and held you. Telling you it was going to be okay.

Damn those Marstons.

Damn that sweet loving boy you fell in love with.

And damn your heart for still loving him.

#red dead redemption #jack marston #jack marston x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr #john marston #abigail marston

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absurdthirst · 1 year ago

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Birthday Wishes {Agent Whiskey x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Jack being absolutely besotted, public sexual activities, vaginal fingering, slight exhibitionism, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms

Comments: Jack promises to make your birthday a night to remember.

💝🎉🎊🎁Happy Birthday @wardenparker!!!!! You are an amazing friend and co-writer, I am lucky that you want to spend time with a nut like me! I hope you have an amazing birthday today. 💝🎉🎊🎁

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“Sugar, you are as pretty as a picture and twice as sweet.” Your eyes shift from the mirror where you had been carefully touching up your makeup under the bright bulbs of your vanity to where Jack’s warm brown eyes are watching you. They darken slightly and on edge of that cock mouth curls up and lifts his neatly trimmed mustache. You know what is about to come out of his mouth. “We can always stay home and have our own celebration right here, sans clothes.”

It shouldn’t be tempting, but when Jack Daniels is your lover, your partner, it’s always on the table. The man could talk you out of plans and out of your clothes so fast, your head would be spinning. And not just from that talented mouth eating your pussy like it was nectar of the Gods.

“You always say that, Jack.” “‘Cause you always tempt me to keep you for myself, sugar.” Strong, warm arms slide around your soft stomach and he squeezes you tight as his nose and mouth burrow in at your shoulder. Giving you a view of his artfully combed hair. The cowboy hat hadn't gone on his head, just yet. “Fuck, you always smell so good.”

It was the perfume he had bought you. One of the first gifts he had brought from a mission when he had decided to ‘court’ you. His words, although you find the old fashioned vernacular charming and very fitting. Jack might be crass at times, but at others he is the height of a southern gentleman.

His mustache tickles and makes you shiver, followed by his hot mouth ghosting over your pulse and pressing petal soft kisses to your skin. Making gooseflesh pebble your skin and your eyes slip closed as you sigh out his name.

He’s good at distracting you. Those large hands sliding over your stomach and traveling up to cup your breasts. His groan against your skin is low, already husky rumble even raspier as he slowly massages the flesh in his hands through your bra. You hadn’t dressed yet, waiting until your hair and makeup is done before you slide your dress on.

“Jack.” You whine, eyes half closed and your lips poised in a pout as you instinctively lean to the side to give him more room to do whatever he wants with your body. “You planned tonight.” You remind him.

“Next time, smack me upside the head.” He huffs, reluctantly pulling away from where he was nibbling on your shoulder to send you an playfully unhappy look in the mirror. “For being such a fool to think I wouldn’t want to keep you home and to myself.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you smirk and lift a brow. “Finish getting ready, Mr. Daniels.” You chide. “You promised me a night out for my birthday and that is exactly what I am getting.”

Letting go of your tits, Jack winks at you and grins. “Of course you are, sugar.” He promises with a smirk. “Tonight is going to be a night you never forget.”

****

“Jack!” Your surprised squeal is muffled against his jacket, although you shouldn’t be surprised. Jack’s fingers, push aside the material of your panties and those thick, nimble fingers quickly find your sex slick with desire. “We are in public!”

“So?” His chuckle fans out warmly over your skin and he rubs your bundle of nerves before his thumb presses against it and two fingers push slowly inside you. “No one is paying attention and I can’t help myself.” He defends. “You are too appealing, sugar. Sittin’ here lookin’ like an angel wrapped in sin.”

The pressing curl of his fingers steals your ability to answer. Mouth dropped open in a soundless moan, only the tiniest squeak manages to sound, barely even reaching his ear except he’s listening for it.

“Hmmmm.” He rumbles, making sure that he curls his body around you in the booth in the most intimate corner of the restaurant. While he loves pushing the boundaries of propriety, he doesn’t want anyone to actually see you. Your pleasure is his alone. “What’s that, sugar?” He coos softly. “I didn’t hear you.”

Turning your head, you feel the way that he is absolutely playing your pussy like it’s a stringed instrument. Moaning softly into his ear, your body pulls taunt and starts to roll with the plunge of his fingers. It’s wicked and filthy, letting him finger you right here in the middle of the trendiest restaurant around, the possibility of anyone catching you running high as waiters and guests run around. Still, your fingers grip the fabric of his suit coat and you let him do whatever he wishes to your body as you respond to him.

The drag of his fingers in and out of your velvet walls makes you hiss in pleasure, the way they pulse around his thick digits similar to how he feels when he is working his cock inside you. Nerve endings firing in pleasure and making the knot in your belly grow every time he pushes them deep.

“Jack.” You pant softly, trying to keep your voice down as your eyes dart around the room. It makes him chuckle, but the pressure against your clit and the movement of his fingers never pauses.

“You’re gonna cum for me, sugar.” He promises. “Your pretty little pussy is gonna weep around my fingers and give me a little treat to suck on that will be more delicious than the best dessert in this place.” His chuckle is low and raspy. “Hell, I’d rather set you up on the table and feast on you.”

He would probably do it, if you were at home. Your table has often been the scene of countless couplings. Now he just intends to make you whine and whimper, shaking with pleasure in public.

Your finger nails dig into the fabric of his suit, clutching for purchase, to ground you so you don’t go floating away on a cloud of ecstasy while the entire restaurant watches. The wine on the table is barely touched and yet you feel like your head is swimming, thoughts fuzzy to everything but the press of his fingers.

Jack’s dark eyes watch you, sparkling encouragement from their dark depths. His lips pulled into a smirk as every pass of his fingers rockets you closer to having to muffle a cry. He’s enjoying your pleasure. If you were to reach down and take a squeeze of his cock, you would find him hard as a rock.

“Just a little more, sugar.” He coos, leaning in and kissing your jaw. “Just a little more and your sweet pussy will be singin’ for me. Can you do that? Can you cum in my fingers and let me have a little taste of you?”

The raw, rough pitch of his voice and the next swipe of his finger pushes you over the edge. Turning and burying your face against his neck, your muffled moan is barely heard outside your little booth, breathed into the fabric of his suit. “Jack, oh God, Jack.” You whimper, the quiver of your cunt following the molten slick that coats his fingers and makes him hum in satisfaction.

“That’s it, sugar, cream on ole Jack’s fingers for me.” He whispers in praise, working you through it and humming as your flutter walls start to slow. “Good girl,” He likes the way you pant against his collar, looking just for the world like a woman who is snuggled against her man. “Ride it out.”

Jack’s fingers work you until he can sense that you want him to stop and slowly pull out of your wet heat. The sticky sounds make him grin and his napkin comes up with his hand to cover him discreetly licking his finger clean with a small groan of pleasure.

Your face flames hot when the server glides back over to the table, either unaware of what had just happened or the soul of discretion to not mention that you are still slightly panting from the way he had just turned your world upside down. Clearing your plates and assuring you that dessert was already on the way.

Turning towards Jack with a surprised look, you can tell that he had pre-planned this by the very pleased look on his face as he nods and picks up his champagne glass. “To another year that we - and I mean all of us - have been graced with your presence and blessed by your existence.” He taps his glass to yours. “Happy Birthday, sugar.”

You take a sip of your frothy, bubbly champagne and he winks at you. “This is only the beginning.” He promises, having planned out the entire night out to make sure you know how special you are to him and how much he loves you.

“Jack.” You huff, almost embarrassed having his attention centered on you like you always are. When Jack is focused, that is the only thing that matters in the world and right now, that focus is on you.

“Baby girl, you deserve a night that is all your own.” He insists, lips pushed into a pout and winks at you. “I’m going to make sure of it.” A promise that you know that he will not be satisfied until he makes good on.

****

“Jaaaaaaaack.” Your hips jerk and lift under his firm grip, not going anywhere but where he wishes for you to. Completely in control and taking you apart lick by lick as his tongue curls and flicks over your swollen clit. Wrenching moan after unhinged moan out of you as he builds you up for yet another peak.

You don’t know how long it has been since you last shuddered apart under the coaxing of his tongue, it might have been thirty seconds ago or an hour. Time is suspended when you look down to see his mustache pressed against your mound and his sharply curved nose breathing in the heady scent of your pleasure.

Jack is meticulous. Bringing you into the house and starting to strip you down. His lips covering every inch of your body and making sure that he whispers praises into your skin as he scatters them artistically on your skin. Fingers trailing as he slowly drags your dress down to let it pool at your feet before sliding under the straps of your bra to pull them down your arms. Stripping much more than your clothes as he undresses you, he’s stripping away the layers of protection and armor until there is nothing left but you and him.

That is when Jack’s true talent comes out. That mouth. It can be used for quick witted banter or issuing threats that he has the training to back up, sarcastic quips or for smooth reassurances. The best use for it though is when he puts his mouth on you.

Jack Daniels is a cocky son of a bitch, but he knows what he is doing. He spends the time making sure that he knows every spot on your body that would make you sing his name. Carefully and meticulously mapping your pleasure points to use against you.

Smirking against your cunt, Jack chuckles and flicks his tongue against your clit once more. Pushing you over the edge and you come with a wail of his name. Watching as your entire world explodes and your eyes flutter while you gasp out. Working you through it with a slow suckle on your sex that keeps extending the pleasure and twisting it higher inside you.

Your fingers tangle into the sheets, the only thing keeping you from floating away as your body shakes and heat floods your system. His name is the only thing that you can manage to say over and over again. Falling off your tongue in gasping praise while your thighs press around his ears and squeeze them tight.

By the time that he is kissing up your body and settling between your thighs, you are finally floating back down to earth. Cognizant of the smug smirk that rides on his face as he slides up to kiss your lips and nudges his nose against yours. “I love you, sugar.”

The sentiment is perfect for the moment that he slides inside you. Filling and stretching you out the way that only he can. Your head tilts back and your moan is soft, your legs starting to wrap around his waist. Enjoying the weight of him on top of you and surrounding you. Consuming you.

Every thrust is slow and measured, letting you feel him. Experience the slow pulses inside you and the sharp twitches as he rocks you both higher. Words of love and praise passing between you with languid kisses.

“I love you sugar.” Jack groans, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

Nothing on earth could ever beat birthday wishes from Jack. Nothing.

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mybworlds · 10 months ago

Text

CHAPTER 7

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Before to start... thank you for your support, for your likes and reblog, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️

If you like it pls leave a like/comment/reblog it, if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful!

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

Grocery shopping with Joel is an experience that turned out to be more fun perhaps than it should have been as Joel would just run from one aisle to another, leaning on the shopping cart whenever you told him to wait because you were watching what to get. If it were up to him, he would take prepared and powdered stuff only, and when that happened, you would turn your nose up at it and make him put it down or put it down yourself.

In short, you learned one thing: Joel can't do grocery shopping.

You smile as you're walking back to his house-he has a trunk full of bags and edibles, he'll be fine for weeks probably!

You help him arrange the groceries in the fridge, in the pantry, he takes things out of the bags and you put them away. From time to time you cast glances at each other, which to you means gratitude, to him perhaps more, you try not to ask.

"I've to go now. I have to talk to my mother," you tell him wearing your jacket again.

"I'll accompany you." he offers.

You shake your head "No, Joel, I'd like to take a walk."

"It's far." he reminds you.

"I know, but…I'd still like to go alone. Thank you anyway." he nods lowering his gaze for a brief moment "Joel" you go on approaching him "thank you for everything, really."

"Anytime." he says.

You throw your arms around his neck and hug him, he returns the hug strongly. Your heart is pounding in your chest, you cannot explain what is happening. You hide your face in his neck and inhale deeply his strong scent with your eyes closed, you wonder why for you there is never a situation as simple and precise as the one you experienced before when you were helping him grocery shop, everything had been so natural at that moment, your glances, your smiles, him showing you the things to buy and you shaking your head making him roll his eyes. You almost looked like--

"Bye." you say loosening your grip and turning your back immediately, or you would never leave.

Those brown eyes, his scent, his smile. They almost bewitched you.

It shouldn't be that way. Because you're dating another guy, not Joel, but then why his presence becomes more and more cumbersome, more and more present, more and more powerful, more and more all-encompassing with each passing second?

You wish it wasn't so.

The phone vibrates, there is a new message from Jack.

You read the message, "Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?"

You look around and shake your head "Not tonight. I have to resolve an urgent matter at home."

Writing this, you block the phone and continue.

You don't feel like going out tonight. You need to talk to your mother, it's true.

But not only. You want to be alone.

When you knock on the front door, your mother immediately opens it: she is made-up, wearing a hideous pajamas that she wears when she doesn't feel well or is in a bad mood. As soon as she sees you, her face lights up and she throws her arms around your neck.

"Hi, Mom." you say when you are still clinging to her.

"Come." she says letting you in.

You go inside almost in small steps, as if you feel like an intruder entering your own home.

"May I?" you ask, looking away from your mother.

"It's your house, you don't even have to ask." she replies closing the door "I'm the one who has to apologize to you, not for letting you find Leo in the house, but for not talking to you." she sighs "I should have told you everything, or at least mentioned. We'll talk later if it's okay with you." you nod "Come, I ordered sushi."

You eat in silence. You never liked sushi much, but once in a while you pretend to like it, and you do it for your mother, for your messy, chaotic mother who strives to keep everything under control all the time, but who, it seems, cannot do so without being overwhelmed herself by all the events that life puts in front of her.

Both of you talk. For the first time without filters, without 'you must,' for the first time you talk to her and she listens to you; you tell her about Joel - well, you don't tell her everything everything everything - you explain he's become your music teacher and you go to him, no longer to Tommy's; she tells you about Leo and the way they met: she met him during a break from one of her endless hospital shifts, during that break they had talked so much and shared so much it had seemed to them they had known each other all their lives.

Initially they saw each other like this in the hospital when it happened only, she tells you, then they began to date each other during their shifts to have coffee and exchange some confidences, that was where it all started. When Leo had revealed to her he was married, your mother was already in love with him, she knows she is wrong to see a married man, she tells you, however, she loves him and cannot do without him, she feels guilty toward the man's wife and his two children, but at the moment she cannot avoid these meetings.

You make an effort not to judge her, even though you think she is making a mistake in dating this man, but rather advise her to distance herself from him a bit to really understand how she feels about him.

It's the same advice you gave yourself regarding Joel, don't see him to fully understand how you feel about him, whether it's just attraction or whether there's more to it.

Your mother smiles sweetly at you, "I'm sorry I relied so little on you, I'm sorry I didn't give you the right amount of wiggle room in your life. I've been a terrible parent. Oppressive. Sorry. In fact, if you want -- why don't you have your friends over tonight? I promise to go to bed early, but especially not to eavesdrop on any of your conversations," your mother says.

Your eyes light up and you throw your arms around her neck "Thank you, Mom, thank you, thank you." you give her a kiss on the cheek "Then I'll throw a sleepover party complete with pizza!" you exclaim on a high.

Your friends are delighted to come over to your house, you slip into your big pajamas with obscene patterns and fluorescent colors, then you open the pizza boxes and put play on the first movie on Netflix that comes your way, luckily it is a comedy-romance movie, therefore, it meets the tastes of all of you. When the movie is over, you hear your mother close her bedroom door to go to sleep.

That's when your moment of confidences begins: Kristen confides in you about a meeting with a guy at a graphic design master's program, he's very cute, but he's already engaged and she doesn't know whether to try anyway or let it go. You advise her to let it go, Gina and Helen instead urge her to go ahead and see what happens, bad luck he doesn't pick up on the signals and she can move on to the next guy. Gina tells about her erotic encounter two nights before with a guy in a bar, very nice, great speaker and especially one who is very good with oral sex.

"And what about you about John and Joel?" asks Helen.

"You too with 'John,' his name is Jack. J - A - C - K. Jack!" you exclaim.

"Yes, yes, he -- because who else calls him John?" asks Helen again.

"Joel. Last night…"

"You went to him?!" exclaims Gina raising her voice.

You shush her, "Yes, I went to him last night. Now I explain."

You tell them about what happened with your mother, how it had upset you and how you had found refuge at Joel's house, how he had welcomed you and made you feel welcomed, the kiss you gave each other, the shopping you did together the next day.

"I tell you again, when are you going to dip his fingers in your honey jar?" Helen asks making you blush conspicuously.

"What you're experiencing with him, you'll admit is weird," says Gina, you nod "I mean, you got close right away, so why not try it? I'm not saying have sex with him right away, but why not try to be closer to him, more intimate, and then maybe even that?"

"Maybe you don't like it though because Jack is there, but what if Jack wasn't there? Would you be more sure about being with Joel?" asks Kristen.

"Girls, you are forgetting one important thing: I am a virgin, in every sense of the word. I don't know anything about men, how to get intimate with a man, how to do certain things, things that maybe to you, Gina, are obvious. And then he had an affair that ended, it seems, badly that shook him up a lot and he has a daughter -- somewhere. I'm only 29 years old. I don't know if I can handle all this load," you confide to them.

"It's normal to be afraid," Helen reassures you, laying a hand on yours, "But if you don't try you'll never know."

"Now are you talking about Joel or Jack?"

"Both." she answers you "It seems to me you are using Jack as an alibi with Joel and Joel as an alibi with Jack. You are afraid. And again it's normal." she continues "But try to go a little bit further, I don't say go straight to the point, but maybe go out, dress a little bit more provocatively--"

"Yes, I can lend you a couple of my clothes!" exclaims Gina enthusiastically.

"Maybe try to get a little closer and then see what happens," Helen continues.

"We're talking about Jack now."

"Yes." says Helen again.

"Even with Joel, maybe try going somewhere, I don't know--maybe to a restaurant, a theater," says Gina.

"Joel is not the theater type, in fact he likes hiking, the smell of wood," you tell them.

"Then with Joel you are facilitated." resumes Gina "But, man, you have to figure out first who you feel most comfortable with, but more importantly who you are really interested in. Don't keep your foot in two stirrups. It happened to me once and it was a total disaster. You would end up losing 'em both."

That night you have a lot of nightmares. However, even though you wake up in a state of complete agitation, you decide you need to define this interest of yours.

You call Jack and ask him for a date, perhaps at the diner. Nothing romantic or special, but a way to meet him again and try to understand.

He tells you he is at the library this morning studying for an exam, but invites you to join him anyway. He would enjoy your company, he tells you.

You inform Gina about this meeting, and so she almost drags you to her house, or rather actually drags all of you friends to her house.

She makes you try on first a red one-shoulder sheath dress with a pair of shoes with a vertiginous heel, you risk falling and breaking an ankle; so, you shake your head and they roll their eyes.

A second dress is ankle-length ochre with a plunging neckline and a pair of stilettos underneath; you don't like that either.

The third is a midnight blue dress that is mid-thigh length, there is no neckline, and underneath you put on a pair of knee-length boots. It's perfect, you like it, and then you think you can also wear it to the library, maybe put a nice coat over it, and to the diner.

"You look like a nun." comments Gina disapprovingly.

"I like it." comment Kristen and Helen in chorus.

You smile at them, thank them, and then head for the library.

In the city's huge library you went there several times and all of them in secret from your mother, there you borrowed books of various kinds, mostly literature texts as you were strongly interested in literature especially English and Spanish, and as you read your imagination was fed and grew more and more until you wanted to write books.

This desire, however, is still confined to a corner of your head.

You go in, leave your bag in the locker and take the key with you, then use the key card to gain access inside and thus gain access to the reading section. Jack tells you he is in section 55. Your footsteps echo through the huge hallway, as you gradually pass the various sections and observe the hundreds of people hunched over books or reaching out to the various shelves in search of volumes.

You breathe in deeply the smell of the many books stored inside the library and smile, you have always loved that very special smell, the smell of time and history.

You have arrived at section 55 and you immediately see Jack hunched over a thick volume, you see him jotting something down in a notebook and then paying attention to the tome again. He looks so focused that he's almost funny. You approach him, gently placing a hand on his forearm, and he, so engrossed in what he is doing, jerks back.

"H - hello." he greets you with a bewildered look.

"Hi, I'm sorry I scared you," you say with a small smile.

"No, it's okay. Forgive my reaction to your wonderful sight." he says making you smile "Come, have a seat." he adds moving his jacket to another chair.

You sit down next to him and observe him "You look tired." you comment.

He smiles with a more relaxed air "Yes, the exam is in less than three weeks. It's right just before Christmas. I'm very tense. I could really use a distraction." he says looking at you.

"Would I be the distraction?" you ask him in a whisper.

He nods "You are a wonderful distraction." he says stroking your face. His hands are soft and gentle against your skin.

He looks at you, "Did you dress like that for me?"

You blush "I wanted to change it up a bit." you say "The dress is not mine, a friend lent it to me."

"You dress simpler, in fact." he agrees "I don't know if I like a different version of you. You are beautiful as you are, even in your simplicity."

"Thank you." you say lowering your gaze for a moment "Now study though, I don't want to bother you."

He smiles at you and then returns to his concentration, you occasionally shake his hand or he shakes your hand, you exchange smiles; the afternoon passes in total simplicity and for you it is splendid like that, perhaps what you need is someone who makes you feel good about the little things.

Jack then takes a little break by going to a cafeteria not far from there, of course he invites you to eat with him and it's another nice moment: with him you get to talk about literature, about authors from contemporary literature, from the Romantic era, with him you even get to draw parallels with contemporary music and authors, in short you get to talk about topics that not everyone understands or is interested in.

"I may perhaps seem premature or perhaps cheeky," he says when he has finished studying for this afternoon and you are both lying on the lawn of the park not far from the library, "but I like you very much." your heart beats hard in your chest "I am perfectly fine with you and I hope it will be the same for you," he adds, intertwining his fingers with yours and bringing your hand close to his lips, he kisses it gently.

You blush visibly, but decide to say something so as not to leave that brief statement of his like that "I'm fine with you too." he smiles at you "Shall we have dinner together tomorrow?" you propose.

He nods, smiling at you.

When he drives you home, you are about to get out of the car, but he stops you by saying your name, you turn around, and he kisses you. He literally rushes against your face, it almost hurt that kiss, he's visibly sweaty and the kiss is salty, but other than that taste, you can't feel anything you hoped for. No heartbeat due to that falling in love that you've been extolling to your friends or telling Joel about and that held you back when you kissed him, no dizziness. Your heart beats yes, but painfully because you realize that maybe you were wrong. Big time.

"Sorry about the kiss." he tells you "I haven't kissed in a long time." he justifies himself.

You smile embarrassed "It's okay. Good night." you tell him as you get off and enter the building.

When you are in your room by now, you slip out of the dress Gina lent you and stow your boots in the shoe rack, slip into your pajamas and think back to the kiss you exchanged with Joel, how much you felt wanted and how much more importantly you wanted that kiss, then you think about the kiss Jack gave you and how you felt nothing. Maybe getting Jack to kiss you was a mistake, not the kiss given to Joel.

You get a message from Gina "So how did it go with Jack?"

"Good. I'll tell u later." you answer very coldly and then lock the phone and put it on charge, you don't feel like talking.

You stare at the ceiling for a long time, then finally fall asleep.

The next morning, you go to work. It's very early and very cold. Your boots produce a resounding shuffling along the still semi-deserted streets of the town. When you get a few yards away, you see Joel standing outside, waiting for the bar to open. That morning it's your turn to open, but he's not there for you because you never told him that you, Helen, Maxime and Sam take turns opening the bar.

When he sees you he lifts his gaze from the floor and his face almost lights up "Hello." he greets you.

That heartbeat, that familiar heartbeat you feel when you see him, begins again.

"Hi." you greet him "Have you been here long?"

"No, 'bout ten minutes. I thought it opened at six." he replies.

Actually, judging by the flushed face it would seem he has been there for at least half an hour, but you decide to ignore that white lie.

"I couldn't get up this morning." you confess to him "I'm sorry you froze." you add, as you slip the key into the deadbolt and then remove it; then, you open the shutter with a clatter "Come." you say with a wave of your hand "I'll turn on the boiler." you warn him, slipping off your jacket and walking to the small dressing room of you barmaids. So you turn on the boiler, which starts immediately with a small puff.

"Done." you say when you return to Joel who greets you with a big smile, "Sorry, but for your coffee you have to wait a while. The engines still need to warm up." you inform him jokingly and smile at him as well.

"No problem. I was anticipating on purpose." you look at him questioningly "By 7:30 I have to be at work." you nod, in the process making those almost automatic gestures "The truth is, I was anticipating on purpose to see you." you look at him "I wanted to know how you were and how it was going with your mother." he adds looking into your eyes.

You go around the counter and sit next to him on the stool, "I'm fine. I mean, we talked and it had never happened. Never. In twenty-nine years I've never felt so free, so understood." you reply, then look him in the eyes "Even though the first person who listened to me, who pushed me to open my eyes was you." you add taking his hands in an uncalculated gesture, in an affectionate gesture "Thank you."

"You're welcome, sweety, I didn't do anything special," he tells you, stroking the back of your hand with his calloused thumbs.

You look at his face for a few seconds then lower your gaze for a moment, "I need to tell you one more thing."

Joel tightens his grip on your hands just a little more and then looks at you with an almost icy gaze as if he has already guessed the subject.

"Jack kissed me," you tell him, biting your lower lip softly, "And he told me he liked me a lot."

Joel abruptly lets go of your hands as if he had caught the current and stands up, "Excuse me, but I'm not going to listen to this!" he blurts out, "I'm glad you're happy and that you're clear-headed 'bout it now." you see him nodding as if he's performing an inner struggle, he's about to say and do something, but then he reconsiders, "Now I have to go, um… I'll see you in a couple of days for class." having said that he quickly turns his back on you and leaves.

"And he ran away," you conclude, recounting what happened to your friends.

You are sitting in a small diner downtown at a small circular table with oak benches, and in front of each of you there's a different drink.

"He's obviously jealous, Daddy," says Gina.

"Daddy?! Where do you get off using that obscene nickname, Gina!" exclaims Helen "Well, he's obviously jealous, otherwise he wouldn't have run away." adds your friend.

Kristen twirls the ice cube in her Old - fashioned absently.

"I'm so confused." you add "Maybe I shouldn't have confided in him, maybe I made a mistake in trying to be his friend, in making him a sort of my confidant because he can't. Maybe I should cut it off," you say again.

"What if Jack is the wrong one? Have you thought about that?" interjects Helen "Why are you convinced that Jack is the one? You don't seem to have much transport for him, just look at the way you talk about him."

"Why how do I talk about him?" you ask.

"You talk about Jack as well as an acquaintance who's had a few cents stolen from him," Kristen finally interjects.

"And how do I talk about Joel instead?"

"When you talk about him you revive yourself, you put passion, involvement," Kristen replies again.

"But why don't you spend a night of unrestrained clarifying sex with him?" asks Gina fidgeting on the bench.

You snort, "I think you're the one who has to do it! Gina, Joel and I are nothing, I can't go over there and say, let's have sex, he'd laugh in my face and then he wouldn't want to see me again."

"Why don't you ask him if he can teach you some tricks to use with Jack?" asks Helen.

"But that's kinky!" exclaims Kristen "Poor Joel why should he teach her some sex moves to be with someone else?!"

"Let's keep it down, please," you remind them "You're talking about me and not a bag. Anyway, I agree with Kristen, I'm not going to go to him and tell me to use moves to seduce Jack, absolutely not. It would be monstrous to ask him that, I can't do that," you add, shaking your head.

You couldn't do that to him, it would be cruel! Maybe you could ask him what it would be like to be with a man, what you would have to do, but while you're thinking about that, you're also thinking you wouldn't be able to look him in the eye and make such a proposal.

You see Joel again the next day; he looks tired, but when he sees you his eyes and face obviously marked by fatigue give way to the joy of seeing you, though he tries not to let that happiness drag him down too much. You by now don't even pay attention to the heartbeat that accompanies you when you walk to his house or when you see him, then he offers you coffee, which by now you take.

You ask him about his work while sitting on one of the stools in his kitchen, he talks to you about what he has done and will have to do, he adds a lot of interludes like 'fuck' and 'shit' in his narrative that make you smile, but deep down you like that aspect of Joel too.

You talk most of the time that should instead be devoted to chords or sheet music, but you honestly don't care especially when you have Joel next to you holding your hand or stroking now your hair now your face causing you to shiver all over. The man then asks about your mother and how your relationship is progressing and you tell him she is getting close to a group of religious fervents, she meets in these reading groups, you are worried about her especially when she jumps like that on something she knows nothing about. He just nods and tells you to stay close to her and if you notice too strange attitudes, you should intervene with all your might even if it means making her hate you.

"I wonder what my life, her life, would have been like if my father had not left. I would like to understand what happened that was so bad that he left." you confide to him "Sometimes I wonder what our lives would have been like if he had been there." you add.

"Don't ask yourself these questions," he says, taking your face in his hands, "you only hurt yourself." you are so close again and your heart is beating so fast again, you are afraid he might hear it being so close to you. He has a strange light in his eyes, a light so different, you've never seen it before.

He clears his throat and then urges you, saying, "Let's go play, at least ten minutes."

He plays, you strum, trying to imitate him, but to no avail. Your mind is totally caught up in other thoughts, you feel strange, you can't explain what is happening to you, you have a feeling you've never felt before at the level of your lower abdomen, like something that wants to come out, you don't even know what it is, you just know that at some point you start fidgeting on the couch next to him and look away from him and his hands touching the guitar with delicate precision.

"Are you all right?" he asks you, probably noticing how you move beside him.

"Yes."

"You're all flushed, what's wrong?" he asks wrinkling his forehead.

"Nothing. Really." you reply, but the tone of your voice betrays you.

"What's the matter, baby?" he asks as he puts down his guitar and looks insistently into your face.

You realize it's time to leave, you're like afraid of what you're feeling.

"I have to go." you say splashing off his couch, you hurriedly grabbed your backpack and coat without wearing them and are about to reach the door, but Joel stops you by caging you against the door, your back is still to him, you don't know how to explain what is happening to you.

"Why are you doing this? Why do you want to run away from me now? What have I done to you?" he asks, laying his hands on your shoulders causing intense shivers down your spine. You feel his hands stroking up and down your arms, maybe he wants to reassure you, but it has the opposite effect.

"I would never hurt you, what's going on?" he asks again quietly, making you turn to face him.

"J - Joel… I - I - um, I don't know. It's--" you mumble with your head down.

"Talk to me." he insists calmly, laying a finger under your chin causing you to lift your head toward him.

"I don't know what's happening to me. The truth is, yes I'm dating Jack, but I can't see Jack the way I want to, I talk to him and yes we have things in common, but I can't feel what I want to." you confess to him.

He stares intensely into your eyes only heightening that almost uncomfortable feeling of yours "I'm sorry." he tells you "But why were you running away from me?"

"I don't know," you answer him, "You confuse me. The truth is what's being created between us is something big and it scares me." you confess to him again without being able to look him in the eye "I'm fine with you, but to a part of me that's not enough." you add again "And it scares me because I feel I can't control it."

When you decide to lift your eyes to his face, you find that same look again, that same light as before, you feel you miss your breath, "You don't have to be afraid, whatever it is." he tells you "Y' know, what I think?" you shake your head "I think you've been so used to being in control of every aspect of your life that now the slightest new thing upsets you. Y' know what I say? You have every right to try and fail, try again and fail again." he then says your name softly "You can't be in control of everything all the time. Let yourself go."

"Oh, Joel..." you say laying your hand on his "I'm afraid I'm getting it all wrong." you confess to him "As long as I'm involved and that's all...but I'm afraid I'm pulling too hard with..."

"With your John?" he asks taking a half step toward you and squeezing even tighter between him and the door.

"I can't risk losing everything. It's become too important in such a short time." you answer him without looking at his face, you are talking to yourself, but he doesn't know that. The correct answer would have been Joel, but a part of you still can't say it although his name is on the tip of your tongue.

"I asked you a question," he insists, "Is this about John?"

"Jack." you correct him.

He rolls his eyes in a spaced-out expression "So?"

"Joel, let me go." you make to turn your back on him again, but he places one hand on your hip and the other on the door handle and stops you.

"Who is upsetting you so much?" he whispers in your ear making your skin crawl "John or is i' me?" he asks you again tightening his grip just a little more.

"I won't have the courage to look at your face after that," you warn him, but at the same time you answer him. You swallow, closing your eyes, the truth perhaps being this: you are afraid of losing his friendship because of your total confusion.

"You can talk to me about it, I'm not like that little boy you like so much." he prods you "I'm not one to run away in the face of difficulties or in the face of even the most unpleasant words or deeds."

"Okay." you nod turning toward him, swallow and then you tell him making an effort to look him in the eye and sound firm in your words and the tone of voice you use "I can't see you as just my teacher, you have become more, you are more than a friend, I don't know however how to see you, how to define you, I just know that being with you confuses me, I'm fine, but at the same time I would like to run away because I'm afraid of doing or saying something stupid, inappropriate, of not knowing when it's time to do something and when not. I am afraid of losing this bond that has been created with you because of my total inexperience. I don't know what to do when you look at me like that, I don't know what to do..."

He pulls his hand away from the door handle and your side and wraps your face in his hands "Y' know very well I'd never do anything you don't want, I'd never force you into doing or saying what you don't feel. I don't expect anything. I don't care whether you are experienced or not. For me you are perfect just the way you are." he tells you looking into eyes you feel pinch "I don't demand that you choose me or want to be with me, but I want you to know I am there for you. As a friend, as a confidant, in whatever way you want. And I'll respect your choice. What matters is your happiness, not my wishes or hopes. There is your life in the way, you are so young and you have so many dreams to give, so many experiences to live. My life is a mess, but now the point is not my life as much as yours. So," he says wiping away two timid tears that had begun to line your face "I want you to choose what is best for you, whether it's John, whether it's me or whoever." he kisses your forehead "If you want to go, at least cover yourself first." he concludes by moving his hands away from your face, takes a step back and then returns to the living room.

If you were experienced, you'd have chased him down and kissed him with the whole ardor you possessed, but instead you find yourself putting on your coat, gloves, scarf and hat and walking away.

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