#Benny reference? :3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

urhoneycombwitch · 3 months

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imagine being loved by me

🍯 honey flavour: your love has stood the test of time, thus far, but a party fit for a rockstar brings up some bitter emotions.

🐝 the bees: rockstar!Eddie x jealous!Reader

wc: 8k

cw: drugs and alcohol consumption, mentions of weight gain (eddie’s, in a positive manner), R has panic/anxiety attack, jealousy (talked about and resolved tho), softdom!Reader, softdom!Eddie, oral (E and R receiving), R has breasts + a V and referred to with she/her pronouns, P in V sex, cumming inside w/out protection

foreword: timeline is wobbly and may not align perfectly w canon bc I’m bad at math so shhhh suspend ur disbelief. based on this anon thank you v much anon <3

___

It’s the coldest January Hawkins has seen in ages. Snow banks sit high on the roadsides, air thick with snowflakes, three-AM fog brought in courtesy of the bitter wind chill.

Under the yellow floodlight of a nearby streetlamp, your boyfriend is sucking down the last of a joint while you stamp your feet against the gravel parking lot.

“C’mon, Eddie,” you whine, crossing the arms of your fleeced puffer jacket, bouncing on your heels to keep the blood flowing. “My toes are gonna get frostbite.”

“A touch dramatic,” Eddie replies, unbothered. The cherry of the joint between his lips burns orange, casting a warm glow over Eddie’s cheekbones, the twinkle of snowflakes caught in his bangs. “I told you to go in without me, princess. Warmer in there.”

“Without you? As if.” You pull the pity card, and it works, ‘cuz it always does- that boy has got to learn how to say no to you, one of these days.

Not today, though, because Eddie is tamping out the ember on the sole of his boot and crunching up the snowy path to sling an arm around your neck.

“Grub time,” he says against your hair, pressing his cold lips to the side of your forehead as you both make your way into Benny’s Burgers.

The heated air is a welcome relief, and save for a couple of old-timers at a side table, you and Eddie are the only customers in the place.

Benny greets you both from where he’s flipping patties on the kitchen grill, waving a spatula at the corner booth- “All yours, kiddos. Want the usual?”

You and Eddie call out affirmatives as you sink into opposing seats, unwrapping yourselves from all your winter gear as you go.

“God bless Benny Hammond for expanding his night hours,” you say, piling your green scarf on the tabletop. “This is a good tradition for us, y’know. Post-band practice smoking and coffee- very rock and roll.”

“I concur.” Eddie tosses his knit hat at you playfully. “You, my lady, have the most rock ‘n roll soul I ever did see.”

As Benny approaches with two mugs of steaming coffee, you muse aloud, “Not sure if the amount of sugar you’re about to dump in your coffee is very metal, per se...”

“Y’hear that, Benny?” Eddie grabs a fistful of sugar packets and shakes them indignantly. “My girl’s trying to keep me on the straight and narrow. How’s a rockstar s’posed to live in these conditions?”

“Lord knows,” Benny says, sardonic, setting the mugs down and turning back to the kitchen.

Eddie winces as his hands wrap around the heat of the mug, and you notice right away. “Your fingers splitting again? I have that salve that you used last time, but it’s back at the trailer.”

He puts his hand face-up onto the table, and you slip yours into his, the deep fingertip grooves from guitar strings rough against your soft palm.

“I’ll live. Plus, it’s kind of metal, right?” Eddie runs a calloused thumb across the back of your hand.

You squeeze back, give him a wink. “Very metal.”

Eddie’s been working himself to the bone lately. Trying to stay in school and not drop out is a feat in itself, but compounded with the band practices that have only ramped up in length recently, it’s a lot to balance.

He hasn’t complained at all, of course. It’s not really in his nature.

In the past few weeks, however, he’s been imbued with this near-manic energy, a renewed sense of purpose. In between your own fitful sleeps you often wake in the early hours of the morning to find Eddie hunched over his desk, pen flying across his notebook as he reworks an old song or outlines a new one. Not that you weren’t proud of him before, but seeing him apply this newfound passion to his music has been a huge source of joy for you.

And, if you’re being really honest, also a major turn on. I mean, the boy’s got swagger like no other, and you’re so glad he’s finally utilizing it on stage. Even if that stage is in the middle of a piece of shit dive bar. Still counts, in your book.

Benny drops off baskets of hot fries, a burger for Eddie, and a BLT for you. Methodic and familiar, you offload half your fries to Eddie’s basket as he slides his burger towards you for the first bite.

After a few minutes of peaceful eating, Eddie balls up a napkin in his fist and raps the table with his knuckles. “So, uh. Kind of have some news.”

You slot the ketchup bottle back into its metal holder and look up with raised brows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He looks suddenly nervous, knee knocking into the underside of the table as he bounces his leg compulsively. “You remember Paige Warner? Graduated in ‘81, brother is a baseball jock?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath- his unease is kind of setting you on edge.

“What about Paige Warner?” you prompt.

“She moved out to L.A. for a job and she’s working this scouting gig for some bigshot record,” he continues, absently pulling the thin napkin in his hands into pieces, staring vacantly at the mess. “And she wants Corroded Coffin to record and send out a demo to the label.”

As the news sinks in, your jaw drops. “Holy shit. What?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s fidgeting with the paper scraps now, still not making eye contact with you. “She wants us to start recording next week. I haven’t told anyone else, yet, I wanted to make sure you were the first-”

You interrupt him with an excited little squeal (drawing glares from the old guys across the diner) and shove up from your side of the table to throw your arms around Eddie.

“Holy shit,” you repeat, laughing as Eddie pulls you into his lap- “Eddie, that’s amazing!”

“You think so?” he asks, your enthusiasm allowing his own to creep in; He slides his hands to your denim-clad hips, his self-professed favorite stress toy (well, tied for favorite with your thighs).

“How come you were so nervous to tell me?” You ask him, gently, tucking his dark hair behind his ears so you can see his face better. “Were you thinking I’d react differently?”

He looks up at you wide-eyed, shakes his head- “No, no, I wasn’t worried about you reacting a certain way. I just… I’m just worried about what this’ll mean. You know. For us.”

“Us?” You echo, encouraging him to continue.

Eddie squeezes at your hips, presses the crown of his head against your collarbone like he’s mustering up the courage to speak. “Yeah, us. I know L.A. isn’t your dream- shit, I don’t even know if it’s mine- but you didn’t sign up to go on the road like this. You’ve got college to consider, and-”

“So I’ll take a gap year,” you interrupt, putting a hand to his cheek to make him look at you again, and when he starts to protest, you talk over him. “No, Eddie, I’m serious. I don’t know what the hell I wanna do with my life yet anyways. Following my hot rockstar boyfriend to a new town sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

He shakes his head again, and you can feel his dimples spring to life under your hand as he teases, “Gonna be my little groupie?”

“And more,” you confirm, giving him a kiss (chaste, so as not to invoke any more ire from the grumpy other customers) and sliding off his lap to return to your own seat. “I’ll be your assistant extraordinaire, if you want. Or bodyguard. Make sure none of the other groupie chicks get too close.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. “You’re the only groupie I need, sweetheart.”

Settling back into your respective seats, you both work on the last basket of fries while chatting genially about the future. Eddie mentions getting an apartment in Los Angeles, so there’s less of a commute, which branches the conversation into the logistics of a cross-country move, and then on to more important topics such as the alleged coolness of west-coast parties.

“Who’s your celebrity hall pass?” you ask, out of pure interest, dipping a fry into the well of ketchup. “Like, say you’re rubbing elbows at some famous muckety-muck’s party and someone catches your eye. Who’re you taking back to the motel for a slutty roll in the hay?”

Eddie snickers at your phrasing, then says, “I mean, preferably, my super hot girlfriend-”

You throw a fry at his head. “That’s such a cop-out answer. In this hypothetical, Joan Jett is in red leather petting up on you and you’re saying you wouldn’t take her up on a one-night stand?”

A laugh bursts out of Eddie, a real, proper one where he throws his head back. “Are you actively encouraging me to hook up with some bimbo at a random party? Without you? Unlikely scenario on all fronts, babe.”

This earns him another launched fry, and he squawks, trying to shake it out of its place caught in his hair as you reprimand him- “Joan Jett is not some bimbo, watch your mouth! And what I’m saying is, if you didn’t at least try to score us a threesome with her, I’d be pissed.”

“Okay, baby,” Eddie soothes you a tad derisively, likely a ploy to avoid more flying food- “if I meet Joan Jett I will do my level best to get her in our bed. Scout’s honor.”

He holds up two fingers and wiggles them obscenely, grinning when you laugh again. “All right, Nosey McGee. Who are you taking home from the party?”

You hum, eyes flicking up to the ceiling, contemplating the options. “I guess I could be talked into a night with Kirk Hammett.”

Eddie’s turn to launch a fry. “You slut,” he chuckles, “That was a way quicker answer than mine.”

“Okay, fine. If I meet Kirk Hammett, I promise to at least make a bid for threesome. Deal?” You extend your pinkie across the table.

Eddie loops his little finger into yours. “Deal.”

____

The memory of that cozy diner evening years ago fades as you shake yourself to the present.

You aren’t two highschool kids with lofty dreams, anymore- after Eddie’s recovery from all that Upside Down bullshit in ‘86, Corroded Coffin took off. Even though Paige didn’t end up coming through with any deals, Eddie and his bandmates fought like hell to get signed- and by the end of that year, a small record label in the heart of downtown Chicago had taken the bait.

Corroded Coffin turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to Arken Records; by the spring of ‘87, business was booming thanks to the help of Corroded’s debut album, The Banished Ones- their new single was a chart-topper for over 6 weeks. (Smash Hit magazine’s latest review was titled “Fresh Sound Rises from Dirt Nowhere.” You have the paper clipping saved in your ever-growing folder with “rockstar boyfriend!!!” handwritten in black ink.)

And in a few weeks, the band will set off on their first real tour, starting in Chicago and ending with a bang in an already sold-out show in Hawkins- Dustin, Steve, and the rest of the gang with VIP front-row seats, of course.

As much as you and Eddie have grown and matured in the past few years, the core of you both has remained the same. Eddie is still just as dorky, goofy, and caring as he always has been, while you’ve kept that tenacious spirit and quick wit that he fell in love with back in the early days of dating. Even now, with his popularity rising and his rockstar dreams on their way to coming true, Eddie constantly brings his focus back to you.

Pillow talks in cushy hotel beds, late night ramblings over post-show whiskeys, holding hands in the back of yet another cab- when he could be talking about the thousands of exciting things happening in his own life, Eddie is asking about you.

Did you talk to Robin last night, sweetheart? How’s ‘ol Birdie doin? What do you wanna wear to that dinner thingy tomorrow… could go naked for all I care. In fact you probably should because of feminism and all that. Did you sleep okay last night? Let me look at ya. You thinkin’ any more about those applications you got?

You’d taken a gap year to support Eddie, which you were happy to do, but with ‘87 drawing to a close, he’s been more insistent lately that you take a look at all your college options. Honestly, you’ve been enjoying the adventures that come with touring way too much to consider going back to the rigidity of school.

And plus, having the love of your life nearly bleed out in your arms in a parallel dimension has totally realigned your priorities. If folks thought you and Eddie were attached at the hip before…

He’ll likely argue you into academia, eventually. He always rolls high on persuasion. Damn him.

For now, you’ve got a party to attend.

Arken Records is playing host, on the last night of 1987- in celebration of Corroded Coffin’s success and to kick off the New Year’s festivities, they’ve rented out a house in east Chicago for the event.

Well, house isn’t the right word. More like mansion. Vaulted ceilings tall as a church’s, huge windows overlooking the Chicago river, a grand chandelier with flickering candles in nearly every room.

When you and Eddie had toured the place a few days previous, he’d made a joking complaint low in your ear about not having the time to fuck you on every surface. Your laugh had reverberated off the sweeping mahogany floorboards, mostly at the expense of Eddie’s poor publicist who’d happened to hear his comment. (Melanie had really been putting in overtime lately; you made a mental note to send her a very nice flower arrangement and vouchers for a spa trip.)

The party was in full swing by the time you and Eddie arrived, fashionably late, and he had been folded into the throng of other musicians and partygoers against his will pretty much immediately- which you’d expected. The last hour, he’s been throwing you piteous looks from his spot across the room, where he hasn’t had the chance to move an inch with the amount of people keeping the conversation going. You’ve slipped to his side a few times, refreshing his drink, letting him curl an arm around your waist as you perch on his knee, only half-focused on whatever story some producer is saying as Eddie’s hand trails up your thigh.

You’re back on the nearest wall again, sipping champagne, taking it all in. There are probably over a hundred people crammed into this banquet room, bass thumping through the floorboards, tables shoved to the outer corners making space for a makeshift dance space.

The air is hazy with smoke from various cigarettes and joints; as the night has progressed, the smell of freshly-applied cologne has been replaced with heady sweat as the dance floor calls more people to writhe and grind in groups and partners. Eddie is still stuck in the lone pod of living room chairs, surrounded by a rapt audience of people crammed in to hear him better over the blaring music.

He looks damn good tonight, in a cut-off black tee and his favorite ripped jeans, leather jacket hung on the chair behind him. Silver catches the light from every angle- on the chains at his hips, around his neck, glinting off his rings as he gestures animatedly mid-story. He’d asked you to do his eyeliner at the hotel earlier, and although it’s smudged and blurred at the edges now he’s still pulling it off. Tiny silver stars, hand-drawn with your eyeshadow brush, twinkle across his cheeks like freckles.

Eddie wanted to match with you, whined until you added a belt made of gold-plated stars to your outfit. You went simple, the gold to his silver- belt cinching your short black satin slip dress, delicate brass rings and bracelets around your fingers and bare forearms. The one piece of silver you are wearing is a chain around your neck, Eddie’s guitar pick nestled snug between your breasts.

You still resolutely refuse to wear heels, even after Eddie’s stylist cajoled you into practicing on stilettos for a disastrous media training session last month- tonight you’re in a chic pair of Mary Janes with the slightest suggestion of a heel. Compromise.

There’s a big laugh from the crowd in the corner again as Eddie knocks a hand into Gareth’s chest for emphasis, nearly knocking the younger boy off his seat. You stare unabashedly at Eddie’s forearms, biceps on full display; he’s filled out a bit since leaving home, his usually lean frame boasting a bit more weight and bulk now that he’s got consistent access to well-rounded meals.

He’s looking healthy, down right glowy. You’re thinking about that smattered trail of dark hair that slides down the crest of his stomach, now with extra padding enough to sink your teeth into. As if he knows, Eddie catches your eye from across the room and winks, cheekily.

You shiver and unconsciously press your thighs together, hiding your grin with another swallow of champagne.

The alcohol turns a bit sour going down, though, as a crimped-haired blonde girl worms her way to Eddie’s side, laughing a little too loudly at the joke he just told. When she places a manicured hand on one of his shoulders, the thin stem of your glass nearly snaps in your grip.

The thing about rockstars is they have crazy sex appeal. The thing about your rockstar is he’s only interested in you, something that has been proved many times over.

So why is tonight hitting you so hard? Why do you feel nauseous the longer Eddie lets some random woman’s hand stay on his bare skin when you know he’s going home with you, and only you?

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the overcrowded room, or the memories of Benny’s diner still lingering like a bruise in your mind. Hard to pinpoint exactly. All you know is that jealousy is gnawing like a thing raw and seeking in the pit of your stomach, and if you don’t get out of this stuffy room soon you’re gonna do something tabloid-worthy, like cry in the middle of a New Year’s Eve party.

By the grace of some god you make it across the dance floor and into a side bathroom unscathed, the pulsing sound of the party blissfully dimming as you shut the door behind you. Your mind whirls as you grip the gilded sink for stability, blinking hard at the tears beginning to form.

You love having a boyfriend who’s larger than life. You love that he’s taking up space and getting to use that charm that was nurtured on the DM throne back in Hawkins. You’re so proud of him, you really are.

You’re just starting to hate the way other people’s surface-level love of him makes you feel.

Because that’s what it is, right? Just surface-level, you reason with yourself- the level of intimacy that you and Eddie have is unmatched, something that the newly-formed masses of admirers won’t ever get to experience.

Christ, can jealousy give you hives? You grab a handful of paper towels and soak them in cold tap water, then press the damp bundle to your chest, breath stuttering.

You’ve never been the jealous type, or the overbearing type- it’s a new feeling, and maybe that’s why it feels so scary. The more you try to tamp it down, the more it rears its ugly head, making you, in turn, feel embarrassed for having such a strong reaction in the first place.

It’s a vicious cycle that’s only seeming to gain speed as you realize you haven’t yet managed a full breath since coming to your hiding spot. Your lungs are pinched and burning as you drop the soggy paper into the sink, leaning into the lip of the porcelain to steady yourself.

There’s a knock on the door, and you choke out “Just a minute”, not sure if the person on the other side can even hear you over the music when Eddie’s voice leaks through.

“Baby? That you in there?”

Against your better judgment, you open the door, and he crams in the small space, locking it again behind himself.

“There you are, I saw you leave and thought you were getting a drink or something but then you didn’t come back and- are you okay?”

He interrupts his own stream of consciousness when he notices the state you’re in. You give him a trembly smile, waving a hand dismissively.

“Yeah, all good. I’ll come back with you, just needed to pee.”

Eddie is not so easily thrown off the scent. He murmurs your name, sliding his hand into yours, looking at you with a wounded puppy gaze- fuck, you can’t have a breakdown. Not here, not on New Year’s in some knockoff-Playboy’s bathroom.

And certainly not in front of Eddie, who’s asking you to tell him what’s wrong, what happened, with an increasingly pleading tone that’s really, really not helping your whole Don’t Cry agenda.

Hoping your voice doesn’t break, you clear your throat and pull your hand from his grasp. “Nothing happened, okay? I just had too much to drink, feeling overly sentimental or something. I’m okay.”

You think your white lie was convincing enough when Eddie reaches back for the door handle, that maybe he’ll rejoin the party and leave you to have a good cry, but after poking his head out the doorway briefly he grabs onto your wrist, tugging you to his side and hissing “Quick!”

And then you’re both making a break for it down the mostly-empty hallway, Eddie pulling you smoothly past a wall of expensive-looking oil paintings before going through a set of double doors that lead to the outside.

It’s December in Chicago, which means a light layer of snow covers the terraced garden that Eddie is leading you through, stopping at a stone bench flanked by two scraggly bushes.

“Made it,” he huffs with exertion, dropping your hand to shrug his leather jacket off in favor of draping it around your own shoulders.

“You’re gonna be cold,” you sniffle, partly from the tears, partly from the crisp night air.

“Yeah,” he agrees easily, wrapping you in a hug. You press your forehead to his chest. “Got my girl to keep me warm, though.”

You stay like this for a few moments, his arms solid around you, breaths coming easier as the familiar smell of his tangy skin and that spicy bar soap he uses fills your senses.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, gently, holding you at arm’s length to study your face.

When you shrug, unsure of where to start, he lets go of you and walks backwards, taking an unflinching seat on the snow-covered bench.

You gasp despite yourself, reaching to pull him up even as he twists out of your grasp- “Eddie, jesus, you’re literally gonna freeze your ass off. Get up!”

But he’s solid in his seat, widening his stance, boots planted on the ground- “I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, so you better start talking before my jeans freeze to the concrete.”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, but he’s giving you that look again, the one that cracks through the tough exterior every time, and you wrap your arms around yourself under the warmth of his jacket as you admit, “Okay, fine. It’s something. I’m just… having an overreaction.”

“To the shellfish?” he deadpans.

“No, asshole, to the blonde girl who was rubbing up on you earlier,” you snap.

Eddie blinks, genuine confusion in his voice- “There was a blonde girl… rubbing up on me?”

“She was petting your shoulder,” you continue, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the ground. “She was touching you, and I got- jealous, I guess.”

“Baby, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t remember her, at all,” Eddie emphasizes, spreading a palm flat against his chest in a gesture of sincerity, hair shifting across his shoulders as he cocks his head to the side.

His face is too familiar, too earnest for you to be able to say what you’re feeling without bursting into tears, so you turn on your heel, pacing a short loop in front of the bench, your breath hanging in misty clouds as you speak.

“It’s not even about her, necessarily. It’s about me and my stupid emotions. I’m not usually like this- jealous, you know? Like, I’m so proud of you, and everything you’ve accomplished, and I don’t mind sharing you, really I don’t, it’s just…”

You pause in your pacing, let your head drop back to look at the inky black sky pinpricked with stars, and your next words fall out like a confession.

“I just feel like I’m in mourning.”

You can feel his eyes on you still, as you loose the feeling that’s been caught tight in your chest. “It sounds so dramatic, when I say it like that. But I think that’s what it is. I miss when it was just the two of us, in this little bubble where no one knew our names and we just had each other.”

As the words leave your mouth, you scramble to explain, to soften the blow, hands tightening around your upper arms as you turn back to face the boy on the bench. “And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, or, like, a total jealous bitch, because I really love you and I hope you know I’m not- are you laughing?”

Eddie tries his best to stifle the laughter into his fist when he sees how indignant you look. He rises from the bench, still a bit mirthful, pulling you back into his space. “Sorry, honey, I’m not making fun of you, I promise.”

You’re glaring at him now, and he ducks to kiss at the lines between your brow before pulling back and saying, “I think what you’re feeling is normal, and I don’t think you’re overreacting at all. Remember that asshole at the Smith Center party who kept trying to get your number right in front of me?”

“Vaguely.”

“I wanted to punch his lights out. Make a real scene, kiss you sloppy in front of some cameras.” Eddie cups your face in his hands, soothing his thumb against the wetness of your lashline. “What I’m saying is, I get jealous, too. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“But…” there’s a well of emotions that you’re drawing from, and it’s not empty yet, one nagging thought still surfacing. “But these girls that are coming on to you, they’re like… really hot. I don’t look anything like them.”

Eddie frowns. “Are you seriously trying to make a case for yourself on the grounds of not being really hot? That’s not gonna hold up in court, gorgeous. I mean… have you even looked in a mirror recently?”

He lightly taps his knuckle against your head, trying to get you to crack a smile, but you’re not ready to give in yet.

“You don’t think you’ll get bored of me?” you whisper, dropping your eyes from his consuming gaze to the wyvern inked on the inside of his arm.

“Sweetheart…” Eddie sounds genuinely pained. The ink in his skin stretches as he slips a hand to the back of your neck, cold rings against your skin making you shiver. “I couldn’t ever get bored of you. Not in a million years. We've been through too much together for you to think like that, hm?”

He strokes his thumb down the column of your neck, those doey brown eyes on you again. “Now I’m not saying you shouldn’t ever be jealous, ‘cuz god knows it makes me hot under the collar when you are. But I’m sayin’ I never wanna make you feel like you need to earn me, okay?”

His thumb tracks back up to the hollow of your jaw, taps twice questioningly, and you nod, letting out a shaky, “Okay.”

When he kisses you, it feels like every other time- comfortable, grounding, familiar. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips, and you let him lick into your mouth, gripping at his arms, flushing hot as you give it back to him in spades.

With a short groan, he pulls back, a wet click as your mouths separate- “As much as I wanna jump your bones in this wintry wonderland, I think the snow might’ve actually frozen my balls off.”

You giggle, spanning your hands around the meat of his waist, kissing up into his mouth again- “Poor baby. Want me to warm ‘em up in my mouth?”

He gives a solid smack to your ass for that, his palm smoothing over the stinging skin with condescension when you yelp- “All dish and no take, baby? Not exactly fair.”

____

Despite your weak protestations that you both should probably rejoin the party, at least until midnight, Eddie insists on taking you back to the hotel.

“This party blows, anyways,” he says over his shoulder to you as he leads you back through the halls of the house. “If I hear one more Tears for Fears track I might throw myself into the river from one of the hundred balconies in this place.”

He manages to track down Melanie with some effort, winding his way through the throng of people to where she’d been chatting with a reporter, plucking at her elbow to get her away from the crowd and into the quieter hallway with you.

“We gotta scoot, Mel,” he tells her, really hamming up the charm as the young publicist widens her eyes. “Think you can get us a ride outta here?”

“Mr. Munson, you can’t just leave,” Melanie insists, frazzled. “Someone from Rolling Stone has been waiting for the last hour to talk to you, if you could just-”

“No can do.” Eddie shakes his head, mock-apologetic. “There’s been an accident. Of a personal nature.”

You manage to choke down your laughter as Eddie turns around to show off the dark stains on the back of his jeans. They’re just wet from the snow that he sat in earlier, of course, but it looks convincing enough to make Melanie blanch and pinch the bridge of her nose.

“I’ll have a cab out front in ten for you both. Please keep a low profile until then.”

Eddie gives a sharp salute and you mouth an apology at her before she retreats to find a phone.

Okay, so maybe add a hefty bonus to that Nice Things for Melanie list of yours.

____

One of the perks of having a rockstar for a boyfriend is the sweet digs- the label shelled out for Chicago’s finest penthouse suite; an entire luxurious upper floor with a private elevator, windows overlooking the far-below city lights, and a sunken bath big enough for two.

Also included? Soundproof walls.

A perk you’re very grateful for as Eddie walks you backwards into the room, sucking a mark with stinging teeth into your neck as you moan, then giggle breathily, admonishing- “Christ, Eddie, slow down. We have all night.”

Eddie pulls back just far enough to frown down at you, his hands slipping under the hem of your dress to squeeze at your ass. His rings are cold against your bare flesh, and he grins when you shiver. “Uh huh. Sure do have all night. You gonna take advantage of that?”

He wiggles his eyebrows, cheekily, but that smirk drops from his face in record time the second you shove him to the bed. As his knees give out in favor of sitting on the mattress, you steady your hands against his broad shoulders to swing yourself into his lap.

Eddie’s looking up at you, cinnamon eyes darkened with lust- it makes your stomach flip something awful. Your skin feels alight with heat as Eddie’s hands drip like water down your sides, then to your parted thighs.

You sigh into his mouth as his fingers trace the front of your underwear, the silk sticky with your arousal.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie says, equal parts admonishment and pitying as you squirm into his touch. “What’s got you this worked up, hm?”

He’s asking like he doesn’t know- like he didn’t tease you with filthy whispers and wandering hands in the back of the car the whole way here.

“Whaddya think,” you scoff, not quite ready to give in yet, enjoying the thrill of being cagey as Eddie hooks a finger to tuck your panties to the side.

He grins, simmering, enjoying the chase just as much as you. His middle finger swipes through your folds and you shudder in his arms, hands tightening into the meat of his shoulders as he brings the wetness up to your clit.

Eddie rubs quick, steady circles until you’re mewling, bucking hips grinding down to seek more friction. You can feel the wetness seeping out of your core, dampening his jeans as he licks back into your mouth, capturing the soft noises you’re making as he winds you up.

“Can’t believe a pretty thing like you has anything to be jealous of.” Eddie noses at the spot under your jaw, and when you let your head fall back on a hinge to grant him access, he sucks another mark into the column of your throat. “‘M all yours, sweetheart. You gonna take what’s yours?”

Truth be told, your mind went fuzzy the second Eddie got his hands on your clit, the consistent build of pleasure sparking between your legs rather distracting. You’d almost forgotten how the night had started, but you let the jealousy and possessiveness creep back in as you push at Eddie’s chest.

He goes down easily, toeing his boots off and lying flat on the mattress; big hands settle on your waist as you rest your weight into him, warm cunt pressing against the bulge of his clothed cock.

At a light drag of your nails against his bare chest and across his nipple, Eddie groans low, squeezing your hips and rucking into you.

“You’re all mine, Eddie, right?”

His pupils nearly eclipsing their soft brown irises, Eddie stares up at you like you hang the moon and stars every night just for him. “Yeah, sweetheart. ‘M all yours. Lemme show you.”

Eddie pulls at the backs of your legs, helping you shuffle up his body until your knees are dipping into the mattress at either side of his head. Your core hovers just above Eddie’s mouth- you can feel his breath speed up on the inside of your thigh at this new position.

“Oh, fuck, Eddie- jesus… christ,” the last word ending in a moan as Eddie’s tongue licks a wet stripe through your folds.

He pulls you closer with an arm over each thigh until you’re sitting on his face, his nose hitting your clit with each tilt of his head. You’ve got no idea how he’s able to breathe down there but you’re hardly able to hold onto that thought when his tongue has started plunging in and out of you.

Automatically, your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself- one hand goes to the headboard and the other ends up in his hair, gripping the roots hard. Eddie groans, sending vibrations that make your cunt clench around his lithe tongue.

“Like the taste of my pussy, baby?” you coo down at him, regaining some of your breath to give him attitude.

Reaching a hand back to palm at his cock, you say “No one else can have you like this, hm?”

Eddie catches your eyes as he mouths wetly at your clit, then sucks it into his mouth. Your thighs shake around his ears, your orgasm unfurling in clenching ripples.

“Oh, yeah, Eddie, fuck, I’m coming- just like that, fuck fuck fuck…”

He doesn’t stop suckling at you until you’re gushing around his mouth, then pulling him off by his hair to make him stop.

Eddie heaves in a breath, kissing at the inside of your thigh, his lips and chin shiny with your release. “God, baby. Such pretty noises for me.”

“Mhm.” You shuffle down until your hips are aligned over his, then lean in to lick his mouth clean. “Gonna make some pretty ones for me, now?”

After helping pull his shirt off, Eddie whines softly as you press kisses down his bare chest, and by the time your mouth is pressing over that dark trail of hair that leads into his denim, Eddie’s begging.

“Please, angel, please- need your mouth. Do anything for it, baby, please…”

You rub your cheek against his bulge before pulling back to pop the button on his jeans, then help him shift them down and off his body. Once his black briefs join the growing pile of floor clothes, Eddie’s completely bare and at your mercy.

He gets on his elbows to watch as you mouth at the inside of his thigh, dark hair splayed around his shoulders, chest heaving when you ignore his leaking cock in favor of grazing your teeth against a sensitive spot. “Fuckin’- christ, sweetheart. Come on. Please?”

“Sound pretty when you beg,” you say, mildly, kissing across his heavy sack, hiding a smile when the contact makes him jolt. “Gonna do it some more?”

You keep eye contact as you take one of his balls into your mouth, watching his own eyes roll back so far you can see the whites of them as you use your tongue on him.

“-yeah, baby, yeah- just like that- fucking, fuck, you’re killin’ me…”

Eddie sounds wrecked already, and a hot flush of pride courses through your body at the knowledge that he could come from just this and it’d be you getting him there.

You mouth over to the other side of his sack, rolling the skin wiry with coarse hair against your tongue as Eddie moans above you. When your hand wraps around the base of his cock, starting to move in tandem with the pull of your mouth, Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched.

A line of drool breaks and hits wet against your chin as you straighten up, settling yourself into the V of his legs and using his thighs as handholds while you begin to kiss up the line of his leaking cock.

He’s got a gorgeous dick, truly. Thick and long, curving slightly to the right, a pretty blue vein snaking up the underside that you lathe your tongue against, seeking out the salty brine at the ruddy head.

Eddie moans, brokenly, white-knuckled hands twisting into the sheets. When your mouth closes around the tip, his elbows give out, leaving him flat against the mattress as you work his length further in.

“Oh my god. Oh, fuck, baby. Please don’t stop. Please. Y’feel so good…”

You hum around the stretch of him in your mouth, relaxing your throat to draw him in a bit more. The spiky jealousy from earlier really is your biggest motivator here; covetous, you’re thinking back to all those first times with Eddie- trembling hands under your bedsheets back in Hawkins, stilted voices and giggles to cover up the awkwardness of trying to learn the other person’s body.

No one will ever know him like you do. No one will ever have all that shared history, those fumbling nights that slowly turned to lovesick days; memories of him on his knees for you, learning all the little things that make you tick, memorizing the song of your body.

The boy is all yours.

Your throat automatically constricts at the intrusion of Eddie’s cock slipping past your soft palate- his hips cant up, which you can hardly fault him for, patient as he’s been with your retrospective and teasing.

Before he can apologize you’re sitting up, wiping at the excess drool with the back of your hand and shucking your dress over your head, letting it and your belt fall to the floor with a soft clunk.

Eddie reaches for you again as you slide your panties down and off, and you let him help you up his body, your knees coming to rest alongside the lightly raised scar tissue at his sides. You stroke a hand down his chest, giving in to a moment of softness before seating yourself fully in Eddie’s lap.

His hands snap to your hips, a near-brutal squeeze as you sink onto his cock. The stretch is always an adjustment, but you’re so wet right now that he slides in easily, a breathy moan from the both of you as the walls of your cunt fit snug around his sizeable length.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” The crown of Eddie’s head is pressed back into the bed, veins in his taut neck on full display as your hips start to swivel, blunt nails scraping into the soft flesh of your waist. “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck me.”

With your knees planted on either side of his body, you begin to bounce in steady, rhythmic earnest, going for gold, the desire to bring your boy to the babbling edge overtaking every other thought.

“Feel so good, Eds, so big… can barely fit…” There’s a wet squelch accompanying each bounce now, slick dripping down to the base of his cock, your vice of a cunt flexing with every movement.

“S’all you, baby,” Eddie rasps out, toes curling in the efforts to keep his orgasm at bay for awhile longer. “Got a perfect pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

He’s almost in delirium territory, with you chasing after that bright unwinding pleasure at both of your cores; your hips stutter, hands flat on Eddie’s chest to center yourself, a hunger that you can’t seem to satiate gnawing at the edges.

Eddie notices immediately, feels the falter in your motion and brings his hands to your forearms, rubbing a path up them soothingly- “What’s wrong, angel, hm?”

You’re not sure how to put it into words, wishing (not for the first time) that you could just rest your forehead against his and transmit all the complexities of your emotions through touch alone.

Instead, you sigh out the name that you use when you’re done with taking, a name that lights Eddie up from head to toe as you say it- “Teddy.”

In one swift movement, Eddie slips an arm behind your back and flips you to the mattress, his hair a curtain around both your faces as he leans in to whisper against your mouth- “Teddy’s got you. Arms around me.”

You’re quick to obey, looping your arms around Eddie’s wide shoulders. He slides one hand up the back of your leg, pushing a knee up until it’s at your chest, mouth dropping open briefly when the new angle allows the head of his cock to kiss against that gummy upper wall of your cunt.

“Bored of you,” he huffs, recalling your words from earlier with disdain. “You’re talkin’ to the guy who memorized the first six chapters of The Hobbit just to recite for your bedtime.”

A quick thrust of his pelvis into yours has your stomach clenching in anticipation, brows on a tilt and knitting together as Eddie grins down at you. “Got a wicked attention span, baby. Lemme show you.”

He starts slow, agonizingly so, every inch of his thick cock dragging in and out, wetness pooling down your ass and probably the sheets, too; errant thoughts of housekeeping are rapidly erased as Eddie begins snapping his hips into yours in faster tempo.

He’s working to find that spot, the one that turns your brain to mush and is guaranteed to cause full-body muscle fatigue from the force of your orgasm. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pushing into Eddie’s chest, one arm still supporting your lower back as he laughs hoarsely, half-amazement and half-pride.

“That’s the spot, huh, sweetheart? Atta girl. M’all yours. Take it. Good girl…”

With each thrust, the wiry patch of hair dusted across Eddie’s pubic bone grinds slick and filthy against your clit. You’re so close to the edge now, a wave of pleasure cresting as you look up at Eddie.

There are two thin tracks of black makeup trailing down his face from where tears have made a mess of his eyeliner; rosy spots of flushed color in his cheeks, eyes like twin pools of chocolate, locked with yours as he rocks into you.

He’s learned the song of your body so well, knows every chord to strike- his hand leaves your leg to grasp at your breast, calloused palm against pebbled nipple sending more shockwaves through your body, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you sing for him.

“All yours,” you gasp out, and it feels like victory when his hips stutter and the cresting wave crashes around you both at the same time.

The pleasure roils through your gut, clit throbbing and cunt spasming around Eddie’s cock as he spills into you.

A wrecked, broken string of moans leaves you as you ride out the highs together. Eddie presses his forehead to your collarbone as he chants your name, twitching out the last of his spend, warmth blooming inside.

The quiet that follows is filled with shaking breaths, soft kisses, murmurs of “good job, sweetheart” as you both float back down to earth.

Eddie stays in you for longer than usual, his draped weight a grounding comfort as you trail gentle fingertips up and down his skin, lovingly against the scars that interrupt the smooth flesh of his back. Through the closed windows, you can hear the distant sounds of car horns and the deep boom of fireworks.

Sometime in the last foggy hour of lovemaking, 1987 has given way to a new year.

Eddie pulls his heavy head up from your chest to press kisses to your collarbone. “Happy new year, lover.”

You tuck his hair behind his ears, hands squishing lightly at his cheeks to bring his face close enough for a kiss. “Happy new year to you. Hell of a way to kick it off.”

Eventually, Eddie extricates himself from the intoxicating heat of your body (with minimal whining) and brings a warm washcloth to tenderly wipe away the mess between your thighs. Once you’re both cleaned up, he stretches out against the sheets, pulling the covers up as you hook a leg around his waist and snuggle in.

“So I was thinking,” he starts, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I wanna take a trip back to Hawkins. Before the tour.”

Your hand stills in its rhythmic circles against Eddie’s chest; heart in your throat, you tilt your chin up so you can gauge Eddie’s reaction. “...yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie picks up your hand on his chest, twining his fingers with your as his other hand settles on your bare hip beneath the sheets. “Could visit Wayne for a few days, fool around in that twin bed like we’re teens again.”

He grins at your giggle, taps playfully at your hip- “Gonna parade you around all our old haunts. You’ve gotten even hotter since we left, babe. Gotta really rub it in the faces of those Hawkins Tigers burnouts whose best dates are their own left hands.”

You snort, and Eddie looks pleased again, but then sobers a bit before saying- “I mean, I’ve got my piece of home with me. But I think it could be good, to visit. Just the two of us.”

You’re quiet for a moment, a longing for home that you’ve managed to ignore these past few years resurfacing. “Can we get high and go to that diner? I mean, Nell’s isn’t as good as Benny’s was, but I’ve been craving a Hawkins milkshake.”

“Christ.” Eddie hides his smile in the crook of your neck, dimples springing to life. “You could ask for the Mona Lisa and I’d find a way to get it to you. Fries and a milkshake, that all I need to keep my girl happy?”

“Yeah,” you reply, a contented noise as Eddie settles against your chest again. “That’s all I need.”

___

thank u thank u for reading if you made it this far have a little kiss from me to you <3 xx lulu

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie

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always-andromeda · 3 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Frankie Morales x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 3,038

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ After recruiting you to be his plus one for yet another wedding, Frankie can't help but ruminate on and regret the last one he brought you to.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ Hey, Lolabee!! I'm super excited to finally share that I'm your secret Valentine!! I apologize in advance for posting this so late in the game; exam week has been super hectic. That being said, I decided to give myself a little bit of a challenge and write something for Frankie for the first time ever. I should preface this by saying that when I read your prompt for rom-com vibes, I immediately began filing through all of my favorite rom-coms. And since my current favorite is Plus One, this fic is very much inspired by it!! Happy late Valentine's Day!! (dt: @thelightsandtheroses) (divider credits: @cafekitsune)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ fluff with little bits of angst (regardless, minors, please do not interact), no physical description given to the reader except for the fact that she wears makeup, mentions of alcohol and references to the reader drinking, the slightest references to Frankie's past, this fic is almost entirely removed from the movie's canon (these characters are basically my paper dolls that I'm making do cute things<3), idiots in love, they tease each other, they go to a wedding, misunderstandings occur, but it all works out <3

“You’re bringing your own tissues this time, right?” Frankie called from where he sat at the edge of the bed. He’d slept in far worse places. But he could already feel new knots forming on top of the old ones in his back. Needless to say, he wasn’t looking forward to spending yet another night attempting to sleep on the dense hotel room mattress.

You replied from the bathroom, “Oh, yeah, don’t worry. I’m prepared.”

“You better be. Because you’re not using my tie to blow your nose again.”

If you were in the room, Frankie could’ve practically felt your glare burning a hole through him. But instead he only heard the clear exasperation in your tone when you answered, “I did not use your tie to blow my nose.”

“Might as well have…” he mumbled. Santi’s wedding had claimed that casualty. By the end of the ceremony you’d soaked his tie in tears and covered it with a fine layer of translucent powder from dabbing your face off. And as much as he teased, he hadn’t minded it. He hadn’t minded it any more than he’d minded the distant friends and relatives who’d assumed that you were his girlfriend. Which…wasn’t an insulting assumption by any means.

The next time – at Benny’s wedding – Frankie brought you tissues. He didn’t like to think about Benny’s wedding. But if there was one thing he was happy about, it was that he’d thought far enough ahead to bring them for you. He was glad to see your smile. To feel your arms wrap around him as you thanked him and told him he was such a sweetheart. He was also grateful for the Hawaiian sun; for the developing sunburn that had prevented you from seeing how much that one nickname made his cheeks flush in that moment.

Your head popped out of the bathroom doorway, your makeup only half done, to aim a smartass smile at him with your lined lips. “Hey, I like to think of it as a gift. You should too.”

“Your ability to cry at the drop of a hat?”

“You're damn right,” you said indignantly.

Frankie sighed, pushing his hair back for about the dozenth time. He then laid back on the bed and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. “If we’re lucky, this is the first and last time you’ll need to worry about packing some to begin with. Will’s the last stop on the wedding train.”

The thought almost made him misty eyed. Within a few hours, he’d be the last single man in his crew. The last one awake at the sleepover. Eyes so wide they were practically ablaze staring through the uncertainty of night. Unable to find sleep. Unable to believe he’d ever find it to begin with.

Your voice cut through his trance. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Maybe next year we’ll get an invite for Tom’s second wedding,” you teased.

Frankie rolled his eyes. At least he could take some sort of comfort in that. Redfly had tried out the whole settling down thing. And it just didn’t work. Frankie wished his buddies well, but he couldn’t help but feel deep down that they’d never be made for domesticity. They weren’t made for teary-eyed speeches and destination weddings.

“Don’t count on it,” he drawled.

“Don’t count on it,” you mimicked Frankie’s slow, gruff voice which earned a small laugh from him. “I’ll tell you what, I bet you that Ben’s best man speech isn’t going to be nearly as good as Will’s was.”

He attempted to recall what Will had even said only a few months prior. It had to have been good, the man was a public speaker, for Christ’s sake. He guessed, “That one was long, right?”

“Yeah…don’t you remember it? Frankie, were you even there?”

“I was there alright.” He laughed to mask the wince he wanted to let out. Then he cleared his throat, throwing out another vague guess, “But I seem to remember that by the end of it, he needed some damn tissues too.”

“If you had a shithead little brother who managed to get married before he could experience massive head trauma, you’d probably get a little choked up too.” You added more to yourself than to him, “God, Frankie, how do you forget a speech like that? It was fucking beautiful.”

There was a very high likelihood that he had forgotten. Frankie spent almost every day following that entire night trying to forget it. And he wondered how in the world you remembered it either considering how much you’d drank.

If you could remember what Will had said…you should’ve remembered what you’d said too, right? You, standing in the bathroom and observing yourself in the mirror as you combed through your lashes to separate them, had to have known what you said to him that night. Because he knew it. Whether he liked it or not, he had that particular speech memorized with the way it ran through his head.

Frankie had known you were in a tough spot. Hell, it was part of the reason why he’d brought you along; part of the reason why Benny had insisted Frankie take you.

She just got broken up with, Frankie had tried to reason.

Benny had merely smirked, Which is the exact reason why you should invite her out. Give her a chance to get fucked up. Spend the night with one of the bachelors. It’s the quintessential wedding experience.

Frankie couldn’t have even pretended to mask his disgust at the idea. But he couldn’t lie…bringing you along again sounded leagues above going alone.

And now, sometimes he wished he had toughed it out instead.

No matter how much he tried to forget, the details always flashed through his mind. The way your fingers ran through his hair. How your touch managed to stay so soft despite how completely out of it you were. But that’s how you’d always been with him. Even at his absolute worst points when he was a less than ideal man, you found some shred of decency inside him that you never hesitated to cradle and nurture.

Maybe that’s what had made those tangles form in his stomach; the idea that he was taking advantage of that kindness.

Because that wasn’t…you. You wouldn’t have done that in your right mind. If your boyfriend hadn’t just broken up with you. If you hadn’t just found out that the entire time Nick had been cheating on you with that woman from accounting in his office. If you hadn’t drank way too much. None of this would be happening if you weren’t at your absolute lowest.

So he wiped the slate clean. It’d almost always been easy to do that. To simply forget. But he should’ve known better by now. Those things he somehow managed to lock up always found a way to ooze out of the cracks in his facade.

There were a few times Frankie thought you might crack during the ceremony. Especially when Will read out his vows, because of course the guy went the extra mile, delivering them with that stern reverence that made him the kind of guy you wanted on your team.

But you didn’t cry. This time…you grabbed his hand. It almost didn’t occur to him that you had until Will kissed his now wife and you squeezed Frankie’s hand in excitement. For a moment, he wondered if you’d managed to get a drink in before the ceremony. You couldn’t have; the bar wasn’t supposed to open until afterwards. He knew it couldn’t have been an alcohol induced action but he was still afraid to acknowledge it.

So he kept as still as possible. Even when the ceremony ended and you began to pull him around the venue. Though he knew his hand was getting clammier with every minute that passed, he let you drag him around the little circles of friends and family of the bride and groom. He had checked out enough that he didn’t quite realize what he’d gotten himself into until you were bringing him to the dance floor and positioning his hands on your hips.

Only when you let go of his hand and placed your own on his shoulders did it strike him how similar this felt to that night at Benny’s wedding.

You spoke like you were treading thin ice. “That speech was…surprisingly alright.”

“And you didn’t cry,” he remarked equally as carefully.

“I didn’t cry!” you exclaimed.

“It would’ve been fine if you had.”

You shook your head, “That wasn’t the kind of speech you cry at. It was simple. Sweet. I liked it. Who would’ve thought Benny’d have it in him, right?”

“So what do you do for that kind of speech?” Frankie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“A polite clap. Maybe a cheer.”

“A cheer? Maybe you should’ve brought your pom poms instead of tissues.”

The way you scrunched up your nose into a playful grimace tugged at his heartstrings. Then you laughed, “Shut up.” God, he loved when you and him fell into this groove.

So he continued with the bit, “You should get some for Tom’s wedding. The guy deserves a whole damn squad if he gets all tied up again.”

“Thought you said I shouldn’t count on it?”

“If you’re gonna count on anyone getting married soon, it’s better if it was him.” Frankie clicked his tongue, “Not like I’m going off the market anytime soon.”

“Oh, Frankie, stop it.” Your smile dropped ever so slightly, eyebrows turned inward as you gazed at him with something akin to pity or sympathy; he wasn’t sure which was worse. “You have no idea what the future could bring.”

“Not a wedding, that’s for damn sure.”

Your expression only intensified. He recognized it well after the amount of times you’d talked him off a ledge. “You can’t just discount the possibility entirely,” you argued.

“I can and I will,” he said stubbornly.

You were quiet for a few seconds, “So you’re telling me you’ve never thought about it? I mean…who would your best man be?”

“I’m not answering that.”

Your lip quirks to the side of your face as you feign a contemplative look before concluding, “Probably Santi.”

“Look at you, you did it for me,” Frankie deadpanned.

“I could plan the whole damn thing for you, don’t test me.”

“Why’s that?”

This time you pressed your lips together. And Frankie swears he felt you stumble over your own feet ever so slightly; like he’d caught you off guard with the query. “Oh, you know…weddings usually aren’t those things that people are eager to plan.”

“But why would you specifically be planning it? Unless you’re–”

A beat passes before you break out into an incredulous grin. “You’d want me to marry you and plan our wedding? That’s a tall order. I’m afraid you’ll have to pick one or the other, sorry.”

Frankie chuckles. He let the remark pass. He always enjoyed this back and forth. How you and him had always been able to bounce off of each other. It was hard enough keeping up with some of the guys. But keeping up with women was a whole different story. He always seemed to be a few steps behind most of them. For some reason, your pace was just perfect. Your humor, your timing, it all clicked with his personality.

Just like you were prone to doing, you broke the silence with an awkward laugh and big eyes staring right into his. “So…which one do you pick?”

He almost didn’t catch the question; almost didn’t want to. “Hm?”

“Would you rather marry me or have me plan your wedding?” you clarify.

“Come on, you know I’m not answering that.”

And the tide shifted once more. Just as quick as you were to smile, your expression melted into one of muted mortification. Like you’d just tilted your hand a little too far

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled to yourself. Your hands slid off his shoulders and you wiped them off on your dress before wrapping them around yourself. That was when you retreated, leaving him standing there looking like more of a fool than he ever thought he had.

He stared after you for a few seconds, struggling to process what had just happened when it finally registered.

Soon he was following after you. How you knew to navigate the venue so quickly, he couldn’t be bothered to wonder. All he knew by the time he got to the lobby of the wedding hall was that something was wrong.

He spotted you rushing down the sidewalk as he stepped outside. In all his exasperation, all he could get out was, “Hey, what the fuck?”

The cool night air of the fall settled in and billowed around him like a curse. He wasn’t quite sure if the deep chill that ran down his spine was from the weather or the sight of you turning around, eyes already wet with tears that you were desperately trying to blink away.

Your voice came out hoarse as you shouted back, “You’re asking me what the fuck? No, Frankie, what the fuck is up with you? I kissed you…God…how many months ago? And you don’t say a fucking word. I keep talking about Benny’s wedding and you keep acting like none of it fucking happened.”

Frankie threw his hands up. “You were drunk. I don’t even remember how many fucking drinks you had.”

“I had a couple virgin cocktails,” you scoffed. The admittance wasn’t stubborn. But it did come with a tone of disdain, “I wasn’t drunk.”

“You wouldn’t–” he stopped himself. You wouldn’t have done any of that unless you were drunk.

“You acted like you were drunk.”

You shook your head. “I was having fun. I was with you and I was having fun, you dumbass.” Then you sighed, gaze darting towards the street nervously. “And I woke up the morning after and I thought that…I thought you would’ve at least said something. I thought you would’ve asked me how I felt. I thought you would’ve had the decency to at least check in. But you were just…you were completely fine.”

“I wasn’t fine…”

“And now you want to crack jokes about marrying me?”

Frankie wagged a finger in your direction, an almost childish defense. “You brought that shit up first.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Frankie, that doesn’t matter,” you muttered before raising your voice once more. “What matters is that I kissed you. I looked into your eyes and told you I fucking loved you and you said nothing.”

Hearing your voice say it again, even filled with such frustration, such anguish, he could help the way something fluttered in his chest. And even still, he shoved it down deeper than he ever had before.

“Because I wasn’t going to hurt you the way that Nick did.” He watched your gaze soften. “It would’ve killed me to hurt you like that.”

With the sounds of the city passing you both by, Frankie caught one of the worst sights possible. The tear that rolled down your cheek. And then the few more that followed, all shamelessly continuing their desolate stride down your neck. How you unclenched your jaw and unfolded all of the pain you’d kept since that summer into a few words. “You hurt me worse than Nick ever did.”

Your whole being compacted in on itself once more, recoiling from the vulnerable admission with a breathless conclusion. “Fuck you, Frankie. Fuck you.”

There it all was. And all he could think about was that night at Benny’s wedding. The night you told him you were glad Nick was gone. The night you smiled softly at him, thumb running over his bottom lip as you whispered.

I love you.

They were such fragile words. Words he hadn’t wanted to put any weight on, lest they shatter from beneath him and leave him falling face down in his own hopes. Because a small part of him had almost always hoped it was you. He never let himself truly believe the idea for long. But, God, he wanted to…could he still? He squeezed his eyes shut, holding back his own tears.

“I’m sorry.” His voice trembled in time with his hands. And he’d fully come to terms that it wasn’t just the cool air. He wasn’t a stranger to fearing for his life, with the work he’d once done, it was a given. But this wasn’t that. This was different. It was a fear of something a little more abstract. Because following this risk, there wouldn’t be oblivion. On the other side of his eyelids was a world where you either forgave him or you brushed him away. He certainly believed he deserved the latter with the way he’d been. But he’d never know unless he took the plunge.

When he opened his eyes again again he was grateful to find you still standing in front of him. He wouldn’t let this night steal his courage again. He repeated, voice firmer than before and charged with certainty, “I’m sorry.” Then finally replied, “I love you too. I love you.”

You gave him those hope filled eyes once more. He saw how it slowly morphed into joy; the kind that carried peace. You stepped closer, fingertips brushing against the material of his jacket as you reached for him.

Frankie closed the gap without any hesitation, his own hand moving to cradle your face as he moved in to kiss you. None of his recollections of the first time he’d done it could’ve ever lived up to the second one. There was no dread, no looming guilt, no fear. Only excitement and hope.

“If I could only pick one. I’d marry you. Any day…I’d marry you,” he mumbled against your lips.

You pulled back. And with his eyes still closed, he felt you smile as you answered, “Maybe I’ll ask you again next year. For now, let’s have this.”

“I can handle that,” he smiled then melted into you once more. And already it was something he knew he could easily get used to. Next time you asked, he’d be ready.

#˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚#spacesisterssecretvalentine #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fic

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roxygen22 · 3 months

Text

Paper

"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series

Summary: Reader and Willy discover that Ben/Bean is an aspiring artist. Age: 3 & 17

<><><><><>

You were outside hanging clothes on the line to dry when you heard the back door slam and little feet running toward you. Before your brain could register what was happening, you were nearly bowled over by the force of Ben running into your leg.

You looked down to find that Ben had buried his face and balled up his fists in your skirt. "Pa ell a mm," you heard his garbled speech muffled by the fabric. You knelt down and pried his fingers loose so you could look at his red, tear-streaked face.

"I'm sorry, Benny. I couldn't understand you when your mouth was covered. Take a deep breath." You inhaled deeply through your nose and out through your mouth a couple of times, motioning for him to copy you. "Good. Now, try again. What's all this about?"

"P-papa lelled at m-meeee." The boy started sobbing again.

"Oh dear. What happened?"

"I..." he sucked in a breath. "I wanted to dwaw him a picture. I saw paper on Papa's desk..."

"Ah, I see. Did that paper already have words on it?"

"Only on fwont. I dwew on back."

"Oh, Benny. We talked about asking before you touch anything in the study. Papa has very important papers in there for the shop and factory."

"I'm sowwy." He looked up at you with big puppy-dog eyes. You cupped his round cheeks in your hands.

"I know you are. But I'm not the one you need to apologize, too. Why don't you go inside to your room and play while I go check on Papa. After that, you can tell him you're sorry." Ben nodded, then shuffled through the back door to his room with his head hung low.

It was out of character for Willy to snap at anyone. The man typically had the patience of a saint, so you knew Ben must have drawn on something important. You quietly stepped into the study and spied Willy slumped in the armchair, one hand supporting his forehead and one foot kicked out. It looked as if he had collapsed dramatically into it.

"I made him cry," Willy said morosely without looking up. "I didn't- I didn't mean to. I shouted his name. I was just trying to get his attention and stop him before he did more damage. I...I startled him, and he ran off to you."

"Full name or nickname?" you asked as you sat on the sofa next to him.

"Full name," he groaned.

You grimaced. Ouch, you thought. Willy hardly ever referred to the boy as anything but Bean and almost never as Benjamin unless introducing him to others. It's on par with your mother using your middle name when you were in trouble. You shuddered slightly. That probably wounded Ben worse than the volume. "What did he draw on?"

Willy held up the face page of a contract with the hand not supporting his head. He had yet to look up at you.

"Oh dear."

"I'll ask Beth to type up a new one tomorrow before the meeting. It wasn't worth raising my voice at him. I...I just had a long day and...of course, that doesn't excuse anything. Is he okay?"

"He'll be alright," you said soothingly as you placed your hand on Willy's arm. "He's calming down in his room. Like you said, he was startled. You are usually the fun one, not the disciplinarian."

"I should go to him," Willy said as he stood from the chair. You returned to your previous task of hanging out the laundry so they could have some time alone to make amends.

Willy walked to Ben's room and gently knocked before pushing the door open. Ben looked up at him from his desk with big sad eyes.

"Hey there," Willy said softly.

"I dwew you another picture. I'm sowwy, Papa," Ben said pitifully as he handed Willy a piece of paper.

"Oh, Bean. Is this the factory?" Ben nodded excitedly. "Wow, such great detail! Is this what you wanted to draw earlier?" Ben nodded again, with less exuberance this time. Willy's heart broke as he saw his son's face fall.

"Hey, buddy. I'm sorry for raising my voice and scaring you. That was a very important paper you were drawing on, and I needed you to stop."

"I know, Mamma told me I need to ask first," he responded dejectedly. "I just had a picture in my head that I wanted to dwaw when I was by your desk."

"Ah, that I understand. Sometimes my ideas don't come to me at convenient times, either. Tell you what. How about I set up a drawer with paper that's safe to draw or write on whenever an idea strikes. You never have to ask for permission as long as it's from that drawer. Deal?"

Ben's face lit up again, and he stuck his tiny right hand to shake. "Deal!"

Willy shook his son's hand with his right and looked down again at the picture in his left. It was incredibly well done for Ben's age.

"Can I take this to the factory with me? I want to frame and hang it. If you draw more, I'll have a whole gallery wall of Benjamin Wonka works."

Ben giggled, "Okay, Papa!"

<><><><><>

Over time, Ben's art skills matured to charcoals, watercolors, canvases, and paints. Willy spotted the talent early and took great pleasure in encouraging it, supplying it. Fourteen years later, he had indeed collected enough of Ben's work to fill multiple walls.

"People need to see this."

Willy decided to surprise Ben by converting one of his shops into a limited time art gallery for his 17th birthday. He somehow managed to promote what ended up being the town's social event of the season while also keeping it a secret from his boy.

It was finally the night of the big reveal. "Papa, why are we going to the shop so late? I thought we were going to meet Mamma and Charlie for dinner?" Ben walked shoulder to shoulder with Willy. They were nearly the same height now.

Willy was vibrating with excitement. "I just need to pick up something I left there," he bent the truth slightly. "Your birthday present."

When they arrived, Willy unlocked the doors to reveal a magenta velvet curtain blocking the entry. He took the gold pull cord in his hand and handed it to Ben.

Ben looked at the tassel in his hand, bewildered. "What is this?"

"Your gift! Pull it and find out." As Ben pulled the cord, the curtain drew back to reveal...

"Surprise!!"

Ben stood there with his mouth ajar as he looked around at you, Charlotte, Noodle, his friends and girlfriend. Everyone rushed him for a celebratory hug. He gave you a kiss on the cheek. Then, the background details caught his eye. The crowd separated as Ben made his way to look at the walls that were now decorated with his paintings rather than shelves of candies and chocolates.

He browsed in awe until he stopped at the penciled sketch of the Wonka factory, gently tracing the golden frame with his fingers. He felt Willy step up beside him and gently squeeze his shoulder.

"Happy birthday, Bean."

Ben looked over his shoulder to reveal misty eyes. "Thanks for always being my biggest fan, Papa," he said reverently.

"I'm glad I could be right here beside you when your talent is shared with the world."

<><><><><>

A/N: I think it's safe to say that Willy would be his kids' biggest cheerleaders.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

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justash02 · 1 year

Text

Womanizer; 08~

A/n; lemme know if you have feedback! It’s always welcome! So are Requests! Text me! I’m nice:>

Plot; Everyone who knew who Tom Kaulitz was knew that he was girl crazy, he's very well known for having girls around him all the time.

Pairing; Tom Kaulitz x fem reader.

Previous chapter -> next chapter.

Master list

Taglist<3

*^*^*

"Nah, I'll be on the couch. You and Clair can share my bed." Tom said brushing his fingers over my lower half sending goosebumps over my body. It seemed like he didn't really think much about the physical touch.

The rest already went inside, Tom had told Clair already in the car she could use his bed because he already thought we would wanna share it.

"Everything ok? Something seems to bother you." Tom asked, taking a cig from his pack that was in his back pocket. He handed me one before putting the pack back.

"Nah, nothing much." I uttered out, I watched as his veiny hands turned on the light, I wonder what does hands do-

"Liar." He said leaning against his car, he leaned closer, making me smell his cologne before lighting the cig on for me.

"It just feels like Adam's throwing it, you know? Like we've all worked so hard on achieving this and after..." I stopped to think.

"After our scene." He added in. Making me nod, "After our scene he started acting as if he's not even a part of XO anymore." Tom just nodded. Not feeling the need to say anything.

He believes that sometimes saying nothing is the best thing to say.

"Like most of the time I'm sleeping alone in our room, wondering where the fuck he is." I said taking a drag from my cig, I took it in deep making my longs burn.

Fuck does this feel good.

"Thought about talking about it with Ray?" He said, referring to our manager, "If it keeps going like this, yeah." He nodded, somewhat proud of me.

"Good girl."

"Ayo horny much?" I laughed out.

"For you, always." He said winking at me. "Ok womanizer, I know you don't like me. You're just looking for a quick fuck." I said trying to laugh the slightly painful truth away.

"I want to have the true love, but I personally don't think it's gonna happen. I just love so many women, I'm not sure if I can only have one girl in my life." I nodded, understanding his point of view.

"Maybe someday when you really have found the one you'll think differently?" I said looking at him, trying to avoid him seeing how his words had upset me.

"Yeah, yeah maybe." He whispered, he looked over at me for a second before throwing his cig on the floor. Stepping on it with his white Nikes (wish I was that cig.).

I did the same and went over to get inside, I looked back at Tom who was on his phones looking over the messages that were send to him.

"You coming?" I called out to him, he stopped typing for a second before looking up at me, he seemed deep in thought before saying; "Of course."

I couldn't help but feel warm inside, I smiled at him, waiting for him at the door step.

Tom opened up the door for us, "Clair wanna see my plane? It's name is Jumbie!" I heard Bill say drunk before jumping up and down with the plane in his hand.

"Were you guys having a hand to hard?" Ben wrapped his arm around Tom's shoulder and pulled him into his side.

"You wish you could get that sometimes, don't you Benny boy?" Tom teaser, poking his side. "Oh yeah, Bro, I wish I could get as many girls as you have." Ben said sarcastically making Tom mock him further.

"Not even Y/n cares about Jumbie!" I suddenly heard Bill yell making me jump a bit, I get slow when I drink ok.

"But I do!" I yelled back walking over to Bill and Jumbie, softly petting the paper plane in Bill's hands.

"You only have eyes for Tom." Bill whined making Ben laugh, "True that, Billio." Tom shook his head, smiling. "That's not true bill, I also have eyes for you." I cooed softly petting the boys now straight black hair.

"That makes me happy, baby." He cooed back, "Lemme go and get some makeup wipes for our faces." Clair started going on about Bill being a life saver.

I smiled and stumbled over the couch, "Yo don't you ever wish we had a partner?" Clair asked putting her head on my shoulder as soon as I sat in reach of her.

I just nodded, half asleep. "You deserve the best, Y/n/n." I smiled, my eyes still closed as I wrapped my arms around the blue haired girl.

"I love you so much, Clair." She turned around and cuddled me back. "I love you too, Y/n/n."

"Y'all acting a bit too gay for my taste." Ben said sitting on one of the lounge chairs close to the couch we were sitting on.

"Not for me though, keep going if y'all want." Tom said winking at us, Clair scoffed. "Help your boy out, he's getting horny." She pointed out.

"He's not my boy." I said, Tom didn't say anything.

"HERE ARE THE WIPES." Clair instantly jumped away from me grabbing a few wipes from the boy.

"Sorry it took so long, some of Tom's girls used them." Bill said handing me a few wipes too. I smiled and lazily started cleaning my face.

*^*^*

The next day I woke up and looked at Clair who was clearly still sound asleep. I quickly but quietly got out of bed and downstairs to grab some food.

As I walked down the stairs i suddenly saw a bun with dreads pop up from the couch. "Yo." He whispered, "Sup." I said tiredly before stumbling passed him into the kitchen.

I grabbed a glass and started pouring some juice, "Want some?" I whispered to Tom who was now next to me.

He nodded, His eyes were small and the bags under his eyes were very noticeable. "You didn't sleep?" I asked, he shook his head.

"The thoughts of what you and Clair could be up to in my bed kept me awake all night." He teased making me roll my eyes, "Horny fucker." He just winked.

"Nah but Ben was snoring the whole time." I laughed, "Yeah Clair said he would." I said taking a sip of my juice.

"I was thinking, do you maybe wanna hang out together?" He asked taking my glass out of my hand and taking a sip too.

"Like a date?"

"If that's what you want it to be, baby."

*^*^*

Tags; @oh-kurva @ajaxisbae @erensslut @ladyofladies @just-a-gay-loser @woodandwaxwings @hazashiovo @jay14344

(If I didn’t tag you I couldn’t tag you!)

#cute imagines #x reader #imagines #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #womanizer

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cluelessbees · 1 year

Text

A List of Reference to Previous Seasons in Season 4

I'm making this list to show how much detail they put into referencing past events. (These are everything I've noticed feel free to add more!)

1- The stalkers/What are you stalking me?

2- That's Presumptuous of you.

3- The Snow Ball

4- Pennhurst

5- Radio Shack

6- Benny's (Aka where Jason and his friends hung out)

7- Max’s Michael Myers Mask

8- The Bite/El's Scar

9- Max driving Steve's Car

10- El killing the Agents in Season 1

And probably a bunch more I didn't mention

and yet they forget Will's birthday?

Hmmm...

#stranger things #stranger things analysis #I guess #byler #birthdaygate #I don't buy the whole “we forgot”#there's literally no way #half these references I didn't even notice until I rewatched it all #and they managed to put them in even tho they claim they haven't watched past seasons in a while??#im gonna be honest I spent way too much time making gifs and collecting screenshots with this one chief #a rb would be much appreciated #my gifs

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perotovar · 6 months

Text

into the beat of the night (ch 3) "self control"

moodboard by the lovely @hellishjoel, gif by me

pairing: frankie morales/enby!oc!river price (they/them) rating: 18+ (minors dni) chapter warnings: fingering, one (1) handjob, discussions of sexuality/gender (in an... interesting way), goth stereotypes abound, swearing, more cute shit word count: 3k dividers by @saradika beta: @scenaaario (ily adrienne ♥)

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary and turn on alerts ♥

series summary: frankie thought he had himself figured out by now. he liked both men and women, had dated both in the past. but when someone that challenges what he thinks that means comes into his life, in an unlikely place, he truly learns who he is, and more importantly, who he loves.

series masterlist

“What’s their name again?”

“River. I already told you, Benjamin,” Frankie chuckled, taking a drink from his beer.

“Right, sorry. I’ve just never met a non… what was it again?”

Frankie, Benny, Will, and Santiago were at their usual bar that night. It was in a different part of town than The Night Owl, with a completely different vibe, but it was cozy. The four of them had become regulars and knew the staff by name.

“Non-binary person,” Will said, shoving Benny on the shoulder. “Are you listening at all?”

Benny shot his brother a look and stuck his tongue out, because apparently Benny was still five. “Of course I’m listening! Non-bi-nar-y,” he sounded it out, tapping his finger on the table with each syllable. “What does, uh… What does that like, mean, Fish?”

Frankie furrowed his brows and took another drink. “I haven’t actually asked yet. All they told me is that they’re like… both, and neither, at the same time.” He hummed thoughtfully. “I was a little distracted after that and didn’t get to ask.”

Santiago grinned, slapping Frankie on the shoulder. “Good for you, Fish.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, but smiled, thinking about the kiss he shared with River the other night. They kept texting, and he’d even asked River out on a real date, which brought the guys to the bar. It had been a year or so since his last date and he needed advice on where to take someone like River. He wasn’t as familiar with the goth subculture and thought maybe his brothers would have experience. At the very least Ben, who’d been with a few different kinds of people.

“I did look it up that night after I got home, but I’m still a little confused,” Frankie shrugged.

“Just ask them, man,” Will offered. “They seemed cool with your first question.”

Frankie nodded, a look of determination crossing his features. “You’re right. It couldn’t hurt, right?”

Frankie was sweating. Marisol was with her mom this week, so he hadn’t had to worry about having that conversation yet. He was planning on telling River about her tonight. He checked his hair in the mirror again before he left, deciding to go without his hat tonight, but worried all his nerves would deflate the work he put into it. He sighed as he messed around with the unruly curls again. This is why he stuck to hats. Frankie’s phone vibrated on the bathroom counter, startling him.

ok im ready, eddie 😉

River still thought it was hilarious that Frankie had worn an Iron Maiden t-shirt to a goth club, claiming that it fit his “old man aesthetic”, whatever that meant. This led to River referring to Frankie as “Eddie”, after the band’s skeleton mascot.

Yeah yeah i’m coming

Frankie saw the typing dots appear and disappear a couple times before disappearing completely. He sighed to himself and checked his hair one last time before leaving his apartment.

When he got to the neighborhood of the address River had given him, he checked his phone again, making sure he was in the right place. He slowly crept up the hill towards the last line of apartments and immediately his heart started pounding. Frankie really liked River. He didn’t want to fuck this up, and hoped him being a dad wouldn’t ruin that. Or his big dumb mouth.

River was standing at the bottom of the staircase of the apartment complex and waved, a huge grin on their face. Frankie stopped the truck and leaned over to open the passenger side door for them to climb inside. The scent of bergamot, clove, and sandalwood filled his nostrils again as the truck door shut. Frankie calmed down, and smiled, leaning over to give River a kiss on the cheek. “You look amazing,” he breathed, taking in River’s outfit; they had a collarless shirt buttoned up all the way, tucked into plaid pants, and nice dress shoes. All black, of course. They wore no lipstick today, their makeup was simple, and their hair was perfectly straight. It looked like they’d freshly shaved the right side of their head as well. River’s look was so new for Frankie, he couldn’t help being captivated by them every time he saw them.

“Thank you,” River smiled, heart skipping a beat. “Where are we off to?” They rested their ring-clad hand over Frankie’s larger one in between the two of them on the seat. “When you said it was a surprise, I admit I got a little nervous.”

Frankie placed his hand on the back of the truck seat and looked behind them as he backed up to leave the apartment complex. River’s eyes were glued to Frankie’s neck and subtly licked their lips at the sight of the thick muscles and veins. Their eyes moved up to Frankie’s side profile and they swooned.

“How come? Don’t trust me?” Frankie smirked, making eye contact before his eyes moved to the road, and started heading toward their destination.

River shrugged, even though they knew he couldn’t see them. “Maybe. Maybe not,” they smirked. The red light of the clock on the console caught River’s eye; 7:30pm.

“Well, that’s a shame. I had a nice dinner planned and everything,” Frankie showed them an exaggerated pout, a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh, well, in that case.”

The restaurant Frankie picked might’ve been a little more… casual, then he remembered. The last time he was here was with Jackson. He shook off the memory. He was here with River now. The place was actually more like a diner, with vintage photos of women in pinup-style outfits and poses.

Frankie reached for River’s hand and laced their fingers together as he found them a table, letting River sit first.

“Such a gentleman,” River teased, squeezing his hand before getting comfy in the booth.

“I try,” Frankie smiled bashfully as he joined them on the opposite side. The light shining down onto the table lit River beautifully. He noticed that River’s button-up was actually a dark green, with subtle velvet roses all over.

They ordered their food and made easy conversation. River talked about their job as an architect. They were working on designing a building that was be built in the next couple of years in the city. Frankie found it fascinating but couldn’t focus on the words, too distracted by their calming voice and watching their mannerisms. River talked with their hands a lot whenever they got excited about something, and Frankie thought it was adorable.

“Sorry, I know I’m rambling now,” River shook their head, cutting themself off. Frankie frowned,mouth full of french fries.

“Please, continue, I don’t mind listening.”

So River did. They talked about anything and everything. Frankie interjected here and there, but was more than content to listen to River talk. When there was a lull in the conversation, Frankie’s palms started to get sweaty. Their plates were empty now, but River still had half of their milkshake left.

It was now or never. Frankie took a deep breath.

“So… I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he started. River raised an eyebrow and rested their chin on the palm of their hand, listening. Frankie cleared his throat before continuing. “Um, so I know this is a dealbreaker for some people, so I won’t be offended if you want to stop things after tonight. B-But I would like to stay friends if that’s the case.” He rubbed his sweaty hands on his thighs. “I’ve got a daughter.”

River was quiet for a second before a small smile appeared on their face. “I’m actually not surprised. How old is she?”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not. You’re an incredibly handsome man of a certain age–”

“Hey.”

“And any woman would be stupid not to make an honest man outta you,” River winked.

Frankie blinked a couple times before chuckling softly. River continued to surprise him. “Well, her mother isn’t in the picture, at least not with me. Marisol, my daughter, sees her half the time, and stays with me the other half of the time,” he explained, crossing his arms comfortably over the table. “Oh, and she’s four.”

“Aww, can I see a picture of her?”

Frankie’s heart fluttered as pulled his phone out, opening the album of photos devoted just to his little girl. He slid his phone over to River and they started scrolling through the photos with a smile on their face.

“She’s adorable, Frankie,” River hummed, returning his phone back to him. “I can tell you think the world of her. I won’t lie, I’m not really… uh, a kid kind of person. I always just planned on being the cool cousin and not a parent,” they muttered, resting their chin on their palm again.

Frankie nodded in understanding. “I totally get that. I just figured it wouldn’t be fair to you, or to Marisol, to keep her a secret, y’know?”

“Absolutely, and I appreciate you telling me,” River nodded back. “But I like you. A lot. And I’m willing to give this a shot with you. So I don’t think Marisol is a dealbreaker.”

Frankie’s heart soared at River’s words. “I really like you, too,” he grinned like an idiot, cheeks warm. “C’mon, we still have another part to this date.” He stood up and held his hand out for River to take.

After paying, the two found themselves back in Frankie’s truck heading down the highway. It was starting to get darker and the roads were clearing. They pulled up to a drive-in, but there weren’t any other cars.

“What is this, Grease?” River teased. “A diner and then a drive-in movie?”

Frankie snorted and reached out his window to pay for their tickets before finding somewhere to park. “I happen to like drive-in movies and diners, thank you very much.”

“That’s because you’re old–”

“I’m only a few years older than you,” Frankie deadpanned.

“Details.”

About a third of the way into the original Halloween, Frankie put his arm around River’s shoulders and pulled them close. River happily cuddled into Frankie’s side, loving the warmth and softness they found there.

Halfway through, River’s eyes started wandering elsewhere. They looked down at the crotch of Frankie’s jeans, and wondered what lay beyond the tight denim. They looked up at Frankie’s face and kissed the little patch in his beard that refused to grow hair. Frankie looked down at them, deep brown eyes looking over River’s features. He went from their dark-rimmed eyes, to their collarbone, and back to their plush lips, his heart pounding. He didn’t need any further convincing and started kissing River deeply, holding the side of their face.

River hummed into Frankie’s mouth and slowly crawled into Frankie’s lap. They grinned as Frankie huffed a breath against their lips, holding River’s hips in his large hands. River kissed the corner of Frankie’s mouth before moving down to the side of his neck and sucked a mark where his neck met his shoulder. Frankie shuddered, moving a hand down and squeezing River’s ass. They lifted their head and looked at the far-away expression on his face.

“Are you one of those guys that doesn’t like to fool around on the first date?”

Frankie blinked up at River, thinking about it. “I mean, no, but–” “Good,” River growled, latching back onto Frankie’s neck and sucking hard.

Frankie moaned openly at that, but pulled them away. “Wait,” he breathed. River tilted their head to the side and didn’t say anything, letting Frankie continue. “Um, I had another question.”

“Okay.”

“Well, uh. I don’t mean to kill the mood, because God, I really wanna get back to that, b-but I was curious,” Frankie swallowed, not making eye contact again. “I looked up what non-binary was after you told me and I was a little confused, and basically I just– Um, I wanna know like, how… this would… work,” he trailed off, gesturing between the two of them and at the bulge in his jeans.

“You’re asking what I have so you know how to proceed.” It was a statement, not a question, said softly in understanding. River played with the curls at the back of Frankie’s neck.

Frankie nodded. “If that’s an invasive question, I’m really sorry, and–”

“Shh,” River chuckled, pecking Frankie on the cheek. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m not offended. You’re actually being really sweet about all of this. I know this is new for you.”

Frankie smiled shyly and shrugged, but let them continue.

“I was raised as a girl. ‘Assigned female at birth’, is typically what we call it,” River looked down, playing with the collar of Frankie’s shirt. “You were assigned male at birth. The doctors looked at your parts and decided that’s what you were, and you never felt like it was incorrect, right?”

Frankie nodded, listening carefully.

“Right. Well, it felt wrong to me. I didn’t really know what the feeling was growing up. It’s actually kind of a recent development for me.”

Frankie chewed on his bottom lip, one question still buzzing around his head. “How do you… How did you know? And did you… have any… surgeries? To um–” he didn’t know how to word any of this.

River laughed softly. “Yeah, I had top surgery. I no longer have breasts, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Everything below the belt is still intact,” they grinned, moving their crotch closer to Frankie’s. “The complicated answer, especially for someone so new to this, is that gender is a societal thing. How you’re perceived, presented to the world is just through the eyes of society. How you see yourself is what actually matters, though. And when all that societal bullshit doesn’t affect your life, the roles you’re ‘supposed’ to play don’t matter anymore.”

“I’m River. River is me. I don’t care how people see me. I did all of this,” they gestured to their body. “For me. Not for anyone else. Because if I didn’t, I would be unhappy. And my own mental health and happiness matters more than some so-called church-going do-gooder’s opinion.”

Frankie looked at River in awe. Their confidence and respect for themself was one of the most attractive things he’d ever seen. “You’re amazing,” Frankie breathed, surging forward to kiss them deeply. He gripped River’s ass again and pulled them closer, grinding his hardening cock against them.

River moaned softly, grinding back, and tangling their fingers into his hair. Suddenly, Frankie pulled back, catching his breath.

“Wait, does that, like…” He thought for a second. “While I was doing my research, I came across a couple other terms I didn’t know.”

River chuckled and kissed down Frankie’s neck softly. “Go on.”

Frankie’s breath hitched, speaking shakily. “Um, I’ve always considered myself b-bisexual– oh– a-and if non-binary people are technically a th-third gender, then does that change?”

“No,” River hummed, licking underneath Frankie’s ear, before taking the lobe into their mouth and nibbling.

“It doesn’t?”

River shook their head. “Bisexual is more like an umbrella term. People interpret it differently,” they reached a hand down between them, trailing their fingers to Frankie’s belt buckle and undoing it. “For example, you’ve always assumed it just meant you were attracted to men and women, right?”

Frankie moaned softly as the pressure was relieved from his hard cock, and nodded.

“Exactly. Another way you could see it is you being attracted to people that are like you,” they gripped Frankie’s cock tightly, making him gasp sharply. “And people who aren’t.” They grabbed his hand and placed it onto their crotch, grinding against him.

He was so hard he was throbbing, and so turned on his head spun. He started undoing River’s dress pants and slipped his hand down to their panties, finding their pussy impossibly warm and wet.

“Fuck,” Frankie groaned, rubbing at their clit through the fabric of their underwear. River moaned sweetly and bit their bottom lip, moving Frankie’s boxer briefs out of the way so they could grip around his cock.

“You’re so hard,” River grinned, rubbing their thumb over the tip. They started stroking him slowly, watching as the head of Frankie’s cock appeared and disappeared underneath the foreskin.

Frankie was breathing heavily, resting his head on the back of his seat and looking at River through his lashes. He moved the tips of his fingers in small circles for a few moments before he moved his fingers beneath their underwear and touched bare skin. River gasped at the contact and nodded, giving him permission. Frankie slowly sunk his middle finger inside them and started pumping in and out. His thumb rubbed in time against their clit. River started moaning louder, throwing their head back to expose their throat to him.

Frankie saw an opening and latched his mouth onto their neck, marking them in return as his free hand held the back of River’s head. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned, biting at River’s skin.

River shuddered at the praise, rocking their hips against Frankie’s hand. “‘M close,” they whined, panting down at him. They started to lose their rhythm on Frankie’s cock and squeezed him tightly in their fist. Frankie nodded in understanding and started moving his fingers faster, adding a second one as the slick sounds coming from between River’s legs filled the truck.

“C’mon, baby. You gonna come for me?” he breathed against their neck, leaving soft kisses against their skin. The contrast between what his mouth and what his hand were doing was overwhelming and River wouldn’t change it for the world.

River nodded, their brows moving downward in pleasure before stilling above him as they came. Their hips rocked back and forth over Frankie’s hand as they came down, moaning and biting their lip.

The sight of River coming was enough for Frankie and his cock twitched hard as he erupted all over River’s hand. He grunted and hid his face in their neck as his balls emptied messily. He whined softly, twitching in the aftershocks.

River giggled quietly and held him close after licking their hand clean. “Gonna have to blow you next time,” they hummed thoughtfully.

Frankie groaned as his oversensitive cock twitched between them. “Don’t say shit like that while I’m still vulnerable, you menace.”

River bit his cheek, then kissed it softly. “You love it.”

He did. He really did.

a/n: please enjoy this meme that inspired the scene above

#frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier smut #triple frontier fic #oaksfics

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beefrobeefcal · 8 months

Text

Dark!Frankie Saga: I

Chapter One: Signed and Sealed

Pairing: Dark!Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Boston. The Frontiersmen is a crime syndicate that deals in drugs, arms, and anything else they can to keep themselves on top. Since the original ring leader, Tom, was allegedly taken out by a rival gang, it's now run by Big Fish, with Pope second in command. Ironhead runs the numbers and Benny is the muscle. Your family member put you down as collateral when they needed credit to score more smack. Problem is, they can't pay it back, and Big Fish & the Frontiersmen always get their payment...

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Chapter Word Count: 4,353

Content Warning: Not smut yet (apologies), references to SA, drugs, violence, threats of violence, crime, food talk, weight talk

Author's Notes: An everlasting and beautiful thank you to @neverwheremoonchild for their never-ending THOTs, hot takes, and for beta'ing this. Your support is why I adore this platform - Thank you, Nevy! 💜🥩💜 Y'all say thank you to Nevy for basically brainstorming this with me!

And this is not the Chubby!Frankie we know and love in the Catfish & the Mouse universe; he's dark, mean, and hungry.

I'll be updating this each week (Monday/Tuesday) until you lose interest or I finish it - let's see what happens first! 👌

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The reality of the situation was hitting you hard. Your older brother, the one most would think of as a protector, had betrayed you in the worst way imaginable.

He had a drug problem for the majority of his adult life, but now it had become a full-blown catastrophe. Steven, your brother, owed money to some of the worst people in the state, maybe even the country. The Frontiersmen, a powerful syndicate, had allowed him to rack up a ridiculous debt that they knew he wouldn’t be able to pay, but you didn’t know what he’d put down as collateral – you.

You were now nothing more than a bargaining chip to prolong your brother’s coke problem and buy him more credit. You were now property being handed over to a terrifying group of men who made a profit off of people’s darkest needs.

“I know... I know I fucked up... I know I did.”, Steven sobbed into his hands in front of you. “I thought I’d be able to pay them back...”

You sat in your living room, numb to it all, watching Steven cry. You knew he was sorry now, but you doubted it was because of what he’d done to you. No, you were sure it had more to do with the fact that the Frontiersmen had cut him off until he paid his debt. Until you were turned over to pay that debt.

You weren't sure if it was minutes or hours that you sat and watched him sob in your living room, but it was interrupted by a knock at your door. Your head took a minute to process that your body was already moving and opening the door.

Standing in front of you was a tall, blond man and a shorter, dark haired man. Both their eyes were on you in cold stares. You just stared right back. You guessed who they were, or at least what they were doing here at your apartment. Wordlessly, you stepped aside and opened the door to allow them entrance.

The taller, blond man moved passed you and into the living room while the smaller, dark haired man waited for you to move so he could close the door and lock it.

You gave him a curt smile and nod, stepping back away from the door.

After closing the door, he turned around and looked you up and down, with a small, yet menacing smile. He huffed in a dry laugh before motioning you to the living room.

A sour feeling washed over you and your mouth salivated like you were going to be sick, but you looked down and walked into the living room where your brother was on his knees in front of the blond man.

“... so she had no idea you signed her life away?”, the blond man scowled then turned to look at you.

His icy stare caused you to shrink and wrap your arms around yourself. You stepped back, bumping into the shorter, dark haired man. His hands came to your arms gently and he held you in place.

“Benny...”, he warned in a low tone. “We came here for two things: payment and a reminder.”

Your body trembled in his hold, and he rubbed your arms gently. You knew better than to believe he actually gave a shit about you, and he was more than likely doing this to get you to go with them without making a scene. You weren't going to resist; their reputation was more than enough incentive to go quietly.

“He’s a shitbag, Pope... fucking sold out his sister!”, he barks, his eyes narrowing at you, then snapping to the other man while he motioned his hand at you. “She didn’t even know!”

“Payment, Benny!”, Pope spoke sharply. “Payment and a reminder. That’s it.”

You jumped when Pope’s volume increased but stayed in place, and Benny looked at you again, his eyes now reading more furious than cold.

You swallowed thickly, the lump in your throat growing, and looked down.

“I’ll fucking remind this sonofabitch...”, Benny muttered as pulled out a rag and wrapped it around his fist.

Your lip trembled and Pope’s hands stopped their gentle rubbing, and he held your arms a little firmer, pulling you back against him.

“You don’t need to see this, honey.”, he said softly in your ear, causing you to shudder at the warmth and tenor of his voice. “Unless you want to...”

You kept your gaze low, not noticing the look of remorse and sympathy Benny gave you as you shook your head.

“Come on then.”, Pope said softly, turning you around and tilting your face up to his with his finger and thumb on your chin. “Are you gonna behave or do I have to cuff you?”

Your eyes widened and your body’s trembling intensified; you shook your head and squeaked out, “I... I’ll behave.”

Pope smiled at you, eyes roving over your face, and he nodded. “Let’s get some things packed up for you and head to the car.”

He watched as your shaky hands packed a bag in your bedroom; clothing, toiletries and personal items. He confiscated your cell phone and laptop, saying that they had to be secured first and you might get them back. He picked up your packed back and led you to the door.

The last thing you heard as Pope led you out was the sickening sound of a fist hitting flesh and Steven scream.

*****

Frankie was a reluctant leader. He didn’t ask to be put in charge, but his strategic problem solving, and his restrained demeanor worked in his favour to put him at the top.

Since Tom was taken out, both Pope and Will had said that Frankie was the best choice to lead the Frontiersmen if he gave up his coke habit. Kicking that was easy; the hard part was filling the void that was left. But he found something with relative ease.

Will watched Frankie as he finished his large pizza; he was now used to watching Frankie eat in their meetings. He’d watched as Frankie had gone from being a lean and muscled soldier with an angular face to what the new leadership role had carved him into over the past few years – big. His thick and muscled arms stretched his sleeves, his face was fuller with a patchy beard, and big belly pulled every shirt he owned taut around the middle when he hadn’t eaten to capacity. Despite his weight gain, Will was glad his friend and boss was off the smack.

“Where’s Pope and Benny?”, Frankie asked between bites.

“Picking up payment from that skid, Steven. Not money.”, Will said, eyes down in his notes, avoiding Frankie’s questioning look.

“Not money?”

“The collateral he put his debt against.”, Will said in a blunt tone, hoping to move on before having to elaborate. “We have a few things we need to iron out when they get back...”

“Collateral but not money?”, Frankie asked again in a firmer tone. “Explain what the fuck that means.”

Will sighed. This ‘collateral’ was a holdover from when Tom was in charge, and despite him not liking it, he felt it necessary to hold Steven accountable and take what they were owed; he agreed to the decision with Pope to move forward, and they were both going to tell Frankie about it. But Pope wasn’t back yet, and it was left to Will.

“It’s not money.”, Will said, avoiding Frankie’s raised eyebrows.

“Yeah... I got that. So, what is it?”

“His sister.”

Frankie groaned and put his head in his hands. “Please, for the love of god, tell me Pope isn’t bringing back a person in lieu of payment.”

“He is.” Will kept his eyes low. He knew he and Santi were taking a risk doing this, especially given they were going above Frankie’s head. But they also knew that Frankie needed to put fear in the minds of anyone who had a debt to pay.

Frankie’s jaw tightened and he sat back and looked at Will.

“Will.”, he barked. “Look at me and tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“It’s an old contract we had with this guy... it was done up under Tom.”, Will paused, then sat forward, hardening his tone. “Look, Pope made the call and I agreed. You need to scare the people that owe you money; you need to collect on your debts. People are starting to think you’re going soft, Fish.”

It wasn’t a lie. Frankie was more lenient than Tom was, allowing for extensions and lighter repercussions. There were more people willing to deal with late penalties than actually pay, and Will didn’t want this to get out of hand. He just wished Pope was here to tell Frankie himself.

“Fuck.”, Frankie snapped. “Maybe so, Will, but we’re not human traffickers! We don’t take people!”

“Steven has a big mouth. He’s not going to sit on this. He's going to run his mouth, looking for help to get her back. Words going to get out that you – YOU, Frankie – took his fucking sister. He’s not going to tell anyone that he put her down as collateral. He’s going to paint you as the asshole who took what he was owed. It’s good PR.”

Will sat back, hoping this would be enough to keep Frankie from losing his shit.

“So, we took some girl because this fucking skid couldn’t pay.”, Frankie spat out, clenching his fist. He raised his voice, yelling, “And my name gets dragged through the mud as the fucker who called for it?”

Will raised his hands, trying to calm him. “Your reputation as someone not willing to let debts go unpaid is solidified, Fish.”

Frankie sat back, aghast. His mind suddenly went to Steven’s sister.

“Did she know?”

Will looked down at his notebook, then up again. “I don’t think so. Pope messaged and said she was pretty shook up.”

Frankie let out a heavy sigh and put his head back in his hands. “What else did he say?”

Will hesitated with a smile on his face and waited for Frankie to look at him. “He said she’s hot.”

*****

You didn’t look out the window to see where you were headed. Sitting between the two men, you glanced over at Benny, seeing the small spatter of blood on his sleeves – your brother’s blood. A sick vindication warmed your cheeks, knowing he was at least bleeding for what he’d done, even if it wasn't specifically for what he’d done to you.

Benny noticed you looking at his hands, and he grinned.

“He pissed his pants.”, he chuckled. “Had the nerve to beg me not to hurt him.”

You nodded, eyes darting back to your own hands in your lap. While it gave you a moment of reprieve from the imminent doom creeping through your mind, it didn’t help the situation he put you in.

The car slowed to a stop and Pope opened the door, getting out.

“Benny, take her to the rec room. I’ll get Fish.”

Your blood ran cold. Fish, otherwise known as Big Fish, was the head of the Frontiersmen and it scared you shitless to know you were going to meet him.

Benny nudged you. “Come on, honey.”

You looked up at him, trembling, and nodded. Shakily taking his hand, he helped you out of the car. Grabbing your bag from the trunk, he put his hand on the small of your back and guided you inside the building.

“Shakin’ like a leaf, honey.”, he mused. “Just behave like a good girl and you got nothing to worry about.”

You nodded again, feeling your chin quiver. Behave like a good girl. What does that mean? Sudden realization washes over you in a cold sweat as to what payment they could want from you. Your breathing became ragged at the thought of what they would do to you, do to your body.

Benny opened a door to a rec room with some men playing darts, drinking, talking.

“Clear out, boys. Boss’s coming down.”, Benny boomed.

All eyes were on you now, and with a firm look from Benny, they began to leave, murmuring and hushed voices wondering who you were and what was going on.

“Didn’t ask for you to clear out slow, boys!”, he barked angrily, making you flinch. “Fuckin’ move!”

With that, the room was cleared almost instantly, and Benny led you to an armchair, guiding you to sit.

“You want anything, honey?”, he motioned to the fridge, walking towards it, looking at you with a warm smile.

You shook your head, keeping your eyes low.

“You sure? We got some soda, beer... “, he said, taking stock of what was in the fridge, then turning back to you. His face fell when he saw the thousand-yard stare in your eyes.

He tapped the fridge with his fingers, thinking. He didn’t like that you were being used like this. You were pretty and seemed sweet, and definitely didn’t deserve what your skid mark of a brother had done to you.

“Hey. Can you cook?”

You look over to him and nod slowly.

“What’s your specialty?”

“My… my what?”, you asked, shaking your head.

“What’s your go to recipe that you know you’re good at makin’, honey?”, he responded, closing the fridge and leaning against it, facing you.

“I… I make a pretty good lasagna.”

Benny’s grin was wide, and he nodded. “Perfect.”

*****

“What the fuck were you thinking?”, Frankie bellowed at Pope, slamming his fist down.

Both he and Will were seated at the table in the office while Frankie stood, reprimanding them.

“Fish… the guy’s a fucking junkie and he wasn’t going to be able to pay. Just took what we’re owed – what you’re owed!”, Pope tried to reason.

“I’m not owed a fucking person, Pope! You shoulda just let Benny break his legs or something.”

“Broken leg isn’t enough for his debt, Frank.”, Will said calmly, leaning back in his chair. “He owed way too much money. Broken leg, even legs, isn’t going to cut it. Needed to be bigger. Something to scare him and anyone else not paying shitless.”

Frankie held onto the back of his chair and shook his head angrily. “Why didn’t you ask? Why didn’t you fucking talk to me first?”

Before Will could try and reason with Frankie, Pope casually said with a smile, “Because I knew you would’ve balked at it. Would’ve said no.”

Will sighed and gave Pope a glare and Frankie looked at him, furious.

“So, you run this fucking show now?”, Frankie growled with his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the chair.

Pope’s smile fell and he raised his hands. “Not what I meant, Frankie. I just saw an opportunity for you to make a statement and – “

Frankie harshly threw the chair out of his way and stalked over to Pope, leaning over him and spoke in a terrifyingly low growl.

“You go around me one more fucking time, Santiago, I’ll cut your fucking hands off.”

He kept his face, full of contempt and fury, close to Pope’s, and Pope nodded at him, sweating under Frankie’s glare, knowing full well what he was capable of – cutting off limbs being one of those things.

“You, too.”, Frankie snarled as he stood up, pointing at Will. “Understood?”

They both nodded. Frankie’s loud voice and stature, wide shoulders and strong arms, already made him intimidating when he was mad, but with the added bulk he was carrying, he was downright terrifying.

“Yeah, un-understood.”, Pope stammered.

“What do you want us to do with her?”, Will asked quietly.

Frankie leaned back on the table; it groaned under his weight.

“You brought her here with no plan for her? What the fuck is wrong with – “

Will interjected quickly. “She could be useful… for you.”

“What?”, Frankie barked, standing up.

Pope knew where Will was going with and added with a dark grin. “She’s a fucking hottie, Fish. Could be useful.”

Frankie shook his head and looked at Will, ignoring Pope’s comment, and speaking in a harsh tone. What do you mean – useful for me?”

Will swallowed. “Maybe she’s got some skills, can be put to work. If Pope’s right and she’s cute, what’s the harm? Not like she could say no to you.”

Frankie thought for a moment. She could say no… and if he fucked her anyway, what did that say about him?

“Jesus, Will…”, he huffed, shaking his head. His eyes coldly looked up and met Will’s, and growled loudly, “The fuck is wrong with you? I expect that kind of shit from him, but not you.”

Frankie moved and stood right in front of Will, arms crossed and glaring down at him.

“That’s not what we do.”, he snarled lowly. “That’s what fucking Tom did.”

Will glanced at Pope before nodding at Frankie.

He held the glare with Will for a moment longer then looked between the two men.

“Where is she?”, he sighed.

“With Benny. In the rec room.”, Pope murmured.

Frankie rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, then motioned for Will get her.

*****

Benny had been trying his hardest to keep you calm and distracted with questions and musings for the last hour and a half. He was occasionally interrupted by one of the grunts – as he called them – wandering in to hang out, not having gotten the run down from any of the other guys that the rec room was closed, and Benny would chase them out.

“… so this guy’s got a wrench and I only got a plastic spoon, and he’s comin’ at me with it – “

Benny’s story is interrupted by the door opening. He turned to yell at whoever it was to get out but stopped when another tall, blond man walked into the room. He looked you over quickly and nodded his head to Benny.

Benny stood up and walked towards the man and speaking softly. As they spoke, you could only hear bits and pieces, but you were able to pick up was that this man’s name was probably Will and Benny told him you could cook.

Will held his hand up to shush Benny and walked towards you. He sat down in the armchair Benny previously occupied, while Benny stood to your other side, hands in his jean pockets.

Will let out a long sigh as he sat back, elbow on the armrest and chin on his fist. You could feel his eyes burning over you as you kept your own low and on his shoes.

“Benny says you can cook.”, his voice was cool and flat, with a slight lilt to it.

You nodded. “Yeah… yes. I can cook.” You tried to match at least his flat tone, but the fear Benny had spent the last while trying to quell had sunk its fang s back into you.

Will nodded and looked at Benny, nudging his head to let him know he could leave - he should leave.

Benny huffed a nervous breath and left the room. But he didn’t go far; you could see his shadow lingering under the door.

“Not gonna beat around the bush, honey. Boss doesn’t want you here, and frankly, neither do I.”, he said plainly with a hint of warmth.

While there was no malice in his voice, the smoldering anger in his eyes said otherwise. You nodded.

“But you’re here, and you say you can cook. Boss needs someone to cook for him since the last one was caught stealing and… went for a swim.”

“I can cook… wha-what does the boss like?”, you ignored his last statement and forced yourself to speak.

“Boss likes pretty girls.”, Will chuckled with a small smile, leaning forward and putting a hand on your knee. “Especially likes pretty girls that can be useful.”

You lowered your head and nodded, trying to hold back the full body shudder that was desperately trying to rip through you.

He watched you closely when he spoke, trying to get a reading on how easily you were intimidated. While he knew Frankie would more than likely act like you weren’t there, he couldn’t say the same for Pope or himself, let alone any of the other men, and until Frankie said you were off limits, you were fair game.

“Don’t be shy, honey. No one else here is gonna be.”, he said with a dark chuckle. “Look at me.”

You looked up at him and the menacing glare in his eyes glowed.

“Just behave like a good girl. You might make it out of here alive.”

*****

The Benny who had tried to console you was gone the moment you walked out of the rec room with Will. He was now cold and stoic, no emotion, and he was intimidating. Benny walked ahead of you and Will walked beside you, his arm around your waist and they led you down the hallway.

Benny turned and opened a door, walking in and standing to the side, remaining at the door as if to keep guard.

It was an office. At the far end was a floor-to-ceiling window that spanned the wall, looking out onto the pier, with a desk in front if it, facing you. Behind the desk was a large, high back swivel chair, and in front of it were four plush lounge chairs, arranged to face the desk. Along the sides of the office were shelves containing books, pictures, and other personal odds and ends. Everything was either wood or brass, unless it was upholstered; the room was dated and smelled like stale cigars, old wood, and another scent that took you a minute to place - pizza.

Will ushered you to sit in one of the centre chairs facing the desk and stood behind you with his hand on your shoulder, as if he thought you might try and escape – you’d given up on that idea back in your apartment.

There were a pair of footsteps approaching outside the door and your body stiffened; Will gave your shoulder a squeeze as the door opened. You kept your head low and forward, not daring to look at who came in, although you were sure you knew who it was.

Pope came and sat in the chair next to you and smiled. Will removed his hand and sat in the chair on your other side, and Benny stood behind you. Heavy footsteps moved between your and Will’s chairs, and then you saw him.

He was tall with broad shoulders, and was wearing fitted, faded jeans and a black and red bowling shirt. His crossed arms stretched the sleeves, and the desk creaked as he leaned back on it. You dared to look up at his face, and you were taken aback; instead of the steely blue stare you got from Benny or Will, or the dark, cold void that Pope had, you were met with big brown, warm eyes looking you over, and a soft face sporting patchy facial hair and mustache. His hair was dark brown and slicked back. Your eyes flicked down his large frame quickly and you noted how his buttons pulled across his ample stomach.

“Huh.”, he mused quietly as his eyes trailed over you more blatantly. His tongue flicked between his lips softly as if he were thinking.

“Pope was right. You’re cute.”, he huffed, putting a toothpick in his mouth. “I don’t have any fuckin’ use for cute.”

“She cooks.”, Will interjected.

Frankie’s eyes darted to Will and then back to you, and he looks you up and down again.

“Okay… so you cook.”, Frankie said with a hint of annoyance. “What else you got?”

Your eyes looked up to his face and you were met with his mouth pulled into a tight line and his eyes baring down on you; the intensity of his stare was almost too much. He raised a brow at you as if to say I asked you a question.

You looked back down at your hands, needing to break the connection your eye contact with him had made.

“I used to… used to work in an office. I can file, balance books… other administrative… things - ”

“Interesting… Tell me you’re thinking the same thing I am, Fish.”, Pope chuckled quietly. “A hot secretary.”

He turned his attention to you and his hand moved to your thigh, his fingers roving under your skirt and up closer to your crotch. His voice dropped into a honeyed tone, dripping in venom. “You ever fucked your boss, honey? You’ve got four now.”

You try to not make any movements, but the subtle way you shift screams your discomfort.

“Jesus, Pope. Stop.”, Benny huffed under his breath behind you.

Pope chuckled and gave your thigh a squeeze before removing his hand. Frankie’s stare didn’t leave you; he wanted to see how well you handled being the target of men’s overt advances and their groping. His narrowed eyes watched as you tried not to squirm or give a reaction to Santi’s hand or words, and he frowned.

The only sound in the room was the desk Frankie rested on creaking as he shifted his weight. He sighed deeply.

“Ben, get her a room set up in the barracks. Take her with you. I’m fuckin’ done looking at this.”, he grunted, motioning his hand aggressively in your direction.

“I can take her.”, Pope chimed in with a low and crooning voice. You could hear the grin in his voice and his eyes in you, and you wondered what changed from when he came to your apartment to now.

“Fuck off, Pope!”, Benny hissed.

“Hey!”, Frankie yelled angrily. “Pope, stay right the fuck where you are. Benny, get her out of here. Now!”

Benny’s hand quickly came around to your arm, tugging you out of the chair, and out of the room. The last glimpse of Frankie you got was watching him glare at you from his position against the desk.

--------<3---------

TAGLIST:

@theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @blackfemalenerd @noxturnalpascal

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #pedro pascal tummy #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #chubby frankie rights !!!!!#dark!frankie au #dark!frankie still chubby though #beefro's bistro #beefro is sweating #🥩

144 notes · View notes

basilone · 3 months

Text

Rating: M Fandom: Masters of the Air Characters: Benny DeMarco, Gale Cleven, Original Female Characters, mentions of other characters because they do not live in a bubble here Note: features canon-typical refs to death/dying etc., but if you watch the show you can handle this fic just fine. The only thing you gotta know about this AU before you start is: the history's the same, but there are women added to the bomber crews. References to Catholic imagery and the Italian-language prayers (Our Father/Hail Mary), as well as Benny hailing from Chicago in this one, are firmly based in fact. You might recognize fractions of episode 3 in this one, though it's not a play-by-play retelling by any means! Summary: Benny DeMarco omits one line from his prayers every time he pilots a bomber. The only time he speaks of mortality is when his feet hit the ground. Now, on a run that takes him all the way to Africa, he finds himself connecting with someone who'll call upon anything that's useful – from saints to baseball players – in order to make it out alive.

full of grace

He has lost count of how many Hail Marys he has held in his mind like rosary beads. Ave Maria, piena di grazia… Benny almost raises his eyes to the cockpit’s ceiling in supplication. Fixes his gaze on the point between the flak and debris instead – on that bright blue sky, colored like the robe on Mary’s statue back home – and rounds out the prayer that is taking shape in his mind. Santa Maria, Madre di Dio, please fucking save us, prega per noi peccatori, give us a goddamn break, amen.

There is a part to the prayer he does not bring into flight with him. Can’t. Bad luck all around to even think it, especially now that they’re so close to target. He’d have to do more than rap his bare knuckles on the strip of wood near his seat to ward that off. Would have to pray a thousand more Hail Marys, tumbling into the recesses of his thoughts like a game of marbles, before he’d feel safe flying this thing again.

There’s some things you just don’t take up with you. You don’t take fights. You don’t take grudges. You don’t take pictures of dames – no, Buck, not even Marge-with-the-pretty-smile – and you don’t take a completed prayer. It’s just common sense, like the dice and the strip of leather from Meatball’s harness he pocketed pre-flight. You take the things that bring luck. Leave out all the rest. Live with the feeling of your teeth about to rattle out of your skull with each hit you take, the twang of fear thicker on your tongue than the strongest liquor could ever be, and say a little half-moon prayer on every next breath.

And then, well, then there is that sweet, sweet feeling of being almost there.

[read the rest on AO3!]

#masters of the air #mota #bernard demarco #gale cleven #mota oc #oc: stella #basilonefic #I wrote a 5k goodiebag!#that I really really hope people will enjoy

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romanarose · 10 months

Text

Gross Reality

Santiago Garcia x fem!reader

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Triple Frontier Masterlist

800 Words

Summary: You are on your period and feel disgusting, Santi isn't phased.

Content Warnings: BODILY FLUIDS, all the bodily fluids. This fic is just me being self-indulgent because I'm feeling disgusting on my period today. Breif reference to butt stuff bc it's me. But mostly, if bodily fluids like puke and shit gross you out, keep going but I know this is the reality for many people who get periods.

A/N: In my head, this takes place in a lil universe of several of my Santi fics, including the one I did with Dolli, Honest Mistake, and but more importantly another Santi period fic I referenced in this fic, Santi With a Reader on Her Period.

****************

Santi Claus: Hey babe, you wanna come over today? The new Spider-verse movie is on Disney plus, we can refuel your fanfiction inspiration 👀or inspiration 👀 for other things 👀

Benny’s Hot Friend: Can’t, busy sitting on the toilet.

Santi realized, again, he needed to change his girlfriends name from what he had drunkenly put it in as months ago at Will’s engagement party.

Santi Claus: … just sitting there?

Benny’s hot friend: No, dumbass

Santi Claus: Did you get distracted watching tik tok for an hour again?

Benny’s Hot friend: NO! Im on my period and it’s day two and everything is fucking awful and I wanna die and I think I’m going to on this toilet

Santi Claus: Cramps?

Benny’s Hot Friend: Shitting, Santi. Shitting. I’ve bled through my tampons after 30 minuets and i'm sick of it and I keep needing to shit and it’s disgusting and I’m disgusting and I’m just free bleeding over the toilet and shitting when need because I can’t trust my farts ARE YOU HAPPY

Santa Claus is typing

Santi Claus is typing

Santi was very carefully plotting his next words.

Santi Claus: Amor, have you eaten today?

Benny’s Hot Friend: NO I HAVEN'T EATEN TODAY SANTI IF YOU MUST ASK AND I HAVEN'T HAD ANY CAFFEINE EVERYTHING IS TERRIBLE.

When he didn’t respond, you assumed he’d gotten sick of your shit. It wasn’t that long ago that you happen woken up on top of him with a surprise early period, bleeding all over your new boyfriend who you hadn’t even farted around, and now, although you were more secure, you still worried you’d come across as gross and bitchy and he was over it. Your periods were horrible, the first 2-3 days at least. Dejected, you clean yourself up but only to go get more pain medicine and plot yourself back down on the toilet.

Another round of cramps came and pretty soon you could add tears and puke to the list of fluids exiting you, ready to just get into the bathtub and cry when you felt your hair being held back and you look to your side to see Santi, eyes concerned and worried, but not disturbed.

“Do you need a hospital, mi vida?”

You shake your head. “No, tummy just hurts.”

Not deterred, Santi holds your hair and rubs your stomach as you empty into the trashcan until the pain subsided enough to try taking a pill again. Dutifully, Santi cleaned up the trash can and your face before guiding you up rinse your mouth out with mouth wash, all while muttering oft praises and encouragement. ‘There we go, let it out’ ‘Do you feel better? Bien.’ ‘Doing good, just spit it out now’

“Santi, I’m sorry, this is so gross-”

“Oh hush. This is far from the worst I’ve seen.”

“Saw worse in the military?”

“No- well, yeah, but I was thinking about the time Benny called me after getting food poisoning from Taco Bell and I had to play big brother while Will was out of town.”

“Yeah” You pant, stomach hurting. “I’ve had to deal with him sick too. He’s a bigfucking baby. Now can you please get out, I need to shit.”

Santi scoffed at that. “You think I don’t shit? I shit all day, three times before lunch-”

“Yeah, you should get that checked out”

“-I’m not phased. I’ve had my finger in your ass, I can handle what comes out of it.”

Finally, you giggle, smiling at him as he sat at the tub edge. “Okay, your funeral.” You bent over in pain again, wondering what the fuck you did to deserve this nonsesnese every month and what you did to deserve to deserve such a loving boyfriend. You wanted to marry this pain in your ass, marry him so hard. He talks to you while you take care of business whipping your face when you get the cold sweats

“Santi, I love you but you’ve gotta get outta here while I clean up.”

He chuckles, but concedes. “Okay, I brought over chinese food-”

“Oh FUCK YEAH”

“-and coffee”

“FFFFFUUUCCKKK YEEEAAHHH”

“I’ll get it ready in the kitchen when you’re done”

He does as promised and you begin to clean up when you get a ding on your phone. You didn’t realize it was Santi’s until it was too late, and you saw it. No, he wasn’t cheating. No, he wasn’t talking shit. It was the last text you sent him and you saw what your name was on the screen.

Benny’s Hot Friend.

“Santiago Garcia!” You stand in the kitchen with his phone, fully dressed but your hair clinging to your face from sweat. “Wanna explain my contact name?”

He looks confused, then his eyes widen and he stops plating your food. Muneca, listen, I can explain-”

“BENNY’S HOT FRIEND?!” But you were smiling.

He starts to back away, hands raised in defense. “I said you were hot!”

“Did you forget my name that night?”

“Honey, I had like 8 beers and I’m a short king! I was drunk!”

Playfully, you run at Santi, threatening to bleed on him again.

***************

Anyway, shout out to my Peeps in the whorefully yours discord! we all go there and complain about our periods bc they suck. Mine arent THAT bad, I mostly had the shits and the excessive bleeding and I do just sit on the toilet sometimes but I know other people who throw up from the pain.

Your pain is real, and you deserve someone to take care of you

@fandxmslxt69 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @whatthefishh @k-ra @eyelessfaces @ivystoryweaver @steven-grants-world @campingwiththecharmings @ahookedheroespureheart @littlenosoul

#santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #santiagogarcia reader #x reader #santiago garcia reader #fem!reader #santiago garcia fem reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier reader #sick fic #sic fic

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hirik0 · 10 days

Text

You always meet twice 9

Ghost/Soap

NSFW

It took nearly 3 months for them to have enough time to get on leave, missions being back to back and Soap has the feeling he missed the point to tell Ghost he found the news articels about his families death. So they are on a flight to Manchester to vistet a graveyard. Great he really did something here. He looks out the window of the plane there are on. Only clouds and still 2 hours left till they are landing. Ghost is reading the book he bought at the airport but it dont really look like hes enjoying it. Soap start to bounce his legs, as hes getting nervous about 'seeing' Tommy for the first time since he joined the millitary. A hand is resting on his leg and Ghost gives him a questioning look.

"Nervous", he simply says and Ghost goes back to his book. Soap has to hold back a annoyed sound, Ghost is even more closed off then normal. Soap knows it is becasue he is sharing a gigantic part of his personal life that he likely never talks to anyone about. It also is not helping seeing Ghost in civilian clothes. wearing a surgial facemask, sunglasses and bennie to hide his identity as much as possible. Soap himslef is wearing a oversieceed hoodie to conceal how buff he is, just like Ghost. Two rows infront of them a couple is arguing louder and louder about a guy called Ryan. Soap never is somebody to ovehear other people problems, but these two are loud on a air plane and it is intressting and imbossible not to hear. At least more intressting then looking out the window on a flight. He flighs so much for work, so why is flying on leave so diffrent?

"Soap?", Ghost wisperes looking at him. Soap started to bounce his legs again.

"Bit nervous, don't know, guess not the same as flying for work." Soap tries to explain and Ghost clearly dont get it but nods anyway.

"Dont like the entertainment?" Ghost ask refering to the couple.

"Well I know more about this Ryan I ever wanted to know", Soap answers the question. Like really can't they fight in private?

"At least Ryan makes me cum something you can't do because you cant keep it up longer then 30 seconds." The woman says for the whole plane to hear and the two are sharing a look with the third person in the row. A very pregnant pause before the man is answering.

"Well it really hard to fuck somebody that sounds like a guinea-pig."

"The fuck", Ghost is wispering and Soap now has ro many questions in his head.

The fly of hell is finally over and they walk out the airport taking a taxi to the hotel they are staying in. They are silent and driver tried a conversation but Soap who usally chats off everybody ears said they had a rough flight and the driver understands. Soap as the more social person is handling checking in, while Ghost is checking out the lobby for potential threats. They have a room on the 10th floor at the very end of the hallway. Soap opens the door to a room with one queen bed. Ghost own nervousnes spikes at this. They can sleep in the same bed, no problem right? Soap is also nervous about the one bed, because his brain is hunted by Ghost and he's not sure if he will not do something dumb. They look at each other absolutely exhausted from the mission and the horrible flight.

"Window or door? "Ghost asks simply wanting to sleep.

"Window", Soap yawns his answer before dropping the bag on the couch. He watches Ghost who is reaching for a hiden knife hes not wearing because they flew civlian.

"We can buy a knife later", Soap jokes after Ghost is reaching for the next hiden knife. Ghost is turning towards him, giving him an angry look that is hiden behind the stupid sunglasses making Soap laught softly. He steps towards Ghost and removing his cover.

"The receptionist ask me if you are a star or something. Told her you are." Soap babbels a bit trying to not look directly into Ghost eyes. But he wants to look in these warm brown eyes.

"Maybe Im just ashamed to be see with you outsite of work and dont want to be reconiced." Ghost quips back, huffing amussed about it.

"Eejit" Ghost smiles amused at this, before ruffeling Soaps hair what is pissing the scot off even more. Ghost pulls off the mask and Soaps protest is stucked in his throat, holly shit dont freak out, stay calm, you saw his face before. More then ones by now.

"Get ready for a short rest, Sergeant", Ghost orders more as a joke but Soap follows his order with out thinking. Ghost chuckels, he didnt even use his Lieutant voice, ones a soilder always a soilder huh. Soap is pulling out some cloths out of his bag before disapearing in the bathroom. God damm it, he still needs to tell Soap that Tommy is dead.

Soap is closing the bathromm door, now is probably the time to tell Ghost he knows about the death of his family. He stripps out of the hoodie he actully Ghosts that got mixed up in the wasching and he never told Ghost. He dont even thinks Ghost knows that one of his black hoddies is missing. He keeps the T-shirt on and then strips out of the jeans, he for some reason chose to wear on a 4 hour flight. After putting on a pair of sweatpants, that are a littel to short on the legs and thigt for him now, but still good to sleep in. Splashing some water in his face before he picks up his cloths and leaves the bath room.

"Ghost", he says a bit unsure geting bouncy again wipping on his feet back and forth.

"You broke something?", Ghost asks confused by his behaivor.

"I... I know they are death and we will go to a graveyard", Soap shares his knowledge. Ghost is tillting his head looking like he is a bit more relaxed.

"Did you listen to one of these awfull potcasts?", Ghost just asks sounding tired. If they get even more out of hand he has to kill some of them.

"No, I saw the headlins of the news articles from when it happend. Didnt fell right to snoop further", Soap states and Ghost nods.

"Thanks Soap." Ghost says before he enters the bathroom. Soap drops down on his site of the bed and thinks about the thanks. A small word meaning a whole lot. Thanks for respecting them, thanks for not brining it up as soon as you learend, thanks for giving me the space to get ready to talk with you about it. A smile is apearing on Soaps face at this before he looks at his phone. Doing a quick search of techno clubs in Manchester. He can bring it up to Ghost later, about going to in a techno club in Tommys memories. He doesnt hear Ghost returning to the room, till the man is standing next to the bed.

"If you steal the blanket I will kick you out the bed." Ghost treatents him and Soap knows that this is not an empty one, being able to identfy Ghost modes by his voice alone by now.

"Well, then I still have the blanket", Soap points out grinning getting a anoyed sound from Ghost.

"3 hours enough?", Ghost ask being on his phone.

"Yes, Sir."

When Ghost is slowly being pulled out of sleep, he feels something heavy on his shoulder and chest. His instincts are imidiatly kicking in, pinning what ever is on his chest down into the bed. Reaching for the hidden knive that should be onder his pillow, to just not find one.

"God damit L.T.", a very familiar voice is complaining and Ghost need a few minutes to put one and one together. Right he is in a hotel in Manchester with Soap because they are visiting Tommys grave. So no knife under the pillow and Soap used him as a pillow. He gets of he Sergent mumbeling a sorry. Soap is revield that the weight on him is gone, but is know very aware on how hot his body thinks the whole situation was. Hes half hard and he his cheeks are red. Worst moment to learn something new about himself.

"You're heavy", Soap fake complains to play of how into he is in what happend.

"Need to eat more vegetables so you get big and strong." Ghost throws back and Soap nearly says something very dumb.

"I ate all my vegetables"; Soap stattes, a lie he only eat like 3 as a child, but all of them. So really a half lie.

"Com'on, Price will hate it if we get caught breaking into a graveyard."

The drive is short and Soap is a bit more chatty with the driver and Ghost just feels how all the conflicting feelings he always get when visiting the graves. He usally did break in, in the middel of the night, its more private and fits his mode better. The problem is that Soap is such an unknown factor in this visite. He thinks he now understands how Tommy felt when he intruduced Beth to his mother, he still made fun of his brother while being deployed at the time. Tommy absolutly give him the same shit now if they would be alive. He honestly would be a lot less nervous to introduce Soap to his living mother, because she would absolutly love Soap. Her not meeting him feels so wrong, its unfair one of the endless thinks that Roba is taking from him beyond the grave. Of course Soap notice him being even more closed of as usall checking in on him in the same silent way they do on missions. Ghost slowly nods unsure if he should not shake his head instead, Soap would understand and tell him they dont have to go there today. Deep down he knows he would find reasons for them not going here, he needs to remember this is not about him, its about Soap being able to say goodbye to Tommy. They reach the graveyard and get out, Ghost is not sure he will find the way when its not dark.

They need some time to find the grave site, Soap is polite enough to not comment on it. They are standing in front of it and Ghost feels himself locking all his emotions away. The only thing to stop him from fully disasociating is Soaps hand holding his.

"You think they would like me?", Soap asks sudenly knowing that his own family after some time would absolutly love Ghost.

"Without a doubt", Ghost answers tears starting to fill his eyes. It never felt like this. Its always this painfull emptyness and he never crys, so why now? Why now after so many years.

"You think I would be Josephs favourite uncle?", Sopa asks more as a joke to lighten up the mode a bit.

"Never." Ghost answers voice thin, holding back the tears as best as he could. Soap looks at Tommys name thinking really strong that he dont need to worry and he will look after Ghost for them now. He gives Ghost the time he needs, squising his hand and rubbing with his thumb over the knuckels of Ghost hands. They stand in silence for a moment till Soaps stomach growls loudly. He looks up at Ghost smilling unsure a font teary smile on Ghost face.

"Cant have my favourite Sergeant starve can I?", Ghost jokes getting a glare from Soap that screams eejit, but hes to respectfull to say it at the graves.

"I could eat", Soap agress after a while, his stomach doing funny things when he sees the amused smile on Ghost face. Hes so in love with Ghost its painfull sometimes. He also feels proud to make Ghsot smile when being here is clearly very hard for him. They are dancing around each other for months now and Soap is confident that Ghost feels the same about him, as he feels about Ghost. Ghost is using hth not intervient hand to lift Soaps chin up, and Soaps heart is ready to beating so fast it springs out his chest. Their first kiss on a graveyard, things that happen to you when you have a crush, no fall in love, with a guy everyone calls Ghost. Its a short kiss, before Ghost pulls him towards the exit.

Ghost leeds him to a hole in the wall italian restaurant, with amazing lasagna. Ghost is eating his spaghetti with a aioli sauce and shrimps. Not something he thought Ghost eats with his history of what he consinders food on a mission.

"This was moms favourite", Ghost says inbetween bites and Soap is not sure if he minds the restaurant or the dish. Nodding understanding, maybe its both.

"You always go here?" Soap asks leaving out the when you viste their graves and Ghost nods with a mouth full of pasta.

"Usally before." Soap frowns at this, slowly conecting the dots, leting out a painful sigh, of course Ghost vistes the graves in the middel of the night. Ghost shrugs at him, whos there to judge him before. Besites the dead but they keeped ther opinon to themselves.

"You want to go to a rave?", Soap asks feeling there is now good time to ask the question, but a restaurante is better then next to the graves. Ghost is chewing his pasta thinking about it.

"To honor his memory?", he asks and Soap nods mouth full of lasagna. "You already have a place dont you?" Soap smiles at this, trying to look innocent. Ghost should have known but he also has no reason why they should not go. Soaps lucky Ghost likes him and has no knife with him. Every other person would get stabbed.

"No talk to dubios people", Ghost warns him and Soap is pointing his forke full of food towards him.

"I can protect myself now." Getting a 'are you sure about that' look from Ghost, have saved Soaps life numerous times now, by simply watching his six. "Eejit."

Ghost is ones more reminded he absolutly hates techno and only listens to it when he misses Tommy really badly. Atleast Soap dont forces him on the dance floor, yet. He has the felling Soap absolutly wants to dance with him at some point. Well, if he looks at the crowed wipping from site to site with your arms up and jumping from time to time is something he can do. Watching their drinks, looking grumpy and keeping an eye on Soap nothing changed since he and Tommy became friends, well minus dealers. Atleast he hopes so, for the dealers sake, because whatever Soap does not do to them he absolutly will.

"Eh, exuse me?", a high pitched voice is screaming a question to him over the music and 3 teenager girls are standing next to him. He raises a eyebrow trying to figure out if they are even old enough to be here.

"Yes?", he acknowledegs them two hiding behind the girl that talked to him.

"Can you watch our drinks, we want to dance and.. ehh", the girl stammers also losing her courage the longer he stares at them.

"Sure" Ghost agress, three more glasses are really not a problem. The girl gives him a big smile that reminds him of Joseph. He lets it not affect his mood, honestly the three are very smart for asking somebody like him.

"Thank you." With that three glasses are palced on the table Ghost is claiming as his own and the girls are disapearing on the dance floor. He dont sees Soap or the girls for at least an hour, when Soap is getting out of the crowd. Smilling at him, not even minding Ghost is not dancing with him.

"Had fun?", Ghost asks him and Soap nods, before taking a sip from the now warm beer. Before he points to the three glasses that where not here when he left Ghost alone.

"Looking at them for somebody", Ghost explains and Soap gives him a puzzelt look. Who in their right mind would ask Ghost to watch their drink with the aura hes radiating? Must be some brave souls. Soap looks at Ghost, with the lights its not that easy, but hes pretty sure Ghost reached his limit to be here. So he trys to finishes hes beer quickly till the people that asked Ghost to look after them come back si they can leave soon after. Ten minutes later the first girl is coming out the crowd, shortly followed by the other two. Soap watches them, smillling at them while they look betwenn the two. The girl that askes him is still trying to figure out how their relationship, while sipping her drink.

"So you two are... like dating?", the girl asks after a while looking at Ghost for an answer.

"We're thinking about it", Ghost gives a vague enough answer. The girl nods at this still looking inbetwenn the two.

"Celine, thats non of our buisness", one of the other girls warns her. Celine is shrugging at that, she askes a harmless question. The third girl is looking at her phone, eyes wide and hands shaking.

"Lilly?", the still nameless girls asks her. Lilly is mouthing mom. Soap and Ghost give each other a look. Clearly both asking themsleves if the girls are atleast 18.

"Your mom is calling?", Celine asks finishing the rest of her drink in one big gulp. Lilly is mouthing facetime. Looks like these three are in trouble. Celine looks at the two soilders smilling.

"Hope you figure it out, we have to go and thanks again." With that the three girls disapearing towards the next exit. Soap chuckels at this, he dont even know how often Tommy and him ended up in a similar situation.

"We're thinking about it huh?", Soap says after a he finished his beer. Getting a 'watch what your saying' look from Ghost. Really Soap has no buisness saying anything about this, he send drunk expliced text and voice messages to his CO. Soap finsihes the last bit of beer in his bottel and the moment he palced it down on hte table, Ghost is leaning in close to his ear.

"Pretty sure when I look there is a message on my phone of you telling me something about my dick in your ass. So what else should i have answered because a simple coworkers is not covering it." Soaps feels his face flushing, and hes lucky Ghost is so close to his ear he cant see the rest of his face. Jesus why does Ghost have to bring that up now? Soap is opening and closing his mouth no words leaving it.

"Cat got your tounge? Johnny?", Ghost asks smugly knowing he is crossing some wires in Soaps brain.

"So does that mean you want to fuck?", Soaps asks a bit unsure where this is leading.

"You still want to ride my dick badly?" Ghost simply asks back as if hes asking is water wet, before kissing Soaps cheek. The heat on Soaps face is burning stronger, oh god, yes.

"Yes." Soap answers after his brain needs a bit to long to figure out how speaking works.

"Lets get out of here."

Ghost has no idea how they got back to the hotel room at all, but they both pulled the other at some part of the way both eager to go bak to the room. The moment the door is closed he pressing Soap against a wall, kissing him, how he wants to for a while now. Feeling how Soaps arms are closing around his shoulders.

"You know these voice messages you sent me? You fucking tease, drove me insane and ever since I plan to get these noices out of you", Ghost wispers against Soaps lips, felling how Soaps breath is hitching at this. Picking up the Sergeant like he weights nothing to put him on the bed, stepping back a few steps. Looking at his meal, his delicous meal. The red cheeks, the way Soap licks over his lips, the confident smile, that he ever thought they would not end up at this point. In the end he has to be honest with himself, Soaps text just speed up what would have happend sonner or later.

"Just looking? Sir?", Soap asks sitting up to watch what Ghost is doing. Looking the other man up and down, stoping a bit longer at the bulche of Ghost dick and damm it does look big. Ghost walks towards the bed, getting out of the black shirt he wore at the club. Soap is smillig cocky at him, before opening his legs a bit wider so that Ghost can fit in between them better. Ghost leans down to kiss him again using his hands to pin Soaps thighs down. They kiss for a while till Soap makes a annoyed whine, needing some fiction at his dick.

"So impatient", Ghost huffes at this before removing the shirt from Soap. Wanting to respond but Ghost is kissing him breathless. Soap uses his hands to roam over Ghost back, trying to not linger on the scars to much. Scratching down Ghost spine when he grows inpatient again. His pants are uncomfortable thight and need to get them off. Ghost smiles against his lips, before he sits up and his hands fly towards Sopas belt.

"Si..mon", Soap moans a complaint, when Ghost is rubbing over his dick to tease him a but more.

"Patience Johnny, I waited for monthes to get here, you can wait a few more minutes", Ghost chuckels opening Soaps sipper.

"I rather get fucked by you for a few more minutes", Soap answers shoving his pants and underwear down.

"I think we can have both." Soap thinks about flipping Ghost of for this, but a hand is around his dick. Ghost smears the pre cum with his thumb, before licking the finger clean, keeping eye contact with Soap, holding the others chin so he cant look away if he wanted to, but Soap dont want to. Then Ghost stands up, to get to his bag and leavin the scit to make a frustrated noice.

"Catch." With that a full bottel of lube, Soap has no idea when Ghost bought that, is flying towards him and a few condoms. Ghost smiles pleased at Soap confused look. While Ghost returns to the bed, Soap is opening the bottel. Squezing a good amount on Ghost holt out hand. Ghost warms up the lube, while John is turning around for easier access. Ghost spreads the lube, around Soaps hole before, he pushes the first finger in. He takes his time, always waiting for a impaient sound from Soap before he continues the preparation.

"Its good, focus on your legs at the moment", Ghost says into the room, after a while to rail Soap up a bit more.

"Si", Soap complains wanting to get to the main programm.

"Just a littel more or your into a bit of pain with your pleasure?" The moan that Soap is making is not really helping to understand what he wants.

"Words, Johnny." Everytime Soap trys to answer Ghost is rubbing over his prostate.

"Si, just get your dick out", Soap gets the words out, hes sure Ghost would have the patient to make him cum with his fingers only. The other is reaching for one of the condoms as asked, before he gets out his pants and boxers, only now realising how uncomfortable his pants gotten to engaged with getting Soap ready and rilled up. Soap turns around and gulps a bit, shit Ghost is big. Maybe he should just have waited till Ghost thinks hes ready, but well he wont back down, just going slow. He strandels Ghost lap, kissing him to get his nerves a bit down. Still not believing this is happening. Ghost is leaning back pulling the scot with him, till his back hits the sheets. Roaming his hands greedly over all of the skin he can reach till he rests them on Soaps waiste. Soap pulls back, feeling for the condom Ghost dropped somewhere on the bed. He finds it and looks at the foile for the size, getting a smug grin from Ghost. He takes place in between Ghost legs, so he sees what hes doing, with the condom and beause he wants to play with Ghost dick for a bit. Like Ghost earlier he uses his thumb to get gather pre cum at the tip and licks it of his finger, before he rolls the condom down, with one smooth motion realising, he barly can close his hand a round the grith. He swallows, this is probably the bigest dick he ever had. He takes the lube Ghost is holding out for him, before he lubes up Ghost dick, being more generous then he normaly would be. He gets in position and Ghost hands return to his waist. He sinks down slowly, feeling the stretch and how Ghost is also making sure he dont goes down to fast with all the impaients he shown earlier.

"Fuck", Soap courses when hes halfway down, deffentitly the biggest he ever had. "You're fucking big, Si." Ghost is rubbing circels in his skin, watching how he slowly disapears in Soap.

"Taking it so well", Ghost purrs some praise and Soap invoulentary sinks down a few more inches. Moaning when the tip is rubbing along his prostate. Precum drolling out of Soaps dick at this. Soap wiggels a bit from site to site as a test and the grith is so big theres no way it wont rub along his prostate the whole time.

"And is it the best ass your dick was ever in?", Soap jokes before going down a bit further. Ghost chuckels at this shacking his head.

"Had worse", Ghost simply states pushing Soap down a bit further, making the scot drow his head back. "So thats the best dick you ever had up your ass?"

Soap laughts at this, he should have known that Ghost would throw the question right back at him.

"Top 3 worthy", Soap admits and slightly challenges Ghost, before he sinks down the rest of Ghosts cock. They both are panting and Soap needs a while to get used to how full he feels, finally putting his hands on the others man chest. Soap starts slow, barely lifting himself up, before he goes down again a constant flow of pre cum leaking out of him, with every moment, oh this will be a amazing orgasm when he gets there. Ghost hands wander down to his hips, possesivly holding him. He will wake up with two hansprints on his hip. Slowly working himself up to a rythem that is not to over stimulating for him. He looks down at Ghost whos eyes are half closed, mesmericed by what Soap is doing to him, his lips are sligtly open and hes smilling. Soap cant stop feeling proud about this. He does this to the Ghost most feared asset of the SAS. Hands wander down his legs and Ghost is pushing his knees further apart changing the angle, causing his dick to push more against Soaps prostate.

Ghost is not sure how long he just watches, but he feels that Soaps thighs are shaking by now from the work the scot is putting into ridding him. He swattes Soap hand away when he try to reach for his dick.

"Si?", Soap pants, barely abel to take it much longer.

"Pretty sure the best dick you ever had is enough to make you come untouched, Johnny", Ghost states, loving the distressed sound Soap is making. He knows the other is at his limit, about to burst, but a selfish part of him, wants, no needs Soap to come only one his dick.

"Simon, please" Soaps desperation is such a turn on for Ghost, he wants the scot to go for longer. On the other hand he said please and how is he supossed to not give in. He uses one of the moves they use in training to flip them over, using all his weight to press Soap down on the matress. Soap trys to push himself up, but Ghost is increasing the weight on the other to keep him down.

"As much as I enjoyed the view I had." He feels Soap shivering at this, seeing the scot clawing the sheets. "I rather fuck you like I want to now."

Ghost goes deep and slow feeling every shiver Soap is making, his moans muffelt by the pillow. Soap is starting to squirm under him, the worse the overstimulation gets.

"Si, please", Soap sobs in the pillow its getting to much.

"Its easy Johnny, you just come from my dick and its over", Ghost explains directly in Soaps ear.

"I never", Soap whines and shit, now Ghost wants to be the first so bad, he wants to ruine Soap for everybody else, claiming the spot of Soaps best fuck ever making sure nobody will ever be better then him.

"You can do it", Ghost encurages him. Going a bit faster, and the moan from Soap is barely muffeld by the pillow. Soap feels himself starting to cry, with how overwhelming this is getting.

"Come for me", Ghost oders him and that somehow what he needs. His vison goes white, while is dick is exploding making an absolute mess on the sheets.

Ghost gets in a few more trust in to Soap before the comes in as well. Soap going limb under him. He pulls out carefully goes into the bath room throwing the condom away, before he gets a towl wet, to clean Soap up. He carefully moves Soap checking in on him, wipping the tears away, he needs to aks about them later. Wipping the cum from Soap and the bed, before the returns the towel to the bath room and drinks some water before he fills up a glass for Soap.

It takes Soap sometime to get back in the world of the living, felling a hand rubbing along his spine. He makes a sound blinking his eyes open. His head resting on Ghost chest.

"Si?", he slurrs his words confused. Feeling a kiss to the top of his head. Hes not sure if Ghost is saying something to him, but slowly he starts to feel he fabric of the sheets and the warmth of Ghost body. The next think he feels, is that is left shoulder hurts for some reason. He lifts his head, blinking at Ghost whos having a smug yet somehow pleased smile on his face.

"Si?", Soap says a lot clearer now and a glass is coming in his field of few. With the help of Ghost he drinks all of it.

"Did you bite me?", Soap asks and Ghost smiles apologetic at him.

"Yeah, when i came to not be to loud", Ghost admits.

"Fucking animal."

"No i would have fucked you diffrent, if i wanted to fuck you like a animal." Soap weekly slaps Ghosts chest.

"You never gonna get rid of me if you fuck me this good every time." Ghost kisses his forehead at this. As if he wouldn't keep Soap to himself.

"Did I hurt you, you cryed." Soap needs some times to get enough braincells working.

"No, a bit to much, because somebodies ego needed me to come with out my dick touched." Ghost kisses him, being absolutely pleased with himself.

"Dont worry I will only do it when we have the time for it." Soap looks up at him, yawning noding along.

"That sounds good, Si", Soap yawns out while fighting his eyes to stay open a bit longer.

"Sleep love", Ghost is wispering in his hair, before alowing himslef to also fall asleep.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #john soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #call of duty mw3 #cod mw3 #cod mw2

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oddballwriter · 10 months

Text

Plus One to make a Sour One

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Summary: You and your old high school friends made a promise to go at each other's weddings, which you all keep. Regardless of the passing of time and what it brings. However, one out of place friend doesn't like that you've moved into find someone that you plan to have in your future.

Warnings: Female reader and is referred to using she/her. Mentions of jealousy and unrequited love (not between you and the boys). Mentions of marriage. Marc being called "second hand" by another person. Reference to Layla and Marc's divorce (she and the divorce are not an actual issue, she's just mentioned off handedly (I would never make her an issue <3)). There's a character in here who is a fucking dick and makes rude comments. This does take place after the show but there's no mentions of MoonKnight work. The boys are still a system but this is Marc centric. Jake does talk once though. "Y/N" is used four times. It is also mentioned that there is an age gap between you and Marc, with Marc barely in his 40's and reader being in their late 30's.

Author’s Snip: Don't know what this was or why I wrote it. I just had it in my mind and wanted to write it.

Notes: The girls in your friend group are supportive as hell about you and Marc. Also the character Ben has a mix of Ken and Allan energy but in an aggressive way because he's just... there... just for the plot.

Work count: 1730

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

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In your high school years, which were admittedly a good way behind you, you made a promise to each other. To go to each other's weddings no matter what.

Kaylani was the first to make that promise be kept by getting married a few years back and like promised, everyone managed to make it. In your group there was, as mentioned, Kaylani, Susie, Sydney, Gabby, you, and the only boy in your group, Ben. Or Benny, as you all called him. It was nice to see each other again and catch up since it had been so long and you had done your own things after graduation. For example you had gone on to study and even traveled abroad to do so, which ended up having you meet your now boyfriends Marc, Steven, and Jake. Though you did think that it was just Marc at the time, but hey, no one ever complains about a three for the price of one deal.

However, at the time of Kay’s wedding you just started getting used to all of them. So when the topic of if everyone else had a certain someone already, you just answered that you were seeing someone. Unfortunately in a room full of people you knew since braces, they asked for more. To which all they got was the details of his name being Marc, he was older, and that you met while you were living in London for your studies. You knew that that wasn’t a whole lot and that they would want to hear more, but they didn’t want to pressure you into saying more than you wanted. Though they did like the mystery of this man that you had back home.

Now the time has gone by and the system has become a regular part of your life and now live together in a new place with a fresh new start close to where you're from. Which was perfect considering the call you just got done having.

“Congratulations again, Gabby! I can’t wait to see you!” you cheer into your phone before saying goodbye to your soon to me wedded friend. “What was all the squealing about?” Marc says as he walks into the living room where you are. “That was one of my friends, Gabby, from high school. She’s getting married in the Fall season.” you answer. “Oh, Miss Homecoming Candidate.” Marc commented as he sat down in his arm chair. “No. Kaylani’s Miss Homecoming Candidate. Gabby’s-” you correct, “The blonde one, right.” Marc says correcting himself in the middle of your sentence, that wasn’t it either. “No. No,” you giggle. “Sydney’s the blonde one. Gabby’s ginger. And also Gabby was the Captain of the Girl’s Tennis team.” you clarify. “Jeez. I really can’t remember anything about what you tell me.” Marc jokes. “How about Bridget? Wasn’t there a Bridget or is it another name with a B?” Marc tests.

“It’s Benny.” you answer. “He was the only boy in our group.” you admit. “Okay, get me a picture because I don’t remember any of these people.” Marc requested as he sat forward in his seat. “Because you never met them, dingus.” you chuckle as you go looking for any picture you had saved.

You spent a while showing Marc the various pictures of you and your friends while back in your teenage years, which looked as dated as you think they would, and pointing to who’s who. Of course it was easy to point out Ben since he was the only boy that would ever be in your friend group photos. At some point you get to prom pictures where you and Benny are seen in one of those prom couple photos.

“You two went to prom?” Marc spoke. “We all did. But we all were meant to be a posse and go as a group of friends.” you remark, “But all the other girls got dates and I was the only one who didn’t so Benny asked to be mine so that I wasn’t the only one without one.” you explain. “That was nice of him.” Marc replied before changing his attention to a nearby reflection and muttering “Shut up.” under his breath. You knew that meant one of the others said something so you asked who it was and what they said. “Jake’s saying that maybe Ben was trying to “get lucky” or something.” Marc answered. You laughed at the comment and denied it. You knew Ben wasn’t that kind of a guy. But you always had the sneaky suspicion that Ben did always like you.

-------------------------------------------

Marc knew he’d be your plus one at the wedding as soon as you started telling him the difference between the girls and also letting it slip that you wanted him to be when he commented that Gabby had a metal mouth and you said “Don’t tell her that.”. He didn’t mind. Maybe he’d feel a bit out of place but he’s worked on handling foreign situations and had a balance with Steven and Jake, so they wouldn’t end up fronting during the wedding.

Gabby had her ceremony and reception at this little gallery in your home town that was actually really cute and fit everyone invited from both her invites and her now husband’s. As the bridesmaids, and bridesman, you all got to sit at the table closest to the newly weds during the dinner. To say that the girls were hyper fixated on Marc was a bit of an understatement. They asked all about him. What he did, how you met, what he was into. And anytime he said something about himself that would be considered attractive someone would sneak a look at you and wiggle their eyebrows. All the while Ben was silent.

After dinner was of course cocktail hour while the coordinators rearranged the room to be better fit for the actual party. Sydney and Kaylani, along with Ben, managed to steal you away to talk more, and Susie opted to talk to and learn more about Marc. You sort of knew what they were doing, when Gabby brought her then boyfriend, now husband, to Kay’s wedding you separated them to see if there was a future marriage on the way.

“So, Marc.” Sydney said as he took a sip of her cocktail, “Is it going anywhere with you two?” she spoke after finishing. You sighed. “We’re cohabitating right now.” you admit. “It’s not that he hates the idea of getting married. He’s just had a… strange and rocky path with it in the past and he’s taking his time getting over it.” you clarify before mouthing “He’s once divorced.”. The girls nod in understanding before Ben speaks up, “So he’s second hand?” is what comes out of him in an almost slightly negative tone that doesn’t even make it sound like he’s hesitant to say it. One of the girls flicks him on the arm and scolds him with a “Ben!”. You take a moment to gather yourself from hearing that.

“Let’s not put it that way. He’s not an object.” you nervously continue. “It’s not like he’s battered from it. I’ve met his ex wife and she’s a lovely woman. They just had their own issues and figured that it was best they figure it out alone.” you say. “And there’s no shame in that.” Kay speaks up, to which almost everyone nods. “How old is he again?” Ben asks, seemingly dropping the tone and changing the subject. “Well. He’s older, like I said. But if you need to know he’s barely in his forties.” you confess. “He’s more past me, sure, but I’m almost in my late thirties. So it’s not that much.” you justify, to which the group takes into acceptance. “You have always liked older men, I guess.” Ben replies.

Meanwhile with Susie and Marc, the talk has gone from him to something else. “Okay. So,” she manages to roll out of her mouth while spinning her now empty glass, “You might have noticed Benny.” she says. “I know of him, yes. He was at our table and I was told about him.” Marc verifies. “I’ll come clean with you, Marc. I think you and Y/N are great for each other. There’s clearly so much between you and if you asked the girls, you’d have all of our blessings to your relationship.” she stated. “Lemme guess. Not Benny’s, huh?” Marc chimed in. Susie gave him a firm head shake and said “No.”. Susie fixed her casual posture to a more serious one, which Marc knew meant that she was going to talk about some drama.

“Marc. I’ve seen a lot of men,” Susie claimed, “In general.” she added, “And I know that men can hold their hearts out for literally nothing if they think that something is there to take it or if there’s a glimmer of hope that something will.” she explains. “Ben is one of those men.” Susie confirms. “He’s been holding it out for Y/N since he became part of our group. He wasn’t an obvious sucker back then. But once she told us about her seeing someone back at Kaylani’s wedding,” she says while pointing at him when she said ‘someone’, “He was all sappy and sad. It was honestly pathetic”.

“So what? Is he going to try and win her over?” Marc scoffs. “Hell no!” Susie exclaims, “You got everything on Y/N’s checklist. You’re charming, aged, you have some ruggedness to you, and I’m willing to bet you have more." she lists off. “And Benny’s 100% butthurt about it.” Susie jokes at her friend’s expense. “And you’re telling me all of this…?” Marc questions as he looked at Susie to have her answer why. “In case you two have your own wedding party and you get looked at funny by Ben if he’d even show up at all.” Susie remarked. “I’m sure I can handle some dirty looks from a guy who my girlfriend went to the high school prom with as a means to not be the person without a date.” Marc chuckled. “I might dance with her all night just to rub it in his face a little.” Marc comments.

“Well, the song they danced to at prom just so happens to be on the playlist for tonight.” Susie mentions.

#moon knight #moonknight #moonknight x reader #moon knight x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader

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