in-a-daddy-state-of-mind

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

The Devil in Disguise || Part II

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader

Summary: After months of dancing around each other, Eddie and you finally go on a date

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: SMUT, both Eddie and reader at 18+ in this, mentions of suicide attempt, let me know if you catch anything else

Notes: This is is a two parter but can be read as a stand alone. If you want to read PART I, it also accompanies it. There are references to both The Breakfast Club and Hair in this but you should be able to get it even if you are not familiar with those. Still highly recommend them if you haven’t come across it before. As always feedback and interactions are highly appreciated.

Your date with Eddie started with you two picking up to-go burgers and shakes at the local burger joint and driving to Family Video to get into an argument about what to rent out as Steve rolled his eyes behind the counter.

“I just cannot believe you’ve never watched The Breakfast Club!” You say to him as you pick the VHS from the shelf.

“I’m not watching that John Hughes crap. Not sure if you’ve looked at me, sweetheart, but I’m not exactly the rom com type of guy.” Eddie shoots back waving a copy of Nightmare on Elm Street in front of your face.

“This isn’t rom com.” You say as you swat his hand away.

“It has Molly Ringwald in it. It’s rom com.”

“It isn’t! It’s about the teenage experience. Trust me there’s this character in it that is absolutely you.”

With a deep sigh Eddie mutters a fine under his breath and heads towards the counter with the tape on hand.

“You finally stopped bickering?” Steve says taking the tape from Eddie’s hand “Ah, she’s forcing you to watch it too, huh?”

“You made him go through this also?” Eddie questions looking at you nod.

“Hey, what can I say, man? It’s a good movie.” Steve admits while working the register.

“You gotta be kidding me, Harrington.”

“Turns out the guy knows his shit! They kind of nailed me down perfectly in this one.” Steve argues giving you back the tape.

“See?!” You say triumphantly.

Eddie just grabs the tape from Steve’s hand and heads towards the door.

“You’re the best Andrew I know!” You scream to Steve before leaving the store and heading to Eddie’s van.

The evening went better than you could have expected. Once you made it to the trailer that was at this point well known to you, you two put on the movie and each devoured their own burgers. Once you were done with dinner Eddie sheepishly put his arm around you and brought you closer to him.

“Is this okay?” He asked with uncertainty in his tone.

“It’s perfect.”

The way you looked at him would make any man lose his damn mind. It was like he was your entire world and you could tell him that with just your eyes. Your pretty, wonderful, deep eyes.

Every second he had you in his arms and you cuddled closer to him Eddie cursed himself for not doing this sooner. You made him feel warm in a way no one had ever done before. Fuck was he in trouble with you.

Soon enough Don’t Forget About Me was echoing in the trailer walls and the credits rolled over the image of Judd Nelson waving his fist in the air. You looked at Eddie expectantly as he just stared ahead into the screen not saying a word.

“I stand corrected. That was a really fucking good movie.”

“I TOLD YOU SO!” You yelled in victory.

“They kind of nailed me down in one with Bender. I mean white trash problem child who’s kind of metal?”

“Absolutely. You. What did I say?” You emphatically said almost vibrating in the couch as Eddie laughed.

“Well, I’m not the only one, princess. They got you pretty good with Claire.”

As soon as Eddie said that you almost fell over into the couch with disbelief. Maybe an exaggerated reaction but, hey, you were a theatre kid after all.

“You think I’m Claire?” You ask voice dripping with judgement.

“Hm, yeah. Prissy little popular girl who has a thing for the bad boy.” Eddie replied as if it was obvious motioning towards himself.

“YOU THINK I’M POPULAR? Eddie, I’m friends with the theatre and band kids. Popular and me do not go in the same sentence.”

“Oh please, you’re best friends with Steve “The Hair” Harrington. Might I remind you he used to rule Hawkins High?”

“Only because Steve and I have been friends since we were kids! He would not have given me the time of day had we met in high school.” You said giving a brief pause before realizing “Also you fucked Steve Harrington!”

“And you fucked Billy Hargrove!” Eddie shoots back immediately.

“EVERYONE fucked Billy. If we are using that as a measure of popularity half of the student body would be popular.” You say exasperated as Eddie laughs and whispers a “that’s true” under his breath “Point is: I am DEFINITELY not popular. The only people below me in social status happens to be you and my brother.”

“Ouch! I’m wounded!” Eddie exclaims dramatically faking hurt.

You two laugh together for a second before Eddie speaks up again.

“Okay, who are you then?”

“Brian.” You say casually “Makes sense doesn’t it? Little preppy nerd who has way too much pressure on them. Doesn’t really know how to handle it. Kind of just wants to start smoking weed with the cool kids and say fuck it to it all.”

“Yeah, after he tries to shoot himself.” Eddie points out staring at you concerned.

“Yeah.”

Silence falls over you both for a second as your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach. Goddamn you shouldn’t have said anything. That was so fucking stupid. What are you doing?

“Hey, come on. Date’s not over yet.” Eddie says pulling you away from your panic.

He grabs your hand pulling you from the couch and grabs a blanket in his other arm. You follow behind him as he guides you both out of the trailer and chucks the blanket on top of it. He once again guides you to a small ladder perched on the top of the trailer gently helping you climb to the top of the trailer before doing it himself.

Once you are both on the top of the mobile home, Eddie extends the blanket on the ground and lays on it motioning for you to cuddle next to him which you gladly do. You two stay like that staring up at the sky in silence for a second.

Your mind is still racing. You don’t know what to say. This is always your problem, you open up too easily to people and you run your mouth. You don’t know when to shut up so you spill out something that makes people uncomfortable and they never want to talk to you. Just when things were going right with Eddie you had to fucking ruin-

“I kind of lied to you, you know?” Eddie says once again pulling you away from your thoughts almost as if he could see you spiraling.

“What?”

“When I said I only remembered you from English class and being Henderson’s sister? I lied. I was way too embarrassed to admit the truth.”

“Which was?” You prod gently not wanting to push him too much.

“I actually saw you in the school musical last year. I went because of some extra credit or some shit when I was still hoping I would be able to graduate that year. I was not excited at all, I thought I was going to hate it, but then you guys all came out in those fucking hippie outfits-“

“Yeah, we were doing Hair.” You interrupted.

“I know! I was there! Can you let me finish the story? Jesus, you and your brother are the same.” Eddie commented making you chuckle.

“Anyway, as I was saying, musical was weird as shit but also kind of badass? And then you came out in that fucking solo? And god you killed it. You have a beautiful fucking voice and I was completely enchanted.”

Eddie pauses and turns to look over at you. That look he gives you… You log it in your brain to make sure you would never forget the way Eddie Munson’s eyes looked right then.

“I should have asked you out then, but you know, it’s already established I’m a coward.” He said quietly.

You didn’t know what to say. Your anxiety was somehow completely forgotten and the only thing on your mind was how you had been on Eddie Munson’s radar for a whole year and you were missing out.

“Would it be too bold of me to ask if you kiss on the first date?” You blurted out almost against your better judgment.

Eddie opened a smile at that not believing his luck.

“It absolutely wouldn’t.”

Before you could even react Eddie’s lips were on you and you were soaring. His lips were soft and he was very careful at first before you kissed back. In what it seemed like a second you were melting into each other as if you were both made for this. Your hands found its way into his hair and his to your waist grabbing onto you like his life depended on it. You felt his tongue graze your bottom lips as you tried to get as close to him as possible flushing your body against his. You lightly pulled at Eddie’s bottom lip with your teeth and he immediately pulls away from you.

“Fuck, sweetheart, we have to stop.” He says immediately still not taking his hands away from your waist.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask your voice dripping with worry.

“God, no. You did everything very much right, it’s just that if we keep going I will not be able to hold myself back and I do not want to fuck you the first time we go out together.” Eddie admits seeing your face turn bright red at his confession. “You deserve better than that.”

“Okay.” You respond sheepishly. “Does that mean you want to go out with me more times?”

Eddie breaks into a laugh. You would absolutely be the death of him.

“Yeah. I would love that.” He replies unable to hold himself before planting another kiss on your lips.

You had been going out with Eddie for a while now when you show up to the front of the trailer knocking on his door excitedly. Thankfully Eddie was there and came to the door.

“I have a gift for you.” You announced as soon as the door opened.

“Lucky me. What is it?”

You happily take a cassette tape sized package from behind your back and present it to him. Eddie takes it and tries to unwrap it as carefully as possible before giving up and just tearing it open. And there it is: a cassette tape for the musical Hair.

“You know you said that’s where you first met me so when I saw it at the store I just thought I had to get it for you-“

Eddie interrupted you by drawing your lips together in a sweet kiss. People didn’t give him gifts. He never had someone he was romantically interested in do this to him and the fact you did made his heart flutter. To think you would think of him at the record store… The emotions that arose in Eddie were hard for him to describe.

“I love it. Thank you.” He finally said breaking the kiss. “Would you perhaps like to come inside and listen to it together?”

You accepted and made your way into the familiar trailer and to Eddie’s room. That’s when your pulse picked up. You had been alone with Eddie multiple times at this point but never fully alone. And in his room. It’s not that you didn’t want anything to happen. On the contrary you very much wanted it. Maybe a bit too much.

He moved to the cassette player and imputed the new tape. Once Eddie turned he saw you awkwardly standing in the middle of the room like a deer in headlights.

“Are you okay?” He asked worriedly.

“Yeah! Totally!”

You didn’t sound very convincing but he decided not to push on it. Eddie guided you to sit on his bed. At first you were sitting fully straight with your muscles clenched, but by the time that Hashish came on you were already laying down next to Eddie mumbling the songs along. No one made you feel more at home than the men laying next to you. Kind of like magic he managed to break through all your defenses and just made you feel at ease without even needing to pull out his “product” as he liked to call it.

The two of you laid on the bed and sang to each other. Eddie didn’t know the songs so he would dramatically mouth some of them to you making you laugh. You had to be honest with yourself you were falling hopelessly in love with him. This metalhead that nonetheless was happy to just be with you and listen to show tunes of all things.

That was when I Believe in Love came on. It was your song so you gladly sang along to the whole thing still knowing the lyrics from when you performed it at school. Differently from the other ones where Eddie would mumble along or try to do a bit he was almost eerily quiet while you did. The song came to an end and you were anxious to know if you had messed up and come across as a show-off. However, you didn’t have much time to wallow in your anxiety before Eddie was desperately attacking your lips.

“God, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” He said between kisses continuing to devour your lips.

Eddie kissed you like a man starved. Fuck, if singing was all you needed to do to get this reaction you would have done it sooner. Before you could even realize it Eddie was laying on top of you and a moan from deep inside you made its way to your shared lips. He immediately stopped and the usual anxiety creeped up on you.

“Sweetheart, I need you to let me know if this is what you really want because I am so horny right now and I will not be able to stop if we keep going.” Eddie said in a horse voice that immediately got to you.

“This is exactly what I want.” You let out without needing a moment to think.

With the permission, Eddie immediately begins attacking your neck, sucking and biting only to alleviate it with his tongue. You grab onto his shoulders as if you were clinging for your life and it elicits a deep groan from Eddie. This man would be the death of you. He quickly grabs the bottom of your shirt and yanks it off of you throwing it to a corner of the room only to be found later. You follow his lead doing the same and you both take a moment to admire each other’s body. It wasn’t like Eddie had a six pack but fuck was he fit. And the tattoos spread around his torso were simply enchanting. You wanted to touch every part of him with your lips.

You didn’t have much more time to think before Eddie was yanking the rest of your clothes off leaving you bare for him to see. He stopped for a minute just admiring your body.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m not like a model or anything.” You immediately say trying to make up for what you think is a less than ideal body you inhabit.

“None of that shit coming from you. Your body is fucking beautiful, babe. I could sit here and just look at you all day.” Eddie replies back making you open a smile.

The moment is short lived before he proceeds to kiss down your neck and make his way to your tits. He immediately sucks on your left breast playing with the other in his hands. God fucking damn it, why was this so good? You had had experience before but if this was going to continue this way, you were sure Eddie would soon become the best lay you ever had.

After giving your breasts enough attention, Eddie continued his path down your stomach until he finally reached your hip bone and stopped looking up at you with an almost wicked smile.

“Last chance, baby girl, are we doing this?” He asks looking at you expectantly.

You can only nod at him, not trusting yourself with words at the moment.

“Great, because I have been dreaming about tasting your pussy.” Is the last thing Eddie says before wrapping his lips around your clit and deliciously sucking on it.

You can feel Eddies tongue against your most intimate parts and you have to wonder how he got this good at it. The sounds of him eating you out fill the room only battling with your own moans to dominate the quiet environment of the trailer. You grip the sheets desperately as Eddie’s tongue makes it’s way inside you, beautifully alternating between sucking on your clit and licking into your cunt.

“Fuck, Eddie, right there.” You almost scream as he hits a sensitive spot in you that makes you almost see stars.

The coil in your lower stomach begins to tighten in a sentiment familiar to you but unfortunately unusual in your encounters with men. As Eddie continues what could only be described as devouring your pussy, you feel the damn break and your orgasm rips through you as you let out a particularly loud moan.

“Damn, sweetheart, you’re going to wake up the entire trailer park like that.” Eddie says lifting himself up with the evidence of your arousal on his cheeks.

You notice he didn’t reprimand you for the screaming. On the contrary, he seemed almost proud of it. Proud of the way he could make you feel. This man would be the death of you.

“Fuck, Eds, that was-“ You begin saying but are quickly interrupted by Eddie’s lips crashing against yours once again.

“Was?” He questions as he breaks away from you. “You didn’t think we were done did you?”

You look into his eyes and you see a ferocity in them you had never witnessed in Eddie before.

“No, sweetheart, this doesn’t end until I am ramming into you and you are cumming on my cock.”

With that Eddie pulled his cock out of his pants and you only had a brief moment to appreciate it before he was plunging into you. You both moan together at the feeling of Eddie stretching you. He briefly stops to adjust himself inside you.

“Jesus, Henderson, you are so tight.” He says almost sounding out of breath.

“And you are huge, Munson. So I guess we’re even.” You quip back almost unable to believe you could both joke at a moment like this. Yet this is what made the two of you so great together.

Slowly, Eddie began thrusting into you. He increased the pace with each thrust moaning right next to your ear in a combination that made you drip. Soon enough your own moans were mixing with his filling the trailer with the sounds of your pleasure.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I have dreamed of this so many times but I couldn’t imagine how amazing it would actually feel.” Eddie whispers against your ear.

He then begins to suck on your neck overloading your senses with all of him. You feel your entire bodies connected and you can’t even think. The only thing crossing your mind is Eddie and everything he is doing to you now.

Eddie stops his attack on your neck but before you can protest his hand joins him in the most intimate part of you applying the right amount of pressure to your clit that makes you feel your orgasm quickly beginning to build inside you.

“Fuck, Eds, keep this up and I’m gonna cum soon.” You say.

That brings a devilish smile to Eddie’s lips. He lowers himself next to your ear.

“You don’t cum until I tell you to, got it?” He whispers and begins a relentless pace that has your head spinning.

Fuck, you could feel your orgasm ready to rip through you but you hold it with every force in your body. Your hands attach themselves to Eddie’s shoulder leaving what would surely be marks of your nails digging into him. That makes him moan louder and become more brutal in his ministration.

You feel the pace of Eddie’s thrusts faulting into you and you are sure he has to be close to his own orgasm.

“Cum for me.” He finally says.

You feel the orgasm making its way through your whole body as you moan loudly once again in the same afternoon. You can barely think but you hear Eddie moan loudly also and feel him humming with you as his thrusts become erratic riding you through both your orgasms.

Once you both have calmed down, Eddie falls on top of you breathing heavily. Fuck, that was… intense. And wonderful. And you wanted more of it in your life.

“How was that?” Eddie asks taking himself away from you in a sensation that leaves you feeling almost empty.

“Do you have to ask?” You ask back with a laugh.

It was cute that he was insecure but honestly he really didn’t have to be. That was the hardest you had ever orgasmed in your life. He opened a proud smile and wraps his arms around you.

“So I’m guessing this can be an activity we repeat?” Eddie questions shyly.

“Oh yeah, definitely.” You say kissing him softly.

You look up at Eddie and he is almost glowing. The look he gives you is of a man completely enamored and you can’t believe that this feeling is directed toward you. That anyone could look at you that way. In that moment you feel so loved that you can’t help what escapes your lips.

“Eddie, I love you.”

There is a moment of silence that makes your heart stop in its tracks. Fuck, did you just ruin it?

“I love you too.” Eddie says before his lips are once again crashing into yours in a kiss that is delicate but full of passion.

You couldn’t believe your luck. You couldn’t believe this incredible man that you got to call your boyfriend. And in that moment you were truly happy.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie my beloved #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #+18 or +adult only #dating eddie munson

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

A Really Bad Day

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x actor!reader 

Summary: Dieter comforts you after a bad day.

Word Count: 895 (Drabble)

Warnings: Some angst. Mostly just fluff.

Notes: I’ve been having a rough go at it so this is mostly what I wish Dieter would say to me. As always interactions with the post are appreciated as well as feedback!

“FUCK”

You yell out as you throw your bag on the corned of the room not thinking about how things inside it could break. Dieter immediately jumps from his place on the couch at the sound of your yell and the loud door slam.

“Woah, what’s wrong, kitty cat?” Dieter questions going up to you quickly.

Even the nickname that is supposed to be endearing and comforting feels annoying to you today. It had all gone to shit and you were about ready to give up on your stupid life.

“What isn’t wrong? It’s all so fucking dumb.” You say allowing him to embrace you.

His larger figure enveloping yours in a crushing hug is the first comfort you feel today. His body is like a natural furnace that always radiates heat no matter how cold the day is. You love Dieter’s hugs. They are always the best.

“The audition didn’t go well, I take it?” He questions once again to which you only nod against his chest.

It’s not only that the audition didn’t go well. The audition had gone stupendously bad. Your manager had given you the wrong sides to read from, you made a complete fool of yourself, and the tied executives hadn’t even bothered paying attention to your fiery disaster. It was embarrassing. You were dating one of the most famous actors in the world and you couldn’t book the gig that would finally give you your break.

“Hey, look at me.” Dieter says taking you away from the embrace so you could look in his eyes.

He wipes away a single tear falling from your eyes.

“I know you’re frustrated, okay? This job is infuriating. I mean look at me! I’ve won an Oscar and there are still parts I can’t book.” Dieter says calmly never breaking eye contact with you.

“Yes, but you already have a career. You’ve already made the movies that make you recognizable. You can actually make a solid living out of this.” You argue back trying to not cry more.

“And it continues to be infuriating that there are roles I genuinely would love to play but can’t. That’s just how it is, kitten, unfortunately this industry is cruel.”

You take a deep breath and take in what he’s saying. You know Dieter also never had it easy. When he was coming up it was still very hard to imagine that a Latino could be a leading man and a heartthrob. Heck, nowadays people still found that hard to believe.

It was a cruel and unfair industry set in an equally cruel and unfair world but when you looked into Dieter’s eyes and saw the amount of love radiating from them for you it all seemed… easier. It wasn’t perfect but having him right there, feeling the weight of his hand on your shoulder and knowing that this man would bend over backwards to make you happy just made it all a little better.

“I just want to do right by you. I don’t want you to date a failure.” You admit with more tears coming out of your eyes.

“Oh my god, that has to be the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” Dieter says making your laugh. “I don’t think you’re a failure! I think you are one of the most talented actresses I’ve ever met! And you know all that is keeping you from a big role is one phone call from me.”

“You know that’s not how I want to make it into this industry.” You reply.

“I know. I respect the heck out of you for it.” Dieter says bringing you back into a hug.

He had offered many times to get you a huge part and you know he could do it. Deiter had connections in places you couldn’t even imagine. But this was supposed to be your success. Your life. You didn’t want to owe Dieter that much and you wanted to carve your own path.

“Believe me, I think the world of you. I see what you’re doing and I see how hard you’re trying. That’s all you can do, baby, try your best. Which, by the way, is more than enough. Some shit is just out of your hands, okay? But believe me  soon enough those Hollywood bozos will realize how brilliant of an actor you are.” Dieter almost whispers kissing the top of you head.

He always knew just what to say to you. Well, maybe not always. You still remembered when you first met on the set of some B-action movie he was making after the Cliff Beasts fiasco. You were just a background actor so when THE Dieter Bravo came to talk to you it was almost unbelievable. That was until he gave you some cheesy one-liner that was corny as hell and asked you out. You thought he was cute and found his attempt charming so you said yes and well here you were. Months later with the best boyfriend you had every had.

You break away from Dieter’s embrace and kiss him longingly which he replies with enthusiasm.

“Thank you.” You say as soon as you break the kiss.

“Don’t mention it.” Dieter replies with his Academy Award Winning smile. “Do you want to order some comfort food and watch trashy tv shows?”

“Mr. Bravo, you read my mind.”

#dieter bravo #dieter #the bubble #the bubble fanfiction #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x y/n #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal #zaddy pedro

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

Pedro Pascal - VARIETY STUDIO: ACTORS ON ACTORS

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

#writing about sex also #being ace and just going well I think that’s how sex should go? #like ooooooo yes this is not how it actually feels for me but what a fun little imagination experiement #thoughts in my brain when writing smut

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

#stop stressing him out, nance

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

The Devil in Disguise || Part I

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader

Summary: Your tumultuous relationship with Eddie Munson begins when he saves you by pretending to be your boyfriend

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Creepy strangers, alcohol use, cigarettes, both Eddie and reader are over 18 in this, I think that’s it but let me know if there is anything else.

Notes: This is going to be a two parter with part 2 coming TBD. This is mostly fluff with Eddie and reader being dumb. Next part things will get even more interesting heheh. Also mentions Steddie in there because I can never decide if I want Eddie for myself or if I want him to be with Steve.

Your tumultuous run-ins with Eddie Munson began one night when you made the dire mistake of going to the Hideout by yourself.

You wanted to listen to some good music and it just so happened that no one wanted to go out that night. No bother. You were an independent woman and no one would stop you from having a good time which you mostly did.

Corroded Coffin played and you tried to resist staring at Eddie the entire time. You knew him from school but you doubted he knew you. He was friends with your brother but that’s where the connection between you stopped. That and the times you had come to the Hideout when his band just so happen to be playing and you developed a crush on the long-haired man. Could anyone blame you? Eddie was enchanting up on that stage and it seemed like every aspect of him was turned up to a thousand under the high lights. So you had the pleasure of staring and cheering for the hour sets feeling like a damn groupie. But that was it. The moment he stepped off of the stage he stopped being Eddie Munson, the superstar and went back to being Eddie Munson, the guy that constantly yelled during your lunch period. Just like that the crush was gone.

Today was no exception. You cheered, you cringed at yourself for doing so, and you also enjoyed the other really good bands that played. Just as you were beginning to gather up the courage to pay your bill and leave, a man that looked like he was in his 30s drunkly sat down next to you and began trying to start a conversation. Great, here you go again.

The one bad thing about being a young woman in Hawkins, Indiana who just so happened to like metal and punk was the inability to go out and not get hit on by men almost twice your age. You wanted to be more bold when things like this happened. In your head you told them to shove it and threw your drink on their faces. But in reality, you were too anxious to do anything like that. You mostly entertained the conversation by giving short answers and saying you weren’t interested. And it was also getting late, and your mother was waiting for you so you really should get going.

However, this time around no matter what you said the man would not waiver. He just insisted on keeping the conversation going, saying how pretty you were and how nice of a guy he was. You were beginning to panic and go through the basic self-defense you and Robin had learned that one time in your head when you felt an arm snake around your middle and a large hand rest on your hip.

“Jesus, sweetheart, I really can’t leave you alone, can I? I go to the bathroom for one second and you already have guys pilling on you.” You heard Eddie saying as you turned to stare at him.

You didn’t know what he was doing but the look on his face told you to trust him and go along with it. Hopefully, he could get you out of this.

“Sorry, babe. I keep telling him I’m not interested but it didn’t really stick.” You said in return still only staring at Eddie.

“So, what’s it going to be, asshole? You’re going to keep hitting on my girl?”

Hearing Eddie call you his girl made you feel a certain way you didn’t want to look too much into. You finally got the courage to look at the guy that was previously hitting on you to see a new embarrassed aura fall upon him.

“I’m so sorry, man. She didn’t say she had a boyfriend.” He said apologetically.

“How about you actually apologize to the lady for not leaving her alone, huh?” Eddie replied

The man sheepishly looked over at you and murmured a “sorry” that seemed to be all you were getting.

“Okay, now get the fuck out of here.” Eddie said with confidence.

He didn’t let go of your waist until the man was well off of your eye sight. As he did he immediately turned to you with what seemed to be concern in his eyes.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry you have to deal with pricks like that to just listen to some decent music in this town.” Eddie immediately checked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you for the save.” You replied still a little shaken from the whole situation.

There was a moment of silence before Eddie decided to speak again.

“You’re Henderson’s sister right?” He questioned staring at you intensely.

“Yup, the very same.” You replied offering him your hand. “Y/N.”

He shook your hand with a cocky smile opening in his lips.

“Eddie-“

“Munson. Yeah I know who you are.” You finished before he could.

“Does my reputation proceed me?”

“Does mine?” You shot back.

He let out a short laugh at the retort. Fuck, he keeps forgetting how hot Henderson’s sister is. The moment he saw you squirming away from that drunken buffoon something almost primal in him screamed at him to help. He just couldn’t stand and watch any woman get harassed like that but Henderson’s sister specifically had more pull over him than he’d like to admit.

“Well, only that your brother sings your praises. I know you’re into theatre. We had English together once and you did this crazy presentation on how The Great Gatsby relates to the disillusioned Reagan youth?” Eddie began saying.

“I mean Reagan’s a clown. Someone has to say it.”

“It was hella metal.” The fact he remembered it made you blush once again “And I know you’re pals with Steve Harrington. How is he by the way?”

“Well. I mean still working at the video rental shop not sure about what he wants to do with his life and with an apparent inability to get a long-term relationship but well.” You responded sincerely.

Eddie laughed at that opening a smile that made him once again seem a bit more to you like stage Eddie than regular Eddie.

“Do you go around telling Harrington’s dirt to everybody?” Eddie questioned.

“No, but I know you two have history so I don’t think he would mind you knew.” You reply matter-of-factly.

At this Eddie lost his cool composure and despite the dark lighting of the space you could swear you saw him blushing.

“He told you about that?”

“He tells me about everything.” You retorted.

“Well, I hope not EVERYTHING.” He said making you laugh.

She was really charming. As Eddie stood in that filled up bar looking at her laughing at his stupid joke he couldn’t help but fixate on her smile. God, she had a pretty smile. Every second he spent talking to her the notion that she was Henderson’s sister and so it would be a really shitty move of his part to hit on her became more of a distant thought inside of his head that was manageable to ignore.

“Well, m’lady, it was a pleasure to see you here.” Eddie said reluctantly not really wanting to leave your side.

“A pleasure to see you too, Eddie. Your set was really good.”

At this Eddie dramatically grabbed at his heart and made as if he was going to fall over.

“And she has good taste? A woman after my own little heart.” Eddie flirted enjoying the red tint that fell on your cheeks at that.

“What can I say? I’m the full package.” You joked.

“I’ll see you at school, Henderson.” Eddie let out with a smile and made his way back to his friends.

The night had taken a very unexpected turn but not one you were completely opposed to. You finally paid your bill and made your way out of the bar unable to stop smiling like an idiot. Gosh, you really were turning into a groupie. As you made your way home, you told yourself that this was just a meaningless interaction and that as you went back to school everything would return to normal and Eddie would almost forget who you were.

Things very much did not go back to normal after that night at the Hideout. When before you and Eddie Munson would barely cross paths or basically ignore each other when you did, now it seemed like it was impossible for you to not see him everywhere. The hallways, the cafeteria, the library. It seemed that you weren’t even safe outside of school and he would pop up whenever you were at Family Video with Steve.

Not only that but now Eddie made his presence very known to you, and not in the way he made it known to everyone else. You would catch him looking at you during lunch all the time and to be frank he would catch you when you were doing the same. The only difference being that when you caught him he would smile at you cockily and you would immediately look down and blush when he did it.

Whenever you picked up Dustin and his friends from Hellfire Club now, Eddie would be lagging behind as if waiting for you. You would see him lighting a cigarette or talking to the other members or taking his sweet time to tie his shoelaces, basically anything to keep him behind long enough to see you. You started waving at him whenever this happened which would only make him open up the same shit eating grin and wave back at you nonchalantly.

Still this was how you remained. You circled around each other but nothing more. You hadn’t even talked to Eddie since that night and at this point you refused to be the first one to give in on this. Your brother had already teased you endlessly about it after seeing your ritual with Eddie after D&D.

“Someone likes the Dungeon Masteeeer.” Dustin said as soon as he got into your car after you waved Eddie good-bye.

“Dustin, we’ve been over this. First off, no I don’t. And second, calling him that makes it sound incredibly sexual.” You replied all too aware of the awkwardness emanating from Mike and Lucas on your back seat.

“You two are clearly flirting with each other. And knowing Eddie it’s probably sexual.” He retorted as you sped off of the parking lot.

“DUSTIN!” You yelled hitting him on the arm.

After much protest from you and  the other boys you gave a ride home to, Dustin finally let it rest. That, however, did not put an end to this song and dance you and Eddie kept doing.

That was until one night Steve insisted you come with him and Dustin to an outing on a Sunday you didn’t have rehearsal. You accepted suspicious of all this secrecy as to where you were going. It was nothing new for you to hang out with both Dustin and Steve but they weren’t usually this anal about where you were going. So needless to say you were a bit confused when they parked in front of a trailer and Dustin immediately flew out of the car.

“This is a trailer park.” You simply said looking at Steve.

“Wow, your powers of observation never cease to amaze me.” Steve joked as he got out of the car.

You followed Steve into the trailer and to your surprise found most of your brothers’ friends, Robin, and the Hellfire guys all crammed in the small space. At the center of it all was Eddie Munson sitting on a goddamn throne and observing his band of subjects. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you looked at Steve.

“Seriously? You’re in on this as well?” You questioned your best friend.

“He asked me to bring you, okay? Be nice.” Steve insisted, not smoothly pushing you in Eddie’s direction.

Somewhat reluctantly you made your way next to Munson. Despite his being sat down and thus in the circumstances smaller than you he still exuded the ego that could annoy you to no end. He was clearly in his element. These were his people. You were the guest. And yet one nagging question still stood-

“So you need Harrington to invite girls out for you?”

“What can I say? I get nervous around pretty women.” Eddie replied simply once again making you blush.

It seemed like making your face red was becoming a sport for him. You looked around to mask your awkwardness.

“So this is Hellfire?” You asked looking back at him.

“In all its satanic glory.” Eddie said with a smile.

“So what do I pick my brother up from every Tuesday?”

“That’s also Hellfire. This is a side campaign we do so Harrington can play with us. He brought Buckley along one time and she kind of just stayed too.” Eddie explained once again examining his subjects.

You looked at Eddie again as a small quiet fell on him. Here, sitting on this stupid throne, amongst the people he clearly loved you were already beginning to see a glimpse of stage Eddie coming through and that meant trouble for you. Lost in your thought you ended up not noticing you were staring at Eddie.

“You ever played D&D?” Eddie asked taking you off your head.

“I’m an actor. Yeah, I’ve played D&D before.” You reply as if it were obvious.

“Oh, so the theatre kids are fellow adventurers?”

“We are. Except not all of us have to make a show out of everything we like.”

“I’m sorry I thought we were talking about the theatre kids.” Eddie joked.

“Says the man that is constantly climbing on lunch tables and yelling at the basketball team.” You replied without a thought.

“Touche.” Eddie conceited opening a smile. “Will you stay for the game then? They could use help beating this campaign.” With this Eddie leaned further back in the chair with an air of coolness “I’m not sure who makes the campaigns for you little theatre nerds but I’m pretty sure you’ve never seen anything like the shit I draw up before.”

“Oh you are on, Munson. I will destroy you.”

Turns out Hellfire was a lot of fun. Everyone took being in character very seriously which allowed you to do it as well. Not only that but you got to see Eddie play different characters which was just out of this world. By the end of it you were almost asking if he didn’t want to audition with you for the community theatre summer program after you both finished high school.

By the end of the night, you were all dead and the only two survivors were Steve and your brother. You tried not to be overly anxious as you watch them both argue against the next move.

“You have to get more than 17, Steve. These are very low odds.” Dusting nagged as Steve got more exasperated.

“I know, Henderson. Jesus, do you ever shut up?” Steve shot back.

“It’s hard to when the future of the entire party rests on our shoulders, Steve!” You brother yelled back.

“Just throw the damn dice!” Max yelled at both of them.

Steve threw the dice and there was a moment of absolute quiet as all of you waited for the die to roll. Before you could even process which number it landed on, you hear the room around you explode in cheer as Steve grabs you brother and begins jumping with him. You laugh as the group of people around you continue celebrating. You shoot a look at Eddie who is dramatically playing the death of the dragon your group finally beat. You smile to yourself and high-five Steve as he comes next to you.

After the end of the game, you discover that Hellfire does not end. Instead they continue in Eddie’s trailer, ordering pizza, half of them watching some movie Robin brought over from the store and the rest just sitting around and talking. You sit next to your brother, Steve and Mike as they recount to you what had happened in the campaign before you came to join them. Out of the corner of your eye you see Eddie exiting the trailer and you excuse yourself to follow.

When you arrive on the outside of the trailer you see Eddie lighting a cigarette and staring up at the sky.

“That was a pretty good campaign.” You say seeing Eddie jump at the sound of your voice.

“Christ, sweetheart, you almost gave me a heart attack.” Eddie says as you approach his side.

“You were right. You are much better than my DM.” You let out ignoring his comment.

“You flatter me.”

“Can I have one of yours?” You say pointing at the cigarette.

“You smoke?” Eddie asks incredulously.

You just nod and he gives you one of his cigarettes. Instead of pulling out his lighter to light up yours he instead choses to get unbearably close to you and light it with his own. After a few puffs of smoke have left your mouth you take a step back and take a deep drag as Eddie analyzes you.

Seeing you here, in his trailer, smoking one of his cigarettes, Eddie can barely believe that this isn’t a dream.

“You are not what I expected.” Eddie lets out almost subconsciously.

“You’re not what I expected either.” You reply giving him a small smile.

“What did you expect?”

“Selfish, asshole, who loves attention and is sort of mean to my brother despite saying is his friend.” You replied honestly.

“Well, I expected a prissy, little goody two shoes who is also a spoiled rich girl.” Eddie shot back.

“Guess neither of us missed the mark too much, huh?” You joked.

“Yeah, I guess not.” Eddie laughed.

You two fall silent again as you drag on your respective cigarettes. The night is peaceful and the weather is nice. You notice how many stars you can see in the sky from the trailer park. At that you imagine Eddie laying on top of the trailer and looking at the sky. His veiny arms resting below his head. He looks almost angelic in your head.

“You should come again next week.” Eddie blurts out pulling you out of your fantasy.

“What?”

“You should come to Hellfire, again.” He says again with less confidence than you usually see him with.

“Okay.” You simply say taking him by surprise.

“Wait, really?” He asks incredulously.

“Yeah. It was fun. I would love to come back.” You said with a smile. “I would also love to destroy your campaign once again next week.”

“I will not go as easy on you the next time, sweetheart.” Eddie replied with a smile.

With that you both put out your cigarettes and made your way back into the trailer. God, if you were going to have to see Eddie Munson emphatically play different characters every week you were going to be in trouble.

Turns out you loved Hellfire almost as much as you loved theatre. Because of rehearsals you could only attend the Sunday campaign but god was it fun. You enjoyed the time with your friends but you also enjoyed the new people you hadn’t met before. Most of all you seemed to enjoy becoming closer to Eddie.

After the first session as you kept coming back to the game you and Eddie became closer and closer. You would gravitate towards each other after the games and spend hours talking until your brother dragged you out of the trailer since you both needed to be at school the next day.

Not only that but as soon as you became a part Hellfire, Eddie started speaking to you in school as well. It seemed like he would find any excuse he could to come to your locker and talk to you. He forgot his notebook and needed some pages from yours (despite the fact that you had never seen him taking notes in a class), his lighter was busted could he borrow yours for the day, and you were pretty good in English, right? Turns out that he really was in dire need of help in his class despite the fact that you knew he read almost as much as you did.

You weren’t complaining though. You enjoyed the senseless flirting, his deep laugh and the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t looking. As little as you would like to admit it the more time that passed the more obvious it was that you were falling hard for the metalhead. You only wished he would do something about it. Which was what you were ranting about to Robin and Steve as they worked at Family Video.

“I just don’t see why he would keep obviously flirting with me and not say anything!” You said exasperated as Steve lifted an eyebrow.

“How obvious are we talking?” Robin yelled from where she was putting away a stack of returned tapes.

“I asked for a Hellfire shirt and he said he couldn’t give me one because he wouldn’t be able to contain himself if he saw me wearing it.” You replied back watching Steve cringe at the thought of you and Eddie doing anything sexual.

You could hear Robin murmuring “that’s pretty obvious” as she went back to putting the tapes away.

“Look, Y/N, the thing with Eddie is that outside of the fantasy world? He’s a total coward.” Steve replied wanting to put an end to this discussion.

“Was he a coward with you?”

“Yes!” Both Steve and Robin shot back.

With this Robin quickly went on a rant about how Steve actually had to be the first one of them to make a queer advance because of Eddie and how frustrating that was. You grunted rolling your eyes. God you hated how Eddie had this ability to drive everyone insane. It was a talent you had to admit it.

“So what does he expect? To just keep stringing me along?” You interrupted.

“Or maybe he wants you to make a move.” Steve said nonchalantly.

“He’s going to keep fucking waiting.” You said matter-of-factly.

“Oh my god, can you Hendersons ever put your ego aside for one second? You rather just stay in this cat and mouse game then? Just so you’re not the first one to give in?” Steve argued looking like he was about done with your bullshit.

Well, you couldn’t really argue with that. So you concocted a plan that would surely make Eddie either ask you out once and for all or you would fucking conceit and do it yourself.

That is how you ended up in Steve’s car, wearing your skimpiest black outfit, with your brother in the back driving to the Hideout. You were going to seek the beast where he was most comfortable. It didn’t take your brother much convincing to drag him along with you, he had been curios to hear the music his little messiah would rant about. Steve was the one that you had to drag along a little more. He wasn’t a prude or anything but this wasn’t his scene, still you knew that deep down you would do anything for each other so in the end he came along.

As soon as you all got crosses on all your hands the three of you made your way into the bar. Luckily, at this point you were already friends with the bartender to the point that he would sneak you drinks despite your age. Just enough to the point he knew was safe. You almost laughed as you made your way to Steve and Dustin standing in front of the stage. They could not look more out of place.

Steve almost yanked the drink out of your hand chugging half of it immediately. You laughed at him sipping your own.

“You nervous there, Steve?” You teased.

“Never actually seen him play.”

You could almost see him sweating. You knew from Steve that him and Eddie had fooled around in the past. You also knew that Eddie was the first guy Steve had ever been with but in your own frustration and enchantment with Eddie Munson it never really occurred to you how this was impacting your best friend. You hated that you never really thought there might still be something there for him.

“Shit. I’m sorry, are you okay?” You said lightly making sure no on could hear you “Are you okay with this?”

“Oh, yeah. Don’t worry about it. Eddie and I are history.” Steve assured you taking another sip.

“Doesn’t mean you’re not nervous to see him all sweaty in his element though, right?”

“Yep.”

As if on cue, you hear the small crowd begin cheering and see the members walking on stage. Your heart seems to skip a beat as your eyes land on Eddie holding his electric guitar, wearing a sleeveless Metallica tee, a little bit of eyeliner and a bandana across his forehead. The second he gets to the microphone he spots you and your tiny band of outcasts and opens that intoxicating smile that seems to only happen on that stage.

“Rockers, criminals, and misfits of the Hideout, we are Corroded Coffin.” Eddie begins introducing and stops for the wave of cheers that follows that sentence. Despite him playing it down his band had actually gathered a small group of fans that you would see repeatedly every time you happened to be at the Hideout when they played.

“I would like to specially dedicate tonight’s performance to a special little lady in the audience.” With that Eddie pointed straight at you. “Folks, get yourselves a girl that will drag her friends out to watch your shitty band play on Thursday evenings. Except not this one because she is taken.”

As soon as those words left Eddie’s lips, Gareth yelled “ah one, two, three, four!” and the music was enveloping you and the rest of the crowd. You could feel Steve leaning closer to you to yell in your ear.

“Is he seriously being possessive right now?”

“You heard him just as well as I did.” You yell back.

“I’m going to kick his ass.”

“Have you actually ever won a fight, Steve?” You could hear your brother yelling in reply.

Steve shoved him lightly as you laughed. The rest of the set was just a blur of you yelling lyrics and at some point both Dustin and Steve becoming comfortable enough that they were also jumping at the beat and yelling out at the end of every song.

As the set was over and the lights came back on, Steve and you were already three drinks in and all three of you were covered in sweat. Despite of what happened next you were considering this night a success. You paid for your tab and rushed over to Steve and Dustin again.

“Come on!” You yelled grabbing Dustin’s hand and heading towards the exit that lead to the stage door.

Steve followed you two as you made your way through the crowd of drunks and groupies. As soon as the cold air hit your face you could see the four men with their instruments already in cases chatting with the security guard and some beginning to make their way out. Eddie was lazily laying against a wall with a cigarette perched on his lips. You could hear his laugh making its way through the cold night to you.

Gareth was the first one to spot you three and yell out. The warmth that spread through your stomach as you saw Eddie opening a smile as his eyes set on you was something you were becoming used to at this point.

“Well, Edward, that was… interesting music.” Dustin said as you arrived next to the band members.

“Not really in the mood to take notes right now. So why don’t you keep it to yourself, okay?” Eddie replied sarcastically never taking his eyes off of you.

Jesus, you looked good. From the second he saw you from the stage it was like you had cast a spell on him or something. The outfit perfectly hugged your body and it was the hottest thing Eddie had ever seen you wear. It was taking everything in him to not drag you backstage and have you on the shitty couch in the green room.

“I will say that was something, Munson.” Steve commented where he stood next to you with his arm over your shoulder.

For the first time, Eddie shifted his eyes from you to Steve. His perfect stupid hair was covered in sweat and his cheeks were reddened.

“Maybe you should have come here sooner. I’m sure she would have appreciated it.” Eddie shot back motioning to you. “But you know I am a simple man I’ll take what I can get.”

“Yeah, you and simple don’t seem to go well together.” Steve shot back casually.

“Whatever, Harrington.” Eddie waved off “You look good though, man.”

“You do too.” Steve replied back all too aware of how this felt more sincere than it did feel like flirting.

You and Steve and you are interrupted by your brother’s yelling.

“We can give everyone a lift, right?”

“Henderson, how many people do you think fit in my fucking car?!” Steve yelled back and moved away leaving you and Eddie by yourselves.

You were silent for a second as Eddie offered you his cigarette. You gladly took it taking a deep inhale, nervous all of a sudden.

“You guys did great tonight.” You finally say breaking the silence.

“Thanks, sweetheart. Your praise does mean everything to me.”

His eyes quickly did a once-over looking you up and down.

“Harrington is also not the only one looking good tonight.” He commented smirking.

“Well, I must say the rockstar look does suit you well too, Eds.”

With that you take one more deep drag of the cigarette gathering up the courage for what you came here to do. You hoped with the alcohol in your system it would have been easier but it seems like it only made you more jittery around Eddie. Well, fuck it. It was now or never.

“So is all this flirting you keep doing with me for nothing or are you ever going to actually ask me out, Munson?” You blurted out almost throwing up the words.

Eddie almost reeled back in surprise from your words. To say he was not expecting this would be an understatement. He nervously laugh and took a drag off the cigarette himself tossing it away.

“You are ruthless, aren’t you?” He finally said sheepishly.

“I think ruthless would have been if I said this about two weeks ago.” You shot back.

“Touche.”

Suddenly Eddie in a grand gesture kneeled down and grabbed one of your hands as if he was about to break into a soliloquy.

“My most honorable, beautiful, lovely doll. Sweetheart. Y/N Henderson, would you do me the utmost honor of going on a date with me?” He finally stated making you laugh.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You joked back.

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female oc #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x henderson!sister #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson fluff

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

domesticity

Pairing: Marc Spector X Fem!Reader / Steven Grant x Fem!reader / Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader

Summary: You move into a new flat with the moon boys and they have their first tastes of domestic bliss.

Warnings: Implied smut: p in v, oral (f receiving). Minors DNI. But mostly it's fluff. A bit of hurt/comfort. Domesticity but that's literally in the title. Omniscient pov.

Word count: 3.8K

A/n: I'm very excited about this. I worked really hard on it so please please please let me know if you like it. Thank you to @sugared-tea for proof reading. Dividers by @firefly-graphics reposted because it didnt show up in tags. wtf tumblr.

Marc was terrified. 

His heart pounded in his head and it was hard to breathe in the small office he sat in. The stale air choked him, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt, and his nails dug into the cheap leather of the arm chair. The landlord glanced up at him briefly while explaining the tenancy agreement to you. He sat behind an impressive desk, wore a cheap suit, and smelled like his secretary’s perfume. It made Marc distrust him. You noticed that the landlord had stopped mid sentence and looked up from the documents in front of you. You followed his gaze until it landed on Marc.

Suddenly it was silent, he could breathe again, and all he could smell was the jasmine and honey scent of your perfume. You offered him a knowing smile, reached over and placed your hand on his knee.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

You knew it was hard for him. The horror he faced as a child made seemingly normal life events difficult. There was a reason he was alone for so long. When he was alone no one could hurt him, and he couldn’t hurt anyone else. Then he met you. Or, rather, Steven met you.

It has been a whirlwind ever since. You fell for Steven quickly. You fell for Marc and Jake just as quickly when they fronted around you. Suddenly he no longer slept on a cot in a storage container, but woke up to you asleep on his chest in Steven’s flat. He took you on ice cream dates, walked you home, and tasted the cotton candy ice cream on your lips. You were so soft, and he felt like he didn’t deserve it, but he was addicted.

The longer you dated, the sooner you realized that it would just be easier if you moved into a flat with the boys. If you lived together you wouldn’t have to wonder who‘s staying at who’s flat. It would just be coming home. 

Steven and Jake agreed. Marc closed up, distanced himself. Fear clouded his mind and he retreated. You didn’t see or hear from him for a while, Steven had control of the body for almost a week. Steven was the one who convinced him to just talk to you, and Marc will never forget the look of relief on your face when he showed up at your door one night. When he explained that he wasn’t ready, that he needed more time before he made a commitment like that, he was worried he would hurt you.

It was the opposite. You understood without forcing him to explain. You promised you would wait til he was ready. Then promised that it would be okay if he was never ready. You made it clear that your only concern was that he felt comfortable and safe. He had a brief moment of “oh”, because he couldn’t remember the last time somebody other than one of his alters cared about his comfort. 

You kept your promise and waited till he was ready. It meant the world to him.

Now you sat next to him in the landlord's office. It felt like you had searched for a flat for ages. It had to be between the garden center you worked at and the museum so that neither you or Steven would be late. 

Marc noticed how disappointment had started to weigh on you when you couldn’t find a place at first. So when he saw the way your face lit up when the two of you viewed this flat, he knew it was the one.

You shook his knee as worry pricked at your heart and your eyes searched his face for any sign that he needed to back out before it was too late. 

“Hey…We don’t have to…” You reminded him gently.

But god he wanted to.

“Hand me the pen.” 

It’s rough at first. The two of you cramped on the cot he used to sleep on with only a thin blanket that provided almost no warmth. You lived out of suitcases. There was no furniture yet so the two of you ate dinners on the floor. You shared a bottle of cheap wine and laughed over your to-go containers of food. Your heart fluttered when he looked at you that way. Before you knew it he had pulled you onto your feet and asked you to dance with him.

It was full of stumbles and wheezes of laughter as he twirled you too quickly for the song that played from your phone. You stepped on his toes but he didn’t have time to feel the pain because you pressed your body into his and draped your arms around his shoulders. You beamed at him when his hands found your waist and he guided the two of you in a slow sway around the empty living room. Your hand slid up to the back of his neck and you pulled him down for a kiss that left you both breathless and needy.

Neither of you have ever felt so at home.

Now you went on Ikea dates, and you explained how a ‘sunflower yellow’ throw blanket would compliment the ‘cloud gray’ color of the couch. He thought he understood, but then he saw the variety of yellow throw blankets and realized they all looked the same. He picked one up and asked if you liked it, and you shook your head and told him it was more of a ‘daffodil yellow’. Never in his life did he think he would get a lecture in the middle of an Ikea about the differences between two shades of yellow that both had flower names.

Meanwhile, you were amazed that he didn’t seem to see the difference when he picked up a ‘goldenrod’ yellow blanket. The hopeful look on his face made you melt, so you told him it was perfect and you dropped it in your cart.

When you asked Marc what color scheme he wanted for the bathroom he was caught off guard. He didn’t know that people had color schemes for their bathrooms. According to you, coral was common. Teal was even more common. He pointed out a set of lilac towels with white accents and you said it was very ‘French countryside’ which he assumed was a good thing as you placed the set in the cart. 

As the two of you left the bath section you stopped suddenly, which caused Marc to crash into your back. You eyed a rack full of fuzzy gray bathrobes, and reached a hand out to feel how soft it was before you looked over your shoulder at Marc with pleading eyes. 

“No.”

“Why not?” You questioned as you stuck your bottom lip out in your signature pout.

The next thing he knew you beamed next to him as the clerk rang up the towels, blanket, and two of the fuzzy bathrobes. 

For most nights that summer you curled up with Marc on the couch and watched the Cubs game. You withheld the fact that you, and your entire family, were Cardinals fans (which also meant you had a St. Louis cap hidden under some extra blankets on the top shelf of the closet). You knew at some point you’d have to tell him, but at the moment you were content on letting him watch his favorite team while his head rested on your lap.

When there wasn’t a Cubs game to watch you made two cups of sleepytime tea before you cozied up in bed with Marc. The two of you would try to read before bed, but it would never last long. It was impossible to concentrate when you started to kiss his neck, or when you’d take the book from his hands and straddle his waist. Your lips tasted like spearmint, chamomile, and lemongrass when you kissed him.

“It was a boring book, anyways.” He sighed into your mouth, separating the kiss only so he could tug your shirt off of you.  “Don’t know how Steven reads that shit.”

There are moments, of course, that aren’t so pretty. Arguments that break out and lead to eating dinners in a cold silence that suffocated the both of you. Marc  always seemed to leave the table early, despite the rule he had requested that you always finish meals together. 

He had a tendency to try and push you away. For the most part you were able to tolerate it, you knew there were some things you didn’t know about him yet and you weren’t going to pressure him to talk about it.

You tried to sleep  on the couch those nights, cocooned in the  sunflower goldenrod colored blanket. He tried to sleep on the bed until he realized that he can’t sleep without you. He made his way into the living room, and you lifted your tear stained face to look at him. Guilt plagued his heart as soon as he caught sight of your red eyes. 

He sat on the edge of the coffee table and leaned towards you with his elbows digging into his thighs and his hands clasped together. He’s not great at apologies but he tried his best and you knew that. So you lift the blanket, invite him in, and he’s relieved because he can’t remember the last time someone forgave him. But you do. Every time.

It doesn’t take long before you’re writhing underneath him, the blanket and your clothes discarded on the floor. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your nails dragging angry red lines down his back. The cold silence that once filled the flat was replaced by the heavenly sound of you chanting his name. Punctuating each whispered word of “I love you” with a rough thrust into you. 

In a way, Steven missed his old flat. Not that he regretted moving in somewhere with you, it’s just that there were a lot of memories tied to that dusty attic level flat he used to call home. Not all the memories were great, of course, but they were still memories. There were times in that flat where he was aware of just how lonely he was, so lonely that he talked to his one-finned best friend. There were other times when he enjoyed the quiet after having spent all day listening to Donna bitch at him. Then of course there was the time he was dragged out in cuffs by people who worked for Harrow. But it’s also where he had his first kiss with you, where he first told you he loved you, and where you spent long nights just talking about anything and everything with him. It was very bittersweet when he moved out.

Now, though, you woke him up early every morning for work. It was something he had grown used to. No longer having to depend on the alarm on his phone. You peppered kisses across his face, neck , and collar bones until he groggily lifted his head and wished you good morning.

You joined him in his morning showers and complained about the cold until he turned up the temperature so much that steam fogged the glass. You kissed the scratches that lingered on his back from the other night with Marc and muttered a shy apology. You wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your chest into his back. You claimed that somehow the water was still too cold for you.

It took him a while to catch on.

Eventually your lingering touches and the way you pressed against him clicked something in his brain. He pressed you against the steam frosted glass as his lips attacked whatever skin he could reach. He was intoxicated by the scent of your tea tree and peppermint body wash as he nipped and sucked dark marks onto your neck before he soothed it with his tongue. 

“Kinda defeats the point of a shower, doesn’t it?” You laughed. 

Afterwards he sat at the kitchen table and sipped on the cup of tea you made him. He’s wrapped in one of the fuzzy bathrobes you convinced Marc to buy. Damp curls rested on his forehead as he gazed down through his reading glasses at  his note cards for the tours he had to give at work that day. He kept getting distracted by the occasional flutter of the skirt on your sundress when you passed him. 

“Did you feed Tut, Cleo, and Osiris?” 

“Yes, dove.”

When you moved into the flat you convinced the boys to get a third goldfish for Jake, which he promptly named after the god of the underworld. The name suited the fish, considering the fact that the tank was decorated to look like the Duat.

Part of your morning  routine included watering the plants that needed it. The flat was filled with plants from peperomias to zamioculcas. Steven’s personal favorite was the peace lily. Which was, admittedly, a little biased because that was the plant he bought from you the day he met you. You had told him that the peace lily would help him sleep. He kept coming back to the garden center  because he loved listening to you talk. You’ve taught him a lot. Gardenia relieves anxiety, boston ferns remove toxins, jasmine soothes the body and mind, and pothos purifies the air. He believed you. Then again, he’d believe you if you told him the sky was purple.

Just when he thought you couldn’t possibly find room for another plant, you would come home from work with a new one. Not that it upset him. He was the last person who could judge you, given his growing collection of books. If anything, it made him happy to see you so happy that you had another plant. What made him happiest about it, though, was that you wanted him involved in your hobby.

You just adored how much Steven cared about the plants. He always helped you care for them, even repotted a few for you if they got too big for the ones they were in. He’d also have brief moments of panic if one of the plants became shriveled, thinking he had killed it. He always had the most heart broken look when he would show you the potted plant that he believed was gone forever. Then when you would explain that it just needed water or needed to be fed fertilizer, it would be the first time he ever heard of having to “feed” plants. 

Steven always walked you to work, even if it put him at risk for being late. He stole a kiss from you before you walked into the shop, your lips tasted like peppermint toothpaste and watermelon lip balm. He told you to have a good day before he turned and walked in the opposite direction to head to the museum. 

Steven would also always pick you up from work. He’d wait outside while you finished closing up. One particular night when he picked you up, you skipped out the doors with a shopping bag hidden behind your back as you beamed at him, a bit of potting soil smudged on your cheek.

“Got you something.”

Even though he tried to get you to show him the gift you got him, you made him wait until you got back to the flat. When you did finally get home you made him sit on the couch and close his eyes while you pulled the gift out of the bag.

You sat on his lap and facing him before you told him he could open his eyes. You hold up a white shirt with a small  green monstera leaf on it and the words ‘plant dad’ underneath it. Apparently your shop had started selling these shirts and you thought it was perfect for him. Then you told him it got even better. You reached into the bag again and pulled out a second one but it said ‘plant mom’. You usually found matching couples shirts to be a little too much, but these were your Achilles heel. 

Steven, on the other hand, loved that you thought of him when you saw the shirt. It showed in the way he smiled at you before he pulled you in for a kiss he’s been desperate for since you got home.

It wasn’t always so sweet when you came home, though. Sometimes you had a bad day at work and you’d be silent the entire way home, your head throbbing from the headache annoying customers had caused, and your body aching from lifting heavy bags of soil all day. 

These were the nights that all Steven cared about was taking care of you. He’d run you a bath with lavender bath soaks because he learned from you that the scent was soothing. He’d order your favorite food because neither of you really wanted to cook. But mostly he smothered you in kisses. His body tangled with yours as he placed small pecks  all across your face. He was only satisfied once he saw your smile and heard your laugh.

He would let you rant to him if you needed to. His hand would trail up and down your arm soothingly as he listened until you had no more frustration left in you. Or he would talk about his day if you didn’t want to talk about yours. You would lay on your stomach with your chin resting in your palm as he told you about the different tours he gave, or if Donna was particularly bitchy that day.

Eventually he would see the way your eyes drooped with exhaustion and he would convince you it was time to sleep. You’d lay your head on his chest and listen to his heart beat as his fingers combed through your hair. He whispered promises that tomorrow would be a better day and he’d tell you how much he loved you before sleep claimed your tired mind. 

Jake adjusted to domestic life the fastest.

There were very few constants in his life, and you were one of them. 

You don’t see him as much as you would like to, but when you do it’s as if he was never gone. 

One thing that Jake firmly believed in was cooking together. There was something about the laughter that flowed between the two of you and the gentle, grazing touches you shared when you passed each other in the small kitchen. It was usually during the ungodly hours of the night. He woke you up the same way you were coaxed to sleep, soft kisses sprinkled across your face until your eyes sleepily fluttered open.

“Do you want french toast?”

He enjoyed making breakfast with you because he hardly ever got to spend mornings with you. So the two of you made french toast in the middle of the night, complete with sliced kiwis, strawberries, maple syrup and powdered sugar. It was a rot-your-teeth type of sweetness that only you got to experience as you shared sticky, maple syrup flavored kisses under the flicker from the television. 

There are some nights, though, where you don’t see him at all. As if on autopilot, you would wake up in the middle of the night expecting to be tempted out of bed by the promise of sweet breakfast foods. Except all you would find is an empty bed and a note left for you on your side table that you were only supposed to see in the morning.

The note would explain where he was going, and when he would expect to come back from his mission. He would also ask you not to worry about him as he told you he would be fine. That didn’t stop you. You hardly slept when he was away. Your mind ran through all the possible what if’s during every hour of every day he was gone.

On the nights you expected him to return you didn’t sleep at all. You checked your phone every ten minutes as your heart thumped anxiously in your chest when the time he said he would be back drew closer. Then that time passed and dread settled in your mind. Your chest felt crushed, which made it impossible to breathe as a chill crawled slowly across your body. 

Jake would find you still awake, waiting for him, when he would finally come home several hours later than he said he would. Your head would snap up from where you were seated at the kitchen table and before he could so much as blink, you’re rushing to him. You cling to him as if he would disappear, a squeak of a sob would escape your lips as you buried your face in his shoulder.

He’d be quick to pull away just slightly as his hands found your face and he wiped the tears that flowed from your eyes. He whispered assurances that he was okay before you even asked, as your hands fisted the material of his shirt. He hated that he was the one that made you feel like this. 

“I’m okay, mi amor.”

You checked him everywhere for injuries, even though you knew Khonshu’s armor healed him. You had to check because your mind would not stop worrying if you didn’t. He let you, because he would do anything to soothe the worry that flooded your mind. He hated how tired you looked as you fretted over him. 

You wished he’d stop. That he’d tell the fossilized turkey to fuck off so you didn’t have to sit and worry that something had happened to Jake. 

Jake wished you’d realize that he does it so he could protect you, Marc, Steven, and everyone else.

But that conversation can be tabled for another time. 

For now he apologized with his head between your thighs. He pinned your hips to the bed as he coaxed the second third orgasm from you. You had  lost count at this point as they all seemed to blend together. Your head thrown back and fingers twisted in the white satin sheets as his name escaped your lips, breathless and needy. When he brought you down from your high he dotted kisses along both your thighs before he trailed them up your body. He kissed between the valley of your breasts, across your collar bones, along your neck, and on both of your cheeks before he finally met your lips. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his lips, and your hands fumbled for the waistline of his boxers. He stopped you before you could push them down, and mumbled onto your lips that he only wanted to take care of you tonight. Then he grinned.

“Do you want french toast?”

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

Getting Up Next To You

Pairing: Steven Grant x f!reader (background Jake Lockley x f!reader)

Summary: Steven keeps waking up next to you after you and Jake hook up

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Mentions of smut, social anxiety, some angst, general self-hatred, let me know if there is anything else I missed. MINORS DNI

Notes: I just love the idea of Steven being an awkward little bean after waking up next to you. Also the idea of him slowly falling in love and you two being little anxious messes. I’m just obsessed with him and I think he could make me like myself more. As always interactions with the post are appreciated as well as feedback!

The first time you met Steven Grant was when he woke up next to you unaware that you would be there. To say he was surprised was an understatement. Waking up next to beautiful women he didn’t remember was not a common occurrence in his life.

Steven almost fell out of the bed when he turned to find you peacefully sleeping next to him. You quickly proceeded to try and calm him down or at least convince him you weren’t an intruder.

“Jake told me this might happen. Are you Marc or Steven?” You quickly questioned trying to deescalate.

It took a second for Steven to process your words. Jake told you? Christ, what had his life become since the third alter joined them.

“Steven. Wait a minute, you know Jake?” He questioned back still confused.

“Yes, we slept together last night. That’s why I’m here.” You answered seeming way too calm for someone that woke up next to a different person sharing the body of your one night stand.

Of course Jake would do something like this. Bring someone into their house and then not even have the common decency to see them out. Steven couldn’t understand how he shared a body with someone so different from himself sometimes.

“I was kind of… spent last night. Couldn’t really walk home afterwards. I’m so sorry I’m bothering you now.” You apologized clinging the bedsheets to your chest.

Oh god that meant you were naked under the sheets. Steven desperately tried to wave that thought away.

“Alright, that is probably more information than I needed to hear. And you’re fine.” Steven said moving away from the bed.

“Thanks.”

An awkward silence fell over the two of you. Neither sure what to do in this situation.

“Do you want to have some breakfast? I make some mean scrambled eggs.” You offered moving away from the bed still clinging to the sheets.

Steven was in a dilemma. He wasn’t sure what the etiquette was here or if Jake would be mad if he accepted. By the situation you two were in, it was clear his alter wasn’t looking for a lasting relationship. Yet, you seemed so kind and there was so much hope in your offer. Damn Jake, he was the one that put Steven in this situation and he would have to deal with the consequences.

“Breakfast sounds lovely. What’s your name by the way?”

You introduced yourself offering your hand for Steven to shake. You were unreasonably cute. Part of Steven wished he was the one that had met you first.

Steven gave you your clothes and moved to the kitchen busying himself while you changed. He was so different from the person you met last night it almost gave you whiplash. You obviously had liked Jake, otherwise you wouldn’t have gone home with him. Yet where Jake was all sharp edges and hungry looks, Steven was smooth and soft. The fact that he didn’t even try to sneak a look at your naked form really solidified you were dealing with someone different.

Once you were fully clothed, you made the breakfast you promised: scrambled eggs, toast and coffee. You and Steven ate together making conversation. You asked him lots of questions and seemed genuinely interested in his answers. What was his favorite breakfast food, how long has he lived in London, did he prefer breakfast or dinner. Being socially anxious this was your strategy for when you met new people. Just ask them as many questions as you could, start from what you are doing now and try to trace it back all the way to their family roots. This way conversation would happen and you didn’t have to panic about being in silence and them hating your presence.

Steven was surprisingly disappointed when the meal ended. He wanted to keep talking to you. In the short amount of time you spent together he had rather enjoyed your company. Nobody was usually interested in spending time with him, and yet here you were. A complete stranger that had managed to learn more about him over the span of a meal than most of the people he had been working with for years.

“I’m off then. It was lovely to meet you, Steven.” You said after you helped him put all the dishes in the sink.

“It was lovely to meet you too. I hope we’ll get to see each other again.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. But I hope so too.”

The smile you gave him made his heart melt. Gosh, he would have to beg Jake to make this not a one night stand.

Steven had berated Jake with questions after that morning. He wanted to know all he could about you and yet he was met with the answer of “you were just some girl he met at a bar”.

It’s not like Jake didn’t like you. He most certainly did. You were hot, the sex was amazing, and he actually enjoyed talking to you at the bar. But Jake was not in the business of collecting repeated trading cards. He was not looking for a relationship and was very secure in his choices which just made Steven more displeased that really it was unlikely he would meet you again.

That was of course until he once more woke up next to you and this time actually fell out of the bed in surprise.

“Steven, calm down! It’s just me!” You shouted trying to calm your own rapid heartbeat from the shock of being woken up like that.

“How’d you know it was me?”

“You reacted the same way you did last time. Also you have a British accent. Jake told me the other one doesn’t.”

“Jake told you?” Steven questioned uncertain as to why his alter would just offer you information like this. “Yeah, I asked him about you.” You said nonchalantly.

Steven could almost hear his heart stop. Fuck, you asked about him. He tried to not get his hopes up but the very fact you wanted to know more about him had to mean that you also thought about him after. Right?

“I have been dreaming about those scrambled eggs.” He said with a smile.

And about her. You won’t shut up about it. Steven ignored Jake’s voice in his head.

“I’ll gladly make them again for you!”

With that you two did the same as last time with Steven moving to the kitchen to grab ingredients while you put your clothes back on. This time, however, it felt comfortable. Familiar. You didn’t feel stressed around Steven despite the fact you had only met him once and the fact that the voices in your head weren’t screaming that this was awkward and you needed to leave as they usually did was something you didn’t know what to do with.

Truth be told, you had secretly hoped Steven would be the one you woke up next to before you fell asleep the night prior. When you saw Jake from across the bar the previous night you wanted to sink into your seat. The two of them hadn’t left your mind since the last time but as usual it would take way too much courage you didn’t have to actually go speak to him. And he clearly had meant for it to be a one-time thing, you could get the context clues for that. So you can imagine your shock when Jake approached you again, just as flirtatious as last time. One thing led to another and you were once again here with Steven eating eggs.

This time around you asked him if he minded you turning on the TV while you two ate. So you sat next to him watching a re-run of Doctor Who while you still asked questions. This time the questions were all related to his interests and you were perhaps the first person Steven met that didn’t seem to immediately check out when he went on a rant about how Gods of Egypt had gotten it all wrong. Steven was in trouble and he knew it.

Once more, the meal seemed to end way too quickly and before Steven knew it you were taking the dishes to the sink and picking up your bag.

“Wait, don’t you at least want to see the end of the episode? I mean I would be devastated if you didn’t know what happened about those blasted Weeping Angels.” Steven offered.

Truth was you had seen Blink more times than you could count but you still accepted Steven’s offer. There was so much hope in his eyes you just couldn’t say no. You both sat on the couch and continued watching the episode making comments about your thoughts on it. You ended up watching the episode they aired after it too and it was afternoon by the time you finally left.

Steven really hoped Jake would choose to bring you home again.

Before Steven saw you next he argued with Jake endlessly. He lost count of how much time he spent in front of the mirror just grilling Jake on why he wouldn’t invite you on a proper date. He clearly liked you and it was the least you deserved. If Steven couldn’t be in a relationship with you, he at least would like for someone in the system to do it. Yet, as always Jake would give the same answer: he was not interested in a relationship. True, he had slept with you twice. And brought you to the actual apartment versus your own house or the cab. All steps he hadn’t taken with anyone really but that was it. He wouldn’t cross anymore boundaries with you and a date would definitely cross many.

And then, after weeks of arguing, Steven woke up next to you again. Except this time he wasn’t frightened. He didn’t scream or fall out of the bed, he just laid there looking at you and trying to figure out how he could not disturb your sleep and yet still get to spend the day with you. After what felt like years but was probably a couple of minutes your eyes opened and focused on Steven’s. The moment they did you opened an enchanting smile.

“We really gotta stop meeting like this, Steven.” You joked.

“I rather like the sight of you first thing in the morning.” Steven said making your cheeks turn red.

He really hoped that wasn’t too straight forward but it was like these feeling inside of him refused to be contained. He was had it bad for you. Really bad.

“So breakfast?” You simply said already sitting up and looking around for your clothes.

“Actually I was planning to go to the museum today. A new exhibition on modern art just opened and I was going to go today anyway so maybe you could join me? We could get breakfast at the coffee shop there.”

Steven’s voice almost broke at the end. He was so nervous but he just couldn’t bear to think you would leave so early again.

“Don’t you work at the museum?” You questioned.

“Yes, but my boss Donna can be real nasty. She would never let me actually see the exhibition during work hours.” Steven explained.

“Sure then! I would love to!”

Steven almost couldn’t believe the word coming out of your mouth. How could he be so damn lucky?

You two went to the museum and Steven couldn’t have dreamed of something better. You had a genuine discussion about what art was and what your favorite painter were. You ended up seeing the new exhibition but also just walking around the entire museum. You stayed at least an hour in the Egyptian exhibit as Steven told you every detail about every piece and the history behind it.

Steven was enchanting. Gosh, when he went on his rants his eyes lit up and the perpetual dark bags under his eyes seemed to disappear. He was always beautiful but in the museum he absolutely glowed.

When he got too excited about showing you different things he grabbed you by the hand and dragged you from one piece to another. The contact was so small and innocent compared to the ones you’ve had with this same body in the past but it still made you blush. Fuck, you were whipped. You liked Steven. Not only Jake but now you truly couldn’t deny that you were crushing bad on Steven.

By the time you were finished with the museum it was late afternoon. Steven couldn’t remember a day he had enjoyed more. You both had decided to get food at a vegan restaurant close to the museum he loved. The meal was going lovely as always but one thing was in his mind and he just couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Why do you still sleep with Jake?” Steven blurted out almost involuntarily.

“What?”

“You clearly deserve better! You don’t deserve to be with a bloody wanker that will sleep with you and then not even have the decency to wake up next to you!”

To say you had not expected this was an understatement. You stuttered not really sure how to respond.

“Do I deserve better?” You asked letting your insecurity come through.

“Yes! You deserve the world.”

“It really doesn’t feel like that sometimes.” You confessed.

Steven quickly moved from his position on the other side of the booth you were sitting in to get closer to you. He placed his hand on your cheek making you look him in the eye.

“Oh, love. You do. You’re brilliant and you deserve someone who will make you feel like it. You deserve someone who will worship you.” Steven said softly.

“Someone like you?” A boldness took over you and forced you to say it.

You immediately regretted it and was about to apologize when Steven cut you off.

“If you’d have me.”

Instead of replying, you closed the distance between the two of you and kissed Steven. First the kiss was soft, temptation but as soon as he responded it quickly become hungry. Steven had been waiting for this moment for more than a month now and it felt fantastic. It was all he wanted and dreamed it would be.

The next time Steven woke up next to you was different. He wasn’t on the other side of the bed as usual. Instead he was pressed against your back, feeling your warmth as he snuggled closer to you.

He was the one that got to fall asleep next to you the previous night after he was the one to finally ravish your body. Hearing you scream his name as he plunged into you was enchanting and he understood why Jake kept coming back to you.

And now here he was. Getting to look at you in the morning knowing exactly how you both ended up in that position.

You stirred in your sleep and turned to look at him. You opened that same sweet smile that melted his heart.

“Good morning, Steven.”

“Good morning, love.”

#moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x oc #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x reader #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely x you #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic #steven grant fanfiction

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

This gave me life!!! And yes, ma’am he absolutely drives sexy you can bet on it 😍😍😍

Grays II

Frankie Morales x f!reader

{ Grays - Part I | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E (18+ only)

Summary: Leaning in close, you hiss in his ear, ‘You’re getting laid tonight if it kills me, Morales.’

Warnings: Insecure Frankie in need of self-love comes with his own warning, Reader is a hairstylist and has a related nickname, matchmaking elements, meddlesome mother, lots of teasing, not-quite-friends to lovers dynamics, mentions of hair, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, oral sex (F and M receiving), protected sex, dirty talk.

Word count: 8.5k

Notes: It's here - 4 months later! First of all, thank you so much for the love for Grays Part I. I still can't quite believe the reaction to Frankie and Shiv, you guys sure know how to make a writer feel special 🥰 This one was so much fun to write, and nervous as I am posting this follow-up, I'm telling myself to let go of my insecurities and just enjoy it because that's what it's all about. I hope y'all will have a good time at this wedding with the gang 😘

Francisco Morales likes to think of himself as a reasonably competent man. 

He can pilot a helicopter under intense enemy fire. He can take out a target from miles away in the tightest of spots. 

But he can’t do his fucking hair.

He glares at himself in the mirror. He can’t put his finger on it, it just doesn’t look like how you did it. He’s already washed it out and started over twice, and for a second, he considers driving to your salon. A quick glance at his watch tells him it’s far too late for that now.

Leaning over the sink, he says to his reflection, ‘Focus, pendejo. You can do it.’

He’s a pilot for fuck’s sake. He’s a man of procedure, he can follow steps. He just needs to break it down.

Hair half-dry - check.

Hair mousse applied - check.

Now he just needs to dry his hair all the way and style it - but the how is where it gets hazy. 

Frankie closes his eyes and casts his mind back to your salon. He’s sitting in the chair and you’re standing behind him. He wills himself to recall what you were doing with your hands, but all he remembers is the scrape of your of your fingertips on his scalp, the ghost of your breath on the back of his neck, and then -

Don’t be gentle, Francisco. C’mon, harder, deeper - don’t hold back.

He scrubs a frustrated palm down his face when his cock twitches in his haphazardly ironed dress pants, not for the first time… hell, not even the fourth time since he left your salon on Wednesday afternoon.

‘Goddamnit,’ he bites out, dropping the hairdryer with a clunk and grips the porcelain sink. He needs to calm the fuck down. 

He didn’t ask for - this, whatever this is. You’re you. You’re Shiv. The loudmouth with the wild hair he’s known since fifth grade. The fourth wheel at guys’ drinks when Will can’t make it. A relentless tease on a good day, and downright insufferable when you get enough tequila in you.

And quite possibly, the only person who’s ever driven him to the brink of unconsciousness with just the touch of their bare hands.

Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. Maybe you’re right. It has been a while since he’s been with a woman. He just needs to get laid at the wedding, get this weird tension out of his system. And then hopefully, he’ll be able to go to sleep without being kept up by you telling him to go harder, deeper -

By the time he gets his head out of his ass, it’s too late for second-guessing. He rakes his fingers through his hair, sets it with hairspray, and quickly rubs the beard oil he bought in town yesterday into his whiskers. He takes a moment to look himself over while he clumsily does up the tie he borrowed from Pope.

This is as good as it’s gonna get.

He’s the designated driver tonight. By some miracle, he’s only five minutes late when he cruises into Pope’s driveway, where all three of the boys are waiting and sipping on beers.

‘Damn Fish, you look good,’ crows Santi as he climbs into the passenger seat, patting him on the shoulder. ‘You should get your hair cut at Shiv’s from now on.’

‘Only if you keep paying for it,’ retorts Frankie while he backs out of the driveway. He pauses as he changes gears, and adds in a grumble. ‘She’s making me use shampoo and conditioner.’

Pope barks in laughter, twisting in his seat to give Benny a knowing grin. ‘Someone had to, you caveman.’

The younger Miller brother ribs good-naturedly, ‘You ready for some action tonight, Fish? I brought some extra rubbers just in case.’

Meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror, Frankie rips into him mercilessly. ‘You know your small ass condoms don’t fit me, Benjamin.’ 

The car erupts with playful jeers, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked smile as he palms the steering wheel.

‘That’s some fighting talk, Fish!’ goads Santi, punching him on the arm.

Will joins in the banter. ‘You better watch out, little bro. Big Dick Morales came out swinging tonight.’

Benny grins. ‘Ok, I see how it is. Let’s make it interesting, Fish. Whoever picks up a one night stand first wins a hundred bucks.’

Frankie shrugs in mock nonchalance and quips, ‘I mean, I can use the cash. Shampoo ain’t cheap.’

Benny chuckles and clasps his shoulder. ‘You’re on, man.’

It’s eight on the dot when you lock up the salon. While you did RSVP for wedding drinks - opting out of the sit-down dinner earlier in the evening - you hadn’t planned on actually going. But it seems like the whole town did, you’ve barely had two customers walk through the door all afternoon. 

So you let Ashton go home early, and after a quick snack, you take your time getting ready. Might as well have a Saturday night out - your first in many months.

The hotel is just a short Uber ride away. When you climb out of the car, you bite your bottom lip at the unfamiliar tension humming under your skin.

Nerves.

You’re nervous.

And worse, you know exactly what you’re nervous about. 

Or more precisely - who.

‘Pull it together, Shiv,’ you mutter under your breath. Steeling yourself, you stride into the hotel.

From his vantage point at the bar, Benny watches in amusement as Frankie glances towards the doors of the reception hall yet again. He doubts the pilot even knows he’s doing it, or at the very least, he doesn’t think that anyone would notice.

Grabbing his beer, Benny sidles up to his friend. ‘Looking for something, Fish?’

Frankie takes a sip of his Coke and feigns nonchalance. ‘Yeah, looking to win that hundred bucks from you.’

‘Dunno ‘bout that. I don’t see you trying very hard.’

‘Biding my time, Miller. Just make sure you have enough cash to -’ 

When Frankie breaks off in the middle of his sentence, Benny doesn’t need to look to wager a guess what caught his attention.

Turning around as you approach, he flings his arms out to give you a hug, eyeing you up and down appreciatively. ‘Babe, look at you all dressed up! Doesn’t she look nice, Fish?’

In lieu of an answer, Frankie stares intently at some invisible spot over your shoulder until Benny elbows him right in his stomach, jerking him out of his trance. ‘Fish?’

Frankie clears his throat and stutters. ‘Um. I - I don’t know.’

You arch an eyebrow at him. ‘You don’t know if I look nice?’

Benny has to stopper his mouth with beer so he doesn’t laugh out loud at the panic on Frankie’s face as he fumbles for a response. ‘I mean. Um, nice… pants?’

‘It’s a jumpsuit, Morales. Try to keep up,’ you reply and take two steps towards him, which has him backpedalling so fast that he upsets the table behind him, sending half-empty glasses spilling wine all over the white tablecloth.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he growls at you like a cornered stray.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you pull him upright by his tie. ‘Is he ok, Ben? He’s even jumpier than usual.’

‘Well, it’s a funny night for him. Watching his ex get married and all.’

‘I swear to God, Benjamin Miller, if you don’t shut the fuck up -’ 

‘Pipe down, Morales, we’re just messing with you,’ you shush him, tugging on his slightly skewed shirt collar to set it straight. ‘Can’t believe you own a tie.’

‘Borrowed it from Pope,’ he grunts without making eye contact.

Smoothing the lapels of his slightly crumpled suit jacket, you probe, ‘You’ve been using shampoo and conditioner like I asked?’

Frankie huffs a dry laugh. ‘I don’t remember you asking.’

‘Someone’s mouthy tonight,’ you tease. ‘And the beard oil?’

He concedes with a sigh. ‘Yes, Shiv.’

‘You look good, Francisco,’ you grin and reach up to push his curls back from his eyes.

He looks away as he admits, ‘Took three fucking tries.’

At least he holds still when you make small adjustments to his hair, shoulders stiff with hands stuffed deep into his pockets. You catch yourself missing the way he leaned into your touch in your salon, and you have to forcefully push that thought away as you push your fingers through the roots to boost the volume. His curls feel softer already than you remember them, with a noticeably healthier sheen. 

After a final rustle to loosen up his fringe, you wink at him. ‘Mark my words, the bride will rue the day she dumped your ass when she sees you.’

A voice from behind you interrupts. ‘It’s a bit too late for that now, isn’t it?’

Trading a look with Frankie, who gives you a sarcastic thumbs up, you put on a smile and turn on your heels. ‘Mrs. Morales, it’s been too long!’

‘I see you haven’t dyed my son’s hair like I requested,’ she says by way of a greeting, drawing you into an embrace.

Frankie’s taunt is so quiet that you nearly miss it. ‘Told you she’d come after you.’

Without skipping a beat, you elbow him in the ribs, ignoring his pained oomph from behind you. ‘You look wonderful tonight, ma’am.’ 

‘You can’t sweet talk your way out of my question, young lady.’

You cross your arms with a sigh. ‘I didn’t dye it because he looks good with the grays.’ 

‘Well, I don’t think so.’

‘In my professional opinion, he does,’ you retort pointedly.

‘If he looks so good, why is he still single?’

Frankie throws his hands up in exasperation. ‘Gee, thanks a lot ma.’

You turn to Benny, who has been silently watching you two spar. ‘What do you think, Miller?’

He dithers, eyes darting around in desperation until he spots Santi and his older brother coming back from the bar. ‘Look! Here are the guys, let’s ask them!’

‘Ask us what?’ asks Santi, giving you a kiss on the cheek and a glass of bubbly.

‘Do you think my son looks good with the grays?’

Your eyebrow twitches when Mrs. Morales carelessly ruffles his hair to emphasise her point. To your surprise, Frankie bats her away with an irritated ma!, before hastily rearranging it.

‘Your honest opinion, if you please,’ you add.

The boys hum and haw, sipping their beers and shooting uncertain looks between you and Mrs. Morales, clearly uncomfortable being caught in the middle. Upping the heat, you narrow your eyes at them, and Will folds first. 

‘Yeah, I mean - he looks good,’ he mumbles, avoiding the Morales matriarch's glare.

‘Pope?’ you prompt.

‘Cabrón rocking those grays,’ he nods supportively.

‘Ben?’

‘Uh huh,’ he replies vaguely, but at your menacing glare, clarifies, ‘Yes, I meant - yes, ma’am.’

Mrs. Morales scoffs. ‘They’re men, what do they know! I don’t see him catching any girls’ attention.’

Ah, that’s the easy part. You look around, scanning the crowds - and bingo, you see a brunette staring openly from across the dance floor. You hold up a finger for dramatic effect. ‘Excuse me for one second.’

Frankie looks ready for the earth to swallow him whole by the time you return with the said woman in tow. Pointing straight at him, you ask, ‘Lucy, this is Frankie. Do you think he’s hot with the grays?’

To her credit, she’s a good sport, and plays along with a cheeky wink. ‘Yeah, he is. You wanna dance, handsome?’

‘Yes, he absolutely does!’ you answer quickly before he can get a word in.

‘What the fuck, Shiv?’ Frankie seethes through clenched teeth, literally digging his heels in, but to his despair, his shoes skid uselessly on the tiled surface as you push him towards the dancefloor with this complete stranger. 

Leaning in close, you hiss in his ear, ‘You’re getting laid tonight if it kills me, Morales.’

‘Have fun, Fish!’ calls out Pope impishly, which earns him an emphatic middle finger. 

You beam at Mrs. Morales smugly. ‘And that’s how it’s done.’

‘You better keep it up, young lady,’ she says over her shoulder as she turns to leave.

You raise your drink. ‘Don’t you worry, Mrs M. I promise you - he’ll be leaving with his future wife tonight!’

Santi is minding his own business, sipping on his beer as he stakes out the ladies, when a hand shoots out from nowhere and snatches the bottle from him.

‘What the fuck, man?!’ he bristles indignantly.

Frankie polishes off the drink in one mouthful, before slamming it onto the table and demanding, ‘Where’s Shiv? I’m done. I’m not fucking dancing with anyone else.’

Pope jerks his thumb to the other side of the room. ‘She’s arguing with your mother.’

Frankie flops into a chair, the dress shoes that he never wears are pinching his feet and he fights the urge to kick them off. He folds his arms across his chest petulantly, one palm over his mouth as his eyes wander across the hall to you, where you’re gesturing madly at his ma, embroiled in an impassioned discussion, probably still about his damn hair.

You’re all dressed up tonight, which is new to him - he’s only ever seen you in jeans when you go out drinking with them, and he’s certainly never seen so much of you. The ‘jumpsuit’ (he learns something new every day) is black and cut low both front and back, and fuck, all he sees is soft skin and the dip of your curves and red lipstick -

Pope must have nipped to the bar while he wasn’t looking, and a fresh bottle of beer appears under his nose. Glancing up at his best friend, Frankie mutters, ‘Thanks.’

‘You can’t marry her, Fish.’

He chokes violently at the casual non-sequitur, spraying beer everywhere. ‘What the fuck, Pope.’

Santi beams. ‘You got that look on your face, man. I’ve seen that look before.’

‘I don’t have a look on my face.’

He chuckles, mostly to himself. 'Damn, I really should've seen this coming.'

‘What are you even on about -’ Looking up, Frankie spots you making your way over and panics. ‘Shut the fuck up, pendejo.’

‘Why aren’t you dancing, my little debutante?’ you ask when you come within earshot.

Santi chortles and takes his leave, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘Good luck, Fish.’

You sink into the empty seat next to him and he deliberately twists his body away from you, drinking deeply from his bottle to drown out Santi’s words ringing in his ears. 

‘So, I heard you have a bet going on with Benny. I want splitsies if you win.’

Frankie rolls his eyes, staring resolutely anywhere but at the swell of your cleavage. ‘No.’

‘40/60.’

‘Fuck off, Shiv.’

‘30/70?’ you counter-offer.

He sighs. ‘You’re impossible.’

Ignoring him, you jump up with a happy squeak when someone Frankie vaguely recognises as a girl who used to be in your class approaches with a shy smile. You pull her close by the crook of her arm and ask, ‘Morales, you remember Sadie?’

He tries not to scowl too openly as he too gets on his feet. ‘Sure, hi Sadie.’

Herding them towards the dancefloor, you grin, ‘Go dance, get reacquainted.’

As he passes by you, Frankie grits his teeth and curls his fingers into the meat of his palms to crush the urge to reach out and touch you. 

But it’s easier to fall into your well-rehearsed roles, to toe the line that has been drawn in the sand since you were teenagers. And easier is certainly the safer option when it comes to you.

So he throws you a deliberate glare over his shoulder, with a deadpanned, ‘I hate you.’

You blow him a kiss and grin wider.

Frankie can’t hold back a relieved sigh when the interminably long song finally ends, and the woman he’s dancing with - he won’t even pretend he remembers her name - tucks his phone back into the pocket of his jacket after tapping in her number. ‘Call me, gorgeous.’

He stopped counting after the eighth woman you shepherded his way. This is it. He’s not above hiding in the toilets if that’s what it takes to make this stop.

Except he’s not quick enough. He spots you out of the corner of his eye, marching straight towards him with a fresh glass of water and a look of purpose on your face.

He doesn’t exactly know what came over him. He could probably blame it on the one and a half beers that he downed, or being pushed to the end of his tether. Whatever it is, there’s something he has to say to you, and it can’t wait.

You push the glass into his grasp. ‘Here, hydrate.’

‘Shiv -’

You’ve already swivelled around, your focus somewhere else. ‘Where is she? She was literally just behind me -’

‘Shiv -’

‘Mind you, she’s a sweet girl, but clearly not the brightest tool in the -’

His patience snaps, and he barks, ‘Shiv!’

You spin around, brow furrowed in confusion, and snarl back, ‘What?’

Frankie pauses, and you blink as his warm eyes hold yours. On an exhale, he says, ‘You look nice tonight.’

You’re vaguely aware that your jaw has gone slack, but only because his eyes follow the movement, dropping to your mouth. He considers you for a moment, head tipping just slightly to the side as he watches you. Then, satisfied that he has your attention, he brings the glass of water to his lips, throwing his head back as he drinks. 

Your breath catches in your throat when his Adam’s apple bobs with his swallow, before he leisurely swipes his lips with the back of his hand.

Except in your mind, it’s not water that he’s wiping from his mouth.

In a perfectly mirrored imitation of what transpired between you earlier in the evening, he takes two measured steps forward, prompting you to back up against the table behind you. The tinkle of glasses falling over hardly registers in the back of your mind. 

The fabric of his suit is cool on your skin, brushing your bare arm as he looms over you, so broad and warm. Though his front barely makes contact, your peripheral vision gives and all you can see is him.

‘What are you doing?’ you croak the same words back at him, hating the way your voice shakes.

Frankie smiles - really smiles at you, with no colour of the usual irony or sarcasm. Warmth settles into the creases in the corners of his eyes as he holds up the empty glass. ‘Just putting my glass away,’ he says coolly, an edge of cockiness at your tragically obvious reaction to him.

You feel your cheeks heat up as he does just that - the back of his hand bumping into your forearm as he moves, the breadth of him pinning you against the table. He doesn’t pull away, clearly basking in the way the tables have well and truly turned -

‘Hi! You must be Frankie, I’m Jan.’

Frankie squeezes his eyes shut in irritation at the voice behind him, nostrils flaring as he collects himself. A resigned smile tugs at his lips, and he tips forward, his words grazing your ear. ‘Catch you later, Shiv.’

You only let your knees buckle when he’s safely out of sight.

You’ve barely stepped back into the reception hall from a much needed bathroom break to clear your head when someone grabs you by the arm, tugging you onto the dancefloor.

‘Benny!’ You reprimand, stumbling over your feet. ‘I’m busy.’

‘Relax, Shiv. Frankie can survive on his own for a second.’

‘You’re just jealous that he’s hogging all the ladies’ attention.’

He scoffs, palms on your waist as he sways to the music. ‘He has an unfair advantage, ok? How do I compete with the bride’s ex?’

Clasping your hands around Benny’s neck, you catch Frankie’s eye over his shoulder. You wink at him casually, having somewhat recovered your bravado - it’s easier to pretend from a distance anyway. He rolls his eyes at you over Jan’s head, but he doesn’t look away, watching you with a hint of something you can’t quite make out.

Glancing up at Benny, you ask a tad bashfully, ‘I know we give Frankie a hard time about all this, but is he - ok?’

‘Why don’t you ask him yourself?’

You hesitate. ‘Well, we’re not exactly that kind of friends.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know, the kind who sit around having heart-to-hearts and painting their nails.’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘What kind of friends are you, then?’ 

‘I don’t know, he probably doesn’t even count me as one,’ you admit. ‘He barely tolerates me on a good day.’

Benny shoots you a cryptic look, but before you can quiz him on it, he changes the subject abruptly. ‘Can I swing by the salon tomorrow morning? I have a promotional shoot at half past eleven.’

‘As long as you bring donuts and coffee.’

He twirls you around. ‘Deal.’

Frankie slinks out of the hotel, somehow managing to dodge both you and his mother on his way out, which he takes as a win.

It’s cold outside. He inhales deeply and feels it burn down his throat. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he watches his breath mist in front of his face, savouring the quiet.

‘Hey.’

His shoulders stiffen. He knows he should’ve been the bigger man. Should’ve sought her out first, to congratulate her.

Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.

When he turns around eventually, she smiles brightly at him, her engagement ring catching the lights.

Closing the space between them, he presses a kiss to her cheek. ‘Congratulations. You look beautiful.’

‘Thank you,’ she replies. ‘I’m glad you came. Your mum too - it was a long way to travel.’

His gaze falls to his shoes. ‘Yeah, well. You know she loves you.’

‘How are you?’ she presses on, always one for polite conversation. ‘Are you seeing anyone?’

Frankie shrugs but doesn’t answer.

‘Just because it didn’t work between us doesn’t mean I want you to be happy.’

He nods slowly. ‘I appreciate that.’

She points behind her. ‘Well, I should go back inside.’

‘Of course. I’m happy for you,’ he says. And he means it.

The hotel doors swing open, and Frankie looks up at the sharp clack of heels on the concrete. You pause at the sight of them by the curb.

‘Are you leaving, Shiv?’ the bride laments as you walk over to give her a hug.

‘I am, I’m afraid, gotta open up shop early tomorrow,’ you pull back. ‘Come by the salon any time, my treat.’

Once the bride is out of earshot, you turn to Frankie, hands on hips. ‘Alright, no more shirking, Morales. Get your ass back in there, your mother is on my case again.’

He folds his arms across his chest. ‘Oh no, I’m not going back in there without you.’

You sigh dramatically. ‘Am I the only one in this town who’s not scared of your mother?’

‘You should be,’ he snorts, then nods towards the parking lot. ‘C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.’

Taken aback by his offer, you hesitate. ‘Um - I thought you were the designated driver for the guys tonight.’

He brushes off your concerns with an easy shrug. ‘I’ll come back to get them after I drop you off.’ 

Typical Frankie - he walks off without even glancing back to see if you’re coming with him.

You smile to yourself and follow.

You must be drunker than you realised, because you’re staring. Again. For what must be the fifth time in the ten-minute drive.

It’s a lot of staring, even for you.

His jacket lies abandoned in the backseat, his tie jostled loose and the top two buttons of his shirt unfastened, sleeves bunched up to his elbows. You watch from the corner of your eye as his left hand grips the top of the steering wheel steady, fingers flexing every now and then on straight stretches of road.

As if you’re not already discreetly squeezing your thighs together, he’s also rubbing his right palm idly on his leg, the innocent rustle of fabric against skin getting you far too hot and bothered under the metaphorical collar. 

And then - your eyes trail higher - settling on the heavy bulge at the top of his spread thighs.

Fuck. You’re definitely drunk.

You mull silently to yourself that you actually prefer him in his beat-up jeans and threadbare t-shirts before catching yourself. You weren’t aware you had any preferences when it comes to Frankie Morales. And you have no business doing so.

Clearing your throat, you break the tense silence. Well, tense for you, anyway. He seems completely oblivious to your inner strife.

‘I’m sorry you didn’t win the bet.’

His lips quirk, but he keeps his eyes on the road.

‘I had another five girls lined up for you, you know.’

He scoffs. ‘No, thank you.’

You reach over to punch him on the arm playfully. ‘C’mon, you know you enjoyed the attention, Morales.’

‘You don’t know me very well, do you?’ he peers at you.

You make a face of disbelief. ‘If you hated it that much, why did you go along with it?’

Cruising into your street, his truck rolls to a smooth stop outside your salon. Frankie kills the ignition, then turns towards you. His answer is simple, and hits you right between the ribs. 

‘Because you wanted me to.’

You force a chuckle in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. ‘Since when did you care about what I wanted?’

He smooths his palm over the steering wheel and holds your gaze. ‘Sometime when I wasn’t looking.’

It would be simpler to pretend you didn’t understand what he means. To brush off this pull between you as a champagne-induced episode that you could sleep off. If you did, you could still show up at Tuesday nights drinks next week as if nothing has changed, and carry on.

It would be simpler. So you ask -

‘Do you want to come in for a nightcap?’

Frankie follows two steps behind you as you grapple with the keys on the doorstep. Once inside, the salon is quiet, and you strategically turn on the lights by the backwash, the semi-darkness making it more homey than it would have been if fully lit up. 

‘I would invite you upstairs -’ you pause and add hastily, ‘I don’t mean upstairs like, upstairs in that way - it’s just that my apartment is tiny, and the backwash is the closest thing I have to a couch. Are you okay with beer?’

‘Beer’s good, thanks,’ he answers. ‘Need a hand?’

You shake your head vehemently. ‘Oh god, please no - it’s a disaster upstairs. I’ll be right back.’

The rickety stairs creak loudly under your heels, and once you let yourself into your studio, you fall back heavily on the door, taking a second to catch your breath.

You invited him inside. 

He said yes.

You leap into action, shoving all your dirty laundry into the already full hamper. You try not to think too hard about why you’re cleaning up, you just hope you’re not making too much of a ruckus while you’re at it - because you have a boy waiting for you downstairs. 

Francisco Morales, of all people.

Despite having been in each other’s lives since high school, you’re pretty sure you’ve never been alone with him. Not even once. There’s always a buffer with Pope on his side, Benny on yours, and Will in the middle. And while some find Frankie hard to read, you’ve always known exactly how to act around him. You have an unwritten playbook - you bait him with cheap jokes, more often than not joining forces with Benny to gang up on him. He rolls his eyes and snaps at you to shut up. It’s the longest running show in town.

But this? Alone, after his ex’s wedding, in your salon? You’re going off-script and off-piste. Dangerous enough on a good day; outright stupid after a night of drinking.

Frankie is quick to help when you reappear, armed with beer and a bag of ice, using the backwash sink as a makeshift cooler. Your shoes clatter onto the floor as you settle in the chair next to his. Hugging your knees, you hold out your bottle, which he clinks with his.

‘Did you have fun tonight?’ you ask, rather mundanely.

‘As much fun as one is expected to have at an ex’s wedding,’ he answers with a sardonic smile. Taking a sip of beer, he adds, ‘Gotta admit, you winding up my ma pretty much made up for it.’

‘That never gets old,’ you smirk. ‘Although, I promised your mother you’d leave with your future wife tonight - so that’s a bust.’

You startle when Frankie chokes on his beer, his eyes visibly watering as he thumps a fist on his chest. When you ask if he’s ok, he won’t meet your gaze, downing more of his beer.

Not thinking anything of it, you move on. ‘You know, she sent a bunch of customers my way when I first opened up the salon.’

His voice is still a bit tight from his coughing fit. ‘And I’m sure she’ll deny it till the day she dies.’

‘I can’t figure her out,’ you admit. ‘I can’t decide if she hates me or not.’

‘She doesn’t hate you. She just doesn’t understand you.’

You hum, unconvinced.

He nudges your knee with his. ‘She was really proud of you when you opened the salon, you know.’

You toss him a sidelong glance. ‘You talk to your mum about me?’

He’s ambiguous in his answer. ‘She asks after you sometimes.’

‘And how would you have anything to say to her? We’re not exactly bosom buddies.’

Frankie concedes with a wry smile, ‘Benny talks.’

‘Ha!’ you laugh, echoing his words from a few days ago back at him. ‘Benjamin fucking Miller.’

He goes quiet for a second, looking around your salon as if taking stock. ‘It’s pretty amazing that you’ve built all this.’

The unexpected compliment catches you blindsided. You reply diplomatically, ‘Ashton helps me loads.’

Frankie’s eyes widen in feigned surprise. ‘Are you going humble on me now? What have you done to Shiv?’

‘Shut up,’ you grumble good-naturedly, adding, ‘Ben tells me you’re doing really well yourself.’

‘Yeah. I got promoted at work last month, and I’m saving up for a house,’ he replies, a hint of pride in his voice. ‘Things are looking up.’

‘You’re actually acknowledging your achievements?’ you gasp in mock outrage. ‘What have you done to Francisco Morales?’

With a shrug, he leans forward to put his empty beer bottle in the sink, but he doesn’t sit back. Instead, he sways even closer, one palm landing on the leather of your seat next to your knee, eyes darting to your lips. His voice is deep as he rasps, ‘Can I kiss you?’

It would be so easy to say yes, but when have you ever made things easy for yourself? 

Instead, you blurt out, ‘Why?’

Frankie looks amused, like he expected this from you. Slowly, not wanting to spook you, he gently plucks the beer that you’ve barely drunk from your grasp.

‘Because all fucking night, while you were throwing woman after woman at me, I just wanted to have a drink with you.’

He leans in close. 

You stop breathing.

‘Because since Wednesday, every time I wash my hair, I get hard thinking of you touching me.’

Closer still.

Your lungs ache.

‘And because when you told me to go harder, deeper - I nearly lost my fucking mind.’

He’s hovering over you now, and you can almost taste the bitter sweetness of the beer on his breath. He smirks at you, but there’s only warmth and mischief in it when he teases, ‘Speechless for once?’

‘Shut up, Morales,’ you breathe and grab him by the collar of his shirt.

And then you’re kissing him. You’re kissing Frankie, and he’s kissing you back.

It’s messy, and disorientating, and you clumsily fumble over each other until he’s sitting up in one of the chairs, with your thighs on either side of his narrow hips as you straddle him. He’s licking up into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, his hands gripping your sides almost painfully hard.

‘Is this really happening?’ you garble into his lips, ripping off his tie and undoing his shirt buttons as fast as your shaking fingers allow you to.

‘If you want it,’ he mumbles back, loath to pull back from you even for a second to shuck off his shirt. ‘If you want me.’

He kisses you wet and insistent, but he doesn’t push you, waiting for you to make up your mind. Reaching behind you, you tug on the tie that holds your jumpsuit together with a decisive pull, letting the fabric ripple down your bare front and pool around your waist.

Frankie bites his bottom lip so hard it goes white. ‘Fuck,’ he cusses, his grip on your hips twitching as he stares at your tits. ‘Can I, please -?’

‘Touch me, Francisco.’

Your poor second-hand Ikea bed that Benny helped set up when you moved in was not made for this.

This being the way Frankie effortlessly tosses you onto the mattress, his arms flexing with an easy strength that goes straight to your head, as you stare giddily up at him.

His hair - your handiwork - has been well and truly undone, errant strands falling over his eyes as he watches you, his broad frame looming over the foot of the bed. He pulls at his belt, which falls open with a careless clink, and he makes quick work of his now crumpled trousers, kicking them off impatiently.

Your head is swimming, yet somehow, you muster the strength to shuffle towards the edge of the bed, rearranging yourself to sit on your haunches, knees folded neatly beneath you. Boldly, you reach out to slide his dark boxers down his hips, and they fall around his knees and onto the floor. His cock springs free, half-hard and heavy, and Frankie swallows thickly as you tilt your face towards him.

‘I want to suck your cock.’

His eyes close as if he’s in pain, nostrils flaring at your words. Taking advantage of his distraction, you wrap one careful hand around his length, and he jerks violently at the first velvety slide of your palm against him. 

‘Fuck, Shiv -’ he chokes, eyes flying open at the contact, pupils completely blown. He protests weakly, ‘No, stop, need to get you off first -’

You shoot him a lopsided smile, pumping him slowly, your pulse racing at the way you feel him swell in your grasp. ‘Can we not argue this one time?’

You lean forward and, holding his gaze, flatten your tongue and lick your way up the underside of his cock. His breath stutters, one big hand moving to cradle the back of your head, his eyes wide and almost frantic as you press open-mouthed kisses on his sensitive flesh.

With an insolent grin, you tease, ‘You’re a big boy, aren’t you, Morales?’

He whimpers, and you know you have him.

His size is obvious by sight, but you really feel it in the pressure bearing down on the hinge of your jaw as you sink down on his cock, fighting to squeeze the girth of him into your mouth. The guttural groan from Frankie makes your pussy clench, and he tastes like he looks - clean, and all man. 

There’s no way you can take all of him, but you’ll be damned if you don’t try. He’s hot under your touch, muscles pulled taut with tension that you can feel thrumming under his skin as you take your time with him. Focusing on your breathing and relaxing your throat, you bob patiently up and down on him, slicking up his length with your spit, working him slightly deeper with every stroke - until you’re so full of him that you gag, hard.

Frankie is slack-jawed when you release him with an obscenely wet pop, spit trailing from your lips to the swollen tip of his cock, eyes wild as swipes his thumb across your puffy bottom lip. 

‘You’re beautiful,’ he declares, almost solemnly.

Slinking down his front, one hand securely around the base of his cock, you take him between your lips again, moaning at the salty taste of his precum, which makes him quake above you. As you swallow his length and pump your fist in tandem, your spit wetting your fingers, you peer up at him through your lashes - nothing could’ve prepared you for the utter wreckage that you find on his face. 

His lips are pulled back, baring his tidy teeth into a snarl as he very clearly struggles to hold himself back from fucking your mouth. You feel every bump and vein in his cock with each descent, the wet squelches filling in the gaps of his low grunts and moans. His grip in your hair stings as he starts panting in earnest above you, and somehow he gets even harder on your tongue, making it harder to breathe - 

‘Stop, stop,’ he wheezes suddenly, pulling back in a hasty retreat that has you whining at the sudden loss of him. ‘C’mere.’

He practically hauls you up against him, kissing you deeply, delving into your mouth to taste the bitterness of himself on your tongue. The world tilts on its axis when he tips you back onto the bed, and holding himself above you, he peels the jumpsuit off, leaving you in just your panties.

‘Gonna eat you out, baby,’ he drawls by your ear, trailing one palm up your body, which stops at your tits and squeezes. ‘Get you good and ready to take my big cock. How does that sound?’

‘Fuck, yes, Frankie, please,’ you beg.

There’s no shyness when he pushes your legs up and apart, and instead of taking your panties off, he hooks a finger under the thin fabric and pulls it to the side, his eyes darkening as he stares down at you.

‘So pretty,’ he praises you lowly. Holding your breath as he sinks onto his front, you breathe heavily in anticipation as his shoulders slot neatly underneath your legs. ‘Look at how wet you are for me. All this from sucking my cock?’

You nod frantically. ‘Frankie -’

Straight to the point as always, he ducks his dark head and drags the broad of his tongue over your clit - and you’re gone.

Admittedly, you have not had the best experiences with your exes. There was always too much gratuitous moaning and too little finesse, and afterwards, they always act like they deserve a medal for failing to get you off. But even if your past lovers had been more adequate in the field, you’re sure it still wouldn’t have prepared you for this. 

Frankie goes about it with a quiet focus that veers on reverential, the intensity in his dark eyes watching you makes your knees weak. He’s obviously picking up signs and reactions from you and adjusting his game plan accordingly, the pilot in him clearly in the driver’s seat. 

Not that he’s silent - far from it, you feel the reverberation in your core with every satisfied  hum deep in his chest, and the occasional, muttered fuck, so wet, want more in between licks and groans. But there’s nothing performative or showy about it, just a forthright competency that has you hurtling towards a toe-curling orgasm.

‘Frankie,’ you whine when you feel it about to hit. ‘Frankie Frankie Frankie -’

‘Eyes on me,’ he slurs against your sopping folds, and you listen - for once - watching him watch you fall apart on his tongue, thrashing in his hold as he grips you harder to keep you in place while he laps you up, until the burn of his patchy beard on your inner thighs makes you arch away from him from overstimulation.

Your pussy is still fluttering when he sinks two thick fingers into you, and he hisses at the way it clenches around him as he fucks you, leaving his digits slicked and slippery.

‘So tight, baby,’ he declares through gritted teeth, working you open for him. ‘Gonna feel so fucking good on my cock.’

You point towards the nightstand. ‘First drawer,’ you pant.

Needing no further prompting, Frankie yanks your panties off and flings the soaked scrap of fabric over his shoulder, then lunges at the cupboard where the condoms are. You scrape your nails over his thighs as he kneels over you, his usually steady hands visibly trembling as he tears into the wrapper and rolls the rubber over his heavy cock. He watches you with hooded eyes and settles between your legs, kissing you desperately as the swollen tip of him nudges at your entrance.

‘Ready?’ he asks, nose skimming yours sweetly.

You wind your arms around his neck, holding him close. ‘Fuck me, Frankie.’

The first push is a tight squeeze, and you can’t help the wince at the slight pinch as he sinks into you slowly. With a grunt of effort, he buries face into the slope of your neck and breathes, ‘Fuuuuck. You ok?’

‘Give me a second,’ you gasp, feeling your walls throb tightly around his length. ‘You’re so big, Frankie.’

He tangles his tongue with yours lazily in a deep kiss, before brushing his way down your throat and sucking on one nipple, making you cry out. He murmurs against your skin, ‘I know, but you’re doing so well for me, baby.’

Shifting your hips, Frankie groans when you slide him in deeper, the friction making you quiver beneath him. ‘Move, Frankie, please.’

He starts carefully, his strokes measured and deliberate, making sure you feel every inch of him as he draws back then sinks back in, exhaling shakily. ‘You feel so fucking good.’

‘Harder,’ you demand when you feel your pussy relax around him. ‘Fuck me harder.’

‘Shit,’ he growls and snaps his hips, drawing a squeal from you as he hits somewhere deep inside. You wrap your legs around his waist, bracing yourself as he drives into you again and again and again, the bedframe hitting the wall with each thrust.

‘So good, Frankie,’ you plead in between hard pants. ‘Keep going. Don’t stop -’

Looking up at him, you admire the way his hair falls over his eyes, swaying with his movement. Absent-mindedly, your fingers wander into his curls and his reaction is instant - he cries out, arching into your touch, his hips faltering as he seems to lose his rhythm. ‘Oh fuck, baby, been thinking about those hands all fucking week, just wanted to feel you touch me again -’

As wrecked as you are on his cock, you smile at his confession and slide your hands languidly in his locks, dragging your nails on his scalp, your chest swelling with pride when you watch his face - dazed and completely wrecked - fucking you so hard that you’re sure the bed is about to break.

When he finds his voice again, it’s your real name that slips past his lips. ‘Gonna cum so hard, oh fuck - I’m gonna -’

Frankie’s thrusting frantically into you, eyes screwed shut until his hips stutter and then - after one perfect moment of stillness suspended in time - shudder after shudder thunder through his body, your name a broken record as he spills into the condom, his scratchy baritone moaning into your neck as the frenzied energy bleeds out of him.

His weight pins you to the bed as he catches his breath, and you play with his curls gently, basking in the rumbling purr in his chest as you run the strands between your fingers. Eventually, gathering himself, he rolls off you to let you breathe, tying the condom neatly and tossing it into the trash can.

For a second, Frankie lies on his side, watching you quietly. You watch him back, casting your gaze over the curls stuck to his sweaty forehead and his broad outline backlit by your nightstand light. Before self-consciousness can settle into the small distance between you, he cracks a smile and quips, ‘You did say I’d get laid even if it killed you.’

You laugh, which makes him grin. One strong arm reaches out to tuck you into his side, securely beneath the duvet. You hum at the tickle of his beard on the back of your neck and the steady rise and fall of his chest behind you.

Right on the cusp of sleep, you sass, ‘Guess you’ll have to split the winnings with me after all.’

Any other day, you would’ve woken up if you heard someone on the stairwell. Hell, you’d hear if they were knocking on the salon door downstairs.

When you’re rudely shaken awake by frantic knocking on the studio door, you realise it’s because your hearing has been impaired by the side of a very warm body smooshed into your ear.

‘Shiv! Open up! I need to leave in fifteen minutes for my photoshoot!’

‘Shit,’ you croak, throat dry, limbs flailing as you try to sit up. ‘I forgot about Benny.’

‘Fuck him’, grouses Frankie, pulling you back into his arms, eyes still closed.

‘I can’t, I promised to help him with his hair. Fuck, do we need to hide you, or -’

‘The door’s thin, Shiv, I can hear him. And we put two and two together when you guys disappeared last night. We're pretty, but we ain't dumb!’

Frankie lets you go with a grumbled Benjamin fucking Miller under his breath, but he visibly perks up when you stumble out of bed naked.

You half-jokingly shield your boobs from his view. ‘Are you perving on me, Morales?’

He smirks, leaning back into the pillows with his hands folded behind his head while he eyes you appreciatively. It’s not fair how his triceps flex deliciously with the movement. ‘Why bother covering up? I’ve seen everything already.’

Trying - and failing - to shoot him a stern scowl, you pull on a robe and yank the door open, nearly careening backwards at the sight of Benny’s grinning face right in the doorway. 

‘Since when did you bang paying customers?’ he demands in lieu of a good morning.

You roll your eyes and usher him downstairs. ‘He’s not a paying customer. He’s on Pope’s tab.’

Benny flops into his usual chair, making it squeak, one eyebrow up as he does the air quotes. ‘Well, I guess we now know what kind of friends you guys are.’

‘Shut up, Miller,’ you gripe, but your mouth twists into a grin, giving you away as you set up.

‘Damn, that good, huh?’ he laughs. ‘I mean, Fish does have a rep, but I've never had insider confirmation.’

You point your styling scissors at him menacingly. ‘Shut up, or I won’t be held responsible if my hands slip by accident.’

Benny feeds you a sugar donut while you work quickly, trimming the ends before styling it, going for a tousled bed head look. You hear the water pipes run upstairs and the carpeted floors creak when Frankie gets up. Trying to play it cool, you only briefly glance up, catching a glimpse of him in the mirror as he makes his way down the stairs in his rumpled shirt and trousers, zipping up the fly when he reaches the bottom.

‘Morning, stud,’ sing-songs Benny, which earns him a slap on the head. ‘Ow! What the fuck, Shiv!’

Frankie loiters behind you for a second, scratching the back of his neck, before pulling you to one side. Not that it affords you much privacy anyway, with Benny wriggling his eyebrows impertinently at the two of you in the mirror.

‘I - uh -,’ he starts haltingly, one hand rubbing at the silver patch in his beard sheepishly. ‘I had a really good time last night.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ you smile.

His voice dipping lower, he asks, ‘Can I take you out to dinner sometime?’

Benny, being the shithead that he is, interjects loudly. ‘Hey lovebirds, I’m kind of on the clock here, if you don’t mind -’

‘She’ll get to you when she gets to you, Benjamin,’ snaps Frankie, one hand on his hip and the other pointing a stern finger at him.

Something about him being so assertive sends heat running up and down your spine. Stepping into his space - beaming when he doesn’t back away - you smooth a palm over the front of his shirt, unintentionally catching the rabbiting of his heart underneath.

‘I don’t know,’ you shrug nonchalantly. ‘Do you intend to come back as a cash-paying customer?’

His eyes flash with want, one hand closing around your hip and he leans down to let his heated words brush by your ear. ‘Not if I can keep paying in other ways.’

Reaching up, you run a hand through his curls, preening at the way he closes his eyes at your touch. ‘Alright then, take me to dinner, Francisco.’

Peering around you, Frankie barks, ‘Miller, I’m cashing in on our bet.’

‘Fuck’s sake. I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,’ he gripes, digging into his wallet reluctantly.

Swiping the bill from Benny, Frankie winks at you before pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth - chaste, but charged with meaning. ‘Looks like you paid for your own dinner, Shiv.’

With a roll of your eyes, you shake your head and playfully push him towards the door. ‘Get outta here before I change my mind!’

‘Yeah right - as if you would now that you know what you’ll be missing.’

You’re not sure which makes your jaw drop - his cocksure declaration or the roguish confidence with which he walks out the door. In either case, Benny howls with laughter as you struggle to stay on your feet, your kneecaps having been rendered completely useless.

Just as Frankie climbs into his truck, Ashton whistles to a stop outside the salon on his wheels. Jaw dropping at the sight of the disheveled pilot nodding at him through the windscreen, he abandons his bike right on the curb and dashes into the salon, the door banging against the wall as he rushes in.

‘Excuse me - what the fuck did I just miss?’ he demands frantically.

You roll your eyes. ‘Calm down, Ashton, it’s not what it looks like -’

‘It’s exactly what it looks like,’ interrupts Benny as he starts singing. ‘Shiv and Frankie sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-’

He breaks off with a yelp when you stuff a donut into his mouth to shut him up, sugar flying everywhere as Ashton picks you up and spins you around, squealing like a banshee the entire time.

‘You guys are the fucking worst,’ you laugh, out of breath by the time Ashton lets you go.

Glancing outside, where Frankie is still parked watching the whole embarrassing episode, he gives you one last wink and an amused grin before he pulls away from the curb.

In an almost exact repeat of the scene from a few days ago, Ashton joins you at the window, and the two of you watch, shoulder to shoulder, as Frankie smoothly steers his truck out of your street.

‘He even drives sexy,’ sighs Ashton dreamily. Nudging you in the side, he adds slyly, ‘You’re in so much trouble, Shiv.’

You grin. You know you are - and luckily, it’s not a spot of bother that you’ll be in a hurry getting out of anytime soon.

Notes: I'm so excited to have finally completed this little two-shot. The two of them have been hanging out in my head all these months, it feels amazing to finally yeet this part into the world! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you had as much fun as I did with these two 🥰 Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated ❤️

Now that I've got you here, if you want more of Shiv, I wrote some silly little drabbles of her hair appointments with our handsome Pedro boys for a recent milestone celebration. There are also some fun thoughts that came out of an impromptu Grays sleepover we had last week 🤍

I'm sure we'll see more of Shiv and Frankie somewhere down the line. For now, thank you again, I love you all so much ❤️

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

My Favorite Addiction (Drabble)

Pairing: Javier Peña x gn! reader

Summary: Your only addiction is the sight of Javier Peña in the morning

Word Count: 794 

Warnings: Mention of smut, Mentions of drugs and drug trafficking, I think that’s it but let me know if there is anything else. Just in case MINORS DNI

Notes: Just the idea of waking up next to this man would not leave me so I thought might as well put it down! Very excited to start writing more. This is the first thing I post here so aaaaaa let me know thoughts. 

If you had one addiction it was to the sight of Javier Peña in the morning. You always woke up before him and got to see perhaps the only moments when this man was fully relaxed. He was all golden skin, broad shoulders, and messy curls.

It hadn’t always been like this. The first messy encounters you had with Peña didn’t lead to morning afters where you got to stare at his sleeping figure. The first times were all supposed to be the last. You accidentally went to the same party, you accidentally ended up in the same bar, you accidentally were rooming in the same hotel. All with the same ending of you quickly dressing and leaving Peña, checking every corner to see if no one saw you. No one could see you. Pablo Escobar’s accountant couldn’t be sleeping with a DEA agent.

And yet it became an addiction. The more you tried to resist it the more you found Peña’s arms. No one fucked you like he did. Your second favorite view was the look of concentration mixed with pleasure as you two fucked to the soundtrack of your screams. God, Javier Peña was the best lay you ever had and you were enchanted.

You knew the dangers of it but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret that first night in a dim lit club far away from Escobar’s prying eyes. His soft lips on yours, his hands finding your bare skin, his arousal making itself known against your legs, his soft curls between your fingers. In retrospect, that was when you doomed yourself.

Javi slowly moves shifting to face you and rub the sleep from his eyes.

“Good morning.” He whispers in his raspy morning voice.

Another beautiful thing you just couldn’t get enough of.

“You staring at me again, cariño?”

As much as you tried to hide it he knew all your secrets. You still didn’t know why he wanted you to be an informant it felt like he could tell everything he needed to know from you without even asking.

“Guilty.” You whisper back as he makes his way to find your lips.

You kiss him back softly. The morning kisses are always different from the nights. Softness making way from the hunger. Comfort being drawn from the passion. You couldn’t decide what you liked best.

“Do you want to stay? Maybe go grab some breakfast. I’m off of work today.” Peña asks in a tone that sounds almost hopeful.

“I can’t, Javi. They’ll start wondering.”

You hate denying him. You hate having to leave. But after that first time, after you slept with Peña and was quickly escorted after to Pablo for him to explain exactly who you had just shared a bed with, you knew what you were getting into. This was the price for keeping Javier Peña.

“Escobar can fuck off.” Peña mutters protectively wrapping his arms around you.

“You know it’s not that simple.” You utter avoiding looking him in the eye.

Instead you choose to trace the veins in his arm. Trying to distract yourself from what you know comes next.

“Yeah. I know.” Javi utters. “I’m a death sentence.”

“One I signed willingly.” You joke opening a small smile.

He moves his hand to cup your cheek, brushing away a piece of hair that fell on your eyes. You look back up and meet his eyes. His eyes. You loved those eyes.

“I could take you away. I could put you somewhere he wouldn’t find you.” He pleads.

“We talked about this. He would find me. If not, he would kill my family.”

“You’re not even an informant.”

“Yeah, but you are the enemy. I’m supposed to stay away.”

“We could stop seeing each other.” Javi suggests scared you will actually say yes to it. You had in the past but it never stuck before. Nonetheless he fears.

“Sure. We could. But I would give us two weeks before one of us breaks and we are back here again.”

You laugh together with him before he returns to attack your lips.

Somehow enemy didn’t feel like the right title for him anymore. You couldn’t fit those words and the man you grew to know together in your head. You desperately wanted to, but you fell to his charms and you don’t think there’s any going back.

So instead you lay around with him a little longer. You kiss and hold each other until you finally get up and get dressed. Almost like routine you make your way out of his dingy apartment and back to your own. All the way the only thing in your mind continues to be how Javier Peña was the most addictive and dangerous drug you had come upon.

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