vlvttt

[vlvttt]

              —   BEFORE YOU BREAK MY HEART   !

summary: a pretty stranger comes to your rescue when you get stood up at a sandwich shop.

pairing: carmy berzatto / f!reader

contents: meet ugly, hurt/comfort, fluff, swearing, carmy has a crush, richie is a menace

( best listened with headphones, full playlist link here )

Carmy’s been wiping down the front counter for the past five minutes. At least. He’s more distracted by your figure across the room, sitting at the table in front of the large window, staring through the glass like you’re waiting to see something on the other side. You’ve been in the same spot for half an hour now, and that something hasn’t come yet.

Something about it is impossible to look away from. Like a car crash or something equally as harrowing. There’s something heartbreaking about your lonely form that breaks his own heart right back.

“You gonna tell her to get the hell outta here, cousin, or are you gonna keep ogling like a creep?” Richie wonders suddenly, leaning over Carmy’s shoulder to whisper obnoxiously close to his ear.

Carmy flinches. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he asks with his face screwed, lifting his elbow to nudge the taller man away.

“I said, are you gonna—”

“No, I— I heard you, Richie.”

“Then why’d you say ‘what?’”

“‘Cause you’re a fucking asshole, that’s why,” Carmy snaps and turns away. He tosses his dry rag over his shoulder and ducks past Richie to chuck the wet one in the sink. The older man follows behind him, hardly bothering to spare more than an inch of personal space between them.

“She’s taking up space here, cousin.”

“What are you even talking about? There’s nobody else in here.”

He steps to the side. Richie’s quick to block his path. His icy gaze hardens into a more serious look as he points a stern finger at the boy’s chest. Carmy’s eyes flit back and forth between his hand and his face, hardly intimidated. 

“Tell her to leave,” the man instructs in a strangely even voice. “Or I’m gonna make a fuckin’ scene.”

Carmy scoffs a faint laugh. “You’re such an idiot.”

“I mean it, cousin,” Richie continues, faltering when he realizes Carmy isn’t taking his authority seriously — and hasn’t since he was thirteen. He pokes the younger boy hard in the chest to prove a point. “I mean it,” the man echoes, all dramatic, before turning on his sneakers to head back into the kitchen.

Carmy rubs at his aching sternum with a tattooed hand and watches Richie leave — jostling the heavy mixer, the napkin tins, and the stainless steel cups as he goes. Creating as much noise as humanly possible. Making an entire fucking scene.

Carmy huffs when the silence finds him again, filled only by the radio Tina’s got playing. An unfamiliar song croons faintly overhead, soft and folksy. “I’m coming to the brink of a great disaster, the end just has to be near—” 

The quiet is deafening still.

The urge to say something to you weighs heavily upon him, and he isn’t quite sure why. He’s never felt quite so compelled to talk to anyone, much less a pretty stranger sitting by herself in his restaurant. But there’s something about you and your loneliness that threatens to drag the words out of him. 

He’s walking to your table before he realizes his feet are moving. He finds himself looming awkwardly at your table until he finds the courage to speak. Even then, all he can manage is a mumbled, “Hey,” as he twists the rag in his anxious hands.

You whip your head to face him and blink hard, like his presence has knocked you from the depths of your own mind. 

“Oh. Hi…” you waver, face screwed with something short of worry. You don’t realize until then how long you’ve been sitting alone in this restaurant — or how big of an idiot you are for waiting on someone who was never going to come. 

“Sorry to, uh, to bother you,��� Carmy mumbles, with his gaze pointed everywhere but at you. “But I— I noticed you’ve been here for a while and—”

“I’m sorry,” you squeak before he’s finished. “I’m waiting for someone— was waiting for someone, but… I’m pretty sure they aren’t gonna show, so…” 

You laugh awkwardly at yourself in a feeble attempt to relieve the pressure in your chest, then cower under the stranger’s sympathetic, ocean-eyed stare.

Carmy nods slowly with understanding, chestnut curls wild on his head. He forgets to show the emotion on his face, though. He just crosses his golden, tattooed arms over his chest and wonders bluntly, “Do you wanna order something?” 

He doesn’t realize how curt he sounds until you flinch at his words, like they’ve hit you physically somehow. “No, it’s okay,” you decline with a pretty smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. “I’ll just— I can just go— Sorry for wasting your time—”

You collect your belongings with panicked hands, your phone on the table and your tote bag propped on the chair beside you. You swing the strap over your shoulder and rise to full height, standing before the tall stranger. He towers over you still, and from the proximity, you can smell the cigarette and nicotine mixed on his breath. There’s musky cologne spritzed on his neck and something savory stained on his apron that makes you hungry.

Carmy holds his hands between you in surrender, light eyes going wide in a similar panic. “No, it’s— it’s okay, just— Let me get you some water before you go,” he offers kindly, remembering to smile this time, even though it wavers at the edges. “It’s fuckin’ hot out there, you know?” he chuckles awkwardly.

You hesitate for a moment, feeling too much like a burden to say yes.

“C’mon,” the stranger presses gently, with something pretty glittering in his crystalline eyes. “It’s free. And it’ll take me, like, two seconds tops. You’ll be outta here in no time.”

You take in a deep, trembling breath, then nod with a smile despite yourself. “Okay,” you murmur and sit down again.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Carmy promises as he walks backwards towards the kitchen. “Don’t go anywhere—”

Hidden in the depths of the kitchen, he works with fast and practiced hands. He attempts to make you a sandwich in the time it’d take him to bring you water — an impossible feat, even for the best chef this side of Chicago has ever seen. He works on autopilot and tries to remember the recipe off the top of his head, something Mikey had made a thousand lightyears ago that’s plagued him ever since.

He races for the ciabatta, passing Richie without realizing. “She finally order?” the man calls across the station.

Carmy barely hears him. “Mhm,” he mumbles vaguely, reaching frantically for the needed ingredients — salami, provolone, tomatoes, peppers, the whole nine. He packs them into the sandwich and glances at the clock every other second, praying you haven’t left yet.

“Good,” Richie nods, arms crossed as he leans against the counter. He feigns an air of authority and says, “Soliciting’s illegal, cousin. We need to put a sign on the door or some shit.”

“Loitering,” Carmy corrects distantly, slicing the sandwich into halves.

“What?”

“It’s loitering. Soliciting’s something completely different, fuck-o.”

“Same difference,” Richie laughs. “Who gives a shit?”

Carmy shakes his head and plates the sandwich into a to-go tray, resting one half over the other for a little extra flair. “Idiot,” the boy mumbles to Richie as he walks by him and out of the kitchen. The song follows him as he goes. “—Can you save her? Now she’s in the air, radical and free...”

He exhales a sigh of relief when he finds you sitting in the same spot he left you in, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. It’s his first good breath in several minutes. “Sorry it took me so long,” he pants as the double doors swing shut behind him. “Ice machine’s fucking up.”

“It’s okay,” you assure with a polite smile that ebbs slightly when he sets the plate of food in front of you — a sandwich, but not the kind you’re used to making, all lifeless with the cheapest ingredients you can muster. This one looks good, gourmet even, like he put a lot of care into such a simple thing. 

Your eyes widen briefly in surprise as you peer at the boy from beneath your lashes. “You didn’t have to…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Carmy shrugs, pretending to be casual about the whole thing despite his racing heart. He crosses his arms over his chest like it’ll slow his pulse. “On the house.”

“…Really?”

“Really,” Carmy nods with a breathy laugh. “C’mon. Try it. Before you break my heart.”

He smiles down at you, all shy and lopsided and half-hidden behind the hand he rubs over his chin. Something funny swirls in your stomach accordingly, which you’ll blame on the hunger instead, as you take the halved sandwich in hesitant hands. 

You bite gingerly in the corner, prepared to hate it and compliment it anyway. Then it melts effortlessly into your mouth, a symphony of differing tastes that somehow work perfectly together. You deflate with a contented sigh, making a concerted effort not to moan when it hits your grumbling stomach.

Carmy watches with wide, attentive eyes and tries to gauge your reaction. “Good?” he wonders anxiously.

You nod slowly with the bite still wadded in your cheek. “Really good,” you correct with your hand over your mouth. 

He exhales a relieved sigh, nodding to himself with his hands on his hips. “Good… I’ve been wanting to put it on the menu so… That makes me feel better.”

“Seriously?” you blurt.

“Seriously,” Carmy echoes. “I just thought that, you know, you could use somethin’ a little special, all things considered…”

He watches his attempt to comfort you crash and burn right in front of him. Your small smile fades at the reminder of being stood up. You swallow hard and deflate with a heavy breath. Carmy stumbles over himself as he rushes to apologize. 

“Shit. Sorry. I was— I was trying to make you feel better, and I… I just totally fucked it up, didn’t I? Shit...”

He gets all regretful in a way that makes his face twist like a puppy. Something about his tenderness quells the tight feeling in your chest. 

“It’s okay. Really. I usually hate dates anyway, but, uh…” you trail off, grimacing when you decide to be honest. “My entire paycheck went to bills, and I thought I could score some free food out of it.”

The brunette boy smiles all over again. “Guess it still worked out for you, huh?”

“Guess so…” you hum and smile at his smiling, cheeks burning under his gaze. “It didn’t hurt my feelings or anything, you know, getting stood up. Not really— Well, it kinda did, but… I’ll get over it… Probably.”

“Well, whoever left you at this shithole’s an idiot,” Carmy tells you, only partly joking when he says, “Matter of fact, give me a name, and I’ll ban ‘em for life.”

He means every word, but it makes you laugh anyway. The light and airy, sunshine-incarnate sound makes his chest go fuzzy. “I’m serious,” Carmy insists with his own laugh. “Fuck that guy.”

You feel oddly comforted by this stranger and the kindness in his words. Maybe because he’s far kinder than the idiot you were planning on seeing today — and far prettier, too, but that goes without saying.

“Well, thanks for the gesture. And the free sandwich— which should definitely be on the menu, by the way.”

Carmy scoffs a faint laugh. “Yeah, well, tell my cousin that,” he jokes and tosses a brief glance over his shoulder. He does a double-take when he catches Richie peeking through the window behind the double doors, trying to be inconspicuous and failing. “What the hell are you doing?” Carmy calls to him.

Richie falters, realizing he’d been caught. “You wanna stop makin’ moves on our customers and do your job, cousin?” he calls back, half-muffled in the kitchen.

“Jesus Christ,” Carmy huffs, then turns back around to you, softening with a heavy sigh. “Sorry— I’m sorry about him. He’s… an idiot.”

“It’s okay,” you grin. “He seems nice.”

“He isn’t,” he deadpans.

You laugh again. “I should probably go, anyway,” you murmur and rise to collect your things. You swing your tote bag over your shoulder with one hand and balance the to-go tray in the other. “Thanks for the food. And for being so nice.”

Carmy ducks away from your tender gaze. His chestnut curls fall over his forehead as his golden skin glows red. “Don’t mention it,” he mumbles politely and walks with you towards the entrance. The door dings over his head when he opens it for you. “Come back, alright?” he tells you plainly, though it feels more like a plea.

“Only if you get this sandwich on the menu,” you quip.

Carmy nods once. “On it.”

You part from him with a pretty smile. Carmy stands in the open door and watches you stroll down the worn sidewalk. He cranes his head when you threaten to disappear in the bustling crowd, praying silently that you’ll turn around to look at him again.

He barely realizes when Richie appears at his side. “What are you so goddamn weepy about over here?” the man laughs, following his gaze down the road. Richie catches you nearing the corner and tilts his head with a slow nod. “Damn. I’d cry about an ass like that, too, cousin.”

Carmy nudges him away with his elbow. “Get— Get the fuck off of me, Richie,” he snaps.

Richie only laughs harder. “What?!” he exclaims, taking an obvious pleasure in annoying the younger boy.

That’s when you look back — right before you turn the corner, right when Carmy’s shoving Richie away like a child. 

There’s something magnetic in your gaze that pulls Carmy’s eyes right towards you. He falters under the glimmer in your eye and the wide smile you cage between your teeth. It makes his stomach do a backflip and the rest of the world slow around him. He isn’t sure if he deserves to be looked at so tenderly, but he warms under your gaze nonetheless.

He blinks, and you’re gone again. He feels your absence like a punch to the stomach, or a missed meal that’s left him achingly empty. He isn’t sure why. He only knows that there is something unavoidably special about you.

But now you’re gone. And Carmy’s doomed.

[vlvttt]

[3.2k] sometimes all you need is a pep talk or two from your nosy captain to finally have the balls to do something about your practically non-existent love life. and sometimes that comes in the form of plagiarised romcom monologues and poorly timed heart-to-hearts.

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It had been over two weeks since his conversation with Nico, meaning it had been over two weeks since he decided that he really wanted you to stay in his life—regardless of whether it was as a friend, a fuckbuddy or something more. 

Though, considering the silence on your side, he assumed the last two options weren’t really available anymore. Not that he cared too much, he just really wanted you back in his life in some way. In whatever way you would take him. 

The issue was that despite his newfound determination to sort out everything between the two of you, Luke still had little to no luck actually getting through to you. Partially because he was still away on the roadie with the team, trying to pretend like the break hadn’t made him feel rusty in his own skates. And also partially because you were still not answering his messages. 

Luke was pretty sure he was bordering on truly pathetic with how many texts he had sent over the last two weeks.

But then the team were flying back to New Jersey for a long home stint and Luke knew he had to act, that he had to finally do something instead of letting himself agonise over it every waking second. March was approaching and the last thing he wanted was for his on-ice performance to tank along with his social life outside of hockey. 

So, Luke did the only rational thing he could think of to gain your attention and finally get you to return one of his calls. 

It happened the day after they flew back. He was half-asleep, exhausted from a rough practice that had muscles in his body aching that he didn’t even know he could strain. His face was squished against his pillow, seconds away from falling asleep when the shrill of his phone ringing had his head snapping up. 

He threw his hand out, aimlessly smacking around until his fingers curled around his phone and pulled the screen towards his face so he could see who was calling (probably Jack, despite the fact he was only three floors away at Nico’s place) and decide whether he wanted to answer (definitely not).

A zap of adrenaline rushed through him when he saw your contact name on his screen instead. 

It took a solid thirty seconds for him to realise he was not, in fact, dreaming and that you were, in fact, calling him. He stumbled to sit up as he answered the call, lifting the phone to his ear with a bated breath. 

“Since when were ‘make your own charcuterie board’ sets a thing that existed?” 

Luke couldn’t hold back the smile that grew on his face at the sound of your voice—the first time he had heard it since that night—and felt as though a weight had been lifted off his chest. 

“Since there was a fancy cheese store downtown that put flyers in the airport,” Luke replied, hoping his voice sounded as even as it did in his head. 

“Luke,” you sighed, and maybe he was delusional enough to think it sounded fond. “Why did you send me this?” 

“Because the shark slippers, balloon animal making book and dinosaur speaker didn’t make you phone,” he blurted out, his cheeks turning pink at his own admission. In his defence, it was his last—and most desperate—effort to get your attention when the text messages didn’t. And he really did think the balloon animal making guidebook would have been the one to make you break. 

There was a pause before you spoke. “I must have missed your calls, my bad.” 

“Cherry,” Luke swallowed back the flash of hurt and embarrassment that had been lingering in the pit of his stomach since that morning he woke up alone. “Listen, about that night—” 

“Luke, it’s fine.” 

“No, it really isn’t—” 

“Luke.” Your voice was softer this time, and it made him freeze. “It’s fine, I get it.” 

His brows furrowed together. “You do?” 

“I do.” There was some shuffling on the other side of the phone. “It was an emotional experience and you were lost in the moment. It happens to the best of us. People say shit they don’t mean all the time when they are high off an orgasm and just not really thinking straight.”

And for a moment, Luke could only just sit there as he processed your words. He wanted to blurt out that you were wrong, that it might have been an emotional moment and maybe he wasn’t thinking straight but he meant what he said. He wasn’t some bumbling virgin who was spouting shit for the sake of it. He wanted to tell you that he wasn’t apologising for what he said, more so the time and place he said it. 

“You still ignored me for three weeks though,” Luke ended up saying instead because he couldn’t quite bring himself to string together the rest of his thoughts. Because maybe—just fucking maybe—he had a fear that you would hang up before he could even begin to explain the mess inside his head since the night you left. 

There was another pause. “I didn’t want to bother you too much, with hockey and all going on. You said it gets busy this time in the season, right?” 

“Bullshit,” Luke retorted instantly. “We have been hanging out all season with no problem.” 

“Luke—” 

“Look, I’m sorry the way things turned out that day but I—” He took a moment to breathe, his lungs burning a little with a gasping breath. “I wish you just stayed so we could talk it out instead of you ignoring me for the last few weeks.” He paused a few moments before continuing. “I’ve missed you, Cherry.” 

“Oh,” was all you could respond with. 

For a delusional second, Luke thought this was it. He thought that this would be the moment everything would bridge together, that misunderstandings would be understood and he would get some normalcy back in his life, that he would get you back in his life. For a moment, he thought it was really as easy as Nico and his pep-talk made it out to be. 

“Then, we’ll be friends. All you had to do was ask, Luke. I’d never hold that night over your head like that.” 

Luke’s hope died as quickly as it flared up. “Cherry–”

“Look, I have to go but…talk soon, yeah?” 

You hung up before he could say anything. And somehow, Luke was left feeling worse about the whole situation than he did before the call. 

…

Over the following days, he couldn’t shake the conversation from his head. 

On the bright side, you were at least talking to him again. But it was all half-hearted conversations through text messages that made him feel like he was talking to some distant relative or old childhood friend rather than you. Everything felt stilted and awkward and forced. 

He hated it. He almost preferred the silence. 

This wasn’t you, this wasn’t how the two of you were. 

Evidently, Luke’s mood about the whole thing was clear to the boys on the team. John seemed to be sticking to him more often than not during practices, even prompting conversations he knew would usually get Luke going off on a tangent. He had more than a handful of awkward family dinner invites from Palat and Haula. Even Curtis seemed to be taking pity on him. 

The only person who wasn’t acting differently was Jack. He tended to stay clear of mentioning your name, but it hadn’t stopped him from making countless virgin jokes since the game in Vancouver. 

“I need to catch up, dude. It’s, like, the only way to keep the universe balanced.” 

But despite the team’s worry, Luke thought he was doing a fairly good job at insisting he was more than okay. He really thought he wasn’t letting it show on his on-ice performance at all. He was clearly mistaken when he got cornered by Nico at practice, pulling the captain rank to demand that Luke join him for lunch. Though, Nico’s demands were more like very polite insisting paired with big, brown cow eyes you couldn’t say no to.

So, obviously Luke couldn’t say no to the cow eyes or the free food.

Nico, the polite captain he was, at least waited until Luke had made a decent dent in his Chipotle before he shifted the conversation. 

“So,” Nico took a sip from his drink. “Were things as fucked as you thought they were?” 

Luke paused mid-bite, giving Nico an inquisitive look.

“With the relationship stuff we spoke about in Edmonton,” Nico continued, keeping his expression as casual as he could.

Luke’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Are you asking as a captain or as Jack’s secret spy?” 

To his credit, Nico just snorted. “Despite contrary belief, I can keep secrets and gossip from your brother.” 

Luke didn’t look very convinced. 

“I’m serious though,” Nico said, lightly nudging Luke’s leg under the table with his foot. “You can talk to me, if you want. No pressure. I’ve just noticed you have been a little more in your own head during practices since we got back from the roadie.” 

Luke sighed, shifting his gaze down to his bowl as he pushed the food around with his fork. “I don’t know.” 

A crease formed between Nico’s brows. “You don’t know?” 

“We are talking again,” Luke said. 

Nico brightened a little. “That’s good.”

“But I think it’s worse than before,” Luke quickly added, watching the way Nico’s mood deflated a little with a bitter sense of familiarity. “She just…seems to have made her own opinion on what happened. And I don’t know how to tell her she’s wrong. Or at least, that’s not how I see it.” 

“You don’t think she would listen?” Nico asked, a contemplative look on his face. It was similar to the one he wore during time-outs, when he was discussing plays and tactics with the coaches. 

“I don’t think she would believe me,” Luke answered honestly. 

“So convince her,” Nico stated simply.

Luke snorted. “It’s not that easy, Hisch. She might—” 

“Look,” Nico began, both meals lying abandoned between them. “She’s either worth the effort or she isn’t. You have to be the one to make that decision, to decide if she is worth all this effort and worry. And if she is, then I believe you will be able to convince her. You’re a good guy, Luke.” 

“I–” Luke frowned, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Did you just use the pep talk from ‘10 Things I hate about you’?” 

“Well, I thought it fit.” Nico’s cheeks instantly started to blush pink. “How do you even know the movie?”

“Cherry made me watch it a few months ago.” His suspicion grew as he eyed his captain’s blush. “How do you know about that movie?”

“Jack made me watch it,” Nico shrugged, his blush darkening. “That’s not important right now. The important part is that I’m trying to be a supportive captain right now.” 

“By quoting a romcom to me,” Luke deadpanned. 

“Maybe a romcom gesture is what will win her over,” Nico retorted, wiggling his eyebrows. “You could go full eighties and get a speaker!” 

“How many romcoms has my brother made you watch?!” 

“He has a soft spot for them.” There was a pause. “You cannot tell him I told you that.”

…

The thing was that Luke knew you were worth it.

He knew that a long time ago, probably since the day of the party when you had made the offer to help him out rather than laugh at the fact he was probably the only virgin in the NHL. He knew he had been falling for you long before he had the realisation himself. He knew all of this and he knew you, and yet it didn’t change the fact that Luke still felt clueless about the whole matter. 

The texts between the two of you were still awkward and it seemed like you were filling your schedule with more plans and errands than Luke ever remembered. You were avoiding him and you weren’t being subtle about it.

Luke almost wished you were ignoring him completely. At least that would have been easier to stomach than the pity replies he was getting from you.

But Nico’s words—or more accurately, Patrick Verona’s words—lingered in the back of his mind as the days passed, as his phone buzzed once in a blue moon with your name, as he contemplated it all. He felt like his head was spinning as he replayed the last few months in his head, as he picked apart every single word and interaction until he got to that trainwreck of a phone call with you. 

He tore it apart and dissected it and tried to piece it all back together. 

And it still made no fucking sense to him. 

It was around two in the morning on a random Thursday evening when Luke accepted the fact nothing was going to change if he just spent the rest of his life trying to figure out when everything went wrong. It wasn’t the most practical time, and he was painfully aware that it could blow up in his face even more. But he was energised and angsty and genuinely felt like his brain was going to explode if he didn’t do this right now. 

So obviously the universe decided to make things difficult for him.

He looked like a shaking wet rat by the time he reached your place. It was thundering down with heavy rain all night and even the short walk to and from his car was enough to have him soaked to the bone, fabric clinging onto him like a heavy second skin. But the adrenaline was still pumping through him and, despite everything, Luke Hughes was not a quitter. It wasn’t in his blood and he had no intention of starting now. 

Though, he could have picked a better time for his moment rather than knocking on your door in the wee hours of the morning with the hope that none of your neighbours would wake up. 

He felt like he was staring at the door for hours before it swung open with you standing on the other side, not necessarily looking as though he had woken you up but weary nonetheless. 

“Luke?” You blinked at the sight of him, your lips turned down in confusion. “What are you doing here? It’s like two—” 

“You don’t get to tell me how I feel,” he blurted out before he could think twice. 

You blinked again. “What?” 

“I—” Luke paused, swallowing harshly before letting out a shaky breath. “In my head, I was a lot smoother with this whole speech but, like, fuck it. I’m just gonna say it and you’re going to listen because you hardly gave me a chance to say anything the last time we spoke about it.” 

Your confusion and weariness only grew, your fingers tightening on the handle of the door. 

“You don’t get to tell me how I feel,” he repeated, a little softer this time and a little more sure. “The whole conversation you kept acting like you knew what I felt, like you knew what I was thinking. And I…you were wrong. And I get it, I’m not an expert at…like…sex and stuff. And you were helping me. But, fuck, Cherry, I’m twenty years old. I know what I feel. I know what I’m feeling.”

And once he started, Luke couldn’t find himself to stop. Even as he saw a storm of emotions pass across your face as you stared back at him.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable that night. I don’t know why I said it then. Maybe it was just after the fact it felt like such a big moment for me and you made me feel safe,” Luke continued to ramble. “But just because I regret how I said it does not change the fact that I felt it. That I meant it.” 

You started shaking your head. “Luke—”

“I like you, Cherry,” Luke kept going, trying to ignore the way his stomach felt like it was twisting into a million knots. “I really, really like you. And I meant it that night. And I mean it now. And I’m not here so you feel like you have to say it back. I’m here because I can’t stand the idea that you think I just said it because I was some…emotional mess who couldn’t think straight after he lost his virginity.” 

“You don’t like me like that, Luke,” you whispered, shooting him a sad smile like you pitied him for believing it. 

“I know what I feel,” Luke insisted. “I know what I feel is true.” 

“But it’s not.”

Luke’s jaw clenched. “Cherry—”

“Luke, I’m trying to help you here,” you insisted.

“By calling me a liar?” Luke retorted.

“By making sure you don’t hurt yourself over feelings that aren’t real,” you replied, sounding so unlike yourself as you spoke. “You don’t like me like that, Luke. Trust me.” 

Luke could feel his frustration starting to bubble. “And why not? Why is it so hard for you to believe that I could genuinely like you like that? That I fell for you beyond the agreement we had? That I am falling in love with you?”

“Because I’m not the kind of girl people fall in love with,” you said, voice heavy and tired and yet, still sounding so sure.

Luke’s brows furrowed together. “What? What does that even mean?”

Your smile was shakier, your body leaning against the door like it was the only support keeping you standing. “I’m just not that girl, Luke, okay? This has nothing to do with you. You’re an amazing guy and any girl would be so lucky to have you. But I…I just can’t be that girl.”

But Luke was already shaking his head. “I don’t want any girl. I want you.” 

You sighed. “Luke—”

“Let me prove it to you,” he blurted out. 

You frowned. “Prove what?” 

“Let me prove to you that what I feel is real. Let me prove to you that it’s not just some stupid emotional response after a big moment,” Luke said, hoping some of the false bravado was hiding the fact he was pretty sure his chest was beating out of his chest. “Let me make things right. I…I miss you. As a friend. As a person in my life. You’re not just some person I was…fooling around with, Cherry. You are someone I care about. Let me prove that.” 

You looked doubtful. “And how do you plan to do that?”

“I just need you to trust me,” Luke stated simply. “I did the same with you whilst you showed me the ropes. Let me take the reins now.” 

“You sound so sure you can do this,” you murmured, noting the way he seemed to straighten up as he continued to speak. 

“Caring about you isn’t a hardship, Cherry,” Luke answered with a smile. “But I have a feeling that convincing you of as much might be.” 

.

[vlvttt]

Christina Gordon

[vlvttt]

[vlvttt]

lake house bunny pt2 (jack hughes x reader) ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

summary: bsfs to lovers, angst, pt2 to "lake house bunny", confrontation w/quinn and Adelaide, !THIS FIC IS NOT CANON TO THE LAKE HOUSE SERIES! warnings!! cursing, violence, quinn being an asshole, ADELAIDE GETTING DECKEDDD, not fully proof read a/n: a much requested part two to the lake house bunny :)) thank you for all the suggestions & ideas!! def used some of them here. love y'all <33 wc: 8.2k

Your eyes fluttered lightly at the sound of pitter patter from the hallway. You could hear Cole’s voice through your sleeping state, his loud laugh causing your head to pound. As your body began waking up, you felt the dryness in your throat begging for just a small sip of water. Your eyes cracked open, the dim light in Jack’s room making you wince slightly as your senses slowly came back to life. 

“Does he ever stop?” you muttered groggily, your voice raspy from sleep.

Jack stirred beside you, his arm still draped loosely over your waist. “No,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “Cole doesn’t have an off switch.” 

You groaned softly, trying to sit up but feeling the weight of Jack’s arm holding you in place. “Jack, I need water,” you said, your voice quiet but insistent. 

He cracked one eye open, giving you a sleepy smirk. ���Demanding first thing in the morning, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly. “I’m dying here, Jacky. Be a gentleman.” 

With a dramatic sigh, Jack shifted to let you go, stretching lazily as he sat up. “Fine. Stay here. I’ll get it for you.” You watched as he got out of bed, his hair sticking up in every direction and his shirt wrinkled from sleep. Despite the pounding in your head, you couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly endearing he looked. 

“Thanks,” you murmured, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as he headed out of the room. 

Moments later, Jack returned, a glass of water in one hand and a small bottle of Advil in the other. “Here,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing them to you. “I figured you might need this too.” 

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said sincerely, popping a couple of pills and downing the water in one go. The cool liquid felt like heaven against your parched throat. 

Jack smiled, moving back to his spot on the bed as he watched you. “Feeling better?” 

“A little,” you admitted, setting the glass on his nightstand. You turned to face him, a soft smile plastered on his face as he stared in admiration. Before you could say another word, Jack leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “Gross. We haven’t brushed our teeth.” You smiled, a pink tint running across your face.

Jack rolled his eyes, moving his hand to your jaw to plant another chaste kiss on your lips. “I had to sit back,” He kissed you again. “And watch you prance around this house,” And again. “For fifteen years,” And again. “Without being able to kiss you,” And again. “Give me a break.” He said gently before placing one last kiss on your lips, this one lingering longer. Your breath hitched as Jack’s lips lingered on yours, soft and unhurried, the weight of his words sinking in. His hand remained on your jaw, his thumb gently brushing against your skin as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. The vulnerability and adoration in his expression made your heart swell. 

“Fifteen years, huh?” you whispered, your voice tinged with teasing but softened by the emotions swirling inside you. 

Jack chuckled, his hand slipping down to rest on your waist as he leaned his forehead against yours. “Yeah, fifteen years of you driving me insane,” he said with a crooked grin. “And I’d do it all over again.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully, but the warmth in your chest betrayed how much his words meant to you. “You’re such a sap.” 

“And yet, you’re still here,” he shot back with a smirk as he moved his forehead from yours, his confidence growing now that the tension between you had dissolved. 

“Barely,” you joked, nudging him lightly, though your smile gave you away. 

Jack laughed, the sound filling the room and momentarily drowning out the muffled chaos from the hallway. His laughter faded into a softer look, his eyes tracing your features like he was committing them to memory. “You know, you make it really hard to not fall for you more every day,” he murmured, his voice so sincere it sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

You felt your cheeks flush as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Good,” you said simply, pressing another kiss to his lips. This one wasn’t rushed or teasing. It was tender and full of all the feelings you hadn’t said aloud yet. Jack sighed contentedly against your lips, his hands settling comfortably on your waist as he pulled you closer. When you finally broke apart, both of you were smiling like idiots, completely wrapped up in each other. 

The moment was interrupted by a loud knock on the door, followed by Trevor’s unmistakable voice. “Hey, lovebirds! Cole says if you’re not downstairs in five, he’s eating all the pancakes!”

Jack groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Why do we even let him stay here?”

You laughed, running a hand through his messy hair. “Because life would be boring without him.” 

“Debatable,” Jack muttered, pressing one last kiss to your shoulder before reluctantly sitting up. “Alright, Bunny. Let’s do this.” You climbed out of bed with a shared smile, walking hand in hand as you made your way down the stairs. The initial smell of fresh pancakes hit you like a punch to the face as you made your way into the kitchen. Luke was shirtless with an apron around his waist, flipping pancakes as Cole stood next the stove with heart eyes. Trevor sat on the countertop, scrolling through his phone as he waited for breakfast. What you noticed first, and abruptly, was that Quinn sat alone at the kitchen island, Adelaide nowhere to be seen. Quinn’s posture was tense, his eyes fixed on a mug of coffee in front of him. He barely acknowledged the commotion around him, a stark contrast to his usual calm presence. The absence of Adelaide, who usually hovered around him like a shadow, was glaringly obvious. Jack noticed your hesitation, his hand giving yours a reassuring squeeze before he let go to grab a plate. “Let’s eat before Trevor gets to the pancakes and leaves us with scraps,” he said lightly, though his eyes flickered toward Quinn with a subtle concern. 

You nodded, following Jack to the counter but unable to shake the heaviness radiating from Quinn’s direction. You picked up a plate and turned to Luke. “Morning, Chef Extraordinaire. What’s the special today?” 

Luke smirked as he expertly flipped a pancake onto the growing stack. “Chocolate chip pancakes, obviously. You’re welcome.”

“Thank you, Luke,” you said with an exaggerated bow, grabbing a couple of pancakes before sitting down at the island across from Quinn. Jack joined you, his knee brushing against yours as he settled beside you. 

“Morning, Quinn,” you said softly, testing the waters.

Quinn glanced up briefly, his expression unreadable. “Morning.” It wasn’t much, but it was something. You exchanged a quick look with Jack, who gave a slight shrug. The tension in the room was palpable, though Trevor’s oblivious antics at the counter filled some of the awkward silence. 

“So, where’s Adelaide?” Trevor asked suddenly, leaning against the counter with a mischievous grin. “You two finally get sick of each other?” 

The clatter of Quinn’s spoon against his mug made everyone freeze. He exhaled sharply, his jaw tight as he stood up and pushed his chair back. “Not in the mood, Trevor,” he said flatly, walking out of the kitchen without another word. 

Trevor blinked, looking around at the rest of you. “What? Was it something I said?”

Cole groaned, shaking his head. “You’re an idiot, Trevor.”

You pushed your plate aside, standing up to follow Quinn. Jack reached for your hand, stopping you briefly. “Bunny,” he said softly, his concern clear.

“I’ll be fine,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand before heading toward the back porch where Quinn had disappeared. You found him leaning against the railing, his hands gripping the wood tightly as he stared out at the lake. His shoulders were tense, and he didn’t look up when you approached. “Hey,” you said quietly, stepping beside him. “You okay?”

Quinn let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Do I look okay?” 

“No,” you admitted, resting your arms on the railing. “But I’m here if you want to talk.”

He stayed silent for a moment, the only sound the soft lapping of the water against the dock. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. “I broke it off with her.”

Your heart clenched at the raw emotion in his tone. “Adelaide?” Quinn nodded, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the railing. You held your breath, not looking at him as you ran through scenarios in your head. “Why?” You croaked out, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He turned to look at you then, his eyes searching yours. “Because of you.” His words hung in the air, heavy and filled with meaning you weren’t sure you were ready to unpack. Your breath hitched as you turned to fully face him, your heart pounding in your chest. Quinn’s gaze didn’t waver, his usual guarded expression replaced with raw vulnerability. 

“Because of me?” you echoed, barely able to believe what you were hearing.

Quinn let out a shaky breath, his hands still gripping the railing like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. “Yeah. Because of you.” He looked away for a moment, staring out at the lake. “I couldn’t keep pretending. Not when every time I was with her, all I could think about was… you.”

Your throat tightened, your emotions a whirlwind of disbelief, hope, and the lingering sting of all the times he’d ignored you, pushed you away, or sent you mixed signals. “Quinn…you can’t just say that,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He turned back to face you, biting the inside of his cheek. “I-I-I don’t get it.” He said with an uncomfortable laugh. “Bunny, this is what you’ve always wanted-”

“I-I’m with Jack now.” you interrupted loudly, your voice shaking through your words.

Quinn froze, his expression shifting instantly. His brows furrowed, and for a moment, he looked as though he hadn’t heard you correctly. “What?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m with Jack now, Quinn,” you repeated, your voice steadier this time but still tinged with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

Quinn licked his bottom row of teeth, scoffing before letting out a bitter laugh. “You’re fuckin’ unbelieveable.” 

You froze, anxiety quickly creeping up as his quiet demeanor quickly changed. “Excuse me?” You asked.

Quinn’s bitter laugh hung in the air, his posture shifting as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes, usually soft and contemplative, now burned with a mix of anger and hurt. “You heard me,” he said sharply, his voice low but charged. “You’ve spent years pining after me, making it so damn obvious how you felt, and now you’re with Jack? Just like that?” 

Your chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than you expected. “I’m sorry if this feels sudden to you, but you don’t get to talk to me like that, Quinn,” you said, your voice trembling but firm. “You don’t get to act like I owe you something after everything you’ve put me through.” 

“Oh, so now I’m the bad guy?” he shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You were always there, Bunny, always looking at me like I was the only one who mattered. And yeah, I was an idiot for not seeing it sooner, but Jack? My brother?” 

“Don’t you dare bring him into this,” you snapped, your voice rising despite the lump forming in your throat. “Jack has always been there for me in ways you never were. He’s been the constant in my life and you-” You paused, searching your mind for the words. “You’re just the older brother of the lake house who ruined my teenage years.” 

Quinn hung his head, letting out another chuckle as he looked towards the lake. “Typical Bunny. Always playing the victim.” 

His words hit like a punch to the gut, stealing the air from your lungs. You stared at him, disbelief and anger bubbling inside you. “Playing the victim?” you repeated, your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and fury. “Are you serious right now?” 

Quinn’s eyes flicked to yours, a bitterness in them that you’d never seen before. “Yeah, I’m serious,” he said, his voice sharp. “You act like I was out here deliberately trying to hurt you, like I didn’t care about you at all. But maybe if you’d spoken up instead of waiting for me to figure everything out, we wouldn’t be here.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration boiling over. “You don’t get to put this on me,” you snapped, your voice rising. “I did speak up, Quinn, in every way I knew how. I tried so hard to get through to you, but all I ever got back were mixed signals and empty words. You made me feel like I wasn’t enough.” 

Quinn flinched, his jaw tightening as he looked away. “That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” you scoffed, the lump in your throat making it harder to keep your voice steady. “What’s not fair is you stringing me along for years, only to decide you care now that I’ve finally found someone who actually treats me the way I deserve.” 

“Or maybe,” He yelled, causing you to flinch. You stepped back slightly, his frame towering over you. “You were so starved for my attention and I wasn’t giving it to you,” He pointed a finger in your face, causing you to step back further. “So you decided to go for an easier target-”

Quinn was interrupted by the door flinging open, a loud voice following behind. “Nuh uh!” Trevor yelled, quickly stepping in between you and Quinn. “What we're not gonna do, is take our problems out on Bunny!” Trevor’s sudden presence cut through the tension like a knife. He stood firmly between you and Quinn, his normally carefree demeanor replaced by an uncharacteristically protective stance. His eyes, usually brimming with mischief, now glared at Quinn with a fire you hadn’t seen before. 

“Trevor, stay out of this,” Quinn said sharply, his jaw clenched as he tried to step around him. 

Trevor held his ground, planting a hand on Quinn’s chest to stop him. “Nah, I don’t think I will,” he snapped, his voice louder than you’d ever heard it. “You don’t get to yell at Bunny like that just because you’re mad at yourself for screwing up.” 

“Trevor, this has nothing to do with you,” Quinn growled, his voice low and dangerous. 

Trevor scoffed, glancing over his shoulder at you before turning back to Quinn. “It has everything to do with me if you think I’m gonna stand here and watch you blame her for your mistakes.” You watched the two of them, frozen in place as your emotions swirled in a chaotic mess. Trevor’s words hit hard, but the sight of Quinn, still seething and refusing to back down, kept your guard up. 

“She’s not innocent in all this,” Quinn snapped, pointing toward you again. “She played games too, Trevor.” 

Trevor’s laughter was dry, his disbelief clear. “Games? Really? Quinn, you’ve been the MVP of mixed signals since we were teenagers. Bunny didn’t play games. She gave you every damn chance to step up, and you didn’t. That’s on you.” Quinn’s expression faltered, the weight of Trevor’s words seeming to sink in. His gaze flickered to you, and for a brief moment, his anger was replaced by something else. Regret, maybe. But the damage had already been done.

“Trevor, stop,” you said softly, your voice trembling as you stepped forward. “It’s fine.”

Trevor turned to you, his expression softening. “It’s not fine, Bunny,” he said firmly. “You don’t deserve to be treated like this.”

“Bunny!” You heard a loud whisper coming from the door, turning around to see Cole. He had a nervous expression on his face as his head peeked out from inside the house. “C’mere,” He said, gesturing for you to come inside. You glanced at Trevor who’s glare was centered on Quinn, then at Quinn who was sending you a soft look as if to say ‘You put me in this position. Are you happy?’. You blinked twice, weighing your options before ultimately deciding to go inside. You walked to the door, letting Cole open it all the way before stepping inside. “Let Trevor handle this one.” He whispered just before closing the door behind you. The soft click of the door closing behind you felt like a barrier, shutting out the tension and chaos of the confrontation outside. Your hands trembled slightly as you wrapped your arms around yourself, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. Cole’s steady presence beside you was grounding, and you were grateful for the quiet space he had created. Silently, the two of you made your way back to the kitchen, stopping in your tracks when Jack and Luke looked up. 

“You okay?” Jack asked with a light chuckle, cutting into another pancake with his fork. 

Luke looked up from his plate, his mouth still full. “Yeah, you look like you just saw a ghost.” 

You glanced between the two of them, smiles still plastered across their faces. “Y-Yeah. I-I’m um…I’m alright.” You trembled out, trying to grace them with a half smile. Jack immediately picked up on the tremor in your voice, his carefree expression fading into concern. 

He set down his fork, leaning forward slightly. “Bunny, what happened?” he asked, his tone soft but serious. 

Luke swallowed his mouthful of pancake, his eyebrows knitting together as he looked at you. “Wait, what’s going on? You don’t look alright.” You glanced at Cole, who gave you a reassuring nod as if to say it’s okay to tell them. Taking a deep breath, you stepped further into the kitchen, your arms still crossed tightly over your chest. 

“It’s nothing, really,” you started, your voice faltering under Jack’s intense gaze. “Just… Quinn and I had a bit of an argument.” 

Jack’s jaw tightened slightly at the mention of his brother, and he stood up, walking over to you. His hand found your arm, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin. “What kind of argument?” he asked, his voice calm but firm. 

You hesitated, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. “It’s fine, Jack. Trevor’s talking to him now. I just…I didn’t want to stay out there-” 

“Hope you’re happy, Bunny.” You heard a female voice coming from behind you, mocking your nickname with an annoying tone. You closed your eyes, knowing exactly who it was. You let out a harsh sigh before turning around, catching sight of Adelaide holding her bag. Her once polished look had now formed into mascara stained cheeks and tired eyes. 

You let out a bitter laugh, your tenseness from the argument with Quinn quickly fading as you stood in front of Adelaide, remembering every piece of what she put you through. “Thought your ‘nice girl’ act would hold up longer?” 

“Fuck you.” She said harshly, cutting off your speech. Low groans emerged from Luke, Cole, and Jack as you stepped closer to her. 

You shook your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “You don’t get to be mad at me.” You said quietly, your tone laced with a slight aggression. “No. You threw backhanded compliments at me, you violated my privacy by posting that photo, and then you deliberately tried to make Jack and I uncomfortable during your little ‘truth or dare’ bit.”

Adelaide’s face twisted in anger, her grip tightening on the strap of her bag as she stepped closer to you. “Oh, I made you uncomfortable?” she spat, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s rich coming from someone who’s been pining after one brother while playing house with the other.” 

Jack immediately stepped forward, his posture protective as he placed himself slightly in front of you. “Enough, Adelaide,” he said firmly, his voice low and steady. “You’ve done enough damage. Just go.”

Adelaide ignored him, her eyes laser-focused on you. “You think you’re so perfect, don’t you?” she sneered. “Everyone here fawns over you like you’re some kind of saint, but you’re just as messy as the rest of us.” 

You let out a dry laugh, your frustration boiling over. “Messy? Sure, I’ll own that. But at least I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. You walked into this house acting like you were better than everyone, but guess what? You’re not.” 

Adelaide’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, her composure unraveling with every word. “At least I’m honest about who I am,” she shot back, her voice trembling. “You’ve been stringing both Quinn and Jack along, and you’re too much of a coward to admit it.” Jack’s hand tensed at his side, but he stayed quiet, his eyes flickering to you to gauge your reaction. Luke and Cole exchanged nervous glances, clearly unsure whether to intervene or let the argument play out.

“I’m not stringing anyone along,” you said sharply, stepping around Jack to face Adelaide head-on. “I made my choice. And for the record? Jack doesn’t need you fighting his battles or defending him with your petty games. He’s better than that. He’s better than you.” 

Adelaide’s lips parted as if she wanted to respond, but no words came out. Instead, she let out a bitter laugh, her voice cracking. “You really think you’re better than me, don’t you?” She took a step back, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Fine, guess we’ll just have to wait until you go running back to Quinn.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I’m not going back and forth with you like this.” You said as you turned your back, walking towards the table. 

“Just the communal lake house slut.” Adelaide let out, emphasizing the T. You stopped in your tracks, still facing the table. Your arms crossed as you shut your eyes hard, your nails digging into your skin like you were really trying to hold back. You opened one eye, catching a glance of Luke who had wide eyes, mouth open as he shook his head at you. You shut your eyes again, your mind clouded with pure anger towards this girl. You let out a deep breath, letting your arms hang to your side as you looked back over at a scared Luke, whose head was now shaking in faster motions. He moved his hand from left to right up by his neck to say ‘no no no stop stop stop’. 

You glanced over to Cole whose mouth was parted, trying to find words, any word at this point. You sent him a sheepish smile, shrugging your shoulders before whipping your body around to face Adelaide in one swift motion. “Bunny, wait-” Cole started, but he was quickly cut off by you sending a hard, clean jab to Adelaide’s face. The sound of your fist connecting with her jaw was sharper, heavier than a slap, and the entire room froze as she stumbled back, clutching her face. Her wide eyes stared at you in shock and fury, her composure completely obliterated. 

“Holy shit.” Luke said, letting out the breath he’d been holding. 

You were breathless, shaking your hand to relieve the pain. “That felt incredible.” You whispered out, gasping for another breath. 

“YES!” Trevor shouted as he stood in the kitchen entryway, Quinn nowhere to be seen. “FINALLY!”

Adelaide staggered, her hand still pressed to her face as she turned back to glare at you. “Are you insane?” she shouted, her voice trembling with anger. “You punched me!” The room was thick with tension as Adelaide’s shout echoed through the space. Your chest rose and fell as you caught your breath, the adrenaline coursing through your veins making your skin tingle. Despite the sting in your knuckles, you felt a strange sense of satisfaction. 

“Yeah, I punched you,” you said calmly, your voice low but steady. “And I’d do it again if you ever speak to me like that again.” 

Adelaide’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, her brain clearly struggling to process what had just happened. “You’re crazy!” she finally managed to screech, her voice cracking with disbelief. 

“No, I’m just done,” you shot back, straightening your posture as you met her glare head-on. “Done with you thinking you can walk all over everyone and face no consequences.” 

Luke let out a nervous laugh, breaking the silence that followed. “Well, that’s one way to shut someone up.”

“Luke,” Jack snapped, his voice sharp as he shot his brother a warning look. Then he turned to you, his concern overtaking his frustration. “Bunny, let me see your hand.” You held out your hand reluctantly, wincing slightly as Jack gently took it in his. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, his expression a mix of worry and admiration. “You’re lucky it’s not broken,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’ve got a hell of a right hook.” 

Adelaide’s face twisted with rage, her hand still cradling her jaw. “You’re just going to let her get away with this?” she hissed, glaring at Jack. “She hit me.” 

Jack let out a humorless laugh, releasing your hand as he stepped closer to her. “You deserved it,” he said plainly, his voice cold.

Adelaide stumbled back a step, her anger faltering as she realized no one in the room was on her side. “You’re all insane,” she muttered, clutching her bag tightly as she looked between you and Jack. “This whole house is toxic.” 

“Then maybe you should leave,” Cole piped up from his spot by the counter, his tone casual but firm. “Seems like you’re not really vibing with the group.” 

Adelaide’s glare turned icy as her gaze darted to Cole, her lips trembling with barely-contained rage. “You’re all pathetic,” she spat, her voice shaking. “You think this is funny? You think any of you are worth anything without Quinn? You’re just a bunch of losers clinging to each other because no one else will have you.” 

Trevor let out a sharp laugh, stepping forward with his arms crossed. “Oh, sweetie, you’ve clearly got us confused with yourself. We’re not clinging to anything. You’re the one who’s been desperately trying to keep up.” 

Adelaide’s jaw dropped, but before she could fire back, you raised a hand, cutting her off. “Save it,” you said, your voice calm but cutting. “Whatever you think you’re accomplishing here, it’s not working. No one cares about your opinion, and no one wants you here.” 

Jack nodded, his expression unreadable but his tone firm. “Bunny’s right. You’ve overstayed your welcome. It’s time for you to leave.”

Adelaide’s face twisted, her eyes darting around the room as if looking for an ally. When she found none, she scoffed loudly, grabbing her bag with shaking hands. “Fine. I’ll go,” she snapped, her voice venomous. “But don’t come crying to me when this whole pathetic house implodes. You’re all toxic, and you deserve each other.” 

“Cool,” Luke said casually, popping a piece of pancake into his mouth. “Bye, then.” Adelaide let out a frustrated growl, spinning on her heel and storming toward the door. As the door slammed shut behind her, the room was plunged into silence for a moment before Trevor clapped his hands together. 

“Well, that was satisfying,” he said with a grin, looking over at you. “Bunny, I think you might be my new hero.” 

You let out a shaky laugh, the tension in your chest finally beginning to ease. “I don’t know about hero, but I’m definitely not sorry.”

Cole smirked, walking over to the fridge. “You shouldn’t be. That was the most entertaining thing that’s happened all summer.” 

Jack shook his head, his expression softening as he turned back to you. “Let’s get some ice on your hand before it swells,” he said gently, taking your hand in his again. 

As Jack led you to the freezer, Luke leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. “Honestly, I’m just glad she’s gone. That was exhausting.” 

Trevor nodded, grabbing a glass from the counter. “Here’s to Bunny, the official savior of the lake house.” The boys raised their glasses dramatically, their laughter echoing through the room as the tension finally dissolved. And as you sat at the table with Jack carefully tending to your hand, you couldn’t help but smile.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The rest of the day was quiet, almost eerily so. For you, Jack, Cole, Trevor, and Luke, it felt like a collective exhale, as though a suffocating weight had finally been lifted. With Adelaide gone, the house returned to something resembling its old, carefree self. The laughter and banter that had been stifled by tension over the past few days slowly began to resurface. Luke challenged Cole to a series of card games at the kitchen table, Trevor’s loud commentary making the entire thing feel like an over-dramatized sporting event. Jack stayed close to you on the couch, his arm draped comfortably over your shoulders as you both half-watched a rerun of an old sitcom playing on the TV. The atmosphere was lighter, like the house was finally able to breathe again. But Quinn’s absence was impossible to ignore. The five of you had watched in tense silence as he stormed into the house earlier, his face dark with frustration. He hadn’t said a word, just stomped up the stairs and disappeared into his bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him. That was hours ago, and he hadn’t come down since. Not for food, not for water, not even to yell at Trevor for being obnoxiously loud. It was like he’d disappeared entirely. As the sun began to set, Trevor ordered pizza for the whole group. When it arrived, Jack sent Luke to run Quinn a slice upstairs. Luke returned, a sort of depressed look on his face as he told you Quinn wouldn’t even speak to him. The group decided to collectively ignore it, seeing as Quinn brought this situation on himself, and Trevor was the first to say “We won’t let him ruin our fun.” As the evening went on, the laughter grew louder, the tension that had plagued the house fading further into the background. It wasn’t perfect, there was still an unspoken weight hanging in the air whenever someone glanced toward the stairs, but it was enough. Enough to remind you all that, even in the face of conflict and unresolved emotions, this was your safe place. Your people. As the hours stretched into the evening and the sky turned a deep navy dotted with stars, the group gravitated toward the backyard. The air was cool and refreshing, carrying the faint scent of pine and lake water. Luke took charge of building the bonfire, his face illuminated by the glow of the matches as he carefully arranged the kindling. 

“Alright, people,” he announced, brushing his hands off on his shorts. “Prepare to witness the greatest bonfire this lake house has ever seen.” 

Trevor rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he leaned against one of the Adirondack chairs. “You say that every year, and every year, it’s fine at best.” 

Luke shot him a mock glare, carefully lighting the fire. “One day, you’ll appreciate my skills, Trevor. Today is not that day.” 

Jack laughed as he dropped onto one of the chairs, pulling you down to sit on his lap. His hands held you by your waist, the warmth of his touch a perfect contrast to the crisp night air. “It’s fine, Luke. Just get the fire going so Trevor doesn’t complain himself into oblivion.”

Trevor snorted, slumping into the chair beside Cole. “If this fire is anything like Luke’s cooking, we’re screwed.” 

“Hey!” Luke shot him a mock-offended look, carefully fanning the growing flame. “This fire is going to be legendary, and you’ll be eating your words.”

Jack chuckled, his hands tightening slightly around your waist as you leaned back against his chest. “Don’t listen to him, Luke. It’s already better than last year’s. Pretty sure you almost burned the dock down then.” As the fire roared brighter, the group fell into an easy rhythm. Trevor handed out marshmallow sticks with a theatrical flourish, Luke carefully constructed the perfect s’more, and Cole spent more time eating the chocolate than assembling anything. Jack’s hands never left your waist, his steady touch grounding you as the laughter and lightness swirled around. You leaned into Jack, the sound of his quiet laughter vibrating against your shoulder as he teased Trevor about his unevenly toasted marshmallow. The warmth of the fire, combined with the easy camaraderie of the group, made the heaviness of the day feel like a distant memory. 

“This is what the lake house is supposed to be,” you murmured, your voice soft enough that only Jack could hear. 

He turned to look at you, his expression gentle as the firelight danced in his eyes. “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice just as quiet. “It feels right again.” He leaned in, placing a quick, gentle kiss on your lips. The kiss was soft and fleeting, but it sent warmth spreading through you that rivaled the fire crackling in front of you. Jack pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You good, Bunny?” he asked softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. 

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m good,” you replied, leaning your head against his chest. “This feels… perfect.” 

“Hold on a second,” Luke started, his loud voice cutting through the laughs and chatter. “Did you just…kiss her?!”

Jack let out a soft chuckle, looking at you then back to Luke. “Uh…yeah? Why?”

“Oh my god.” Cole said, his tone humorous. “No one told Luke.”

Luke’s jaw dropped, his wide eyes darting between you and Jack as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just witnessed. “Wait, wait, wait,” he said, holding up his hands like he was trying to stop time. “You two are… like, together together?”

Jack raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by his younger brother’s reaction. “Yeah, Luke. Together together,” he said with a small smirk, his arm tightening slightly around your waist. “Is that a problem?”

Luke looked genuinely flabbergasted, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to find the right words. “I mean, no, but- when did this happen? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Last night,” You said, fighting your giggles. “Remember? Seven minutes in heaven?”

Luke’s face turned beet red as realization hit him like a truck. His mouth opened and closed a few more times before he finally managed, “Wait. That actually happened? I thought you guys were joking!” 

Cole smirked, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head. “I mean, Luke, it was pretty obvious. Did you think they just played rock-paper-scissors in the closet?” 

Luke threw his hands in the air, looking around at the group in disbelief. “I don’t know! I just thought…maybe they…talked or something.”

“Don’t know exactly what happened in that closet, but by the looks of it, there wasn’t a whole lot of talking going on.” Trevor chimed in with a big grin on his face.

“Trevor!” you exclaimed, your cheeks heating instantly as the group erupted into laughter. You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “You’re the worst.”

Jack, ever unbothered, just chuckled, one arm still snug around your waist. “You’re not wrong, Trev,” he said with a smirk, earning a playful smack on the shoulder from you. “But you could tone it down a little, you know?”

Luke let out a long, exaggerated groan, dragging a hand down his face. “This is officially the worst day of my life.”

The group’s laughter echoed into the night, blending with the occasional crackle and pop of the fire. You watched the flames dance, feeling the stress and tension of the past few days melt away. Jack’s steady presence grounded you, and the lighthearted banter reminded you why this place, and these people, felt like home. The hours passed easily, the fire casting a warm glow over everyone as the sky grew darker and the stars brighter. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt simple, easy, and right. You felt yourself start to drift off into sleep against Jack’s chest as the night carried on, the playful conversations beginning to blend into dreams as your eyes fluttered shut. Jack’s hand rested lightly on your back, his thumb drawing slow, soothing circles as he felt you relax against him. The warmth of the fire and the soft hum of conversation wrapped around you like a blanket, lulling you closer to sleep.  

Jack chuckled softly, his breath warm against your hair. “Bunny?” he whispered, his voice low and tender. “You falling asleep on me?” You mumbled something incoherent, snuggling closer into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear was steady, comforting, and it pulled you further into the haze of sleep. Jack’s quiet laugh vibrated through you, and you felt the faintest press of his lips against your temple. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. 

Trevor noticed, of course. “Oh, look at that,” he said, pointing dramatically with his marshmallow stick. “Bunny’s out for the count. Jack, you better not let her snore.” 

“I don’t snore,” you mumbled sleepily, eyes still closed. Your protest only made the group laugh harder. 

Cole grinned, leaning forward to add another log to the fire. “Sure you don’t, Bunny. Sure you don’t.” 

Jack shifted slightly, adjusting his hold on you to make sure you were comfortable. “Alright, guys,” he said, his tone light but protective. “Let her sleep. She’s had a long day.” 

Trevor smirked but raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. We’ll let Sleeping Bunny lie.” 

The fire crackled softly, its glow beginning to fade as the night deepened. The group’s laughter had dwindled, replaced by a companionable quiet as exhaustion began to settle over everyone. Jack glanced down at you, your head tucked against his chest, your breathing slow and even as you slept. A soft smile tugged at his lips. 

“She’s out,” Jack murmured, his voice low so as not to disturb you. 

Trevor, who was half-asleep in his chair, smirked lazily. “Yeah, we noticed, lover boy. Don’t drop her on the way upstairs.”

Jack rolled his eyes, carefully shifting you in his arms as he prepared to stand. “Goodnight, Trev. Try not to burn anything down on your way to bed.” 

Cole gave Jack a mock salute as he stretched and stood. “Good luck getting her to let go of you. She looks pretty comfortable.” Jack chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around you securely as he stood, lifting you effortlessly. You stirred slightly but didn’t wake, your face nuzzling against his chest as you mumbled something incoherent. Jack’s grin widened as he glanced at Luke, who was watching with an amused expression. 

“Don’t worry, Luke,” Jack teased. “You can carry Trevor upstairs if you’re feeling left out.” 

Luke groaned, throwing a marshmallow at Jack, who dodged it with ease. “Just go to bed already, you showoff.” Jack shook his head, his smile lingering as he turned toward the house. The cool night air brushed against his skin as he carried you inside, the soft creak of the wooden floors the only sound accompanying him. The glow of the fire faded behind him as he ascended the stairs, careful not to jostle you too much. When he reached his room, Jack nudged the door open with his foot and stepped inside. The moonlight streaming through the window bathed the space in a soft, silvery glow. He carefully lowered you onto the bed, taking his time to make sure you were comfortable. You shifted slightly, your eyes fluttering open for just a moment. 

“Jack?” you murmured sleepily, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“Yeah, Bunny,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m here. Go back to sleep.” You gave him a faint smile, your eyes drifting shut again as you nestled into the pillow. Jack pulled the blanket up over you, tucking it around your shoulders before sitting on the edge of the bed. He watched you for a moment, the peaceful rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips curved faintly even in sleep. His heart swelled with a quiet contentment. He stood, crossing the room to change into something more comfortable before slipping into bed beside you. You instinctively shifted closer, your hand finding his as you murmured something unintelligible. Jack smiled, his fingers lacing with yours as he settled in. Just as he was about to pull you closer, let himself drift off to sleep, he heard a knock at the door. Jack froze, his fingers still laced with yours as his eyes darted toward the door. The knock was soft but deliberate, cutting through the otherwise silent room. He glanced at you, your breathing still even, completely unaware of the disturbance. Carefully, he slipped his hand out of yours and sat up, making his way toward the door as quietly as possible. When he opened it, he found Quinn standing there, his expression tense and shadowed in the dim hallway light. Jack blinked, surprised to see him up and about after he’d stayed locked in his room all evening. 

“Quinn,” Jack whispered, his tone cautious but curious. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

Quinn hesitated, his jaw tightening as he glanced past Jack into the room. His gaze lingered on your sleeping form for a brief moment before he looked back at Jack. “I need to talk to Bunny,” he said, his voice low but firm. 

Jack crossed his arms, huffing out his breath. “She’s asleep.” 

Quinn shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting back to Jack. “I know,” he admitted, his voice strained. “But I need to talk to her, Jack. It’s important.” 

Jack’s jaw tightened, and he stepped further into the doorway, his body language protective. “Quinn, it’s the middle of the night. Whatever it is, it can wait.” 

Quinn looked conflicted, running a hand through his hair as he let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t think it can,” he said quietly. “I need to clear the air with her.”

“Jack?” You mumbled, opening your eyes slightly. 

Jack let out a heavy sigh, turning to face you. “Go back to sleep.” He said, his tone laced with a slight sternness. 

“Jack,” Quinn whispered with pleading eyes, hoping to get at least an ounce of understandment from his brother. 

Jack licked his lips, rolling his eyes as he slowly turned to face Quinn again. “Quinn wants to talk to you.” You blinked groggily, sitting up slightly as your eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering in from the hallway. Jack stood in the doorway, his frame tense, with Quinn just behind him, looking every bit as conflicted as his voice had sounded.

“To me?” you murmured, your voice still thick with sleep. You rubbed your eyes, trying to process what was happening.

Jack hesitated, glancing back at you before turning to Quinn with a look that said You better not screw this up. “Yeah,” Jack said softly, his voice reluctant. “He says it’s important.” 

You sat up fully, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders as you gave Quinn a cautious look. “What’s going on?” 

Quinn stepped forward, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie as his eyes flicked between you and Jack. “I just…I need to say some things,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “Stuff I should’ve said a long time ago.” 

​​Jack’s jaw tightened, his protective instincts kicking in as he looked back at you. “You don’t have to do this now,” he said gently. “You’re tired, Bunny. It can wait.” 

But you shook your head, your curiosity and concern overriding your exhaustion. “It’s okay,” you said softly, meeting Jack’s gaze. “If it’s that important, I’ll hear him out.” 

Jack’s shoulders sagged slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line as he stepped aside, giving Quinn room to enter. “Fine,” he muttered, his tone begrudging. “But I’m staying.” Quinn nodded, clearly not surprised by Jack’s insistence. He stepped into the room, his movements hesitant as he leaned against the wall near the door, keeping a respectful distance. You shifted to face him, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for him to speak. The silence stretched for a moment before he finally took a deep breath and started.

“I’ve been an ass,” Quinn admitted, his voice raw. “To you. To Jack. To everyone, really. And I know I don’t have a right to ask for anything after the way I’ve acted.” 

You tilted your head slightly, your expression softening despite the weight of his words. “Quinn-” 

“Let me finish,” he interrupted gently, holding up a hand. “I’ve been holding onto feelings I didn’t know how to deal with. And instead of being honest or doing the right thing, I took it out on you. I was selfish, and I hurt you.” Your breath caught in your throat as his words hit home. Jack’s hand found your shoulder, grounding you as you listened. “I don’t want to mess things up for you two,” Quinn continued, his gaze flickering to Jack before returning to you. “But I needed you to know that I care. That I always cared. Even if I was too much of a coward to show it.” The room was silent for a beat, the weight of his confession hanging in the air. You swallowed hard, your emotions a mix of empathy, frustration, and a touch of sadness. 

“Quinn,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the tightness in your chest. “I appreciate you telling me this. I really do. But you need to let this go. For your sake, and for mine.” 

Quinn nodded slowly, his eyes filled with a quiet resignation. “I know,” he said simply, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just…I needed to say it.” Quinn gave a faint nod, pushing off the wall as he straightened. “Yeah…” he said, his tone weary. He turned toward the door, pausing just long enough to glance back at you. “Goodnight,” he said softly, before slipping out into the hallway and quietly closing the door behind him. 

The room was quiet again, the air heavy with unspoken emotions. Jack sat on the edge of the bed, his hand still resting on your shoulder as he studied your face. “You okay?” he asked gently. 

You nodded, exhaling slowly as you leaned into his touch. “Yeah,” you murmured. “I’m just really glad I have you.” 

Jack pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m glad I have you too.” he whispered, his voice steady and reassuring. Jack held you close for a moment longer, his fingers brushing gently against your back. The steady rhythm of his breathing began to soothe the lingering tension from Quinn’s visit. Finally, he leaned back slightly, tilting your chin up so he could look into your eyes. 

“You ready to go back to sleep?” he asked softly, his voice filled with warmth.

You nodded, letting out a small sigh as the exhaustion from the day began to creep back in. “Yeah,” you murmured. “I think I need it.” Jack stood, pulling back the blanket as he helped you settle back into the bed. Once you were comfortable, he climbed in beside you, slipping an arm around your waist as he pulled you close. His warmth was comforting, and the soft scent of his cologne lingered as you rested your head against his chest. 

“You okay?” Jack asked again, his voice quieter now, like he was speaking just to you and no one else in the world. 

You nodded against him, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the fabric of his shirt. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I just wasn’t expecting all of that today.” 

He kissed the top of your head, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “I wasn’t either,” he admitted. “But it’s done now. You don’t have to carry that anymore.” 

His words settled over you like a balm, and you felt the last bit of tension slip away. “Thank you, Jack,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?” he asked, his tone gentle.

“For being here,” you said simply, your eyes growing heavier by the second. “For always being here.”

Jack’s lips brushed against your hair again, and he tightened his hold on you. “Always,” he promised, his voice firm but tender. “Now get some rest, Bunny.” You smiled faintly, your eyes finally closing as his steady heartbeat lulled you into a peaceful sleep. Jack stayed awake for a little while longer, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your back as he stared at the ceiling, his thoughts quiet but content. Eventually, he allowed his eyes to close, his body relaxing fully as he drifted off. And as the lake house settled into the quiet stillness of the night, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in warmth and each other’s presence. For the first time in days, everything felt calm, easy, and right.

[vlvttt]

first day at the lake house (lake house gc x reader fic) feat. jack hughes, luke hughes, quinn hughes, trevor zegras, cole caufield ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

summary: !!this stems from the lake house group chat so if you haven't read those you should!! reader is apart of the lake house friend group, flirtatious with each boy, this fic is pretty crucial to the plot I can't lie, i put in a lot of comedic moments (bc ik y'all love those), TENSIONNN, a little bit of angst towards the end, each guy has their own nickname for her (ex. babe, sunshine, princess, sunny, and bunny) warnings!! cursing, angst, i only proofread once (I think that's it) a/n: ahhhh!!! finally the FIRST lake house fic (I say first bc I cannot wait to write more of these). this one is pretty long which I did by accident so bare w me. please keep sending suggestions they're so fun to read!! quinn & jack lovers, this fic is for you. love u lots <3 wc: 11.4k lake house series masterlist

The harsh Michigan sun slipped through the thin curtains of the lake house, waking you in almost an instant. You grabbed the dark throw blanket off the ground, covering your face to shield your eyes. You shuffled, trying to settle in more carefully on the half deflated air mattress so you could get just five more minutes. You maybe got two hours of sleep last night, being kept awake by Trevor’s snoring from the bed above. Several times throughout the night, Cole got frustrated with his snoring and kicked him. Trevor kicked him right back, sending Cole straight down to your mattress. He never landed directly on top of you as you chose to sleep as far away from the boys as possible, but he did come close. It happened four times (yes you counted) throughout the night, deflating your mattress little by little each time Cole’s body was thrown down. You closed your eyes, balling your body up under the blanket as you quickly let yourself drift back to sleep.

“Oh my god, shut up!” Cole groaned sleepily at Trevor who was too deep into his slumber to hear. You heard the shuffle of Cole’s foot reaching to kick Trevor, rolling your eyes at what was about to happen. You pulled the blanket from off your head, moving over to the side to give Cole some space to land. Just five seconds later, Cole let out a slight scream, falling right next to you on the air mattress. You turned to look at him, anger evident in your eyes as he made himself comfortable on your makeshift bed. You quickly grabbed the pillow your head was lying on to hit him square in the face. 

“Ow! Trev-” He paused, opening his eyes which softened at the sight of you, even if you were furious. “Oh. Hey, baby.” He said with a soft smile, letting his eyes shut again as he reached his arm around to pull you close to him.

You pulled yourself out of his grasp, scooching closer to the edge of the mattress as you sat yourself up straight. “Don’t ‘hey baby’ me!” You groaned, your mind still not fully awake. “You assholes kept me up all night!” Cole kept his eyes shut, nodding his head as he listened to your incoherent words. 

“Should’ve just slept down here with you.” He mumbled through his sleepy state, snaking his arm around your waist to pull you down. You scoffed, moving out of his grasp to stand next to the mattress. You crossed your arms, looking at Trevor who had his whole body splayed across the bed, then down at Cole whose smaller frame still managed to take over your territory. Somehow, the two boys were able to continue their sleep, even with the bright light shining through the window. You stared down at the scene before you, shaking your head in disbelief. It was like babysitting two toddlers who had somehow gained the bodies of grown men. Cole was already softly snoring again, his arm flung over the edge of the deflated air mattress where you had been moments before. Trevor, meanwhile, let out a particularly loud snore, causing him to twitch and sprawl even further across the bed above. You picked up a pillow from off the ground, throwing it at Trevor whose body didn’t even flinch at the action. You took one last look at the boys before huffing out your breath and exiting the room. You walked down the hallway, your legs wobbling slightly through your sleepy state. You were pissed when you found out you’d have to share a room with Trevor and Cole this trip. Normally it was Jack who shared with the two of them in his room, but he decided this year he wanted to “Bunk alone. For the greater good, you know?” whatever that means. The spare bedroom where you slept every year (alone might I add) had been quickly invaded by the two most testosterone filled creatures you knew, and you were not happy in the slightest. The lake house had always been your escape, but this year it felt more like torture. You made your way down the stairs, hair messy, voice groggy as Luke’s Michigan t-shirt fell slightly past your athletic shorts. You walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass to pour yourself some water. 

“Mornin’” You heard a low voice hum through the quiet of the kitchen. You turned your head slowly, seeing Quinn walking down the stairs to the kitchen. His hair was ruffled messily in his face while the neckline of his t-shirt hung low. You tried your best to send him a smile as you continued to fill your glass at the fridge dispenser. He walked closer, placing a hand on your lower back as he shuffled behind you to get to the pantry which sent a quick shiver down your spine. 

“Morning,” you mumbled back, your voice still heavy with exhaustion as you sipped your water. The cool liquid soothed your dry throat, but it did little to fix the throbbing headache that lingered from your sleepless night.

Quinn grabbed a box of cereal from the pantry, his movements slow and deliberate, clearly still half-asleep himself. “Rough night?” he asked, his tone light but laced with understanding.

You let out a bitter laugh, rubbing your hands against your face. “Rough doesn’t begin to cover it.” You said, leaning against the counter as you looked at him. “Trevor snored all night, and every time he snored, Cole would kick him. Then, Trevor would kick Cole back, sending him flying down to my mattress.” Quinn’s face cringed up as you spoke. “Four motherfuckin’ times. And each time, my mattress deflated just a little more.” 

Quinn chuckled softly, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. “Sounds about right. I told Jack you’d kill him for sticking you with those two.”

“Oh, I’m definitely killing him,” you replied, crossing your arms. “This lake house is supposed to be my sanctuary, not…whatever that was.” You gestured toward the ceiling, as if the chaos of the night was still lingering above you. 

Quinn smirked, grabbing the milk from the fridge and shaking his head. “Jack probably thought it’d be funny. He’s always been the king of passing off the worst roommates.”

“Well, his reign ends today,” you muttered, rubbing your temple. “I’m moving to the couch if I have to. No way I’m surviving another night like that.” 

Quinn paused mid-pour, glancing up at you with a hint of mischief in his expression. “You know…” he started, “My room’s always an option. No snoring, no body-slamming. Just saying.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical. “Is that your way of offering me your bed while you take the floor, or are you actually trying to convince me to sleep with you?” 

He grinned, unbothered by your teasing tone. “I’m offering you peace and quiet. What you make of it is up to you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “I’ll think about it,” you said, taking another sip of water.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” Luke shouted, his voice piercing through the quiet air as he ran into the kitchen. “It’s the first day at the lake! We’re wasting perfectly good hours of sunlight here.” You glared at Luke as you chugged the water, sending him a stern look. 

Quinn sighed, walking over to put an arm around your shoulders. “I think little miss sunshine over here needs a nap.” 

“She looks more like little miss raincloud.” Luke let out with a light chuckle. You quickly stretched out your leg, sending him a kick to the shin. “What the hell-”

“Stop being a dumbass.” You interrupted with a stern tone to your voice. 

Luke rubbed his shin dramatically, his face a mix of confusion and mock offense. “We just got here, and you’re already assaulting me?” 

“Consider it a warning,” you said, setting your glass down on the counter and narrowing your eyes at him. 

Quinn chuckled, keeping his arm around your shoulders. “She didn’t sleep last night. Trevor and Cole made sure of that.” 

“I heard my name, what’s going on?” Trevor came jogging down the stairs looking way too happy for your liking.

You groaned audibly, your head dropping into your hands as Trevor bounded into the kitchen, his grin almost as obnoxious as the snoring that kept you up all night. "Why are you so chipper?" you asked, your voice dripping with exhaustion and irritation.

Trevor shrugged, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl. “Got a great night’s sleep, that’s why.” He peeled the banana, dramatically biting into it. “Man, I feel amazing.”

You glared at him, your patience wearing thinner by the second. “Oh, I’m so glad someone enjoyed their night.”

Trevor tilted his head, clearly enjoying your misery. “What’s the problem? Air mattress too lumpy for ya?”

“She’s mad because you snore like a freight train,” Quinn interjected, smirking as he leaned against the counter. “And because Cole used her mattress as a trampoline every time you kicked him off the bed.”

Trevor laughed, a full, hearty laugh that echoed through the kitchen. “That’s hilarious! Why didn’t anyone wake me up? I would’ve joined in.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious right now? I barely survived the night because of you two.”

Luke, still nursing his bruised shin, smirked from the corner. “You really should’ve just slept outside.”

“That’s it,” you said, throwing your hands up and stomping toward the doorway. “I’m finding Jack. At least he won’t mock me to my face.” 

Trevor called after you, still grinning. “Tell him we need more snacks! Oh, and maybe some earplugs for tonight!” You flipped him off without looking back, earning a loud cackle from the kitchen.

As you stepped into the living room, the sound of Jack's voice floated down from the upstairs balcony. "Yeah, I knew this would happen," he was saying, clearly talking to someone on the phone. "But hey, it’s not my problem."

You stormed up the stairs and into his room, ready to give him a piece of your mind. “Jack Hughes!” you yelled, startling him mid-sentence. He looked up at you, wide-eyed, as you jabbed a finger in his direction. “We need to talk. Now.” 

Jack stared at you, the phone still pressed to his ear as he sat up in his bed. “Uh, I’m gonna have to call you back,” he said quickly, hanging up before you could even see who he was talking to. He set the phone on the nightstand and raised his hands defensively. “Okay, okay, don’t kill me. What’s this about?” 

“What’s this about?” you repeated, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “This is about you deciding to ditch Trevor and Cole on me. I know you masterminded this. ‘For the greater good,’ my ass.” 

Jack’s lips twitched like he was fighting a smile, which only fueled your anger. “I didn’t think it’d be that bad,” he said, trying to sound innocent. “I mean, come on, they’re not that annoying.” 

You shot him a glare so intense it could’ve melted steel. “They are exactly that annoying. Trevor’s snoring was like sharing a room with a lawnmower, and Cole-” You stopped yourself, throwing your hands up. “I don’t even have words for what Cole did to my air mattress.”

Jack finally broke, laughing so hard he nearly fell off the bed. “Oh man, this is even better than I thought.” 

“It’s not funny, Jack!” you snapped, but his laughter was contagious, and you felt the corner of your mouth twitch despite yourself. 

He wiped a tear from his eye, still grinning. “Okay, fine, I’ll make it up to you. How about this, you can sleep in my room tonight. I’ll take the couch.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, weighing your options. As much as you hated giving him the satisfaction, a full night’s sleep in a decent bed sounded like heaven. “Fine,” you said, pointing at him. “But you’re on thin ice. Scoot over.” You quickly walked over to climb into bed next to Jack, making yourself comfortable under the blankets. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, grinning down at you from his sitting position. 

You looked up at him once and then closed your eyes, shifting your head against the pillow. “Taking a nap in my bed.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Your bed, huh? I don’t remember signing off on that.” 

Without opening your eyes, you muttered, “You forfeited ownership when you subjected me to Trevor and Cole. Consider this reparations.” 

He chuckled, shaking his head as he scooted over to make room. “Fine. But if you start snoring, I’m kicking you out.” 

You peeked one eye open, glaring at him. “Unlike some people in this house, I have normal human sleep habits. No snoring, no body-slamming, no dramatics.” 

Jack leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms. “Guess we’ll see about that.”

“Not if you don’t shut up and let me sleep,” you mumbled, already nestling deeper into the blankets. The bed was ridiculously comfortable, and the faint scent of Jack’s cologne lingering on the pillow didn’t hurt either. Within minutes, your body began to relax, exhaustion taking over. Jack stayed where he was, scrolling on his phone and glancing at you every so often. The corners of his mouth tugged upward as he watched your breathing slow, your features softening in sleep. Despite the chaos earlier, he couldn’t help but feel a little smug. As you shifted slightly, your hand brushed against his leg, and Jack froze, his gaze flicking down to where your fingers rested against his knee. A faint blush crept up his neck, but he quickly shook his head, muttering to himself. “Nope. Nope.” Still, he didn’t move, staying right where he was to make sure you got your much needed nap. After all, if you woke up cranky again, he was pretty sure you’d murder someone, and it probably wouldn’t be Trevor or Cole. Jack scrolled mindlessly on his phone, glancing at you every now and then as you slept peacefully beside him. He couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at the contrast between your current state and the fiery temper you’d displayed just an hour ago. He was used to your sarcastic remarks and quick comebacks, but seeing you this calm, curled up in his bed, was different. He sighed, tossing his phone to the side and letting his head fall back against the headboard. It was still early in the day, but the lake house was already buzzing with chaos. From the sounds of it, Trevor had probably convinced Luke to start some sort of ridiculous competition outside, and Quinn was likely refereeing with an eye roll and a resigned sigh. Jack was tempted to join them, but his eyes drifted back to you. He knew you’d been looking forward to this trip as much as anyone, and now, thanks to his little prank with the room assignments, you were already worn out. Maybe he’d gone too far this time. You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent as you shifted closer to his side. Jack froze, not wanting to wake you, but when your head lightly bumped against his arm, he couldn’t stop the small smile that crept across his face.

 “Great,” he muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with mock annoyance. “Now I’m a pillow.” You didn’t respond, of course, but your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his hoodie, and Jack’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t used to this; being this close to you without the usual teasing or bickering. It felt...nice. 

The sound of the door slamming downstairs startled him, followed by Trevor’s unmistakable shout. “Jack! Where are you? It’s boatin’ time!” Jack groaned, glancing down at you. Your face scrunched up slightly at the noise, and he could tell you were seconds away from waking up. 

Before you could fully stir, Jack leaned down, his voice soft. “Do you wanna go for a boat ride or stay here longer?” 

You let out a heavy sigh, moving your head from Jack’s arm to rub your eyes. “I guess I should probably go.” He smiled down at your sleepy state, running his hand through your hair as you woke up. 

Jack’s touch was light, almost hesitant, as his fingers combed through your hair. “You sure?” he asked softly, his grin teasing but warm. “I can fend them off if you wanna sleep longer.”

You groaned, sitting up and stretching your arms above your head. “If I stay, they’ll just find a way to drag me out of here anyway,” you muttered, your voice still thick with sleep. Your eyes flicked to Jack, catching the way he was watching you. His grin softened into something gentler, and it made your stomach flip in a way you weren’t prepared for.

“Fair point,” he said, standing up and offering you his hand. “Come on, princess. Let’s go tame the animals.” You took his hand lightly, letting go as soon as you stood up. You and Jack parted ways when you reached the spare room. He made his way downstairs to the dock while you put on your bathing suit. You entered the room, not bothering to lock it since everyone was already outside. You let out a dramatic yawn, stretching your arms above your head before grabbing your swimsuit. You opted for a forest green triangle bikini with side tie bottoms. You stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment before taking off your shirt, just looking at your tired eyes. Dark circles had formed and you looked utterly exhausted. You grasped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head in one swift motion before removing your shorts. You slipped on the bottoms first before reaching for your top. You slipped it over your body first, then flipped the backside to the front to retie the strings. You were topless fiddling with the strings when you heard the door swing open.  

“Hey babe-” Cole stood at the door, stopping in his tracks when he caught sight of you with no top. He was like a deer in headlights, making direct eye contact with your breasts. His mouth parted slightly as his eyes widened. 

“Cole! Get out!” You yelled, knocking him back into reality. He covered his eyes with his hands as he let out a slight scream.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He cried out as he stood there with his eyes covered. “I didn’t see anything! I swear!” 

You stood there, flustered as you tried to cover yourself with your arms. “Why are you still standing there?!” You scolded. 

“I-I-I-I don’t know!” He shook his head, still standing there. 

You shook your head, letting it hang for a moment. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” You muttered. “Get out, Cole!”

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry!” He cried out, still in disbelief at what he’d just seen. He turned his body around, eyes still covered as he walked towards the door. His memory of the layout had betrayed him quickly as his head made direct contact with the door in front of him. You quickly tied your bikini top on before walking closer to him. 

You sighed, torn between annoyance and concern, as Cole stumbled slightly, rubbing his forehead. “Cole, are you okay?” you asked, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement.

He peeked through his fingers, cautiously lowering his hands when he realized you were now covered. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact as a bright blush spread across his cheeks. “Didn’t mean to barge in…I didn’t know you were in here.” As he turned to leave, the door swung open again. This time revealing Quinn, who immediately froze, taking in the scene. You in your swimsuit, Cole looking flustered and guilty. 

Quinn’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh... what’s going on here?”

Cole stammered, pointing at you as if that would somehow explain everything. “I-it’s not what it looks like!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling the headache forming. “Cole accidentally walked into the room while I was changing. End of story.” 

Quinn’s lips twitched, but he fought to keep a straight face. “Accidentally, huh?” He glanced at Cole, then back at you, his teasing smirk forming. “You sure you weren’t just trying to put on a show, sunshine?”

Your face burned as you shot him a glare. “Quinn, don’t even start.” 

Cole held up his hands, desperate to escape the situation. “I’m leaving! I’m leaving!” He practically bolted out the door, muttering apologies under his breath as Quinn stepped aside to let him pass. 

You groaned, dropping onto the edge of the bed. “If anyone makes one joke about this, I’m throwing them off the boat.” You looked up at Quinn who was wearing a perfect, teasing smile. He had his yankees hat on backwards, his canucks shirt fitting perfectly over his build. If you weren’t stressing about the moments just before, you’d be absolutely drooling over him right now. 

Quinn chuckled, pushing off the door to walk closer. “Don’t worry, I’ll back you up. But for the record...” He sat beside you, tilting his head to catch your eyes. “I don’t blame Cole for freezing. You’re kind of hard to look away from.” 

Your heart skipped a beat at his tone, and you playfully shoved his shoulder. “You’re impossible.” 

He laughed, standing up and extending a hand to you. “Come on, Sunshine. Let’s go make sure Trevor hasn’t capsized the boat yet.” 

You rolled your eyes but took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “If he has, we’re throwing him in the lake.”

Quinn grinned, his hand lingering in yours for a moment longer than necessary. “Deal.” Quinn led you out of the room, his hand brushing yours as you both descended the stairs toward the dock. Outside, the sun glinted off the water, and the sound of laughter and splashing filled the air. Trevor was already in the lake, standing on the edge of the boat, waving his arms dramatically. 

“Come on!” He yelled. “We're losing precious hours of sunlight!” You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you and Quinn made your way down to the dock. You slipped one of Cole’s t-shirts over your head that you’d swiped from the room before heading down, not wanting to be fully exposed just yet. “O’captain o’captain,” Trevor started with a terrible fake British accent. “Come to ye mighty wheel and commandeer this ship from lord Luke.” 

You made your way onto the boat, sending Trevor a nudge that almost pushed him into the water. “Shut up.” You mumbled, taking your spot in one of the seats, isolated from everyone else. You tucked your legs underneath yourself as you leaned your elbow on the edge of the boat. 

You looked over at Trevor who rebalanced himself, jumping back into the boat with a smug grin. “Heard about your ‘bodacious rack’.” He said with a slight laugh. Your face flushed and you scoffed, turning to Cole who sat in front of you.

Fear struck his eye at the sight of your glare. “You told them that?” You scolded. 

“No, no! T-That’s not what I said.” He let out with a nervous laugh and a sheepish smile, straightening his posture. 

“Uh, that’s exactly what you said.” Luke chimed in, taking a sip of his beer. 

Your jaw dropped, a mix of shock and irritation bubbling up as you glared at Cole. “Seriously?” you said, crossing your arms. “Cole, you’ve got about five seconds to explain yourself before I toss you in the lake.” 

Cole raised his hands defensively, his face already bright red. “Wait, wait, wait! It wasn’t like that- I swear! I didn’t say it like that.” 

Trevor, of course, was grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Oh, but you did, buddy. Don’t try to backtrack now.” He mimicked Cole’s voice, dramatically exaggerated. “‘Man, I saw everything. Her whole top was down and she’s got this bodacious rack.’ Classic, Cole.” 

Luke snorted into his beer, clearly enjoying the show, while Quinn groaned from the driver’s seat, his head falling back slightly in exasperation. “Trevor, do you ever stop instigating?”

Trevor placed a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “I’m just here to deliver the truth.”

Cole stammered, his words coming out in a jumbled mess. “I-I didn’t mean it like- like that! It was…it was an observation, okay?!” His hands flew up as if that would somehow help his case. “I was just- it slipped out, and then Trevor-” He gestured wildly toward Trevor, who was enjoying this far too much. “He made it worse!”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Oh, so it’s Trevor’s fault now?”

“Absolutely!” Cole nodded enthusiastically, latching onto the lifeline. “Trevor twisted my words!” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back a laugh despite your irritation. Turning to Quinn, who was still steering the boat, you said, “Can we leave Trevor and Cole stranded on an island somewhere?”

Quinn smirked, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Tempting, but then who would provide the entertainment?”

“Jack can,” you quipped, giving Jack a pointed look. “He’s just as bad.” 

Jack raised his drink in a mock toast. “Guilty as charged.” You looked over at Trevor who was still wearing a wide smile. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you settled further into your seat, occasionally glancing over at Cole.

“Now I feel like I can’t take my shirt off.” You mumbled, adjusting your sunglasses on your head. 

Luke laughed slightly, walking over to sit next to you. “Don’t be ridiculous, bunny. You can take off your shirt.”

You looked over at him, a glare in your eye as he made himself comfortable next to you. “I really can’t.”

“It’s fine.” He said, his voice low. “You’ve done it a million times before, what’s so different about today?” You sighed, rolling your eyes once again. Reluctantly you grabbed the bottom hem of your shirt, pulling it up your body. Once you had the shirt halfway up, you glanced over at Cole. He was staring, watching as you slowly removed your shirt. His mouth was parted slightly and you could've sworn drool was going to slip out. 

“Nope, nope.” You said, still holding your shirt up. “Can’t do it.” You said glancing over at Luke. 

Jack groaned from his seat, tossing his head back slightly. “You're such a baby.”

“Look at Cole!” You pointed toward Cole, whose wide-eyed stare was a dead giveaway. 

His face turned even redder, and he immediately scrambled to defend himself. “I wasn’t- I wasn’t staring! I swear!” he stammered, his hands flailing wildly as if that would erase the moment. 

Trevor burst out laughing, practically doubling over. “Oh man, Cole, you’re making it so much worse!” 

“Exactly!” you shot back, lowering your shirt again and crossing your arms over your chest. “This is why I can’t take it off.”

Jack, who had been observing the chaos with growing impatience, groaned again. “For the love of god, we’re on a lake. You’re wearing a bikini. Just take it off and let Cole get over it already.”

“Easy for you to say!” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “No one’s staring at you.” 

Trevor perked up, his grin widening. “I could stare at Jack if it makes you feel better.” 

Jack threw a bottle cap at him. “Shut up, Trevor.”

Luke, meanwhile, nudged you lightly with his elbow. “Come on, Bunny. You’re overthinking it. It’s just us.” You sighed, glancing between Luke’s calm expression and Cole’s absolute mortification. Despite the teasing, you knew Luke was right. You’d done this a hundred times before, just not after that incident. 

“Fine,” you muttered, your voice begrudging as you peeled the shirt off in one swift motion. You avoided Cole’s gaze entirely, tossing the shirt onto Luke’s lap for good measure. “There. Happy?” 

Luke smirked, casually picking up the shirt and tossing it toward the front of the boat. “Much better.” 

“Get me a drink?” You asked, pulling your hair into a bun. Luke nodded his head, walking to the cooler and returning with a peach high noon. He handed it over before returning to his spot next to you. He splayed his arm across the back of the boat behind you as you tucked closer into his side.  You leaned back on Luke's side, your legs tucked up in front of you as you cracked open the can, staring at Quinn pulling the boat from the dock. “This is nice.” You said with a sigh of relief, leaning your head back to look up at Luke. 

Luke glanced down at you, his lips quirking into a soft smile as his arm shifted slightly to rest more securely behind you. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that it felt like it was just for you. “It is.” The boat cut smoothly through the lake, the gentle hum of the engine blending with the sound of water lapping against the hull. The sun was warm, the breeze just cool enough to keep things comfortable, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt completely at ease. 

“Hey, Sunny,” Trevor said, walking over to sit next to you.

“Oh my god.” You groaned out as he took his spot. You lifted your legs so he could sit, then rested them on his lap. “What do you want?” 

Trevor lifted his hands in mock surrender, a smug grin forming across his face. “Just wanted to apologize.”

​​You raised an eyebrow, skeptical of Trevor’s sudden attempt at sincerity. “Apologize?” you echoed, crossing your arms as your legs remained draped over his lap. “What’s the catch?”

​​Trevor placed a hand over his heart, his grin never wavering. “No catch. I just felt bad about earlier, you know, with the whole…‘bodacious rack’ thing.” He paused dramatically, glancing at Luke, who was watching him with narrowed eyes. “I realize now that my words may have caused some…discomfort.”

“Oh, you realize now?” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm. 

Trevor nodded solemnly, but his playful expression betrayed him. “Absolutely. So, to make it up to you…” He leaned in closer, his grin growing wider. “I’m offering you the first push when we inevitably throw Luke into the lake.”

Luke snorted, shaking his head. “You’re really working hard to shift the blame, aren’t you?”

“Trevor, the human deflection machine,” you muttered, shaking your head as you took another sip of your drink. “Your apology could use some work.”

“Hey, I’m trying here!” Trevor said, leaning back dramatically as he adjusted your legs on his lap. “But seriously, Sunny, no hard feelings, right?” 

You studied him for a moment, his ridiculous grin and puppy-dog eyes impossible to stay mad at for long. Finally, you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine. No hard feelings.” 

Trevor pumped his fist in victory. “Yes! See, Luke? That’s how you handle things like a mature adult.”

Luke smirked, his arm brushing against your shoulder as he leaned closer. “Pretty sure you wouldn’t know maturity if it hit you in the face.”

“Bold words from the guy who’s about to be pushed in,” Trevor shot back, winking at you as if to say game on. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the chaos brewing. “You’re both children.”

“Children with impeccable charm,” Trevor quipped, holding out his fist for you to bump. 

You ignored his fist but gave him a teasing shove instead. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.” Trevor let out a gentle laugh as he leaned back in his seat. You shuffled your position, lounging further into Luke’s side. You glanced over at Cole who sat awkwardly as he talked to Jack, looking uncomfortable as ever. You frowned slightly at the sight. You were used to Cole constantly hitting on you, showering you with compliments, and you wouldn’t admit it but you missed it. “Cole!” You shouted in an attempt to gain his attention. He quickly whipped his head over to you, his face flushing slightly. “Those swim trunks look nice on you.” You said with a smirk before pushing your sunglasses further up the bridge of your nose, leaning your head back to look up at the sky. 

Cole’s eyes widened, his posture stiffening as a flush crept up his neck. “Uh- thanks,” he stammered, clearly caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. His gaze darted to Jack, who smirked knowingly, giving him a little shove.

“Relax, man,” Jack teased. “She’s just messing with you.” 

“Am I?” you replied, tilting your head slightly, your tone teasing as you kept your sunglasses on. You didn’t bother looking directly at Cole, but you could feel his nervous energy from across the boat. It was almost too easy. 

Trevor let out a low whistle, leaning forward from his seat. “Rare occurrence to see her flirting with you. Not even gonna attempt one, Caufield?” 

“Yeah, normally you treat her like she’s the love of your life.” Luke chuckled, his arm shifting slightly. 

Cole let out a heavy sigh, his face turning bright pink which he tried to cover with his sunglasses. “Alright,” He started, his voice shaky at first. “Come over here, hot stuff.” A satisfied smile wiped across your face as you got up from your spot leaning against Luke. Cole’s sudden confidence caught everyone off guard, including you. As you made your way over, you couldn’t help but smirk, your sunglasses hiding the glint of amusement in your eyes. 

“Hot stuff, huh?” you teased, standing in front of him with your arms crossed. “Big talk for someone who’s been blushing like crazy all day.” 

Cole leaned back slightly, regaining some composure now that he’d committed to the bit. “Gotta keep you on your toes, don’t I?” he replied, his voice steadier but still tinged with nervous energy. He patted the spot next to him. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging.” You glanced at the others, all of whom were watching with varying degrees of amusement. Trevor was practically bouncing in his seat, grinning insanely hard. Jack looked seconds away from gagging, and Luke raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical of Cole’s sudden bravado. 

Sliding into the seat next to Cole, you leaned into him slightly, your tone dripping with mock seriousness. “So, what’s the plan now, Mr. Smooth Talker?”

Cole chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh… I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Trevor erupted into laughter, slapping his knee. “Oh man, this is gold. Caufield finally shoots his shot and fumbles it immediately.”

Jack groaned, leaning back with a hand over his face. “This is painful to watch.”

You shook your head, biting back a laugh as you leaned closer to Cole. “Relax,” you said, your voice softer now. “You’re doing fine.” 

“Fine?” Cole repeated, his confidence returning slightly. “I think I’m doing great, actually. You’re sitting here, aren’t you?” 

Luke, who had been quiet for the past few moments, finally chimed in. “Don’t get used to it, Cole. She’ll be back here in, like, two minutes.” 

You turned your head, narrowing your eyes at Luke. “Oh, really?”

Luke shrugged, his smirk smug. “Yeah. You’re just messing with him. I know how this works, Bunny.”

Cole crossed his arms, leaning back as he grinned at Luke. “Jealous, Hughes?”

Luke rolled his eyes, but you caught the slight flush creeping up his neck. “Hardly,” he muttered.

Trevor clapped his hands together, clearly living for the drama. “Alright, let’s settle this with a little wager. How long does she stay over there before she’s back at Luke’s side?”

Jack groaned louder this time, standing up. “I’m jumping in the lake. Someone let me know when this disaster ends.” As Jack dove off the side of the boat, the group erupted into laughter, the tension breaking as you leaned back against the seat, still smirking. 

“You’re all ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.

Cole grinned, nudging you lightly. “Yeah, but you love us anyway.” You couldn’t argue with that.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After a long day of sitting in the sun, swimming in the lake, and dealing with Trevor, Quinn finally pulled the boat back into the dock. The sun was already setting when you stepped off, Cole’s hand out gallantly to help. You took it gratefully as you stepped onto the dock, the air already cooling down which left you freezing in your bikini. 

“Cold?” Treavor asked, walking up next to you.

Your teeth chattered as you tried to warm your arms with your hands. “Very.”

Trevor let out a soft laugh, looking over at you. “Race you to the house.” He said before taking off, sprinting through the yard.

“Not fair, Trevor!” You giggled, following close behind him. As you took off after Trevor, the cool grass tickling your feet, you couldn’t help but laugh despite the chill creeping into your skin. The fading sunlight painted the yard in shades of orange and gold, and Trevor’s exaggerated sprint ahead of you was just enough motivation to push you to keep up. 

“Come on, Sunny!” Trevor yelled over his shoulder, his voice full of mischief. “Can’t let me win that easily!”  Trevor reached the porch first, dramatically throwing his arms in the air. “Victory is mine!” he declared, spinning around to face you as you came to a stop, slightly out of breath. “Man, you’re slow.” 

You rolled your eyes, still laughing. “You had a head start, idiot.” 

Before Trevor could respond, Jack jogged up from behind, tossing a towel over your shoulders. “Here,” he said softly, his voice a stark contrast to Trevor’s boisterous teasing. “You’re freezing.” 

You gave him a grateful smile, pulling the towel tight around yourself. “Thanks, Jack. At least someone’s a gentleman.” 

Trevor feigned offense, holding his hand to his chest. “Wow. That hurts, Sunny.”

“It’s true,” Luke said as he strolled up the steps, shaking his head. “You ditch her in a bikini to sprint to the house, and you think you’re winning points?” 

Trevor shrugged, unapologetic. “She had fun.” 

“I’m gonna hit you,” you said, your voice light despite the threat. 

“Promises, promises,” Trevor quipped, dodging past you and into the house before you could retaliate. As you stepped inside, the warm air enveloped you like a hug, and the sound of the others following behind filled the space with a cozy buzz. 

Quinn wandered in last, shaking his head at the lingering chaos. “Do you guys ever relax?” he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. 

You plopped onto the couch, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself. “Relaxing is overrated,” you teased, looking up at Quinn. “Right, Quinny?” 

Quinn rolled his eyes but smirked as he tossed a sweatshirt your way. “Here. Before you start whining about being cold again.” 

“Whining?” you repeated, feigning shock as you pulled the sweatshirt over your head. “You’re lucky I like you, Hughes.” 

“Luckiest man alive,” he echoed dryly, shaking his head as he disappeared into the kitchen. You let out a sigh, sinking into the warmth of the couch. You sat back for a moment, watching Trevor and Jack laugh about something on Jack’s phone, Cole mumbling the lyrics to ‘Cardigan’ by Taylor Swift, Luke and Quinn searching the fridge for water bottles, just admiring the scene. You couldn’t have been happier anywhere else, and you were glad you finally made it to the lakehouse. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” You said, standing up from the couch. “Cole, please don’t barge in. I’ll lock the door just in case.” 

Cole, mid-verse in his rendition of Cardigan, froze, his face turning red as everyone burst out laughing. “Don’t do that!” he protested, his voice tinged with mock offense. “It was an accident!” 

Trevor smirked, leaning against the back of the couch. “Doesn’t mean we don’t expect it, lover boy.”

“Trevor, shut up,” Cole grumbled, glaring at him. “You’re the one who can’t go two minutes without harassing her.” 

“Hey, I’m just here to make her day a little brighter,” Trevor quipped, winking at you. “I’d never cross the bathroom boundary.” 

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the towel Jack had draped over you earlier. “Good to know the bar is that low. Thanks for clearing that up, Zegras.” 

Jack looked up from his phone, smirking. “Lock the door anyway. These guys are like wild animals.”

“Speak for yourself!” Luke called from the kitchen, holding up a water bottle like it was proof of his innocence. You giggled, ruffling Jack’s hair as you made your way up the stairs. 

You loved the lake, but if you were being honest, it made you feel disgusting. Sitting in the heat all day paired with swimming in water where you couldn’t see the bottom was bound to shake you up. You stepped into the shower, letting the hot water entrap your body, washing away every germ on your body. The steam from the hot water filled the small bathroom, cocooning you in warmth as the water cascaded over your skin. It was a relief, both physically and mentally, to scrub away the day’s grime. The mix of sunscreen, lake water, and sweat felt like a distant memory as you lathered soap over your skin, enjoying the sensation of being truly clean again. You tilted your head back, letting the water soak your hair, rinsing away the tangles left by the wind and water. The faint scent of your favorite shampoo filled the air, calming you further as you massaged it into your scalp. The day had been fun, filled with laughter and a little chaos, but this moment, just you and the hot water, felt like exactly what you needed to recharge. You stepped out of the shower, throwing a fresh towel over your body as you walked out of the bathroom. You headed down the hallway, hearing the faint sounds of everyone laughing. It was like music to your ears. You slipped into the spare room, making sure to lock the door behind you this time. You dropped the towel, taking a moment to fix your hair in the mirror before throwing one of Trevor’s Ducks sweatshirts over your head, along with some small athletic shorts. The soft fabric of Trevor’s sweatshirt engulfed you, its faint scent of laundry detergent and cologne oddly comforting. You smiled to yourself, knowing full well Trevor would make a big deal out of you “stealing” his sweatshirt the second he noticed. But for now, it was your little secret. You padded back down the stairs, the wood creaking softly under your bare feet. The living room came into view, and sure enough, chaos was in full swing. Trevor was standing on the couch, dramatically reenacting some story, while Cole was doubled over in laughter. Jack looked utterly unimpressed, scrolling on his phone, but the corners of his mouth twitched like he was holding back a smile. Luke was sprawled across the floor, throwing an occasional quip into the mix, and Quinn leaned against the wall, shaking his head but clearly amused. You walked over to Quinn first, wrapping your arms around his waist for a hug. You leaned your head against his chest, taking in his fresh scent. Judging by his wet hair and the warmth of his clothes, he’d also showered, unlike the other guys. 

“I’m so exhausted.” You croaked out, digging your face further into his chest.

Quinn chuckled softly, his hand instinctively resting on the back of your head as he returned the hug. “Long day, huh?” he asked, his voice low and soothing. 

“You have no idea,” you mumbled, your words slightly muffled by his shirt. “Between the lake, the sun, and Trevor being Trevor, I’m wiped.” 

He smirked, his hand brushing gently down your back before he pulled away slightly to look at you. “You still gonna have energy to deal with round two tomorrow?”

You groaned, leaning against him. “I might need to sleep for like, twenty hours first.” 

He shook his head, his smirk softening as he looked back at you. “Go sit down before you fall asleep standing up.” You nodded, letting him guide you toward the couch where Jack quickly shuffled to make room. You plopped down beside him, tucking your legs under you as you pulled Trevor’s oversized sweatshirt tighter around your body. 

“Nice sweatshirt, Sunny,” Trevor said, raising an eyebrow as he finally noticed. “Looks familiar.” 

You glanced up at him with an innocent smile. “Oh, this? No idea where it came from.” 

Jack snorted. “You’ll never get it back anyway. She’s stubborn.” 

“Exactly,” you said with a grin, leaning back and resting your head against Jack’s shoulder. “It’s mine now. Deal with it.” 

Trevor rolled his eyes but grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. “Fine. But only because it looks better on you.” 

“Everything looks better on her.” Cole let out with a soft smile as he laid back on the couch.

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Smooth, Caufield. Very smooth.” The group erupted into laughter again, and you couldn’t help but smile, the exhaustion of the day melting away as you relaxed into the warmth and chaos of this little family. 

“Alright,” Quinn started, raising a hand as he stood in front of the couch. “First night at the house, what’s for dinner?”

“Pizza!” You shouted, raising both your hands in the air. 

Jack chuckled, putting his arm around your waist to pull you up closer. “Yes, pizza!” He yelled.

Quinn smirked, shaking his head at the sudden burst of energy. “Alright, pizza it is. Who’s calling it in?” 

“Not me,” Trevor said, holding his hands up defensively. “Last time I ordered, you all complained about the toppings.” 

“That’s because you thought anchovies were a good idea,” Luke quipped from his spot on the floor. “You’re banned from ordering.” 

“Hey, anchovies are a valid choice,” Trevor shot back, pointing a finger at Luke. “You’re just uncultured.”

Quinn sighed, already pulling his phone out. “Fine. What do we want?”

“Pepperoni,” Jack said immediately, his arm still casually draped around you. “Keep it classic.”

“Hawaiian,” Cole suggested, earning groans from most of the group.

“No pineapple!” you and Jack exclaimed in unison, making the others laugh. 

“Alright, alright, pepperoni and maybe a veggie for balance,” Quinn said, ignoring the chaos as he dialed the number. “Anything else?”

“Breadsticks!” Luke called out, raising his water bottle like it was a toast.

“And wings!” Trevor added, clearly back in high-energy mode.

Quinn sighed but nodded, pacing to the corner of the room as he started placing the order. “You guys are lucky I’m feeling generous.”

You leaned back against Jack, letting out a contented sigh. “See? This is why you’re my favorite, Quinn.”

“Careful, Sunny,” Trevor teased. “Jack might get jealous.”

Jack scoffed, giving your side a playful squeeze. “Please. I’m her favorite, and we all know it.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, pretending to think. “Debatable.” The group laughed, and the warmth of the moment settled over you like a blanket. The boys continued their chatter as Quinn called the pizza place from the corner. You pulled out your phone as Jack moved to the corner of the couch, pulling you along with him. You rested your back against him, his arm draped around you, tracing careful circles on your skin. As you scrolled through your phone, you couldn’t help but feel the soothing rhythm of Jack’s fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. It was a small gesture, but one that anchored you amidst the playful chaos surrounding you. The hum of the boys’ voices filled the room, their laughter punctuated by Trevor’s dramatic retelling of some ridiculous story, likely exaggerated for effect. You scrolled on instagram, catching a post by the Devils of Nico and Timo. Your curiosity took over as you pressed on Nico’s tag, beginning to scroll through his profile. You smiled, looking at pictures of him back home in Switzerland. One of him crouching next to a dog in a flower field made you blush as you zoomed in on his face. 

“Why are you looking at Nico’s instagram?” Jack asked, his voice quiet.

“Why are you looking at my phone?” You snapped back, leaning your head up to look at him. 

Jack raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “You’re on my teammate’s profile, zooming in on his face. It’s hard not to notice.” 

You huffed your breath, setting your phone down. “Maybe, if you just let me have a shot at him I wouldn’t-”

“Oh no, no, no,” He interrupted. “No way in hell am I gonna let you do that. We’ve been over this.” 

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back to fully face him, his arm still resting loosely around you. “Excuse me?” you said, your tone dripping with mock offense. “Let me? Since when do you get to decide who I can or can’t date?” 

Jack’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by a stubborn set to his jaw. “Since it’s Nico,” he said firmly, his voice low. “He’s not some random guy you can flirt with. He’s my captain. My teammate.” 

“And?” you countered, crossing your arms. “What does that have to do with me? It’s not like I’m asking for your permission.” Jack groaned, running a hand through his hair. “What, are you worried I’d distract him? Or embarrass you?” 

“No!” Jack said quickly, but the flicker of guilt in his expression made you narrow your eyes. 

“Wow, that’s exactly what it is, isn’t it?” you said, your voice laced with disbelief. “You think I’d embarrass you.” 

Jack sighed, his hand still tracing slow circles on your arm as if trying to calm the brewing storm. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” you pressed, your voice softer now but still holding its edge.

Jack hesitated, his eyes flickering down to where his hand rested on your arm. “I just…It’s complicated, princess. Just- shit I'd rather not get into right now.” He said, his hand moving to rub his face. You softened slightly at Jack’s uncharacteristic hesitation. It wasn’t often he struggled to find the words, and the way his hand rubbed his face told you he was trying to bury something deeper than the surface-level teasing you were used to.

“It’s complicated?” you repeated, your tone quieter now, curiosity lacing your words. “Jack, you know that’s not gonna fly with me. Just spit it out.” 

Jack sighed, dropping his hand from his face to rest it on the back of the couch. “It’s just… weird, okay? You and Nico. I can’t explain it.” 

You tilted your head, studying him as he avoided your gaze. “Weird how? Like, you’re protective of him? Or…?” You trailed off, waiting for him to fill the silence. 

Jack let out a frustrated laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, alright? I don’t want to see you with him. It’s not about Nico. It’s about…you.” 

Your stomach flipped at his words, but you kept your expression neutral. “About me?”

Jack finally met your eyes, his gaze steady and uncharacteristically serious. “Yeah. About you. I’m used to having you around, and I don’t want anything to change.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden vulnerability. “Jack-”

“It’s stupid, okay?” he said quickly, cutting you off before you could say more. “Just forget I said anything.” 

You shook your head, sitting up straighter. “No, it’s not stupid. Jack, if you’re trying to tell me something, just say it. I’m not gonna bite.”

He groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. “It’s not that easy.” 

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Then make it easy. It’s me, Jack. You can tell me.” Jack sighed again, his eyes flicking back to yours. For a moment, he looked like he was on the verge of saying something, but then Trevor’s loud voice broke through the tension. 

“Hey! Pizza’s here!” Trevor yelled from the front door, his excitement cutting through the quiet.

Jack immediately pulled away, the moment dissipating as he ran a hand down his face again. “Saved by the bell,” he muttered, standing up and avoiding your gaze. You stayed on the couch, watching him go as your mind raced. There was something there, something he wasn’t ready to admit, but the weight of his words lingered, leaving you wondering what exactly he was holding back. 

“You good, bunny?” Luke asked, standing in front of you as you processed the interaction with Jack.

“Yeah, yeah. I-I’m good.” You stammered out, getting up from your seat on the couch. 

Luke smiled, placing an arm around your shoulder to pull you close. “Good. We have a pizza to demolish.” He said, shaking you slightly in his arm. ​​You laughed softly, allowing Luke to guide you toward the dining area where the rest of the guys were already gathering around the table. Trevor was handing out plates with exaggerated flair, Cole was busy inspecting the pizza boxes like he was on quality control duty, and Quinn was unboxing the breadsticks with the precision of a surgeon. Jack was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. His expression was unreadable, though his gaze lingered on you for a moment before he turned his attention back to the pizza. You felt a twinge in your chest, but Luke’s arm around your shoulders helped ground you.

“Sunshine, c’mere.” Quinn said from the counter where he unboxed the breadsticks. You escaped Luke’s grasp, skipping over towards where Quinn stood. You got up next to him, putting your face close to his as he looked down at the box. 

“What’s up?” You asked playfully.

“Got these just for you,” He said, holding up two small containers of ranch. “Don’t let Cole see ‘em.” He laughed quietly before slipping them into the pocket of your hoodie.

You beamed at Quinn, his quiet thoughtfulness making your chest warm. “You’re the best,” you said, slipping your arms around his waist for a quick hug. 

“Don’t let that get out,” he teased, patting the top of your head affectionately. “Gotta keep my reputation intact.” 

Trevor, never one to miss a beat, leaned against the counter dramatically. “I feel like I’m missing out on a secret conspiracy. Sunny, spill the tea.” 

“Um there is no tea,” you replied, grabbing a slice of pizza and making your way back to the table. “Unless you count Quinn looking insanely good handling those breadsticks.” 

Trevor’s jaw dropped in mock shock as the rest of the table erupted into laughter. “Whoa, whoa, pause. Is this the first time you’ve hit on Quinn outside the group chat?” Trevor asked, pointing dramatically between you and Quinn. Quinn, unfazed, smirked and shook his head, placing the breadsticks on the table.

Jack, who had been leaning back in his chair, finally chimed in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, princess, tell us more about Quinn’s breadstick skills.” 

You rolled your eyes, biting into your pizza. “Don’t be jealous, Hughes. It’s not a good look on you.”

Jack’s smirk faltered, his brow arching slightly as he stared you down. “Jealous? Of him?” He gestured toward Quinn. “I don’t need breadsticks to be the favorite.” 

“Debatable,” Luke quipped from his spot, grinning. “Quinn’s got the ranch hookup. That’s game changing.”

“Thank you, Luke!” you said, gesturing toward him with your slice. “Finally, someone understands the value of ranch.” 

Cole, however, narrowed his eyes suspiciously, leaning forward in his chair. “Wait. Ranch? Where’s the ranch?” 

“Uh, nowhere,” you said quickly, pulling the hoodie pocket closer to your body. Cole’s gaze darted toward Quinn, then back to you.

Quinn raised his hands in mock innocence. “Don’t look at me, Caufield. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“There’s no ranch,” you said firmly, though the slight smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. The dinner consisted of stories about past summers, laughs over things Cole had said, Luke attempting to do a backflip in the kitchen which ended with a face plant to the floor and a “You’re gonna get injured before the season even starts” from Quinn. You smiled, taking in the scene before you, just grateful you made it to this moment. After you all finished with dinner, everyone made their way to the back deck for a bonfire while you and Quinn stayed back to clean up. The soft hum of laughter and chatter drifted in from the back deck as you and Quinn gathered plates and empty pizza boxes. The kitchen felt warm, not just from the remnants of the oven’s heat but from the lingering joy of the evening. You caught Quinn’s eye as he stacked a few plates, his expression calm and content.

“Hey, is Jack acting…weird- to you?” You asked, cutting Quinn off guard as he finished stacking the plates. 

Quinn paused, his hand hovering over the stack of plates as he turned to look at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Weird how?” he asked, his tone steady but curious. 

You shrugged, trying to sound casual. “I don’t know, he’s just been... quieter than usual. And earlier, he said some stuff that didn’t really make sense. Like, he wanted to say something but couldn’t.” 

Quinn tilted his head, considering your words. “Jack’s always been a little hard to read. But yeah, now that you mention it, he did seem a little off tonight.”

You leaned against the counter, crossing your arms. “It’s like he’s holding something back, but I can’t figure out what. It’s...frustrating.” 

Quinn’s eyes softened as he studied your face. “You two are close. Maybe he’s trying to work through something but doesn’t know how to talk about it yet.” 

“Maybe,” you murmured, your gaze drifting toward the back door where the sound of Trevor’s exaggerated laugh carried through. “I just feel like there’s something I’m missing.”

Quinn set the plates aside and turned to face you fully, his expression calm and reassuring. “Give him some time. If it’s important, he’ll talk to you when he’s ready. Jack’s stubborn, but he’s not one to keep things bottled up forever.” 

You smiled faintly, appreciating his steady presence. “Thanks, Quinny. You always know what to say.” 

He smirked, bumping your shoulder lightly. “Someone’s gotta keep the peace around here.” The two of you stood there in silence for a moment. Quinn, glancing down at the floor, fiddling with the keys in his pocket and you, crossing your arms as you stared into the living room entryway. “Listen, sunshine,” He started, breaking the silence. “There’s something i’ve been wanting to talk to you about-”

Before he could continue, Trevor’s voice rang out from the deck, louder than before. “Sunny! Quinn! Stop being lame and get out here! The marshmallows are calling!” 

Quinn let out a sigh, pushing off from his spot against the counter. “We’ll talk later.” You nodded, though curiosity flickered in your chest at Quinn’s abrupt pause. He gave you a small, reassuring smile before heading toward the back deck, the sound of Trevor’s persistent shouting growing louder as he opened the door. You followed close behind, filing the moment away in your mind to revisit later. The deck was alive with the glow of the fire and the warm energy of the group. Luke was busy toasting marshmallows, though half of his attempts ended up charred. Trevor was narrating his process like he was on a cooking show, while Cole argued about the correct marshmallow-to-chocolate ratio for the perfect s’more. Jack, as usual, lingered on the edge of the chaos, leaning against the railing with his hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket. You grabbed a chair near the fire, letting the warmth soak into your skin as the cool lake breeze rustled through the trees. Jack’s quiet demeanor didn’t escape your notice, and your earlier conversation with Quinn lingered in your mind. After a while, Quinn sat beside you, nudging your knee with his. “Feeling better?” he asked, his voice low enough to stay between the two of you. You nodded, glancing at him with a faint smile. 

Trevor’s loud laughter broke through your moment, drawing your attention back to the group. “Jack!” he called, pointing dramatically at his friend. “Stop brooding over there and make a damn s’more.” 

Jack rolled his eyes, pushing off the railing and walking over. “I’m not brooding.”

“Sure,” Luke said with a smirk, handing Jack a marshmallow. “That’s why you’ve been staring at the fire like it owes you money.” Jack snorted, but his gaze flickered to you briefly before he sat down across the fire. You caught his look and held it for a second, a silent question hanging between you, but he quickly turned his attention to skewering the marshmallow.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The night air had grown cooler, and the flickering embers of the fire cast long shadows as you stretched, feeling the day’s exhaustion settle into your bones. Cole and Luke had already disappeared inside, their playful banter fading into the house as they headed to bed. Quinn had followed not long after, muttering something about being the responsible one and making sure the fire was fully out. You, Jack, and Trevor were the last to carry your tired bodies inside. You walked into the house next to Trevor while Jack followed not far behind. You rubbed your eyes, ready to get a real goodnight's sleep, unlike the night before. 

Trevor let out an exaggerated yawn as he reached the spare room, quickly moving to give you a side hug. “G’night, Sunny.”

“Night, Trev.” You said, your voice raspy as you craved sleep. You released yourself from Trevor’s hug, mirroring his yawn as you walked. You made your way to Jack’s room, your hand just barely touching the doorknob before he spoke up behind you.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice low but laced with a sort of sterness you’d never heard from him.

You turned to face him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Uh…going to bed?” You replied with a sassy tone. 

Jack rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “That’s my room.”

You scoffed, moving away from the door. “Yeah, obviously. This morning you said-”

“Yeah, but I decided I want to sleep in my bed tonight.” 

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms in defiance. “Oh, so now you’re kicking me out?”

Jack shrugged, leaning casually against the wall. “Pretty much.” 

You groaned, throwing your hands in the air. “Jack, I’m exhausted. Just let me crash in your bed. You can take the couch.” 

“No.”

You sighed, looking up at the ceiling in an attempt to not make eye contact. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you tonight,” You said, tilting your head back down to face him. “I don’t know what kind of shit you’ve got going on in your life that you won’t talk to me about, but don’t take it out on me.” 

Jack pushed himself off the wall, his expression growing meaner. “The kind of shit I've got going on doesn’t concern you.” (IT TOTALLY DOES) He said with a nasty tone as he moved closer to you. “Go sleep in the bed you were given at the beginning of this trip.” Your jaw clenched at his words, and you could feel the sting of them settle in your chest. Jack had always been quick with his sarcasm, but this felt different, harsher, colder. You took a small step back, crossing your arms tightly across your chest like you were shielding yourself. 

“Wow,” you said, your voice quieter now but still firm. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to care about you anymore.” Jack flinched at your words, his mean exterior cracking for just a moment. He opened his mouth to respond, but you held up a hand, cutting him off. “Whatever,” you said, shaking your head as you turned toward the hallway. “I don’t need this right now, Jack. Sleep wherever the hell you want.” You heard the door slam as you made your way down the hallway, your blood boiling with every stomp of your foot. You made it to the spare room, cracking the door slightly to get a look at Trevor and Cole. Trevor was man-spreading over the entire bed, snoring even louder than last night. You looked down to see Cole on your air mattress which was fully deflated at this point. You let out a sharp sigh, not knowing where to go.

“My room’s always an option. No snoring, no body-slamming. Just saying.” Quinn’s words from this morning echoed in your mind as you took in the scene in front of you. The thought of Quinn’s offer lingered, a tempting alternative to the chaos of the spare room and the sting of Jack’s harsh words. You closed the door quietly, leaning against it for a moment to steady your racing thoughts. The day’s exhaustion tugged at your body, and all you wanted was a peaceful place to sleep. With a deep breath, you pushed yourself off the door and made your way toward Quinn’s room, your steps quiet as the house settled into silence. When you reached his door, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the handle. Is this a bad idea? you wondered, biting your lip. But the muffled sound of Trevor’s snoring and the image of your deflated air mattress pushed you to turn the knob. The door creaked softly as it opened, revealing Quinn’s room in complete pitch black darkness.

You carefully walked over to the edge of the bed, seeing Quinn with his eyes closed and his hair tousled against the pillow. “Quinn,” You whispered. He stirred slightly at the sound of your voice, his eyes fluttering open as he turned his head toward you. The dim light from the hallway illuminated his face just enough for you to see his sleepy confusion.

“Hmm?” he mumbled, his voice groggy. “What’s up?” 

You quickly moved your knees onto the bed. “Scooch over.” Quinn let out a soft smile through his closed eyes as you pulled the comforter over your body. “Cole took over my air mattress.”

Quinn let out a low chuckle, his voice still thick with sleep. “Of course he did,” he muttered, shifting slightly to give you more space. His arm brushed against yours as he adjusted the blanket, the warmth of his presence instantly comforting. 

“Thanks,” you murmured, sinking into the mattress. The bed was far more comfortable than your deflated air mattress had ever been, and you couldn’t help but sigh in relief. 

He turned slightly, lying on his side to face you. The faint glow from the hallway cast just enough light for you to catch the gentle amusement in his eyes. “You gonna steal all the blankets, or are we sharing?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I’ll share, but no promises if I get cold.”

Quinn chuckled again, his hand tugging the comforter up over your shoulders. “Fair enough.” As the silence settled between you, the warmth of the bed and the quiet intimacy of the moment began to sink in. You shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, and your leg brushed against Quinn’s. The faint contact made your heart skip, but before you could move away, his arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer. 

“Better?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath caught for a moment, but the warmth of his touch and the steady rhythm of his breathing calmed you. “Yeah,” you said softly, relaxing into his hold. “Much better.” Quinn’s fingers rested lightly against your back, his touch gentle and unassuming. You let your head rest against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulling you into a sense of calm you hadn’t felt all day. His other hand came up to rest lightly against your shoulder, holding you close but not overwhelming.

“You’re warm,” you mumbled, your voice heavy with exhaustion as you nestled closer. 

He let out a soft hum, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Guess I’m good for something.” You smiled against him, the tension of the day melting away as you let yourself relax fully in his arms. His presence was steady, grounding, and you couldn’t help but feel safe as the quiet of the room wrapped around you both.

“Goodnight, Sunshine,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet fondness.

“Goodnight, Quinn,” you replied, your words barely audible as sleep began to pull you under. With his arms around you and the warmth of his body against yours, you finally felt at peace.

[vlvttt]

begin again!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

series masterlist!

pairings: popstar!reader x quinn hughes

warnings: mutual pining, fluff, slight angst, toxic past relationships

summary: you find love, for real this time.

word count: 1.2 k

notes: new writing! ty for all of ur patience

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

you're in the club, eyes red-rimmed and feet sore.

four months since you've broken up with your boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend.

the song lyrics and scribbled pen-inked paper around your piano in your apartment shows for it.

even now, as a remix of one of your songs plays loudly (the over zealous dj definitely saw you and probably hopes he gets signed or something), you chest twists.

the things he's done, it makes you question if love is real. your friends insist that it does, and you humour them with a complacent, teeth-bared smile.

your mind is in overdrive; this is good for your career, terrible for your gear-shifting mind.

and because you're a woman in a man's field, you thank the universe for leaking his texts with his co-star during your tour: you've been going viral and garnering an insane amount of attention.

although people are sympathizing with you, you just want to be loved. loved without hesitations and loved with careful hands and words.

you've been working your butt of to take your mind off of your quarter life crisis, but between the european leg of the tour and the north american one, you take a break when your family begs you to.

so now, you're out with your girls, wishing you were on your couch with a glass of expensive red, maybe with your guitar.

anywhere but here, where the booming music and smell of tequila reminds you so much of him. you sigh self-deprecatingly, that should've been your first red flag.

rainie, your best friend, notices your stiffness, and the blankness your eyes are covered by.

she hates your ex. he took a lovely, soft and kind soul and absolutely pushed you over the edge with all of his lying, cheating and manipulating. she is never letting you date an actor ever again.

she swears she's going to make sure that you're happy: even if it doesn't involve love, she just wants you to be you again.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

"hey, hun. i know you're tired," your manager says, and grimaces when you throw her a dirty glare, "but some of the canucks team is here, and they have a jersey for you. before you say anything-" you groan, "just like, two pictures!"

you know it'll be at least thirty minutes, but you agree, because your dad would be upset (ever since you were little a game was always on at your house) and you are from vancouver, so this is good for press.

you walk out, the mini skirt and bedazzled tank combo along with cute platform boots cutting into your sore body.

because you are kind (your manager is clasping her hands in thanks) and very well pr trained, you smile, shake hands, take pictures for daughters and nieces.

lastly, a gravelly voice says your name.

you turn, and you see an attractive, tall man. he's dark-haired, with big, sad puppy eyes and pale skin. he looks nothing like your ex, but you can't help stare at his pretty features.

"hi...?" you offer him a smile, and his ears turn as red as the bow in your hair.

"oh-sorry. i'm quinn. quinn hughes." he scratches his neck, hastily giving you his hand to shake.

cute, you think, as his much larger hand completely envelopes yours.

"he's our captain," the team manager beams, handing you a blue and green jersey.

he bashfully shrugs, and you can feel yourself melt. he's so endearing, with his calm demeanor and pink cheeks.

the photographer instructs him to put his arm around you as you hold up the jersey.

and this man, oh my, he asks for your permission.

you probably most definitely know way too many douchebags, because you can't remember the last time a man has done this.

when you nod shyly, he huffs out a breath and slides a hand respectfully to the middle of your back. he helps you adjust your hair so his hand doesn't catch onto it, and the two of you smile together.

the photo receives an alarming amount of likes, and you're pleasantly surprised when he texts you later that night.

quinn

hi, your manager gave me your number when you had to leave early. i hope that's okay :)

you silently thank your manager and her meddling.

you

ofc! sorry i had to rush off

quinn

no worries

i just wanted to ask if you wanted to get coffee sometime

you

oh!

yeah okay that sounds good

might have to wait for another month though

i have to finish tour first :(

quinn

i'll wait however long i have to

sorry, i have to go i have a game tmrw

goodnight, sleep well :)

you shut your phone off, realizing with a start you've got a wide smile plastered on your face. suddenly, you're wary about him: what if he's like your ex? what if he breaks your carefully stitched up heart?

then something tells you that this boy is special, so you breathe deep and take a leap of faith.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

quinn finds you in the crowd of people at the bar, slipping an arm around your shoulders and giving you a kiss on the cheek in greeting.

after the two of you had met, you had texted for weeks before actually meeting up in person at a cafe near your apartment.

quinn listens to your stories about tour, tells his own about his brothers and the shenanigans they get up to.

he's funny, you realize, in a subtle, deadpan way that intelligent people are. he looks at you with his pretty eyes and insists on paying for your drink despite your protests.

soon enough, you find yourself at his apartment after his games, cooking dinner together and watching stupid movies. he reads the book on his coffee table to you, and lets you tuck your cold feet under his thigh.

you learn things about each other: he memorizes your scent, vanilla and ball point pen ink, you curiously graze his book shelf, his taller figure hovering behind you.

your mutual friends meet at the bar you now all frequent, and you watch with a smile as rainie argues with a hoard of massive hockey players.

"hi," you coo at him, two drinks in, and he grins, smoothing his thumb over your going out top. he asks about the song production meeting you had, and listens intently has you drunkenly ramble.

you'd started to wonder why he hasn't made a move on you yet.

you'd asked him that one night, and he had looked at you with so much candy-melded affection; silently, he ran a rough hand gently up your calf. he told you that he cares about you: he wants to get everything right, because that's what you deserve.

so now, you find yourselves in a standstill, knowing you definitely like each other, but learning to be together as friends first.

however, the way he glares at any guy that comes within three feet of you tonight doesn't feel very friendly.

that night, he drives you home. you try to press - a friendly - kiss to his cheek, but you wobble on your heels and it lands more on the corner of his lips.

his eyes darken, like the way they do when you lick you fingers while cooking, or when you wear particularly short shorts.

you steady yourself on his biceps, giggling as he unlocks your door and practically carries you inside. as you scratch at the base of his neck, he gently pushes you against the wall of the entrance way.

he crowds around you, nosing at your neck. you welcome his scent, masculine and warm, and your hands find their way to his face, cupping his jaw.

your lips meet, and something clicks into place.

you sigh happily, his mouth nudging and exploring against yours. you've never felt so desired, so safe, and you murmur that against his lips.

quinn nips at the softness of your earlobe and almost shudders all over.

"i'm going to keep you," he tells you.

you laugh, and bring him closer to you.

you plan on keeping him too.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

[vlvttt]

Aftertaste

quinn hughes x indie singer!fem reader

summary: quinn is dragged out to a show at a dive bar, and finds himself drawn to the lead singer...

wc: 5.3k

notes: ive seen a lot of nhl stars x pop girlie reader (a slay every time) but something about the idea of straight laced quinn x indie girl compels me..

As a professional hockey player, it was one of Quinn’s biggest gripes when people told him he only cared about hockey. Mainly because people always said it like it was a bad thing, something they were uncovering that Quinn didn’t know about himself. Something he should be ashamed of. But Quinn knew, and he wasn’t ashamed at all. Hockey was in his blood, inextricably linked with his real biggest priority. His family. Luckily, hockey and family had always gone hand in hand for Quinn. Even when hockey took him far away from everyone, even when people tried to pit him and his brothers against each other, it never strained their relationships. They all knew it was just the nature of the game. Reaching his dreams, being an impactful player, it took thick skin. All three Hughes boys had been raised with that knowledge. 

But, that didn’t mean things didn’t rattle him occasionally. Like now, sitting on a teammate’s couch, trying to savor what he thought would be a chill afternoon sprawling into a quiet evening. Until someone’s phone rang. Dakota Joshua’s girlfriend was on the line, trying to convince everyone to go out. Her friend was in a band playing that night, and ‘there was no cover, so everyone should come.’ Because a bunch of professional athletes worried about paying an entry fee. A couple guys said sure, a couple more said they had plans, and when it was more or less worked out who’d be going, a few of them turned to look at Quinn. He shook his head, not moving from his slumped lean against the back of the couch. He was tired. And comfortable. So he verbally answers, “I’m not a huge live music guy. But thanks for the invite.” 

He hadn’t expected his voice to carry through the phone, really just speaking to his teammate. But the girl on the other line must’ve heard, because she scoffed. “Is that Quinn?” her voice crackled through the speaker. “Figures. He couldn’t care less about anything that isn’t hockey!” 

Quinn could hear that she was joking, but it still stung. He didn’t even know this girl that well. Why was she looking down on him for prioritizing his job, that he was, frankly, great at? Joshua immediately came to his defense, shooting an apologetic look over his shoulder and saying, “Hey, Captain’s locked in. Can’t complain, especially with the way the season’s going.” 

The conversation shifted, and then ended altogether, but Quinn was lost in his thoughts until some of the guys who weren’t going to the bar stood up to leave. What would he do with his evening, if he did go home? Slump on his own couch, watch tape or other games on TV that evening, talk to his mom or Jack or Luke, if they were free? Those were all things he enjoyed, that brought him joy, but none of his excuses sounded good enough when the guys asked if he was sure he didn’t want to go. So, he lets himself be half-dragged into the bar, and if he’s nursing his beer on the edge of their crowded booth a bit grumpily, hopefully everyone will let it slide. The group of people was bigger than he’d anticipated for a free show at a pretty run down bar. Quinn’s not even sure this is technically a concert, as very few people are lingering anywhere near the stage, and no one seems to be paying any attention to the people tuning instruments up there. 

“So, wait, how do you even know this girl?” Quinn hears someone ask, and that brings his attention back to the situation at hand. Joshua’s girlfriend, clearly pleased to hold the attention of the table, smiles widely. 

“Oh, we went to university together! It’s been awhile since we’ve hung out, but she was always so talented. She never actually made her own music in school though, which I thought was strange. So when she mentioned joining a band, I just knew they’d be great!” 

Awesome. Quinn’s been dragged out to see an amateur musician who’s a former classmate of someone he barely knows. He might need a couple more beers to make it through this. 

“What kind of music do they play?” Someone else chimed in, apparently not as put off by the previous answer as Quinn was. 

“I’m not really sure. I think, like, indie rock? She mentioned they’d be doing a lot of covers, because they’ve just recently started playing together. She said they wanted to go ahead with gigging to work out what kind of sound they wanted for their own music, so cool!” 

Quinn was seriously impressed by this girl’s loyalty to her friend. He wouldn’t call himself a big indie rock fan, but there were way less palatable genres, so maybe he’d survive after all. He looked towards the stage, at the band tuning their instruments and checking mics, and turned back to the table with a question of his own. 

“Is she the brunette with the bass?” 

“Nope!” Joshua’s girlfriend answered, eyes bright. She obviously hadn’t expected Quinn to show any interest. “She’s not up on stage right now. But that white guitar they’re sound-checking right now is hers. I recognize it from her Instagram.” 

Quinn nodded, curiosity satisfied. Conor rose from the other side of the booth, clearly heading to the bar, so Quinn slid out too, maybe a bit overly eager to step away from the larger group. Lucky for him, they lingered by the bar even after getting their drinks, so Conor was either a mind reader, or just felt similarly. They made easy chatter, and Quinn felt some of the tension in his shoulders unwind. Before he’d even thought of rejoining their other teammates, the bar lights dimmed. Quinn hadn’t even realized it was possible to make the space any dimmer. Turning his gaze towards the stage, all the same people as before were settled with their respective instruments, leaving a gap in the middle of the stage. Quinn’s eyebrows raised. A few seconds later, the missing member quietly entered the stage, smiling bashfully. 

Quinn felt like he’d been hit over the head, and that was putting it mildly. Fiddling with an acoustic guitar, high points of her face getting kissed by a spotlight, the lead singer was maybe the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

“Hi, everyone. We don’t quite have a name, or much original music right now, but we’re gonna play some of our favorite songs for you guys tonight. Hope you enjoy.” Her voice was soft, tinged with nerves, but still warm. Quinn couldn’t look away as she adjusted her grip on her guitar one more time, and shared a glance with the bass player on her right. The band started playing, and Quinn’s breath was stolen. 

They were playing an older song Quinn vaguely recognized, quiet, soft rock. He hadn’t really ever considered someone’s singing honest before, but that’s how it felt. Clear, sincere. Just singing from the soul, like she would sound the exact same even if the room was completely empty. 

“You live your life, you go in shadows

You'll come apart and you'll go blind

Some kind of night into your darkness

Colors your eyes with what's not there”

He stood, transfixed, until Conor elbowed his arm and tilted his head towards the booth. He looked like he had some taunts ready, but spared them as the men moved through the mostly quiet room. 

Back of his neck burning, Quinn slid back into the booth. Most of the group had gone to stand by the stage, bringing the amount of people at the table to a much more manageable amount. For Quinn’s social capabilities, at least. Not that he was paying much attention to anyone at the table, eyes glued to the middle of the stage. 

The band had launched into their second song, this one apparently not requiring the singer to also play guitar.  Quinn appreciated its absence, as it gave him an unobstructed view of her. She was in a sleeveless black mini dress and calf-high boots, which should’ve been little dressed up for the dingy bar. But, she pulled it off effortlessly, hair down and catching the light as she tossed in time with the music. Quinn certainly wouldn’t call himself an expert, but he wasn’t even sure if she was wearing makeup other than some lived-in eyeliner. She looked like a girl in a 90’s movie, effortless yet put together, all at once. It was intimidating, but something about her presence was also unmistakably warm and open. Quinn couldn’t look away from how she moved with a casual grace, the way her whole body seemed to respond to the song, guiding her voice. 

“I feel naked when you look my way

You can see it on my face

You're the only reason I came here

You're the only reason I stayed here

And I'm livin' on the aftertaste

Don’t you tell me it’s too late”

Dancing along to the music was obviously shaking off a lot of her nerves, but even far from the stage, he saw the singer’s cheeks flush as the crowd applauded at the end of the song. Cute. After saddling her acoustic guitar once again, the singer leaned into the microphone. 

“This next one is one of my favorite songs. Hope you guys like it.”

“During practice she’d say that about, like, six different songs. I just have to let everyone know.” The person sitting behind a keyboard chimed in, and the singer’s shocked laughter made Quinn feel lightly carbonated. Fizzy, reactive. What was wrong with him?

“I’ve got a big heart. Anyway!” 

She led the band into the next song, and they continued to play a few more, with minimal commentary. They weren’t playing anything Quinn was familiar with, but he didn’t really mind letting the music wash over him. The band were talented, and Quinn could see people around the room who clearly did know the songs enjoying themselves, further validating his assessment. At some point, Conor disappears, and brings back new drinks for the both of them, giving him that taunting look again. This time, he delivers. 

“You know, I thought you weren’t really a live music guy? Seem to be enjoying yourself plenty.”

“Oh, shut up.” 

“What? Just making small talk. Need me to be quiet so you can focus on the music? Maybe she’ll sign your forehead at the merch table later.” 

Quinn lets out a long-suffering sigh. There’s nothing he’d change about his life, really, but he sometimes dreams of a world where he’s a scary captain that people don’t make fun of for their own entertainment. That’d show them. He settles, instead, for making fun back, like any respectable adult with younger siblings. 

“Signed a lot of autographs lately? She could probably teach you how.” 

Conor lets out a shocked sound, but their back and forth is cut off by applause echoing through the bar. 

“Thank you!” The singer is once again guitar-less, nervously fiddling with her mic stand with dainty hands that Quinn’s eyes get stuck on. They must be tough, for how deftly she plays her guitar, but they look small. Quinn buries a half-formed thought of brushing against them, holding them in his own. He’s losing it. 

“We’re gonna do a few songs with some different vibes, if that’s okay with you guys. We’re still working on pinning down what style of music we really like making as a band, so we’d love to know what you think of these. This first one is called Starling, and it’s actually an original of mine.” 

Her cheeks flush at the scattered cheers through the room, and once the song starts, Quinn understands why. The song is raw, subdued instrumentation highlighting her voice. She sings most of it with her eyes shut, but not tightly. Not fearful. She’s swaying gently, and her voice soars through the dingy bar. 

“And she says we're the lucky ones

And you know why

To meet another is a miracle, let alone you and I

You and I, you and I”

The applause at the end of the song is noticeably louder than the songs before. Quinn claps, and Conor doesn’t even make fun of him, because he’s clapping too. The lead guitar player pats the singer on the back as she takes a swig of water and visibly tries to settle her nerves. 

“Okay, that was scary! Let’s have fun now.” 

The next song is folksy and upbeat, old-fashioned. It reminds Quinn of something his parents would listen to. The band really digs into it, the audience responding in turn, and Quinn feels weirdly connected to it all. It reminds him of being on the ice, a good shift where he feels like a live wire and can anticipate the moves of all of his linemates. Everything ramps up towards the end of the song, and it’s actually Conor who’s shoving Quinn out of the booth, towards their teammates closer to the stage.

“Seems like the last few songs are fun. Let's be social.” 

Quinn lets himself be dragged, like he has all night, folding into the group. A couple of the guys seem shocked to see them, Soucy throwing a “We thought you guys bailed!” over his shoulder. Quinn shrugs, but tries to fake-nonchalantly answer before Garland. Whatever Conor might say would do him no good. 

“Nah, just hanging back at the booth. Still tired from earlier.” 

“Nice. They’re doing a good job up there. Joshua’s girl is losing her mind.” 

Quinn is too, a little, but he refuses to say that out loud. Luckily, they’re interrupted. 

“Thanks for really getting into that last one. That’s one of my favorites.” One of the other band members snickers and starts to interrupt, Quinn sees their teasing smile from where he stands. The singer cuts them off, grinning widely and continuing her sentence,

“This is our second to last song. Laugh at me if you want, but it truly is my favorite song these days. Not one of my favorites, just my favorite. This is Juna by Clairo. Let’s dance!”

He’s never heard it before, much like the rest of the set, but this song is definitely his favorite, too. It’s still playful, but has a sensuality that’s completely out of left field. Taking the microphone from the stand, the singer slinks across the small open area of the stage. Her hips sway, free hand gesturing with the music, and she looks so good Quinn almost can’t bear it. She’s singing directly to the audience, confident and present in a way he hadn’t seen from her so far. And he’d definitely been paying more attention than he’d admit to anyone. 

“You know me, you know me

And I just might know you too, know you

Come to me ready”

Joshua’s girlfriend throws her hands up when the singer looks their way, and the singer looks down at her friend with a dazzling smile, sweeping her eyes over the rest of the group. Quinn has a weird instinct to avert his eyes, or run away, but he’s too late. The singer is looking at him. Quinn swears he sees her eyes widen, just a fraction, but the moment breaks, the rhythm moving her across the stage. He spends the rest of the song— and most of the following one— in a daze. He claps when everyone else claps, lets himself be moved like the crowd moves, but he’s mostly just drinking in the singer’s appearance. Her charm, her confidence, it’s magnetic. He’d be embarrassed, but he’s definitely not the only one looking. And that makes something smolder in him, stifling and warm. 

“Thank you all so much for being here. This was actually our first show all together as a band, so it’s been very special. Enjoy the rest of the evening!” 

The audience gives one last hardy round of applause, and the band don’t bother with theatrics, unceremoniously beginning to break down all their equipment. Quinn, as per usual, lets himself be led to the bar for another round, and then back to a table. Some of the girls in the group are chatting about how much they liked the set, how they’d love to see them again, but one comment in particular lands heavy on his brain. It’s Joshua’s girlfriend, pretending to be casual when she boasts,

“I told you guys Y/N was amazing! I texted her and told her she should come hang with us for a minute when they’re all packed up. I hope she has time.” 

Conor elbows him. The little shit. Quinn gives him a withering look, but he knows at least one of the other guys had to have noticed the interaction. 

“Oh?” Dakota raises an eyebrow at him. “Interested in meeting Y/N? Didn’t really think you cared for live music, Cap. Had to drag you into the bar and all.”

Quinn visualizes the alternate universe where he’s intimidating his teammates, and decides to play dumb in real life. 

“Who? The only reason I haven’t left is because Garland keeps buying me drinks.” 

Joshua doesn’t quite buy it. 

“That’s nice of him. Means you have room for a couple drinks for Y/N on your tab, then. She was the lead singer. Seemed like you were keeping an eye on her.”

“You know, not a huge live music guy, myself, but I’ve heard when people are onstage you’re supposed to pay attention to them.” Quinn chirps, perhaps belatedly realizing getting defensive about the girl would only make things worse. The guys laugh, and the conversation moves on, so he must’ve said just enough to be let off the hook. 

Quinn lets his thoughts wander, rather than taking part in the mindless chatter. He really is tired. Everyone will tease him for leaving, but he’s been more than a good sport. He’s absolutely far surpassed his “not hockey” quota for the day. Just as he decides on getting up and telling everyone goodbye, other people around the table are standing, and some of the girls are fussing. Did someone else decide to leave before him? Even better, he can just tack onto someone else’s goodbye, slip out with even less attention on him. He gets out of his chair and realizes he’s fallen into a trap of sorts. 

In the middle of all the commotion is Dakota Joshua’s girlfriend, bragging about her friend while wrapping her in a tight hug. The lead singer. She’s clearly overwhelmed by the enthusiasm, but gives the group a genuine smile. 

“This is my boyfriend, Dakota, and these are a bunch of his teammates!” She rattles off their names, as if the singer will remember them, and Quinn feels something inside him ignite when he locks eyes with the girl again. 

“Nice to meet you guys. Thanks for coming out! So glad I didn’t realize who you all were until now. I would’ve freaked out.” The singer’s smile turns shy, and Quinn sees a couple of the guys almost visibly puff up their chests, enjoying the recognition. He is too, sure, but he hopes it’s not too obvious. 

“Big Canucks fan?” Joshua asks while slinging an arm around his girlfriend, pulling her closer. 

“Born and raised. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love a picture to send to my parents. They’re gonna lose their minds.” 

Dakota’s girlfriend is already whipping out her phone before the singer can finish her sentence, gathering everyone into the frame. Conor, ever the meddler, shoves Quinn towards the center, and he ends up right next to the girl he’s been admiring all evening. He breathes in her clean, citrusy perfume, and isn’t sure he remembers to smile for the picture, dazed. Joshua’s girlfriend looks through the photos and seems pleased, so Quinn must look normal enough.

“They came out so cute! Y/N, do you have a favorite player? If he’s here let’s get a picture of just you two!”

The singer, Y/N, he mentally corrects, stammers out an excuse, but she seems to quickly learn the lesson Quinn learned in his earliest days in the sport. Give hockey players an obvious weak point, and they’ll exploit it, on or off the ice. A few of the guys tease, lightheartedly, but still pressing for an answer. 

“Um… it’s 43. Hughes…” She’s avoiding his eye, and the guys are going wild, but Quinn hardly notices. He’s floating, mentally thanking every extra rep in the gym, every early practice, even his parents for loving the sport so much they passed it onto him. Quinn can’t help his small smirk as Joshua’s girlfriend gestures for Y/N to hand her phone over, opening the camera and telling them to get together and pose. 

Quinn takes a step closer, hovering his arm around her waist, until he finally catches Y/N’s eye. He tilts his head, wordlessly questioning. She nods and wraps her own arm behind his back, so he lets his hand settle. It’s not hard to smile for the picture when he’s pressed against her side. His guys are jeering, but he pays them no mind as Y/N is handed back her phone. Now or never, probably, Quinn thinks to himself. So he dives. 

“D’you mind sending those to me?” He asks, trying to keep his voice low amongst all the chaos of the group. He doesn’t exactly want commentary as he’s trying to shoot his shot. 

Y/N blinks up at him, and he finds her visible confusion endearing. 

“You want me to send you the pictures of us together?”

Quinn just nods. She blinks some more, brow furrowed. 

“Yeah, sure, I can. Why?” 

Quinn wishes he had some witty or charming response, but there’s something about her straightforwardness that disarms him. She doesn’t seem to realize how interested Quinn is, for better or for worse. 

“Well,” He rubs the back of his neck, “It was the most casual way I could think of to ask for your number.” 

At that, Y/N’s eyes widen, but she also smiles in a coy way that makes Quinn think he might be in over his head. 

“Oh! Well, in that case, I’d be more than happy to send you those pictures.” She hands Quinn her phone, already open to a new contact, and he takes it from her outstretched hand.

“You guys did great up there, by the way. Especially for a first show. I never would’ve guessed.”

Y/N gives him that warm, happy smile, and he melts. 

“Thank you! I haven’t performed in front of a crowd since middle school choir, so I’m honestly just proud I made it through the set at all.”

Quinn, once again, is floored. Sure, she seemed anxious at first, but he still gets visibly nervous before stepping on the ice all these years later. The idea of doing something for the very first time with so much grace makes him jealous, in a weird way. He doesn’t know how to express all that to a stranger, so he doesn’t. 

“Really? You looked at home up there.”

Y/N’s gaze softens a bit, something that wasn’t quite shyness— maybe vulnerability— creeping in. 

“That means a lot. It’s something I’ve always dreamed about, always craved. But I was too scared until really recently.”

“That’s really brave.” he responds, thrilled by her flushed cheeks and bashful smile.

“That’s funny,” Y/N says, taking a step closer, holding steady eye contact now, “I find it really brave to hold onto your childhood dreams. I never had that strength.”

Now Quinn is the one flushing. Of course, plenty of people praise his hard work, but many also say his success was handed to him. He’d never deny his good fortune; his amazing parents were certainly the foundation and entry point for his dream. But, he couldn’t have gotten to this point if it was just his parents’ dream for him. He held firm through a lot of exhaustion, pain, and uncertainty. Someone else acknowledging that makes all of the old feelings almost tangible. It’s an uncomfortable sensation for Quinn, one he doesn’t like to linger on.

“It takes a village.” He answers, trying to sound at ease. Y/N laughs.

“How diplomatic! I forget you guys get media trained.”

At that, Quinn laughs, too. He’s fascinated by the discerning sharpness that almost underscores the warmth and openness the girl projects. As if, somehow, she’s looking right through him, but she likes what she sees. He wants to see more of her, in turn. 

“You’ll need some of that too, soon enough. I bet the band’s gonna get big.”

“Let me get used to playing in dive bars first, even just thinking about anything bigger is going to give me a panic attack for the foreseeable future.”

“You don’t wanna come sing the anthem at a game?” Quinn can’t help but tease, rewarded by Y/N’s eyes going wide. 

“That honestly makes my knees weak. Do you ever get used to playing in front of all those people?”

Quinn tilts his head, considering his answer. He doesn’t want to sound full of himself, but he wants to be honest. 

“A lot of times, I’m not really thinking about the audience. I’m just focused on the ice. But, when the crowd gets really worked up, it can definitely impact the game.”

Y/N nods, brow furrowed as she thinks over his answer. 

“For better or for worse? Depends on where you are?”

“Yeah,” Quinn answers with a smile, but it’s tight around the edges. “Some places can be fun to play but not exactly welcoming.”

“That’s so interesting. I never thought about how much of the game is mental. No wonder you guys try to be so even-tempered in interviews and stuff.”

Quinn’s lips lift into a smirk. 

“You watch a lot of my interviews?”

Y/N huffs, rolling her eyes, but he sees her cheeks darken a bit.

“Oh, hush. I mean, like, whoever gets star of the game or whatever. Always giving generic answers.” 

She’s certainly not wrong. Quinn wants to keep talking, but the bass player of the band steps into the conversation, with an impish smile and hand on Y/N’s shoulder. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but Y/N, do you still want a ride? I’m about to head out.”

“Yes, please.” Y/N replies, and if Quinn wants to believe there’s a bit of reluctance in her tone, he will. She turns back to him with an apologetic smile that certainly helps his interpretation. “It was really nice meeting all of you guys. Thanks again for coming out. We’ll absolutely be bragging at every show about how the Canucks were at our very first gig.” 

“Of course,” Quinn replies. “We’ll have to get you guys out to a game soon.”

“A cultural exchange, of sorts.” The bassist chimes in with a laugh. Y/N shakes her head, but Quinn laughs along.

“Exactly! See you guys around.”

If he watches the two girls walk away, heart thudding when Y/N looks over her shoulder to wave goodbye, that’s between him… and Conor, who scurried over the second the musicians walked away to clap a hand on Quinn’s shoulder and shout something that sounded vaguely like “Attaboy!”. He must’ve had a few more rounds after the show ended. 

—

A few days later, Quinn’s just getting home from an early morning practice when his phone buzzes. He mindlessly opens the notification, not realizing it was a text from an unsaved number until he’s staring at pictures of him and Y/N, with a caption that makes the corner of his lips raise. He saves the contact, and pretends he’s not looking at the photos some more. 

From: Y/N 🎤

so… when’s the next game? :)

To: Y/N 🎤

Coincidentally, tomorrow. You guys free?

Quinn busies himself with preparing lunch, refusing to sit idle by his phone, as much as he wants to. When he sits down with his food a while later, he allows himself a glance at his messages, as a reward for his restraint. 

we don’t have to do the anthem, right?

Not this time. Just show up and have fun. As long as we get some tickets to the next gig, of course

well then… i’d love to! 

everyone else says they already have plans :(

Quinn takes a deep, calming breath, trying to summon up some courage. He thinks of Y/N, wide eyed and beautiful, calling him brave, but the image actually makes him more nervous. He shoots off a text anyway, before he can overthink it too much. 

Tough crowd. But you still wanna go? We could grab dinner or drinks after

He does a few laps around his apartment, wearing down his rug a bit more, before his phone buzzes. Quinn’s not proud of how quickly he dives back onto the couch, but at least no one is around to see. 

i was hoping you’d say that :) 

see you then!

Well, that settles that. Quinn does a few more nervous laps, suddenly feeling keyed up despite very recently finishing a grueling practice. He’s trying to mentally settle himself before he does something dumb, like tear through his closet and stare at every game day suit he has and decide he hates them all. But, he’s not quite sure where to put all the nervous energy he has. He forces himself to sit back down, thumbs moving across his phone screen. 

Need any gear? I can have someone bring you some

He doesn’t want to name the feeling that compelled him to ask. But it grows when, a few minutes later, Y/N answers. It’s another picture, but not from the other night. A mirror selfie. She’s in leggings and a Canucks jersey, facing forward but twisted just enough for Quinn to read the backwards 43 on her arm. His stomach soars, or free falls, he’s not quite sure which.

[image]

born and raised fan, remember? my parents would disown me if i showed up to a game without a jersey

He decides to play it cool, trying to slow his heart rate by joking around.  

Looks good, outdated though. Gotta get a C patch

Y/N’s response is quick, like she’d been waiting around for his reaction. Quinn tries not to think about it too hard, tries not to put too much stake into all of these little signs that a girl like Y/N is interested in him. 

🙄 not all of us have an equipment team

I’ll take care of it. See you tomorrow, Y/N

see yaaaaaa

good luck! 🍀

Quinn swears he moves through the rest of his day like normal. He goes through the motions, and he tries to pay as little attention as possible to his wandering thoughts. He’s used to fixating on hockey, trying to predict how games will go. Forecasting what will go right, and, maybe more importantly, what will go wrong. He’s built his career off of his attention to detail, his extra effort. It’s easy, and comfortable, to prepare for games with his team. As the hours go by, inching ever closer to puck drop, he can’t deny his excitement. For the opportunity to keep playing the game he loves, with his guys, for their fans. And maybe, just maybe, he also pictures Y/N, swathed in one of his jerseys with red cheeks from the cold of the rink, wearing that bright smile. He thinks about taking her on a date after the game, and how badly he wants to impress her, like she impressed him with her music. Thank goodness, he’s been working all his life to rise to the occasion when he’s out on the ice.

--

hiding a playlist/song recs in this fic bc i love u all.. songs directly referenced are fade into you by mazzy star, aftertaste by katie gavin (title inspo!), and juna by clairo! the "original song" is actually starling by sarah kinsley, and her music is GORGEOUS i highly recommend if you like indie singer/songwriter vibes.

some other artists i'd recommend you listen to ~for the vibes~:

phoebe bridgers, boygenius, mitski, fiona apple, and the newest beabadoobee album was super inspirational for this!!

if u made it this far you should send me a song rec of your own hehe

[vlvttt]

[5.1k] with the hughes bowl around the corner, luke is finding it hard to push away his doubtful thoughts. fortunately, he has a friend who’s willing to keep his mind preoccupied with far more sinful thoughts. unfortunately, he’s pretty sure he’s in love with said friend. (smut)

series masterlist

.

Luke Hughes felt lost. 

Not physically, fortunately. He was very much aware of where he was—on his bed in the apartment he shared with his older brother, just to prove his point—but it brought him little to no comfort to be in the place he called home for the majority of the year. 

To be completely honest, Luke didn’t even know what he considered home anymore. Whether it was the house he grew up in in Toronto. Or the one in Michigan. Or the crappy shared house he moved into with the boys in college. Or even the lakehouse he has spent the last few summers in.

They felt familiar and homely at points in his life, but now he wasn’t sure. 

There was a voice in the back of his head that told him New Jersey was his home now, that he had accepted as much the day his name was called in the draft. He knew he would be following in Jack’s footsteps, he would be moving to a new state and he would be integrating himself into the city. That he was now a part of the hockey team that the locals held near and dear to their heart, that they saw him as one of them now. 

And for a little while, he got it. 

He found a sense of comfort in their shared apartment, in living with his brother again after years of only sharing summers together. He found comfort in the days after games where he would come back home and collapse on his bed, or after roadies where he could finally return to normalcy. 

He was fine with it.

Hockey was all about adapting and persevering to new environments. He could handle the hotel rooms and stiff pillows because he knew he would eventually come back to the place he called home. 

But something felt off this time around. 

They had landed pretty late in New Jersey coming off their ten day roadie and Luke had expected to find a sense of solace in the fact he would be able to fall face first into his own bed with no alarms or annoying brothers prepared to wake him up at some ungodly hour the next day. 

Instead, Luke just felt…lost. 

It was the only way he could describe the tenseness in his body for the last two weeks. He felt on edge, constantly alert. He felt like his body was moving through his daily routine but his head was far, far away. He felt like he was trying to catch up with everything, like he was seeing everything happen through his own two eyes but couldn’t quite seem to process what was happening. 

His body was on autopilot and he was clawing on the inside for some control. 

It wasn’t a completely foreign feeling to him. He had felt similarly through the later years in high school and college, when the classes started getting a little harder and he was fighting to stay afloat to the point his brain just shut down and his body kept moving.

He had never really felt that way about hockey before but it was just another one of those things that professional hockey threw at him whilst he desperately tried to cling on to what he knew. 

There was a voice in the back of his head that told him he should be responsible and logical and tell someone. He should say something to Jack, to see if his brother had any advice. Or maybe even Quinn. Or even Nico, since the captain had reassured him time and time again that Luke was one of his boys too. 

He should tell someone because he knew what he was feeling wasn’t normal and wasn’t good in the long run. But unfortunately that logical voice was completely overshadowed by the one telling him that he couldn’t go running to others whenever he had a problem, that he had to learn to cope and adapt, that he couldn’t face saying to the people around him that he was struggling when they were all so excited he finally made it to the big leagues. 

His parents. His friends. The hundreds of fans that had been counting down the days until all three Hughes brothers would make it to the NHL. 

He couldn’t let them think he wasn’t made for the tough life of professional hockey, but he felt like he was going to go out of his mind if he didn’t tell someone. If he didn’t have someone who would get it, who wouldn’t judge him for the doubts plaguing his mind. 

It was close to two in the morning when Luke reached for his phone, opening up his contacts and pressing your name far quicker than should have been possible. But it felt like muscle memory as he clicked your contact, his thumbs typing a message and hitting send before he could think twice. 

hockey boy: hey u up?

Luke wasn’t really expecting you to reply, if he was being honest. Maybe a follow up message in the morning but he assumed you would be fast asleep by now, as any normal person would be. He let out a huff as his head dropped back against his pillow, his eyes blankly staring at the ceiling above as he contemplated what he could do to fall asleep quicker. However, he was pleasantly surprised when his phone buzzed on his chest. 

cherry🍒: oooh i think i know how this one goes 

cherry🍒: i hope you’re wearing something sexy ;) 

Luke breathed out a laugh, shaking his head fondly as he quickly typed a response.

hockey boy: no no

hockey boy: just wanted to talk 

hockey boy: couldn’t get to sleep

Your reply came much faster this time.

cherry🍒: everything okay?? 

hockey boy: yeah don’t worry about it 

cherry🍒: bullshit

cherry🍒: get dressed, see in fifteen minutes 

hockey boy: ????? 

However, your reply never came. Instead, Luke was left staring at his phone screen for a few minutes with his brows furrowed in utter confusion before his brain seemed to snap on. He scrambled to push the duvet off of him and quickly shuffle towards his wardrobe, picking clothes that he is pretty sure were clean before shoving his keys and phone into his pocket. 

He glanced down, seeing another message from you telling him to come outside and his chest tightened a little. It felt something close to the adrenaline he got before he stepped on the ice, that rush that he was really doing this—except this time he was sneaking out like some rebellious teenager who was trying not to wake his brother up. 

God knows what wild assumptions Jack would come up with as to why his little brother was sneaking out at two in the morning.

You were already smiling at him when he spotted your car, waving him over as the cold winter night chill made him regret not grabbing another layer beyond the hoodie he slipped on. He quickly rushed over, letting out a sigh of relief when he was instantly hit with warmth as he slipped into the passenger seat before he turned to look at you.

“Hi,” he whispered, because it just felt right to do so.

“Hi,” you grinned back at him before nodding at him. “Put your seatbelt on.” 

He raised his brows, but he did as he was told. “You gonna tell me where we are going?” 

Your grin widened. “Nope.” 

Luke tilted his head. “Are you taking me somewhere to kill me or something?” 

“Yeah because killing a six foot something hockey player who could probably throw me into the Hudson River with ease is exactly what I planned to do with my Wednesday night,” you snorted, shaking your head as you began to pull out of your parking spot.

“You could push me in when I’m not looking,” Luke countered.

Your lips twitched. “I’ll keep that in mind but that’s not the plan for tonight.” 

“Remind me never to go to the river with you.”

…

“You know, I’m pretty sure this is the exact opposite of what the trainers recommended.” 

“I don’t see you complaining.” 

“Oh, I’m not. Just pointing out a fact.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you lightly shoved the boy settled in the backseat next to you whilst he beamed in response. You were parked in some random, empty parking lot. You weren’t exactly sure where but it was far away enough from the rest of the world for you to deem it the perfect spot. 

After annoying you for five minutes, Luke had fallen silent when you pulled into a McDonald’s drive thru and proceeded to order far more than was necessary for two people. But Luke only grinned, making some comment about dragging you into the river with him if his trainers found out that you just snorted at. 

And now, the two of you were huddled into the backseat of your car, eating away whilst his phone played some country album he was insistent to get you to like in the front of the car in one of the cupholders that was meant for your drinks. 

“So,” Luke started, leaning over to steal a fry from your stash before you could slap his hand away. “Why are we here? Decided to give me a pity meal before you killed me?” 

“Maybe,” you grinned, leaning over to steal a handful of his fries before he had the chance to stop you. “You just seemed like you needed to get out of your head a bit. This is what I do.” 

He raised his brows. “A midnight McDonald’s run?” 

“Sometimes it’s McDonald’s, sometimes it’s cookies,” you shrugged in response. “The snack changes. But the drive away from everything is what helps. God knows how many times I’ve done it when I was drowning in assignments or at work.”

He swallowed. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” your smile softened a little. “What’s up, bud? What’s got you like this?” 

“I…” Luke paused, trying to string his thoughts together but it was hard when they were swirling around in his head. “I don’t know. I just feel like I have spent the last few weeks like a robot, doing what I was supposed to be doing. But not…doing it. If that makes sense.” 

You nodded, your face remaining serious even if Luke was pretty sure he would have laughed at how bizarre it sounded if the roles were reversed. “You’re playing some intense games. Maybe your brain just needed a break.” 

“But I don’t want a break,” he said with a huff, frustrated at himself more than anything. “This is what I’ve been training for all my life. I should be able to fucking handle it.” 

“You can and you are,” you said to him. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t get some extra help along the way.” 

“Like what?” Luke snorted. “The other boys on the team—”

“Probably understand exactly what you’re going through,” you interrupted, nudging your knee against his. “You’d be surprised what you don’t know about a person, Luke.” 

He hummed, not saying much more as he stared at you with an inquisitive look. 

“You’re still playing really well,” you assured him, shifting your gaze away from him and back towards your food. “At least, most of the commenters are saying that. A few of them are dicks though. I have made a list of the ones I don’t like.” 

Luke laughed, somehow not surprised by that. “Yeah, kinda comes with the territory. I’m not gonna be everyone’s favourite player.” 

“Well, I think they are stupid,” you told him, your nose scrunched up slightly. “You’re my favourite player.” 

“Because you’re not biassed at all,” he teased.

“Hm, you’re right. I should be fairer,” you grinned at him, something quite like mischief shining in your eyes. “You’re playing the Canucks soon, right? I heard there’s this Hughes guy on the team that is really good—”

“Ha, ha,” Luke deadpanned before frowning a little. “I’m surprised you know.” 

“Please, it’s the only thing I’ve heard about for your last few days,” you said, scoffing a little in disbelief. Then again, Luke was rarely watching his games back with the running commentary over them. “The Hughes Bowl has quite a name to it though, I’m excited.” 

“Do you want to watch it?” Luke blurted out. “Like, in person.” 

You paused. “As in watching it in the arena?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, swallowing back his nerves. “I can get you a ticket. I happen to know a guy on the team or something.” 

You snorted. “Really? I’m happy to just watch it from home. I don’t want to put you in a tight position trying to get a ticket or anything.” 

“Nah, I can get you a ticket,” Luke reassured you, waving off your concerns. “Just one condition.” 

You raised your brows. “Oh?” 

“You gotta wear number forty-three,” he said with a grin. “Painted on your cheek or something. Proper puck bunny.” 

You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder but his heart stuttered a little at the sound of your laugh.

“Alright, Hughes, I’ll be your puck bunny for the night because I’m a good friend like that.” 

And he chose to ignore the way the taste in his mouth instantly soured at that, instead leaning over to try and steal one of the chicken nuggets from your box instead. 

…

When Luke thought of going pro, he thought of high-speed skating and fast-paced games against some of the best players in the world. 

Never once in his daydreams as a child did he ever consider the media aspect of the job. Nor did he consider the fact it would be so fascinating to people that three brothers would be playing in one game. 

Which, in retrospect, he did understand why. He just really wished he was not one of the brothers. 

The whole week had been countless interviews and conferences of journalists asking the same question in different ways and Luke was losing his mind. 

How does it feel to play with your brothers in the NHL? 

Did you ever think the three of you would be playing in a NHL game together? 

Will your parents support different teams or both?

Are you excited to finally play Quinn on the ice after being on the same team as Jack for a few months now? 

Are your parents proud of all three sons playing together? 

Luke was surprised his mind hadn’t exploded after the third day of the insistent questioning. And he knew both Quinn and Jack were getting the same treatment, getting thrown questions every few minutes about Luke finally joining them in the big leagues. 

But it did little to squash the anxiety that had been bubbling in his chest all week. 

It felt like everyone was expecting a spectacle. It felt like suddenly all eyes were on them, on him. He wasn’t just a normal rookie anymore, suddenly he was the third Hughes brother that was meant to show how great and amazing he was compared to his brothers. Suddenly, it felt way more intense than an average game in the season. 

And yet, everyone else seemed excited whilst he felt like the only one who was drowning once again. 

“This is a cop out! You have to pick one!” 

“She’s trying to save your feelings because she would have obviously chosen a Canucks jersey.” 

“You’re both so immature,” Ellen commented, rolling her eyes fondly at her two eldest sons. “Luke hasn’t complained once.” 

Luke snapped out of his daze when all eyes turned to him. “Uh, yeah, the shirts are cool, Mom.” 

Ellen frowned a little. “Are you okay, honey? Jack, are you taking care of your little brother?” 

“Oh, he’s fine,” Jack waved off his parents, his legs swinging as he sat on the kitchen counter with a Cheshire Cat grin on his face. “Lukey just has performance anxiety because his girlfriend is watching tonight.” 

“Girlfriend?” Ellen repeated before turning to her youngest with a smile. “You didn’t tell us we were meeting your girlfriend tonight.”

“Because you’re not,” Luke quickly bit out, shooting Jack an exasperated look. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a friend. And her seat is in a different section.” 

“Just a friend,” Quinn snorted. “Sure, bud.” 

“Be nice,” Jim shot his eldest son a look. 

“Actually,” Luke suddenly shot up onto his feet. “I have to give her her ticket so I should get going. I’ll see you guys at the arena.” 

Ellen frowned. “Luke—” 

“Didn’t you say her ticket was waiting at the front office?” Jack questioned with a confused frown.

“Change of plans! I have to take it to her! Bye!” 

Luke didn’t give anyone in his family much chance to further question his behaviour before he was barrelling out the door, bag in one hand and his car keys (because yes, he did finally purchase his own car after Jack kept bitching) in the other. 

His brain was in overdrive as he started the car, his body once again working on muscle memory as he started the route to your apartment. It occurred to him as a passing thought that he should have messaged you to warn you, or check you were even home. But he never did.

Instead, he showed up at your door, knocking exactly three times before he paced his spot until the door swung open. 

And then every single thought left his brain the second he saw you. 

“Luke?” 

He cleared his throat. “I…game…ticket?” 

You laughed, a little nervous. “What?” 

“I’m sorry for showing up like this,” he murmured, shaking his head as he tried to get ahold of himself. “Everyone was talking about the game and I started spiralling and…here I am!” 

“Come in,” you said in a softer voice, your fingers wrapped around his wrist as you pulled him into the apartment, letting the door close behind him.

You guided him through the apartment, pulling him towards the kitchen and letting him settle back against the counter as he watched you grab a glass from the cupboard to fill it up with water for him. Or at least, he was trying to passively watch you and not focus on your attire that was making his head spin for a whole new reason. 

“I, uh,” he paused, clearing his throat. “I like your outfit.” 

“Yeah?” You grinned at him over your shoulder, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the deep red lipstick staining your mouth. “Is it puck bunny enough?” 

His eyes moved from your red lips to the number 43 painted on both cheeks before glancing down at the oversized Devils hoodie you had on. It had his number on the front, and on the sleeve. In fact, he was surprised they even sold those hoodies considering— 

“Is that my hoodie?” He questioned, straightening up a little whilst you just shrugged innocently. 

“I was working on a time crunch for merch to wear,” you answered with a smile. “And it was easier to steal considering you left it here the other day.”

“I would have given you it if you asked,” Luke murmured, thanking you as he took the glass of water from you and took a small sip. “Or I would have given you my jersey.”

Your nose scrunched. “Pretty sure you need that.” 

“I have spare ones,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes when you laughed in response. “You look good.” 

“I’m glad I passed the test,” you teased as you leaned against the counter beside him. “Now, wanna tell me what’s up? I thought you were going to talk to someone about this.” 

“I was. I just…didn’t know when,” Luke admitted shyly before sighing, placing the glass behind him on the counter. “I don’t know, I just feel like my head is spinning with so many thoughts and I don’t know how to shut it off. And that’s, like, the last thing I need before a game. Let alone this game!” 

You nodded in understanding.

“I just feel like there’s so many people I might possibly let down and I just can’t shake it off,” Luke added, his lips turned downwards. “I just want it to stop.” 

“You know,” you started. “I may have a temporary solution.” 

“Yes. Whatever it is. Yes.” 

“Luke,” you shot him a look. “You don’t even know what it is. Remember what we said about consent?” 

“I thought that was about sex stuff, why—” He paused, his lips parting in surprise. “Is your solution a sex thing?” 

You huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, it’s a sex thing. Do you trust me?” 

“Yeah,” Luke replied instantly. “Of course I do.” 

“Okay, good, then just let me take care of you,” you murmured before you leaned in to kiss him. 

Luke felt his shoulders drop a little the second he felt your lips on his, the second he felt your tongue darting out and teasing his own. His hands dropped to your waist to pull you closer, a soft moan leaving his lips as his hands slipped down to palm your ass. 

He was so lost in the sensation of kissing you—something he hadn’t done in a few days, thank you very much—that he barely noticed the way your fingers traced along the waistband of his trousers until the heel of your palm pressed down against his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Luke muttered under his breath, his brain lagging behind as he tried to keep up with your kisses as you began to palm his cock over his clothes. “Cherry, I—” 

“We can stop, if you want,” you reassured him, lightly nudging your nose against his. “Just say the word.” 

“Please don’t stop,” Luke rasped. 

Luke barely had a chance to process the wolfish smile on your face before you slid to your knees in front of him, one hand continuing to stroke him whilst the other moved to unbutton his pants. His mouth went dry at the sight.

“Cherry—” 

“Trust me, yeah?” 

Luke nodded. 

“Good boy,” you smiled before pulling his trousers down to his ankles. 

His hands shifted to grasp the counter behind him, leaning against it for support as he watched you lean forward and press a soft, feather-light kiss over his boxers. And then another. And another. All along the length of his cock before you reached the tip and lightly sucked over the material of his boxers. 

“Oh shit,” Luke swore, his knuckles going white at how hard he was holding onto the counter. 

“Just relax,” you hummed, your words vibrating against him as your fingers hooked on the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down his legs until they joined his pants by his ankles. “Gonna take care of you, help you get out of your head a little.

“Mhm,” Luke nodded, his voice a little more high-pitched than he would have liked. 

His eyes were glued to you, like he couldn’t even look away if he wanted to (not that he did). His eyes were transfixed on the way your hands gripped the base of his cock, the way his tip teased the same red painted lips he had been losing his mind over since you opened the door. 

Luke tucked his bottom lip between his teeth to try save some of his dignity when you shamelessly sucked on the head of his cock, moaning around him like it you were the one being pleasured. 

His chest felt like it was about to be caved in from his heavy pants, his fingers itching to pull the rest of his clothes off as you started moving your head, as you started bobbing and stroking him. 

He let out a choked out noise, something stuck between a moan and a whine as you took him deeper into your mouth. As your red lips wrapped around his cock, painting his skin the same colour as your lipstick. As your cheeks hallowed and the sight of his number painted on your face whilst you stared up at him with wide eyes became his favourite fucking sight in the whole world. 

And then you were moaning too, the feeling of your mouth vibrating around his cock so overwhelming that he could have sworn his knees actually buckled.

You pulled off, your hand still pumping up and down the length of his cock as you grinned up at him, unbothered and uncaring about the mess. Your lips were wet and smudged, a string of saliva just breaking from your lip to the tip of his cock. You leaned back on your knees, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks, glossy eyes and red lips he had bitten raw trying to hold back his moans. 

“God, look at you,” you mused, your thumb sliding over the slit on the tip of his cock. Your smile widened when he let out a shaky, breathless moan. “You look so pretty like this, Luke, wish you could see yourself.” 

“Bet—” He took a deep breath. “—my perspective is so much better.” 

“Yeah?” You hummed, leaning in to lick the beads of precome leaking from his lip. “You like this baby?” 

He nodded. “So much.”

“Good,” you smiled up at him, your eyes remaining on his face as you teased his cock along your lips again. “Be a good boy and come for me then.” 

There wasn’t a single thought in his head other than youyouyouyouyou. He could barely care about the state he was in or the fact he was probably due to head to rink soon because you were on your knees in front of him, bobbing your head up and down on his cock, taking him so deep that your nose was brushing the curls at the base of his cock. 

He could feel his muscles tensing, his hands grasping onto the counter like a lifeline as he shamelessly moaned your name as you kept going and going and going until he was coming down your throat. 

Luke wasn’t even sure at what point he closed his eyes, his head spinning as his orgasm washed over him and almost knocked him off his feet. He let out a shaky breath, slowly blinking his eyes open to look down and find you slowly swiping a dribble of his come that escaped and sucking it back into your mouth.

“Fuck,” Luke groaned, his dick pathetically twitching at the sight. He almost wished he could take a picture of you, just for himself to hoard. “You’re going to kill. Like, actually kill me.”

You laughed, your eyes glittering with an emotion he couldn’t quite understand. “Don’t die on me before I see you play in person, Hughes. You’ll let down your favourite puck bunny.” 

Luke could only roll his eyes fondly. “I’ll score a couple of goals for you to say thank you for the blowjob.” 

“I want a hatrick, Hughes.”

…

Luke did manage to score a goal at the end of the second period. 

And just to make it a little bit sweeter, the Devils did win the Hughes Bowl, much to Quinn’s dismay. 

But the lingering anxiety that had been gnawing at him for the last week was nowhere to be found as he felt his teammates laugh and hug and cheer around him, buzzing as they huddled their way down the tunnel and back towards the locker room. 

Jack was grinning as wide as he was as they peeled off their gear, rushing through their post-game routine and speeches so they could meet their parents and Quinn outside. He was letting himself get sucked into the celebrations, listening to whatever god awful playlist Nate had put on as they continued to mess about in the locker room, high off their win. 

“You should invite your friend to dinner,” was the first thing Ellen said once he and Jack exited the locker room. “To celebrate your win.” 

“And Quinn’s loss,” Jack added with a grin.

“Watch it,” Jim murmured, but it was fond as he wrapped his arm around Quinn. “We are proud of all three of you.”

“And we will kick your asses next time,” Quinn said in that quiet, confident tone only he could do. 

“Yeah, she should be hanging about. Let me text her,” Luke said, still riding off high spirits as he stepped away from his family and pulled his phone out. He couldn’t fight back the smile off his face when he found some messages already waiting from you.

cherry🍒: YOU SCOOOOORED!!! 

cherry🍒: i’m taking that as payment for earlier 

cherry🍒: you guys won because of a lucky blowjob

cherry🍒: wooooo!! you won my first live hockey game!! congrats!! 

hockey boy: hey u still around? 

cherry🍒: no sorry :( 

cherry🍒: i left after the final buzzer 

cherry🍒: why? what’s up?

Luke frowned a little, trying to fight the way his stomach twisted at the fact you left so quickly. He thought the unspoken invite to hang behind with him was obvious but apparently not. 

hockey boy: just wanted to see u after the game

hockey boy: jack keeps talking about u so my parents invited you to dinner 

cherry🍒: aw that’s nice of them, tell them thanks!

cherry🍒: but this night should be for you and your family!!

cherry🍒: not exactly a place for a friend haha 

cherry🍒: but we can celebrate together tomorrow after practice?

hockey boy: yeah sure 

hockey boy: i’ll come over 

cherry🍒: enjoy rubbing in the win to your brother ;)

“Luke?”

Luke cleared his throat, quickly locking his phone and slipping it back into his pocket before he turned back to his parents. He put on a smile, one that felt far too similar to the media smile he gave the cameras, and shrugged his shoulders in response. 

“My friend is busy, other plans or something,” he lied through his teeth. “She said thank you for the offer though.” 

“Aw, maybe next time,” Ellen smiled. 

Luke only nodded in response, following his parents and his brothers out into the players’ car park as he ignored the bitter, ugly feeling bubbling in his stomach at the use of friend. He knew that’s what the two of you were, you had said so multiple times and so had he.

But Luke couldn’t help but wonder if there was a chance for something more. He couldn’t help but imagine a world where you would attend more games, where he would leave the locker room and you would be waiting for him beside his parents. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if you had been more than a friend in his head for far longer than he cared to admit. 

And he really couldn’t help but wonder if he was stuck in the friendzone for good with you. 

.

[vlvttt]

jg white bambula seams dress

[vlvttt]

Metanoia ;

Aemond Targaryen x Transmigrated!Strong!Reader

>> Chapter I : The Beginning.

Summary: "Be careful what you wish for" is what everyone says, you realise that you should've taken them seriously when you find yourself reincarnated as a character in the show who never existed.

WARNINGS: CANON TYPICAL INCEST, CONTAINS SPOILERS OF F&B, S1 AND S2, reader's appearance isn't described, only the fact that she is a strong, you can imagine her however you like, the picture used in the header is only to capture the feel of the story. A/N: divider credits to @cafekitsune

masterlist // next

“Jesus Christ, fuck this show, fuck everything, what the fuck is wrong with the writing?” You exclaim in annoyance after witnessing the scene that was supposed to be heavily impactful be butchered.

“That is the most anticlimactic death scene I've ever witnessed, this has to be a joke.” You furiously ramble. You decided to give House of The Dragon a try after your friend had recommended it, the show currently has released three seasons, with the fourth season in production, you thoroughly enjoyed season one and decided to binge all the seasons.

However, everything started to go downhill from season two, yet you still decided to watch for the sake of your favourite characters, daemon and aemond, only to witness the battle that was supposed to be intense and stressful get finished in the span of two minutes.

You stared at the screen, rolling your eyes in annoyance as you witnessed Aemond falling into the lake along with Vhagar, Daemon was knocked off Caraxes too and fell to his death.

They wrapped up the battle in mere moments, which made you angry as you were so hyped up to see them fight.

You yawned loudly, stretching out your limbs and blinking your eyes rapidly, your vision began to get blurry and you sighed in content, finally willingly wanting to sleep after you forced yourself to stay up all night to binge the series.

“Ugh, I never hated a show more than this, waste of my time, they did season one so well, what happened to rest? I did not expect this.” You sigh in frustration, feeling like you just wasted your time.

“If only… If only I ever get a chance, I'd change entire plot and script because fuck this.” You lay down on your sofa, staring at the ceiling, the show still playing in the background. You recollected the entire plot in your head, thinking of every moment in the show, trying to come up with an easy solution.

“If only they had married Jace to Helaena, it would have been peaceful.. Or at least if they had an older daughter married to Aegon or Aemond.” You mumble, but then shake your head, “What am I saying? Things still would've been complicated anyway.” You wonder in disbelief at your own words.

Your vision darkened slowly as you closed your eyelids, head spinning as you took slow breaths of air, cool breeze brushes past your cheeks and before you know it, you're slowly succumbing into slumber.

You blink your eyes open, realising you fell asleep, you sigh stirring on the soft sheets, entangling them between your legs.

Soft sheets?

Your sofa doesn't have any sheets.

You quickly blink again, taking the note of a translucent veil hanging from above, surrounding the bed you're in, creating a curtain around your bed.

Why were you in bed?

You sit up looking around, taking in your surroundings, your eyes widening in fear as you don't recognize this room at all, ancient tapestries, brown wooden furniture, and the source of light being only from the candle.

Have you been kidnapped?

You look down at your body, noticing you are in a white nightgown instead of the shorts you fell asleep in. Your heart begins to race and you panic, unable to understand where you are or how you got there. You steady your breathing, wondering if someone kidnapped you to play a role in a mediaeval film of theirs? But why would anyone do that?

The sound of metal clanking harshly against the floor and a small scream made your head turn the direction it came from, the liquid in the decanter spilling out rapidly as the person behind the fallen cutlery stood in shock.

“The princess is conscious!” She yells loudly before turning around and running out of the room in a hurry.

Princess?

Is this a prank?

You barely have any moment to think when you hear the sound of multiple footsteps coming from outside to your direction, you could almost feel the ground rumbling, noting that everyone was rushing to this room.

You push the veil to the side and stand up, getting out the bed and examining your surroundings, looking at the sigils and the paintings. All of this looked familiar somehow.

A small gasp echoed through the room, coming from the entrance, which made you turn around to take a look at who was in the room once again. Your eyes widened at the sight.

A lady with platinum blonde hair, blue eyes stood in front of you, someone who resembled Rhaenyra and next to her stood Jace and Luke breathing heavily, looking at you in shock.

Did the house of the dragon cast kidnap you to play a prank on you?

That sounds too unreasonable.

“Oh my sweet daughter!” Rhaenyra rushes over to you, embracing you tightly, tears flow down her cheeks as she peppers you with kisses “I-i i cannot believe this, you finally woke up after many years.” She sobs, you look at her questioningly. “Sister.” Jacaerys speaks up, coming to you and joining the embrace of you and Rhaenyra, Luke joins in as well.

“We missed you.” Jace says and you stare at all of them confused.

This has to be a joke.

They notice the expression on your face and their faces immediately drop, “Your grace, the princess woke up after many years, she might not be able to recognise you.” The maester chimes in, Rhaenyra nods, sniffling yet understanding your condition.

“Emma? Is this a joke?” You question, referring to the actor of Rhaenyra, “I’m not Aemma darling, she is your grandmother.” Rhaenyra corrects you. “I think she must be confusing the names of everyone due to her hazy memory.” The maester tries explaining, you sigh.

Yeah this must be a dream.

You shake your head gently and immediately slap yourself to wake yourself up.

“Ouch!” You yell in pain, cupping the cheek you slapped yourself on, Rhaenyra is mortified and the guards rush in and hold your arms back so you don't further hurt yourself.

This is not a dream.

You can’t feel pain in your dreams and you will wake up right before impact.

You look at Rhaenyra’s face, she is as real as a living person, standing right in front of you.

She looks just like Emma. of course, after all Rhaenyra is indeed played by them.

But this is not them.

She is not Emma

You can feel the vibe, it's very different.

You’ve met Emma before in costume, yet they did not give off the vibes as what Rhaenyra is giving off right now, after all, when you met them; it was just a show, but now it's your reality.

Did you die in your world?

You’ve definitely transmigrated into this show, but as who?

Did Rhaenyra ever have a daughter? You knew she didn't.

“Mirror, get me a mirror.” You ask and they look at you questioningly, your form begins to shake as the realisation is too overwhelming, there are many questions in your mind, “Please!” You cry, and immediately a servant moves and rushes over with a mirror.

Your eyes widen.

It's you.

You had not become someone else, but you remained as yourself. “What is my name?” You ask, “Y/N.” Rhaenyra replies. Your mind begins to spin, you are in another world as yourself, you have not possessed anyone else, which means your body must’ve disappeared from your world.

You try to stay calm in this situation, breathing heavily, “You are?” You ask, wanting to reconfirm, you watch as Rhaenyra's face crumples into that of a sad face, probably feeling hurt that her own daughter doesn't recognise her.

“I'm your mother, you are my eldest daughter, they—” She points at Jace, Luke and Joffrey, “—are your younger siblings.” You turn towards them.

You nod, pretending to play the part while you figure out everything. “I'm sorry, I do not remember.” You apologise and Rhaenyra shakes her head, “It is alright, you have been unconscious since the past six years, this is better than losing my daughter.” She replies.

“Six years… Did I fall unconscious after Aemond lost his eye?” You think out loud and Rhaenyra looks at you in shock, “You remember him?” She asks and you clear your throat, “It's hazy, my memory.” You answer back.

“Your grace, the event was probably traumatic for her, hence why she can remember it in parts.” The maester explains it to Rhaenyra, you mentally thank the maester for covering up for you always.

You noticed how they were all dressed up, looked as if they were about to leave but their plans were cut short, and you recognize this gown of Rhaenyra.

It was the gown she wore when she left for King's Landing, in order to settle the matter of Luke's right to driftmark. “You guys were departing somewhere?” You ask, wanting to really confirm it, “Hm? Huh, Yes, We were about to leave for King's Landing.” Jacaerys answers your question.

“Can I tag along?” You blurt the question.

“.. Tag along?” Lucerys repeats your words in confusion, your language confusing him.

“I mean to say, can I come along?” You ask the question in a proper manner, Rhaenyra shakes her head, “No- you've just woken up, you might still be weak- I cannot risk-”

“Mother! I am perfectly fine!” You cut her off, breaking free from the guards hands and running around the room, doing jumping jacks, showing her that you aren't weak and are perfectly capable of physical activity.

Rhaenyra watches in shock, seeing you move like this but she chuckles, shaking her head in comic disbelief, “I guess she has not changed after all.” The maester comments which makes Jace and Luke smile.

“Very well, Pack the princess’ belongings, and get her ready for departure, we will depart two days later.” Rhaenyra orders the maids and you smile at her.

“But mother, I do not have many dresses—”

“You do, I had them tailored every year, whenever you grew, hoping that you would wake up.” She replies softly and you just then realise how Rhaenyra loves her children.

“The maesters said that you might not ever wake up, and that your body will be stunted from growth, yet… I'm glad their predictions never came true.” She smiles gently at you, you smile back.

The maids come in with a bath as everyone leaves, some of them begin packing your belongings. You notice how your body doesn't look how a person in a coma state should be looking especially in the mediaeval times, but instead you seem to be well taken care of, treated as if you were alive.

The maids quickly finish your bath and dress you up, you have to pretend to get used to this atmosphere and era even though you're highly uncomfortable, the mere thought of having servants made you feel bad.

And with that, the night fell, you couldn't sleep thinking about how you're going to deal with everything, could you really prevent war from happening? It happens due to a misunderstanding in the show right? What if the misunderstanding doesn't occur? Your mind was filled with such thoughts through the whole night.

In King's Landing.

“My queen, Rhaenyra, has sent a letter saying that their arrival will be delayed further.” The master sums up the contents of the letter in the council room, in front of Aemond who had been called by Alicent for an urgent matter.

“Why so?” Alicent asks, furrowing her brows.

“Princess Y/N had woken up from her unconscious state.”

An ear piercing shattering sound of glass is heard through the entire room, when turned to look at the origin, It is known that Aemond had dropped the wine glass he was drinking from.

“Y/N is awake?” Aemond asks the maester.

“Yes my prince.” The maester replies.

Aemond's heart begins to pound in his chest loudly, his mind spiralling at the thought of you finally waking up all these years later.

“Please excuse me.” Aemond gets up from the chair, excusing himself from the council and leaving the room, his brain occupied with the thoughts of you.

There wasn't a day where Aemond hadn't thought of you, he would at least think about you once a day- the news of you waking up from unconsciousness made the adrenaline in his body rush.

He felt like a hungry snake that had been starved for many years who at last found a prey to feast on, he felt like a drought-stricken land finally receiving rainfall, he felt like a garden void of any flowers which started to bloom once again.

He was thrilled.

He reminisces of the fond memories you both shared, he could never ever forget them, smiling at the thought of you.

He wondered if you had changed or remained the same.

Whatever it was, he couldn't wait.

He couldn't wait to receive you.

[vlvttt]

ʙᴏɴꜰɪʀᴇ ʟɪᴛ

Cat art I drew In 2020.

[vlvttt]

*found this in my drafts and i was prob heartbroken when I read this lmaooo*

Eddie Munson didn’t do girlfriends, he didn’t do love outside of the platonic kind for that matter. Eddie loved girls, he loved sex, but the romantic bullshit just wasn’t for him. He didn’t have the money to pay for expensive dates, he didn’t have the maturity for a real relationship, and he didn’t even have anyone to bring a significant other home to. He had no family, I mean sure he had Uncle Wayne and Wayne was a great guy. But Wayne worked a lot and he was often grumpy when he came back from work, not the friendliest guy to meet. As a matter of fact, the only person in Eddie’s life who met Wayne was Y/n.

Y/n was someone very dear to Eddie. Y/n was Eddie’s fuck buddy, the girl that maybe he loved a little more than platonically, but most of all, Y/n was Eddie’s best friend.

The whole fuck buddy thing started after a horrible hookup on her end, and Eddie was certain that he could be better than whatever scumbag she went out with that night, and he was. He would never admit how proud he was of that, though.

Eddie is slightly aware of his feelings for his best friend, he’d never tell her, but he would be lying if he said her presence doesn’t make him feel better. That the sight of her doesn’t just have him turned on, but brings him a sense of inner peace. He knows what these feelings are, but he also knows that they’re wrong. People like Eddie don’t deserve to feel those feelings, especially towards someone as great as Y/n. So he’s just letting them be for now, because he knows that she’ll find better eventually and he’s going to be okay with that, because having her as his best friend is good enough.

“Oh fuck Eddie.” Y/n moans from underneath him, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

Eddie rocks above her, panting and moaning the entire time. “Fuck babe I’m close, so fucking close. Oh shit, here I come babe.” He says as his eyes squeeze shut and he fucks his orgasm into her, her climax quickly approaching.

He pulls out and rolls next to her, both of them panting. They make eye contact and smile, both of their stomachs doing flips, neither one knowing about the other.

“We did good, huh?” Eddie says jokingly and pulls a cigarette out, offering her one, which she happily takes.

Y/n laughs out loud and lightly hits his chest, “Shut up.”

“No I’m serious, that was one of our best rounds yet.”

She laughs again, but slowly goes into a trance.

Eddie lightly shakes her shoulder, “What’s wrong y/n/n?”

You look him in the eyes and Eddie gulps, “Eds, I think I’m in love with you.”

Eddie freezes, even though he’s in love with you, he also knows that your feelings aren’t real. Maybe you guys have slept with each other too many times that you’re just getting confused. But you can’t love him and you can’t be in love with him. You’re far too good for him.

“Eddie please say something. Please tell me you feel the same way.”She now has tears in her eyes knowing that she’s going to lose him.

“Y/n, baby, you know I can’t. I’m sorry, but you’ve known me for how long, I’m not a relationship guy.” He says and he shrugs you off.

You look at him incredulously. To not reciprocate feelings is one thing, but to completely blow you off by saying ‘i’m not a relationship” guy after all of your history together, is what makes you mad. And the tone he said it in, too, like an arrogant prick.

“So that’s that? You can’t say anything else.” She says with tears now streaming down her face.

Eddie is feeling a lot of things right now and that’s never good. When he feels too much he gets overwhelmed and deals with it by being angry. He’s never been angry at her before, though, but seeing her cry, mixed with her “confession” and he’s still dealing with his feelings for her, Eddie is feeling more than overwhelmed.

“What else do you want me to fucking say? You’ve known me for how many fucking years? Never once have I done relationships, and you’re no fucking different. What did you think just because we have a bit of history it would make any difference.” He yells at her, taking another puff of his cigarette trying to calm his nerves.

“‘A bit of history’ is that what your chalking up our years of friendship to now? You never act like this with me, and I try to be honest with you and you just lash out on me? I’m your best friend, not some asshole at school, try treating me with a little respect.” She says, finally putting her clothes back on while he stay naked under the covers. Even with the clothes covering her, she’s never felt more exposed in her life.

“Respect?!” Eddie laughs out loud. “I just had you a moaning mess underneath me and you’re demanding respect?” He instantly regrets saying this at the pain on her face, but again, he won’t let her see that.

“You are such a selfish dick, I’m leaving.” She says and starts walking out with tears and mascara streaking her face.

“I may be selfish, but at least I didn’t sleep with my best friend and catch feelings, ruining years of friendship!” He yelled back even though she’s already almost out the front door. Now he’s not only selfish, but a selfish liar.

[vlvttt]

friends with b(aby)enefits (eddie munson x fem!reader)

CONCEPTION: Just friends—what a silly concept. Passing the convention of being just friends, you and Eddie spend a night together... then another four months later. Turns out friends with benefits is also a silly concept because you both get a little more than you bargained for...

cw: 18+!, mature language, petnames, smut, pinv sex (unprotected), creampie (with miscommunication), too much teasing (like really too much). (this fic will contain pregnancy in the future!) an: this chapters mostly just smut yeah. kind of like a preface for whats to come (cum hehe) so it could be read as a standalone??? idk im just a girl wc: 6.2k+

0 / 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 00

Just friends. What a silly concept.

Friends through high school, friends after high school, and now, as two grown adults with grown adult jobs, you and Eddie are just friends.

Friends who, in a partially drunken stupor, hooked up. It was four months ago and obviously wasn’t planned. You two had just gotten a little too tipsy, then a little too handsy-feely, and then… it just happened.

The next morning, you two had parted with an awkward avoidance of eye contact, fidgety hands, and an overemphasized amount of distance between the two of you as you both made the agreed promise to never do that again. 

Never… almost as silly of a concept as just friends.

It started out as small coincidences. 

Four months ago you ordered extra cheese pizza with a side of garlic knots. Tonight, you ordered the same.

Feeling parched from the savory dinner, you helped yourself to a coke from the fridge. The first thing that caught your eye, Iron City Beer– a brand of beer that you rarely ever see in this home, haven't at all since four months ago… four months ago when you drank just a little too much of it. Tonight, you grab your coke and leave the beer untouched. 

Four months ago, you and Eddie sat around in his living room watching some R rated movie. Tonight, you do the same.

Tonight, the choice R rated movie has been using jump cuts to tits and overzealous sex scenes to cover its low production value. 

Tonight, Eddie’s sprawled out on the floor, shirt off, sweatpants low on his hips, arm propped behind his head.

Tonight, you’re all too aware of the bounds of friendship, but tonight, you couldn’t care less. Coincidence after coincidence has you burning hot with the memory of four months ago. 

The movie cuts to a particularly raunchy scene. The main actress: topless, bouncing, very expressive. Normally you’d laugh it off, but tonight, you practically groan, pushing the heels of your palms into your eyes. The moans of some D lister fills the room and you grow impossibly bothered.

Silent on the floor, Eddie pays you no mind. His oblivion is your virtue and you let yourself focus on him. The lights from the TV glow over his body in the darkness of the room. Shadows cast over the outline of every muscle, making them look more defined and extra sculpted.

It's taunting.

It's not how friends look at each other. Friends– what a silly concept.

Wandering gaze trailing down his torso, with a thick swallow, your eyes sweep down, down, down. 

Down, looming around the wispy patch of hair that starts just below his belly button.

Down, lingering at the low rise of his sweatpants. 

Down, until your mouth drops agape and you can't help the gasp that escapes your lungs.

With a crane of his neck, Eddie looks back at you before his hands cover his crotch, hiding his very prominent erection. 

“Don’t look,” he laughs. Totally unembarrassed. 

“I didn’t mean to,” you blurt, taken aback. You meet his eyes and his eyes only, afraid to let your wandering gaze get the best of you again.

His brows raise, looking at you with heavy skepticism until his smirk breaks. “So, you just went from watching this girl’s tits bouncing everywhere to checking out my dick? Sure.” Accusatory and sarcastic. Unabashed. Knowing. 

Eddie sits up, swivelling on the carpet to face you, and you pretend that it doesn’t make your body temperature rise. Attempting to play it cool, you don’t submit to your guiltiness. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that,” you reply flatly. 

His smirk deepens and his dimples threaten to pull your attention but you remain strong and stay narrowed into his eyes. 

He crosses one leg over the other, hiding his protruding length from the conversation. Using his hands, he scoots himself closer to the couch. You have his full attention now as his eyes shimmer with a mischief seeped in curiosity. His mouth opens to speak and you hold your breath.

“Is this turning you on too or…?” he asks, eyes burning into yours. 

Your jaw drops as his unabashed blatancy hits you like a truck. Both your hands condemn you to your guiltiness as they cover your face, hiding your embarrassment. When he's this upfront, you can’t lie. It's a gentle nod, but a nod nonetheless. Yes, this is turning you on. 

Eddie sits up to his knees, excitement radiating from him. “I fucking knew it! Your breathing was all heavy like when we… yeah.” He shows his first hint of sheepishness, cheeks tingeing pink, not because of what happened four months ago but because he just made himself all too transparent– he was also thinking about that night. 

“Oh? So you were thinking about that and then you got hard?” you retort. The only issue is that Eddie's embarrassment is fleeting. Your attempt to flip the narrative to lessen your own embarrassment doesn't faze him. It’s nearly infuriating how unaffected he is, but you should have known better.

“I’m a simple man,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders in all his boyish charm.

“Eddie,’ you laugh in your defeat, hiding in your hands again.

He pushes off the floor, sitting up on the edge of the couch. His palm comes to rest on your thigh, settling gently. 

Moving your hands from your face, his eyes are already on you. He lowers his gaze to his touch on your skin, guiding you to look down. He lets his fingers trail up, reaching the edge of your shorts before trailing back down. Despite the growing goosebumps and the flip of your stomach, his transparency is showing again and you dully try to hold back your laughter.

“Is this…” You let your eyes flick down to his hand and back up to his eyes. “Is this you making a move?” you ask, raising your brows at him. 

“This is me making a move.” He nods, letting the warmth of his palm weigh heavier into the plushness of your thigh. The burn of his skin on yours seeps into your bloodstream, traveling throughout your body, reminding you of the ache that's been growing between your legs all night. 

You make a quick decision, the entrancement of his touch being more than convincing. 

“It's a really shitty attempt at making a move, but I’m biting.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Eddie’s gaze flickers back down to your thigh, squeezing your flesh in his hand before loosening his grip. He looks back at you, eyes burning into yours, making your heart rate pick up. 

“You want to have sex again?” he asks, clarifying what exactly you’re ‘biting’. It’s blatant, it’s brash, it’s straightforward, it’s Eddie. Never one to favor beating around the bush or playing guessing games. 

“Yes.” 

“Well, fuck—” he says, reaching for the remote. “Let’s turn this garbage off then,’ he laughs, hitting the power button, shutting the TV off and darkening the room all at once. He’s quick to stand, pulling you up, muttering ‘bedroom’ under his breath. With his hand on your lower back, he ushers you to the back of the trailer, closing the door behind the two of you.

Just friends is a lost concept as the door clicks shut and he spins you to face him.

Warm hands take claim on your jaw, adding heat to your already scorching cheeks. He pulls you forward, his lips meet yours in a mash of teeth and excitement. Four months ago when you did this, there was more tipsy fumbling than kissing, so it takes you aback, stunning you at first. 

Eddie pulls away, noticing your stun. “S’okay?” he asks in a low rumble, tilting his face down to meet your eyes. You’re fine, just surprised. 

Nodding, you bring your own hands up, feeling the stubble of his jaw as you pull him in, meeting him with a mirrored fervour. You’re more than fine, you want this. You want him.

Half step by half step, he guides you backwards until your calves press to the exposed edge of his mattress, fitted sheet threatening to pull loose and recoil. He leads you back another step, your knees buckle, and you descend, moving to the centre of the bed, bringing the fitted sheet with you, Eddie not far behind at all. He falls with you, body pressing to yours in a tangle. 

After what has felt like a night of taunting, you let your hands roam along his body, feeling everything a friend shouldn’t. You feel from his shoulders, down to his forearms. Greedily you move to his sides, letting your fingers flutter against the ridges of his ribs as you move up to his chest to start the great descent. Down, grazing along the muscles that stole your attention earlier in the night, down where his feathered trail of hair begins, down to the band of his sweatpants that sit even lower than before. You fold your fingers under the elastic, tugging them with silent, lust-filled intention– not at all what friends should do. 

“Want them off already?” he laughs. He presses a quick, loud smack of a kiss to your lips before looking at you with an amused, toothy grin. 

“Off before I change my mind,” you sneer weakly, breathlessly inhaling between words to fill your kiss-ached lungs. Eddie’s brows raise, looking at you with a flippant levity. 

“No need to get hasty,” he responds, amusedly huffing before getting up. You don’t have a second to miss his warmth, in a near blink you watch with desiring eyes as his hands meet the waistband of his pants. He tugs down in a swift pull, letting them fall to the floor. 

He stands tall, pants around his ankles. For the second time in your life, you see Eddie in his full nudity. His cock bobs against his lower belly, taunting but also… thought provoking. As he kicks each leg free from the gathered grey jersey-cotton, you make an entertaining realization. He was never wearing underwear.

“Oh my god,” you laugh, gasping at the revelation. “No wonder I could practically see your dick,” you giggle, throwing yourself back on the bed in a giddy way, rubbing your hands over your face as your laughter free flows. Grey sweatpants and no underwear, comical. How naive of you to not realize.

A manhandling grasp closes around your hips, tugging you to the edge of the bed. Peaking through your fingers as Eddie, he stares down at you, pinching his lips together in a loathsome smirk. 

“I have to wash clothes, okay?” he retorts, amusement hinting in his voice despite his contemptible expression.

“Sure.”

His eyebrows raise in your clear disbelief. He humphs, letting his eyes trail over you, sizing you up. “I'm guessing that Miss Goody-Two-Shoes has underwear on then?” he questions. His demeanor shifts playfully, fingertips dancing from your hips to the top of your shorts.

“Unlike you, Eddie,” you start, matter-of-factly, “I am very diligent with my laundry,” you tease, despite it not being true in the least.

He laughs, fingers running along the waistband of your shorts. “Yeah? Wanna do mine?” He closes a gentle grip over your shorts, tugging them. 

Lifting your hips enough to help him, he pulls them down your thighs, off your legs, tossing them to the side, leaning away just enough to look at you.

 “Aww, look at those pretty panties,” he coos, fiddling with the little bow at the front, flicking it once. 

Smacking his hand away, you mumble a pointed “quit it,” before taking the hem of your sweatshirt in your hands, sitting up to pull it over your head. 

Eddie makes an exaggerated gasp at the reveal, “Well, well,” he tuts. “Miss Goody-Two-Shoes loses her title. Where’s your bra, miss perfect?” he teases. He plays up his dramatics but none of his antics can cover up how entirely entranced he becomes by your bare chest. His eyes are wide and ogling, moving from left to right, and right to left. He swallows thickly but makes it a point to catch your gaze at least one more time, raising his eyebrows at you, waiting for a response to his taunting. 

You scoff, not surprised at all by Eddie’s teasing. You hate to admit it, but it’s one of your favourite things about your friendship— how you two banter. It comes easily to the both of you, and you know it’s from a good place. So you play into it, it wouldn’t be the same if you didn’t. It’s simply what friends do. 

Tilting your head, you quirk a brow at him. “Do you just want to just talk?” you ask. “Should we put our clothes back on?” Gathering the material of your sweater in your hands, you start the motions of putting it back on, watching him pointedly. 

Just when you cover up his ogle-inducing view, pulling him right from his gawk, he takes your top from your hands, frowning as he tosses it over his shoulder. Like the flip of a coin, his expression changes to a deep smirk. You know he means business now as he dives onto the bed next to you, pulling you upwards with him so that your head rests on the pillow. He does it all silently, making it abundantly clear that he's biting his tongue, punctuating the end of his teasing and taunting preamble by quietly positioning you to lay under him.

He lowers himself to you, nudging at your nose with his, coaxing you to tilt your head upwards. With his mouth so close to yours, you anticipate his kiss only to be left waiting, sighing as his lips barely graze yours on their descent downwards. He coasts his lips down the point of your chin, across the edge of your jaw with nothing but the hair-raising almost contact and the heat of his breath on your skin. He moves down, farther and farther, giving you shivers up your spine. His lips finally connect to your skin, pressing a hot, wet kiss to your neck. 

Kiss after kiss to the sensitive skin, you weave a hand through his hair, using your other to grab desperately at his back. The air in your lungs becomes thicker, needier, and you swallow it down with a heat that radiates through your body, hugging the catalyst of your desire closer. His mouth trails across your neck, up, leaving you tingly and the shiver of a chill in his wake. His mouth closes, sucking gently, and you gasp. 

You're not alone in your desperation. The brave hands of a man with nary a shame roam your body, taking no time to ease into feeling you up. His palms smooth down your hips, rounding to snake between your body and the mattress, pressing into your skin as he reaches your backside, going as low as to where the tops of your thighs crease below the cheeks. Touching, feeling, appreciating. 

With liberal squeezes, his hands don’t still for long and neither does his mouth. His hands begin their ascend, and his lips continue their descent. Feeling every curve and angle of your body, you're left needing more when his touch becomes grazing, tickling, taunting– cruel. 

Your low whine turns to a heavy gasp when an exploring hand finds your nipple, pinching it between his thumb and finger, rolling it gently. It's only another tease when he doesn't do the same to the other side.

All encompassing heat, you’re at your ends wit when his kisses become more sparing, turning chaste and gentle, no longer granting you the heat of his mouth against your skin– cruel. 

“Eddie,” you whisper.

“Hm?” he hums between quiet soft kisses against your collarbone. 

“More.”

Abiding silence, he kisses across your chest, reaching the precipice of your other collarbone. Chaste, gentle, soft– cruel. 

“Eddie,” you say, impatiently. 

No avail, not even a hum. His kisses almost breach the plumpness of your breast but he lingers too high to grant you that satisfaction.

Brash by his taunting, you reach a determined hand between your bodies, finding his length and squeezing it in your grasp. A heavy, hot breath pushes out against your skin in a groan, only adding to the burning heat that spans throughout your entire being. 

You let your fingers slide down his length and his forehead presses against your chest. You hear his heavy inhale. “Okay, okay,” he breathes out. He doesn't move from his spot against your sternum and you tug a little faster, emphasizing your touch on the head of his cock. 

With a low groan, he pushes himself upwards on his forearms, his face now fully visible to you. Rosiness that spreads from cheek to cheek, his eyes are heavy, half lidded as his brows pinch tightly, creasing all the way down to the bridge of his nose. Him, hard in your hand, and the sheer lusting-pleasure across his face, he’s all alluring features that only add fuel to your fire. 

He’s been teasing you mercilessly, and you burn searing temperatures because of it, but you don't forget that he was hard before you even made it to his bed– you use that to your advantage. Rounding your thumb over the head of cock, you feel the seeping pre-cum. Something tells you he was thinking about this long before your wandering eyes made their discovery. Something tells you his teasing isn’t just to draw you out, it's for him too.

“Fuck—” he breathes out in a heavy exhale. “Feels good,” he rasps, sucking in air. “Do you— shit, do you want me to go down on you?” His eyes squeeze shut as you bring your fist over the head and back down. 

“No– just want you inside,” you whisper. His cock twitches in your hand and a choked breath gets caught in his throat. 

Pride long forgotten along with plenty of other silly concepts, desperation takes reign. Desperation becomes an all consuming driving force. 

“Think I should.” he hums, “I’m gonna cum way too quick.” His voice goes gravely with your languid strokes. He puts a hand on your wrist, stilling your movements while he takes a deep, steadying breath. He flutters his eyes open, blinking away his daze born from your touch. 

“Please Eddie. Just want you inside.”

He blinks heavily again, nostrils flaring. His hand around your wrist tightens with his attempt of conservation, but his twitching cock gives away his lustful desire. 

“Fuck— but if I cum—” 

“Eddie,” you whine, huffing out of impatience. With an impish shake of his head, he sits back on his heels, releasing your wrist as his cock slips from your grip. He looks at you, feverish grin coming back as he regains his composure now that your hand isn't on him. 

He hooks his fingers in your underwear, meeting your eyes for permission. With a heavy nod, he pulls them down, groaning deeply as your wetness makes them stick to you. A low grumble of something unintelligible sounds from the cavern of his chest but you're too far gone to focus as you feel the cool air of the room meet your soaked core. 

You barely notice the toss of your underwear to his bedside table as you become far more entranced by his cock being so close to where you need him the most. So close, yet the touch you get is a palm to your lower belly, right above where the heat of your desire lays buried down deep inside. He skates his hand lower, leading his touch downwards. His thumb breaches you folds first. He’s quick to find your clit, quicker to steal your breath, making you jolt from the sensitivity of your button and the abrupt contact. Quickest of all, you relax into his contact with a sigh nearing relief. 

“Look at you,” Eddie whispers under his breath. 

He passes his thumb through your folds again, abandoning your clit to spread your wetness around. The ache of needing more becomes unbearable. 

“Want you, Eddie,” you whisper back, hips bucking up as he starts making small circles on your clit. 

Small circles, eyes narrowed and focused on your cunt, speeding up, your chest heaves but you clench around nothing. His thighs are so close to yours, cock hard, and even closer than before. 

You heave out a petulant whine. “Eddie, stop making me beg,” you say, shifting down the bed, trying to get closer to him. His free hand grips your hip, keeping you still.

“M’not,” he mumbly replies, holding onto you tightly, “but you do sound pretty doing it,” he says, chasing his words with a soft laugh. He slows the speed of his thumb to nothing, hand retreating to grip around the base of his cock. He paints his length with your slick in a single tug upwards, stopping just before he reaches the head. Cruel. Cruel. Cruel. 

“Hurry,” you whine, knees shaking with pent up emotion. He laughs again. 

“I gotta look for a condom— if I have one somewhere...” he trails off, eyes moving around the room. 

Frustrated and beyond impatient, you feel like you could explode. “No– just hurry,” you plead, grinding your hips down into the mattress. 

Every sense of logic disappears, every conscious thought blurred, every concept of being just friends is crossed out in a big, bolded, jagged red ‘X’. If this is what it takes to stop the anticipation, to stop the bone deep burning from lighting you aflame and eating you alive, you’ll do it, as long as he just hurries. 

“No condom?”

“No, don’t care.” 

Blurred, blurred, blurred with empty-headed desire.

You huff, pushing your cheek into the pillow, arching your back for any friction. A pathetic grind down into the mattress has Eddie's hands on your hips, positioning you in front of him.

Witless, totally witless as moves in towards you, dragging his cock back and forth over your clit. Witless, besides the huffy restlessness caused by his teasing— because he’s still teasing. He passes the head of his cock down from your clit to your opening and back up, spreading the slick of your wetness up and down, up and down. His cruel teasing gets the best of you as you whimper, a broken, cut off noise in the back of your throat. 

“Please,” you whine. He answers with a heavy breath, maybe it’s a laugh, but you’re too far gone to give it much thought. Reduced to tunnel vision— wanting one thing and one thing only. Drunk with desire. You don’t remember this from last time.

Finally, he lines himself up, pushing in just enough for the head of his cock to sink in. You moan with a sigh of insurmountable relief, reveling in the stretch.  

“Fuck— missed your pussy so much,” he groans, pulling the head all the way out and pushing back in again. You whimper, just wanting to feel all of him.

“More,” you whine, grabbing at him where you can. You tether yourself to his forearm pressed into the mattress beside you, pulling him as close as he lets you.

He pushes in just past the tip, only giving you the slightest bit more, pulling out once again. It feels personal the way he teases you, and you are not opposed to retaliation. In a swift motion, you raise your leg, hooking it around Eddie’s waist, pulling him flush to you. 

“Hey,” he protests, laughing airily. “I am giving you more, Jesus.” Despite his protest, he lets you pull him into you and you feel the kiss of relief chased by Eddie's lips on yours. His hips meet yours and you feel immense relief as he fully bottoms out inside of you. Eddie pulls back just enough to look at you, but you keep your leg locked around him, sighing contently with the stretch of him finally filling you up. 

“Look at you, what a happy girl now that you have my cock inside of you,” he taunts. He presents himself as unaffected, but his breathing falters between his words, giving away just how worked up he is too. Good. You loosen your grip around his waist, using your hands on his hips to guide him, but he stays planted in place.

“Eddie,” you huff, and he responds with a breathy laugh before bringing his thumb back to your clit.

“Be patient or it’s gonna be over in less than a minute,” he says in a strangled voice. His cool demeanor that he was evidently trying to hold up shatters as he sucks in a wavered breath, trying to steady himself. 

You can’t help but smile to yourself. All this build up, all this teasing, and as soon as he’s inside…“Two pump chump,” you tease.

“I’m trying not to be.” His touch presses firmer onto your clit, making small circles again, and you want more but you let that be enough for now. Clearly, you're the kind one in this friendship. He takes long breaths and you relax into his touch, closing your eyes to focus on it. 

For a moment, you get a taste of friction as he pulls out just enough to get a better view of your pussy, switching to rubbing your clit with 3 fingers instead, making you gasp. 

“Just like that, you like that?” he says, voice going low, sparkling at the heat in your belly. You can tell he’s getting comfortable now, calming himself down with familiar banter. 

“Good,” you moan.

“Just wanna feel my cock so bad, huh? You desperate for it?” he says, eyes flickering from your cunt to your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. The stretch, the slow building pleasure, his low gravelly voice– he’s being cocky now but you don’t care, he's giving you what you need. 

“Just want to feel it,” you hum. 

“So polite too, saying please for me to fill you up.”

“Please,” you echo mindlessly, once again reduced to an empty head with only the desire of wanting to feel the movement of his cock inside you. 

“Such a good girl when she’s begging for my cock,” he whispers under his breath, and all you can do is hum an agreement when he pushes the short distance back into you, his balls pressing against your ass before pulling out again, starting his thrusts. 

The sounds that escape your mouth are unwilling but come naturally. You don’t think twice about them, letting just about anything come from you at this point. You’re all moans, and whimpers and mindless babbling. How Eddie, your best friend got you here, is a question for later. 

He switches to a rolling motion, moving both arms beside you as he leans forward to press kisses back to your neck. His lips, adding to the fire, you need them on yours. You need to feed the heat. 

“Kiss,” you whisper, breath turning to pants as his hips drag along your clit with each roll. You feel the familiar burn in your belly and it’s as if the only answer to your prayers right now is his lips on yours. 

He lifts his head from your neck. When he doesn’t meet your waiting lips, you open your eyes to see him just watching you, eyes gliding over your features. Impatiently, you raise your head up, chasing his lips, and only then does he move into you, kissing you back down to the pillow.

His hips pick up speed, rolling turning back into thrusting, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. 

“Feels so good, Eddie,” you gasp against his lips when a particular thrust hits perfectly against your g-spot. He continues that same motion, and you let your pleasure guide you, grinding your hips up into him, tightening the grip of your leg around his waist as you feel yourself getting close already. 

“Fuck— you like that?” he says, each word punctuated with a slew of heavy thrusts. 

“Mhmm, please don’t stop,” you cry, feeling your belly getting tight. Hands with a mind of their own, you reach up wrapping both arms around Eddie's shoulders, keeping him impossibly close to you.

Each thrust chases your mind further and further away, consciousness melting into nothing more than mindless moans as you propel towards your high. He brings you to the edge, weaving a hand between the two of you again, pushing you right over with quick passes on your clit. Your mouth falls open as your body spasms, your orgasm taking over. 

“S-shit,” he curses in a hard, strangled breath, face contorting in pleasure as the tightness of your contracting cunt squeezes him. So wet, so warm, so perfect around his throbbing cock, he moans low and long, near whimpers resonating from the back of his throat. 

Falling deeper into the mattress, your whole body blissfully pulses with each uneven thrust into you— magnanimous waves of euphoric aftershock that absorb you whole.

“G-gonna cum,” he says through a held breath only to heave after the words are finished. His brows pinch together with finality, deep creases forming as he lets go. Still lost in bliss, all you can do is echo him. 

“Cum,” you harp mindlessly. His words keep you rooted to reality, but not enough to exist beyond being the blur of your pleasure. 

His rhythm stutters, delivering sloppy presses of his hips to yours. Sloppy thrusts to jerking movements, he presses deep inside of you, cock lively with a pulse, balls tensing against your ass, as he reaches his release. 

“Fuck. F-fuck,” he grunts, voice turning into a whimpered moan as he works himself through his orgasm with more unsteady, jolts of his body. The subtle warmth of his cum and the obscene squelch of his continued thrusts just barely grabs your attention as your mind begins to clear. 

With a final huff, he falls down into you, your leg sliding down from around him, meeting the mattress. Clarity hits you all at once. Panic invades and your eyes that had fluttered shut burst open wide with your sudden realization.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out. Eddie shifts slightly, relieving you of his weight, he clearly doesn’t understand the magnitude of the situation. “Oh. My. God,” you repeat, louder and with more urgency. Eddie goes ridgid over top of you before his arms are flexing, pushing himself up. 

“What? What’s wrong?” he asks, perfectly replicating your panicked urgency. With his disheveled bangs pushed back, you can see each and every worry line set deep with concern. 

Gaze to gaze, your mind races with so much clarity— so much clarity that never existed until right now. With a heavy blink, you attempt to swallow down your panic. 

“Did you just cum inside of me?” You know the answer but you don’t know how else to say it. 

Eddie’s face relaxes, a flash of relief coating his features when he realizes you’re not hurt or in pain. He lets out a heavy breath, a breath you’re jealous of because your lungs feel like they’re hardly working. 

“Eddie,” you prompt when he takes too long. He looks at you with a hint of a smile. 

“I did…” he starts, with a boyish tone, a tone he would use when he’s in trouble and trying to get his way out of it. “Was I not supposed to? Last time—”

“Last time I was on birth control,” you interject, absolute panic taking the forefront now. 

You watch as the iron-weighted realization settles into Eddie. His eyes go wide and his face pales. He swallows thickly before opening his mouth.

“And this time you’re not?” he asks, barely above a whisper, his own panic ready to bleed out.

“No!” you shrill, eyes going wider in horror. Eddie’s panic washes over his face but he's quick to blink it back. His expression changes into something you’re not sure of.

“Well, why aren’t you?” 

It’s a mixture of reprehensible and disbelief. Feels too close to blaming you— and if the tension wasn’t so high you would have told him that your insurance didn’t cover the brand you were taking anymore, and that you were waiting for a doctor's appointment to get a new one. The tension is high though, and the way he’s looking at you puts you in defense immediately. 

“Don’t make this seem like it’s my fault! You should have got a condom and maybe if you weren’t teasing me I would have—” you start but Eddie cuts you off.

“You said it was okay, and last time—” he begins but you cut him off just the same as he did to you. 

“Jesus Christ— last time we were drunk, Eddie!” you say far too loudly, cringing at yourself. Eddie’s mouth opens then shuts. You take a breath, attempting to calm yourself. 

In tandem, you both take a figurative step back from the argument. A shared realization this time— in respective ways, you both did this. There isn’t a singular finger to point and there’s no good in trying to put all the blame on one of you.

Voice filled with plainness and objectivity, you state the facts. “You’re right, I told you it was fine. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight, and I forgot.”

Eddie nods, eyes leaving yours as he mulls his mouth back and forth, searching for his answer. 

“I’m— I’m sorry too… for that,” he says. You think he’s done speaking but with a quick shake of his head he continues. “For assuming I could cum inside of you because of last time and… for trying to blame you,” he clarifies. 

“It was an accident. On both of our parts,” you state, level headed and straightforward. “It’ll be fine,” you state but the rise in your voice makes it sound like a question. 

“It‘ll be fine,” he echoes quietly, no more sure than you are. He meets your eyes, his mood shifting to something a little more hopeful. “It’s not like you’re gonna get pregnant from one accident, right?”

“No…?” you answer with incertitude. Pausing, you try to rationalize the situation. “I mean, people have accidents all the time,” you offer. He nods agreeingly.

“Probably everyday,” he affirms. His gaze turns more hopeful, as does yours. 

“Right, and not everyone gets pregnant.”

“Exactly— so… we’ll be fine.”

“We’ll be fine.”

Taking a deep breath, your lungs still feel like they only fill half way, partially because of your worry, partially because Eddie’s still laying on top of you. Tapping his chest, he gets the hint, muttering a quiet apology as he pulls out and rolls to your side.

A beat passes and it’s quiet. Both of you lay side by side, entirely lost in your heads. It would be productive to talk it out instead of the band-aid conversation you just had, but neither of you speak. Instead, you lay in silence for what feels like forever. 

Staring at the ceiling, contemplating every single thought and action that brought you here. Analyzing each and every coincidence after coincidence that somehow all feel a lot less coincidental now. The room is eerily quiet, especially with Eddie by your side who normally speaks a mile a minute, and it’s unsettling. Both of you, lost in thought, individually conceptualizing your potential futures. You take a few more deep breaths, exhaling them through your nose and forcing your panic out. It doesn’t work very well though.

Eventually, breaking the thick pensiveness of the room, Eddie offers to get you a towel but you decline, opting to use the bathroom and get ready for bed. He does the same, and grabs clothes for the both of you to change into.

It’s not necessarily awkward between you two, you’re both just clearly lost in your heads, the unfortunate spout of miscommunication weighing heavily in the room. 

When you both get into bed, Eddie turns off his lamp, and only the shuffling of blankets can be heard as he settles back down. 

“Do—” he breaks the silence, startling you and making you jolt.

“Hm?” you hum, turning your head to see him. He laughs softly, the corners of his lips turned up. 

“Do you want to cuddle?”

“Oh,” you pause, you hadn’t even thought about cuddling, so lost in your head you had accidentally put a foot of space between the two of you. “Yeah, sure.”

His hand moves to your hip, pulling you backwards as he shuffles towards you, coaxing you to your side. Little spoon, he tucks you into his chest, supporting your head with his bicep snug in the curve of your neck, his other arm hugging around your middle. 

You barely have a chance to think about if this is weird… cuddling with your friend like this, because this certainly didn't happen last time when you both had just passed out wherever you fell after the fact. Any potential contemplation if this is weird is pulled out from under you when Eddie’s quick to disturb the silence yet again.

“So…” he starts. You hum, letting him know you’re listening. He pauses for an extra moment before continuing. “What do you want to name the baby?” 

A horrifying joke that catches you so off guard that you can’t help but break. A laugh rips from your lungs and it's in such poor taste but you can’t help it. 

“Shut up,” you scold, jetting your elbow backwards and catching the edge of his stomach. Tucking your face against his arm, you bite back your smile and any further encouraging giggles while he proudly laughs at his own joke. 

Because that’s all it is, right? A joke? An ill-conceived joke?

thank you for reading! bisous love u bye

♡ ♡ ♡

[vlvttt]

boygenius — send me a character and a concept and i’ll write some headcanons!

ok so like … this is kind of vague but thoughts on jealous!eddie? he’s def the gets-jealous-easily type I feel. (also pls ignore this or any of my other asks if u want to. I know u probably have lots to get through!! love u <3)

I feel like a lot of it comes from his own insecurity.

because he's definitely capable of it.

eddie munson? it's canon that he's not liked. he's total charmer idc but he's not lucky with the men and women </3

until you!!!!! god he's so in love with you its not even funny. you're caring and sweet and you put up with his antics. you tell him all the time he isn't anything to put up with but still, he's always doubting himself.

at first, he doesn't even notice it. he's not overprotective with it, or overbearing, but there's always that nagging on the back of his head.

when you go out, he'd be stupid not to notice if anyone else is looking at you. men that might try to talk you up. you're mostly oblivious about it. dancing away or chatting his ear off, ignoring the other guy that's at your side.

"you want another drink, teds?"

eddie stops staring at the guy eyeing you down. "yeah, baby. wanna dance as well?"

at the end of the night when he realises you don't care about other guys who he thinks are better than him, after you spend the whole night dancing with him and hanging off his side, giggling about how much you like him, he forgets about it all.

then, there's steve. steve who you've known forever, who he's sure you belong with. he's sure you're perfect for each other.

steve makes you laugh, he's sure harder than he ever has. he knows things about you that eddie doesn't. things he thinks he should, not him.

one day, when he's feeling down, he asks you about it. "hey, you and steve....you guys ever...y'know, been together?"

you almost spit out the milkshake he's just bought you. "me...me and steve? what? no!"

"oh, you guys just seem so close. he's so nice to you."

"we've been through a lot, eds. we're best friends. that's all."

"okay."

"promise."

"sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"no, it's okay. only you, eddie."

eddie feels a lot, a lot better after that conversation. still, eddie is eddie and he can't help the jealousy, insecurity that claws at his throat.

he makes sure it doesn't affect your relationship, you deserve better than that, but he can't help it.

he's definitely always got a hand on you. your waist. wrist. elbow. thigh, if he's lucky.

you're none the wiser, you think he's just super touchy. because he is, he loves to feel you all the time. it's just much worse when you're around other people.

AND!!!!!! if someone actually does try to make a move on you and it's quite noticeable, he makes sure everyone definitely knows you're his.

will kiss you, probably too roughly, a lot more tongue than necessary, hands in places that you're definitely too shy for. hips, ass, the underside of your boob oh em gee.

you pull away dizzy, breathless. a little confused at his sudden show of over-affection. "everything okay?"

"yeah, yeahyeahyeah. you just looked really pretty. had to kiss ya."

[vlvttt]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Based on this short blurb,

Warnings: fluffy smut, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, praise kink.

Not proofread

18+ minors dni.

"You think you can give me one more baby?" Eddie groaned against your neck. His hands pinning yours down beside your head. Your legs hooked over his broad shoulders. Your thighs smashed to your chest. The angle allowing his cock to sink deeper in you.

" I dunno if I can." You whined, feeling him pushing his length deeper inside you. Your walls pulsating around his cock.

"You can, baby. I know you can." Eddie cooed, pulling his length almost all the way out before slamming back in. Your body jolting from the force. "You've been so good for me."

You're so needy. So so sleepy, but you want to give him another. You have to. He's already made you cum four times tonight. What would one more hurt? His consistent praises muttered in your ear were enough to keep you giving more. There was something about hearing how much of a good job you were doing that caused your tummy to do flips. You turned into a puddle under him.

Eddies hands, mouth, and tongue were all over you the moment he walked through that front door. His skin covered in grease from the dirty cars he'd been fixing. His coveralls half unzipped, exposing his sweat soaked tank top. He needed a shower but couldn't wait any longer to have you.

Eddie didn't care if he was still a little dirty from work, and neither did you. You were just as desperate for him. He had been yearning for you all day. Calling you on his lunch break to tell you all the dirty things he had planned when he got home. You squirmed, standing there in the kitchen with the phone to your ear. Your thighs pressing tight together as wetness pooled at your center.

It took everything in him to not sneak in a closet and rub his cock as he listened to your fingers plunge in your pussy. The small cries of frustration escaping your lips when they weren't making you feel as good as he did. He could picture it so vividly. He was getting unbearably hard just thinking about it.

"M'trying." You whined again, finding it difficult to speak. Eddies thrusts, slowing down just a little as he checked to see if you were okay. Every roll of his hips helping him hit that sweet on your walls, driving you crazy. The only thing on your mind was Eddie. Nothing else. Just him.

Each stroke of his cock made your head feel all fuzzy. He stretched you open perfectly. You could feel your slick running down the plush curve of your ass.

"You're taking me so fucking well." Eddie grunted as his cock glides in your opening with ease. "So wet---so tight."

He breathed heavily in your face. "Always ready for me."

You looked into his eyes almost pleadingly. His hands still pinning yours down to the bed. You want to touch him. You want to hug him close to your body as you cum for the fifth time in a row. "Wanna hold you close."

Eddie looks down, smiling softly. "Yeah? Don't care if I squish ya a little?"

You pout up at him, your eyes begging for him to cave. "No."

"M'already a little squished." You tried to remind him of the position he currently has you in. Legs up and thighs pressed to your chest. Your anckles by your ears. You craved to have his body smashed against yours. His chest pressed hard to yours. It made you feel safe.

Eddie continues smiling down at you while letting go of your hands. He unhooked your legs from his shoulders, letting them fall to the bed. You felt his fingers that were once intertwined with yours now gone. His hands now placed firmly on the mattress beside your head. Eddie tried to keep himself hovered but knew the moment you wrapped those arms around his neck, he'd collapse.

Which is exactly what happened. You wrapped your arms so tightly around him, yanking him down. Pulling all of his weight on top of you. Smashing his chest to yours. You hug him onto him tight like your life depended on it. His face now buried in the crook of your neck muffling his own cries of pleasure.

His musky scent filling your nose brings a calmness to you. You knew this last orgasm was going to be more intense than the others. You needed to hold on to him if you were going to give one more. That's all he needed. That's all he wanted from you. It's all he asked. Just one more.

You closed your eyes for just a moment, preparing yourself. Your breathy sighs and whines only spurring him on. Encouraging him to fuck you harder. Wanting to ensure you wouldn't be able to walk the next day. Needing to push his cock as deep as he could get it. His balls slapping against your ass with every strong thrust he gave you.

Eddies words are kind and gentle. They always are. You don't think he's ever said a mean thing to you. Not once. Even when he's angry. He could be mean and nasty to other people who rightfully deserved it. But not you. Never you.

"you're so pretty when youre like this all fucked out and needy." He grunted leaning up slightly to get a good look at you.

Your eyes glossed over. Your body quivering under his. Your legs twitching as they lay almost limp across his back. The grease from his hands smeared all over your body. You didn't mind it. In fact, it boosted your confidence when he couldn't wait any moment longer to be inside you.

"You ready to give me another?" He whispered. His cock plunging in and out of your pussy.

Eddie hasn't slowed down since burying himself deep inside you. The only time he's even slowed just a tad bit was to make sure you were okay. The moment you reassured him, you were fine his pace picked up. Even faster than before. His hips slamming into yours. Skin slapping against skin. The wet sounds you were making were almost pornographic.

"Y-yes!, so so bad!" You halfway shouted, feeling that coil in your belly building up again. You sneak a hand between your joined bodies to carefully rub circles on your sore clit. Your back arches as you moan Eddie's name. Your orgasm hits you fast and strong. Causing you to see little white dots in front of your eyes.

"Atta girl baby thats it cum all over me." Eddie praised watching you cum undone for him once more. He let out an animalistic growl when he felt your walls clenching him. You claw at his back, digging your nails in his skin. You bring your legs back around his waist, squeezing him tight as you cum.

"Oh, that was a big one, wasn't it?" He asked, already knowing the answer just by the state you're left in.

Tears running down your face with how overwhelmed you were. You can't answer him even though you want to. He could feel your heart beating through your chest. Eddies thrusts were only getting harder and rougher. While whispering in your ear, reminding you how you're such a "good girl for him." Telling you how thankful he is to call you his.

"Mmmfph fuck baby", He moans giving you a few more powerful pumps and he’s filling you up with his cum. Your legs fall away from his back. You're sore and aching all over. Your body too weak and exhausted to move.

"God, i love you." Eddie breathed against your neck.

"Love you too." You croaked. You could barely speak. Your voice is raspy, and your mouth is dry.

His mind is just as cloudy as yours. His cheeks flushed. You felt him shift and remove his cock from you. You whimper at the abandonment, not wanting him to leave. You felt empty. Why can't he just stay a little longer? You thought. His cum spills down your ass and on the bed. Your sheets are completely soaked in your juices, leaving a very noticeable dark wet spot beneath you.

Eddie moved to lay back on his own pillow, his breathing slowly evening out. Your eyes grow heavy with each passing second. You can't feel your legs, and your arms are too weak to help you sit up. He looks over, chuckling at you. He really did a number on you tonight.

"Hey sweetie, we need to get cleaned up."

You groan trying to turn over, but your body feels heavy. Every limb felt they were being held down.

"Don't be like that. You should see the mess you've made." He joked, watching your brows furrow as he laughs harder.

"Your mess, too." You argued back.

After about fifteen minutes of just laying in bed, he finally convinced you to get up. He compromised and let you get the bath ready for the both of you. Your body ached. Eddie seemed fine now that he got a little rest. You know he's not done with you yet. He's just letting you gain your strength back before he continues whatever else he has planned. He's been missing you so much lately. Even though he hes had you almost every single night. Eddie couldn't get enough of you. He never could.

[vlvttt]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 27

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! angst, jealousy, misunderstandings, mentions of unrequited love. smut, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, choking (kinda). Not giving away who the smut is about but uh, don't come at me.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Your anger and frustration take a hold of you, and for the first time, you take control and change things into the better... you hope.

Word count: 14k+

A/N: @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me so much, we've been talking about this chapter for two months now (or longer?) and I'm so fucking excited that we're finally here, aaaah!

series masterlist

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A look of anger is nestled deep into your soft features, your brows are knitted together, lips curled downwards. There’s a tired look in your eyes, it’s barely visible beneath the lingering rage. You are clenching your jaw, huffing in frustration ever so often. Despite the mess that must be going on inside your head, you still manage to look beautiful. That is something Heather has always admired about you. No matter what bullshit life throws at you, you always manage to look better than anyone else in the room. No amount of tears, betrayal or pain will stop you from making yourself look good. In fact, Heather is convinced that you look better and better after every fall that you take. 

How? She doesn’t know. 

She eyes you, admiring the way the short maroon skirt looks on you, sun kissed legs glowing beneath the dim lights, the tight black top adorned with dainty lace straps, boots that you wouldn’t have worn a year ago – you look good. Really good. She understands why Eddie struggles to keep his eyes off of you. Or why Steve still pines after you. You’re not just an amazing girl, you’re also a really fucking hot one. 

Another huff falls from your lips, your eyes flash with irritation as you slam one of the records on the shelf. 

Heather isn’t sure if she had ever seen you this angry. 

You are rarely ever angry. 

You weren’t even this angry when Steve stood you up on dates you were excited for.

“What is wrong with cheer captain over there?” Argyle whispers in his girlfriend's ear as he pretends to check out the tape in his hand. 

Heather snorts, looking over her shoulder at him, “she’s not a cheer captain anymore, you know?” 

He shrugs, “once a captain, always a captain, baby.” 

Heather shakes her head. 

“No, seriously. What happened to her?” He asks as he puts the tape back into place, placing his hand on her lower back as he glances at you. “I don’t think anger was an emotion that existed in her world,” he mumbles quietly, watching the way flick your hair back angrily as you make your way back to the counter. 

“I’m not sure,” Heather mumbles, wide eyed and confused, not knowing whether to confront you or not. “I guess something happened with Steve.. again.” Just a moment after those words leave her lips, the bell above the door rings and in walks Eddie with the usual smile that appears on his face whenever he sees you. 

Heather glances at him briefly, before her eyes move back to you, just in time to catch you rolling your eyes at the man you adore so much. She can’t even hide the look of surprise that crosses her face when you look down with a slight glare.

Argyle, who wasn’t blind to it either, laughs quietly, “uh oh, trouble in paradise.” 

Eddie, who is yet to notice the angry look on your face, walks up to the counter with a takeaway cup that he places in front of you, tearing your attention away from the magazine that lies in front of you. Without raising your head, you look up at him through your lashes, eying the cheerful look on his face, the smile, the stupid brown eyes that you love so much. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, looking around the record store, he waves at Heather and Argyle before he looks back at you. “I got you some coffee, figured you’d need some after last night.”

He drums his fingers against the counter as he stares at you, taking in the sight of you in your pretty little outfit, your glossy, kissable lips, your soft wavy hair that you always spent the most time on. He looks into your beautiful eyes that you glare at him with. He waits for you to crack a smile but, just like last night, you only frown, your lips twitch as though you try to force a smile but fail to do so. You don’t even acknowledge the cup he had placed in front of the magazine that you were glaring at before he walked in. 

Eddie’s heart sinks a little. He hoped to see a smile on your face today. You had been acting weird from the moment you had excused yourself to the bathroom last night. When you had gotten back with another drink in your hand, you chose to sit next to Steve instead of him. Eddie knew that something wasn’t right the moment he saw how you were forcing laughter and pretended to be interested in whatever Robin was telling you. You barely talked to him or to Steve for that matter, but you had at least looked at him. All Eddie got were halfhearted smiles, short replies and a cold shoulder from you. Which hurt – a lot. 

He didn’t allow himself to overthink, to feel hurt over something that probably meant nothing. But now that he stands in front of you, looking into those eyes that seem even more rage filled than the night before he knows that he had every reason to overthink. 

“Thanks,” you mumble. 

Eddie blinks, staring at you with sad eyes. 

“Uh, you’re welcome,” he mutters under his breath, he straightens up, staring down at you with confused eyes. “Did you sleep well? You had a lot of whiskey last night.” 

You didn’t stay over last night. And he didn’t stay over at your place either. In fact, it’s been a while since you had slept in each other’s beds, since you both started working. He misses it. He misses you, he misses waking up beside you, feeling your body on his, smelling your perfume on his sheets. He wants to go back to the night you had stolen the bat plushie for him, when you missed him, when you wanted him to hold you, he misses it, especially now. 

“I slept just fine.” 

He clenches his jaw when you give him another glare. 

What is your problem? 

Are you angry? Or are you angry at him? 

“What do you want?” You ask, voice filled with bitterness. 

Ah. So, you are angry at him. Eddie had never gotten to know what it’s like to feel your anger before. What it’s like to feel your cold shoulder. Not once, had you been angry at him. Not once, had you glared at him, snapped at him, treated him unkindly. Not a single time, had you done wrong by him. You are always sweet, always kind, always good. Now he gets to feel it. And god, it doesn’t feel good. 

“Uh, well. I’m on lunch break and thought I’d drop by,” he mumbles, hating the way his voice wavers, the way he feels so awkward, knowing that Heather and Argyle are listening in on your conversation. “So, the guys canceled band practice tonight. Do you wanna hang out after work? I get off earlier, I can pick you up after your shift, we can go to the movies or have a few drinks at the hideout.”

Suddenly, you snap your head up, looking him directly into his eyes. Eddie is almost a little taken aback by the storm raging in your eyes. 

“Why? Did you run out of girls to eat out?” 

Eddie is stunned. Utterly stunned and dumbfounded. His mouth opens and closes again, too confused, too shocked to say anything. 

What? 

Heather and Argyle who feel just as stunned, look at each other with wide eyes. 

‘Holy shit, dude. That is like a soap opera.’ Argyle mouths with a funny look on his face as he points to you and Eddie. 

Heather glares at him, slapping his shoulder lightly. 

With an eye roll, you look away from Eddie and his confused frown. You turn around and walk away, not bearing to stand being in his presence any longer, you brush past your friends and walk into the backroom. Ignoring the guilt that is burning in your chest after seeing the look in Eddie’s eyes. 

His eyes follow you until you disappear into the hallway. He wants to follow you, he wants to move, he wants to confront you, but he stands frozen in place, not knowing what to say or do. 

What the hell just happened? 

Did you really say that?

“What did you do, Munson?” 

Eddie snaps out of his thoughts, turning his head to look at Heather, who is already glaring at him with arms crossed over her chest. The girl had always intimidated him a little, but especially now. 

He looks over at Argyle who looks like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or try to calm his angry girlfriend down as he looks between Heather and him. 

Eddie lifts his shoulders, shrugging with a confused and crestfallen look on his face. He is clueless and lost, not quite understanding what the hell just happened. Nothing you say or do makes sense to him lately. You say you wish you met him first, only to act like nothing happened the next day, like you don’t remember your words from the night you had gotten so drunk. He tried not to think too much into it, even after Dmitri’s encouraging words. You could never feel the same, could you? No. Then he thinks about the previous night, about how upset you seemed after his little sex talk with Steve. Surely you are not upset about the things he did but about the things that Steve did or well, didn’t do with you. Not because of what he did months ago, right? You wouldn’t care. You wouldn’t care about what he did with other girls or maybe you do, just not for the reasons he’d hope. You were – are probably just upset about what he did with strangers, what your own boyfriend never did with you but did with a girl he left you for. 

You wouldn’t be jealous, not over him, right? 

Not that he would ever want you to, he would never want you to feel jealous over him. For him, there is only one girl that he wants and that is you. The girls he had fooled around with, were merely a distraction and long before he had admitted to his feelings. The moment he had looked at you a little longer, felt his heart race a little faster, caught himself thinking about you more than he should have, he tried to distract himself, he tried to be with other girls, ones who were willing to touch ‘the freak’. Though, he could never go all the way, the moment he even felt someone else’s touch on him, pictures of you flashed right before his eyes, as much as he tried to force them away, he couldn’t. He knew he was done for when the thought of fucking some random girl left a bitter taste in his mouth and the thought of you stopped him from even going as far. He stopped it right then and there, despite knowing that he would never get a chance with you. It just felt wrong and not as good as it should have. 

“Who’s pussy did you eat, dude?” Argyle shakes his head at him with both an amused and disapproving look on his face. 

Heather glares at her boyfriend before she redirects her glare at Eddie, feeling the anger rise inside of her. She is not ready to see you pine after another guy who can’t keep it in his pants. Though when she sees the sad and confused look in Eddie’s eyes, her shoulders slump a little. She sighs, dropping her arms by her sides. 

“No one’s – what the fuck,” Eddie mumbles, ready to turn on his heels and run out of here. “That was months ago. I don’t know why she’s so pissed at me.” 

Heather knows. Despite not knowing what happened, she knows why you are so pissed. 

She makes her way over to him, squinting her eyes as she tilts her head. 

“What happened months ago?” 

He sighs, cheeks heating up. He doesn’t want to talk about something so meaningless, let alone with a friend who would probably kill for you. 

“And what happened in general?” She asks, now talking in hushed whispers. “We talked on the phone yesterday, she seemed fine and was excited to see you, so what the hell happened?” 

His heart soars to hear that you were excited to see him. 

He runs his fingers through his messy curls, looking around the record store before he looks back at Heather. 

“We hung out with Robin and Steve. We went back to his place, got high and had a couple of drinks.”

“And?” 

“And then we, fuck,” he sighs. “It doesn’t matter, okay? S-She’s just pissed at me because of what Steve did… or didn’t do.” 

Heather’s brows knit together, a confused look taking over her face. She hates the way she never gets anything out of him or you. You are both so confusing sometimes. 

“I just – I’m gonna go,” he mumbles in defeat but also in anger and frustration, “just tell her to give me a call when she feels okay again.” 

Before she can say or ask anything else, he turns around but not before taking another glance into the hallway, huffing when it stays empty. He opens the door and leaves. 

Heather leans against the counter, rolling her eyes. 

When you walk back out, you look around the store, checking to see if he is still here. You ignore the disappointment and guilt gnawing at your stomach. 

“So…. what happened?” Heather asks you when you start reading your magazine again, as though nothing happened. 

“Nothing.”

“Oh come on,” she groans, throwing her hands up. “Just tell me what happened, you clearly need to let it out!” 

With a sigh, you lean closer to her, not wanting her boyfriend to listen in on this conversation. 

“I didn’t fucking know that men eat pussies.” 

Heather doesn’t want to, she really really doesn’t want to laugh. But, the mix of anger and embarrassment in your eyes, the flustered look on your face along with your choice of words makes it hard for her not to giggle, she manages to suppress it though. 

“He found out that Steve never did anything like that with me and then he bragged about his skills to both Robin and Steve. I thought he was done with it, he told me he wasn’t hooking up with anyone anymore but then I found out that he fooled around two or three months ago, Heather! He fucking fooled around with other girls!” You yell in a whisper, getting angrier and angrier. “He was fucking and doing god knows what w-with – god, I don’t even want to know. But then he got mad at me for kissing Steve! He treated me like shit all day when he found out about the kiss, yet he was doing so much worse!” 

Heather’s eyes widen. Not because of what you told him but because of the look on your face. The anger in your voice. The very clear jealousy and storm raging in your eyes. 

She narrows her eyes when she feels Argyle watching. He begins to whistle, pretending to not watch you throwing a fit. 

“It made me so mad, so fucking mad. I-It’s not even that he fooled around with girls, he was– is single and free to do whatever he wants. It’s just – fuck,” you grab your hair, shaking your head as you close your eyes, trying to take deep breaths. “On top of that, I find out that Steve did everything with Nancy fucking Wheeler.” 

You are frustrated. That much is clear. Angry, jealous and irritated. But there is a different kind of frustration, right now. 

“Babe,” Heather whispers, reaching over the counter, she pulls your hands out of your hair, pulling them down and placing them back on the counter, “breathe with me.” 

You open your eyes, looking into her calm ones. 

“Just take a deep breath,” she repeats. 

“I got a joint for you if you want, y/n,” Argyle says from the other side of the room. 

“Argyle!” Heather snaps, glaring at him again – something that only makes him chuckle in response, shrugging. “She needs to chillax a little.” 

You crack a smile at his words.

“Look! There she is, the first smile of the day, good job, Heather!” He grins at his girlfriend with a thumbs up. 

“You made her smile,” she chuckles, rolling her eyes playfully. She looks back at you. 

“Look, Steve sucks, we all know that.” 

“Sucked.” 

She huffs at your correction. 

“He will always suck to me – but anyways, what I’m trying to say is,” she pauses, holding your hands tighter. “Eddie is not Steve. I know you’re scared to watch the guy you like fool around with other girls, like you had to with Steve back then but, Eddie isn’t him. Besides, didn’t he say it was months ago?” 

“Yeah,” you mumble. “Two or three months ago.” 

“See, that’s a long time for a guy, trust me,” she mutters with wide eyes. “It didn’t happen recently, it happened months ago. He stopped for a reason, besides I don’t think there’s a reason for you to feel jealous. I know you like Eddie–”

“I don’t like Eddie,” you blush. 

“Sure you’re don’t, y/n,” Argyle chuckles, not even hiding the fact that he is listening in on your conversation. “You’re not fooling anyone, neither is Eddie. You’re both idiots.”

You frown at his words.

“Don’t listen to him” Heather shakes her head. “Listen, I get why you’re upset but, you need to learn how to speak up and talk about whatever is bothering you. You never talked to Steve, you always kept it all to yourself, which I get because he was a douchebag to you the few times you did open up. But, don’t do the same with Eddie. He cares about you, a lot.”

You look down, guiltily. 

“Don’t feel bad,” Heather sighs, squeezing your hands. “I think he deserved that little cold shoulder, he did the same to you,” she shrugs. “But seriously, just talk to him. Being the on the receiving end of the cold shoulder fucking sucks, you know that.”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I-I just don't know what to say Heather. Whatever I will say will make me sound like some jealous lovesick idiot.” 

She raises her brows, “are you lovesick?” 

You shake your head at her, though she can see you blushing. You are afraid of the feelings you had developed for Eddie, the ones you haven’t even fully admitted to yet. 

“Well, start with an apology and explain to him why you were angry. That it was unfair of him to treat you like that after the kiss with Steve when he was doing, well, that..” 

You nod.

“Talk to him, go to the hideout, after work. We both know you want to.” 

“Us three know, you want to,” Argyle corrects her. 

“Yeah, yeah. Us three,” she laughs. 

You snort, shaking your head at them both. 

“I don’t know,” you mumble. “What if he doesn’t want to see me? I was a bitch to him.”

Argyle snorts, “girl, he came here all the way just to spend his lunch break with you and he looked like a poor little kitten who was kicked to the curb by his owner. He does want to see you.” 

“I-I don’t know.” 

“Y/n,” Heather sighs.

“I just, I didn’t bring my car and I don’t want to walk all the way there.”

She knows that you are trying to make up excuses because you are too afraid to face him now after what happened. 

“I’ll give you a ride in the coolest pizza van ever,” Argyle grins, “it’s supposed to storm later, wouldn’t want you to walk home in the rain, anyways,” he shrugs as he finally walks up to the counter, throwing his arm around his girlfriend's shoulder, he grins at you. 

“See, you got a driver and a few hours to calm down!” Heather says with a big smile on her face. “Now let’s go before she says no,” she turns to her boyfriend, letting go of your hands to grab his, she starts to drag him out of the store. 

“Oh,” Argyle chuckles, “see ya later!” 

“Yeah bye,” you sigh, already dreading the moment you will have to face Eddie. 

You busy yourself with the new records that came in today, trying to ignore the abandoned cup of coffee on the counter, but you keep looking at it, feeling worse and worse the more time passes by. 

Eddie didn’t deserve the way you treated him. Even when he was once a dick to you, he still didn’t deserve it. But anger controlled you and maybe a pinch of jealousy. Eddie is single but that won’t stay that way forever. He might not be around for you, forever. Someday, someone will come into his life and steal his heart, someone he will fall for, someone he will leave you for. The thought of it, puts a frown on your face. Imagining him with another girl leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, it makes your insides feel as though they’re twisting and catching on fire. You hate it. You hate the thought of him with someone else. 

But it will happen someday. Anyday. 

A mix of emotions run through you all day and it almost becomes unbearable on the drive to the hideout. Neither Argyle’s attempts at making you laugh with his silly jokes or his music manage to calm you down. Nothing manages to make you feel better in the slightest. By the time you jump out of the van, your hands are shaking and your heart is pounding. 

What if he doesn’t want to see you? 

What if he is angry at you? 

What if you just ruined a friendship that means everything to you?

The rain is pouring, forcing you to find shelter quickly. Normally, you would’ve given yourself at least five minutes to calm down before walking inside but you refuse to walk in looking like a wet dog. 

With shaky hands, you open the door and step inside, ignoring the raindrops rolling down your cheeks. You take a few deep breaths, pulling the jacket tighter around your body. You look towards the little booth you usually sit at, only to find it empty. 

You swallow nervously, furrowing your brows. 

The sound of a girl's laughter pulls your attention towards the bar and for a moment, your heart stops beating, your breath hitches in your throat. Unable to move, you stand frozen in place with hands that shake for different reasons other than nervousness now. 

Eddie is sitting at the bar, talking to some girl. She touches his arm, leaning closer to him. You hear her giggle and you see his smile and that is enough for you to regret even thinking of coming here. Of course, he went out to find someone else the moment you rejected his invitation. 

Your heart starts pounding again, your throat feels tight, too tight. You can’t bear to stare at the sight in front of you any longer. To see him smile at someone like this, to see someone else touching him, to see him so happy with someone other than you. 

The moment you hear his laughter is the moment you know you’re done for. It’s too late to come back from this now. It’s too late to try and keep your heart safe from yet another heartbreak. It’s too late to stop yourself from falling because you already fell. And you lost, again. 

Tears prickle in your eyes, your bottom lip starts trembling. 

The urge to walk over to him feels strong, too strong. But you fight it, not wanting to make a fool out of yourself, you turn around and storm out of the bar, not caring about the pouring rain. You step out into the cold, letting the rain crash down on you. 

You don’t even acknowledge his van as you walk past it. 

You’re blinking away the tears, not wanting them to fall. The feeling of dread, anger and sadness is starting to consume you, again. It feels like Halloween night, all over again. 

The door slams open behind you and footsteps echo through the empty streets. You keep walking, not bothering to look back, not even when you hear his voice calling your name. Only when he catches up to you, blocking your path by standing in front of you do you stop walking. 

You see the irritation in his features, the confusion as he stares you down. 

He is trying to shield himself from the rain but to no avail, his bangs are already sticking to his forehead. 

“I called your name!” 

You huff, trying to step around him, but he only moves in front of you again. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” He finally snaps. “Where are you going!?”

“Home!” You try to walk past him once again, but Eddie is stubborn, not letting you go. You huff in anger, looking up into his eyes with a glare, “Go back to your girl, I don’t want to be the one getting in the way of you and some pussy, Munson!” 

His eyes flash with confusion, darkening in frustration. 

“I– what!?” 

You shake your head at him, scoffing at his faked confusion. 

“Get out of the way.” 

“What!? No!” He shakes his head, wanting nothing more than to take your hand and drag you towards his van but he doesn’t want to startle you in this moment, not after what happened with Ray. 

You clench your jaw, glaring at him. You watch how his breathing gets heavier and heavier, how he glares into your eyes with both anger and frustration. 

Something like this has never happened before. 

You had never gotten into a fight before. Not once. 

“Get in the van, sweetheart.” 

The nickname that usually rolls off his tongue so sweetly, sounding so bitterly now. 

You shake your head. 

He huffs, looking away for a moment, he suddenly no longer feels the cold rain on his skin, the goosebumps underneath his clothes. He only feels the irritation rushing through him. He looks back at you, staring at the frown on your face, the furrowed brows, the pursed lip, the way you’re breathing so heavily. 

You are angry and so is he, he is fuming. 

“I’m not letting you go until you get in the damn van.” 

You cross your arms over your chest, not minding the pouring rain, at all. 

“No.” 

He stares at you in disbelief. Who would’ve thought that you could be such a brat?

He takes a step closer, looking down at you, “get in the van,” he says, slowly. 

Eddie expects you to stay stubborn, to shake your head and continue to argue with him on that. To his surprise, you drop your arms to your sides and turn around but not without an eye roll. 

He shakes his head at the attitude you’re still giving him, the one that got even worse. He reaches for his car keys, following you to his van. Despite his anger, he still walks over to the passenger side, opening the door for you. The rain dripples down your face, you get in the van with a mad look on your face, not even sparing him a glance. 

Another huff falls from his lips when you continue to ignore him. He closes the door, not wanting to stand longer in the rain than he has to, he rushes over to the driver's side, quickly getting in. 

He pushes the key into the ignition, starting it but not moving to start driving yet. He looks over at you after taking a deep breath. You’re staring out the window, not moving, not speaking, not turning to look at him the way you usually do, even your knees are pointed away from him. 

“Are you gonna talk to me?” He asks as he grabs the steering wheel. 

Silence. 

He closes his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong, at least?” 

You only shift in your seat, huffing. He notices how fast you’re blinking, how you keep pressing your lips together to keep them from trembling. His eyes soften a little when he realizes that you are trying to blink away the tears that are threatening to fall. 

“Can you just drive me home?” You ask in annoyance. 

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you for a long minute, trying to figure you out. He feels restless, his heart is pounding and he dreads the moment he has to drop you off at home, knowing that this will stay unresolved, but what can he do? 

With a sigh, he turns away from you, he doesn’t even bother to turn up the music when he starts driving. For the first few minutes, the car ride is spent in silence. There is a storm raging in his mind, a million questions running through it, ones that he will find no answers for himself. 

You are silent. You are never this silent. You always talk to him, you never ever ignore him. 

“What the hell is going on, y/n?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the road. “Are you ever gonna speak to me again or are you gonna continue to act like a goddamn brat?” 

The faintest scoff sounds through the space between you, though this is all he gets out of you. 

He clenches his jaw and holds the steering wheel even tighter than before, he taps his finger against it, getting jumpy the harder his heart starts pounding. He doesn’t want to leave things unresolved. He doesn’t want to drop you off at home like this. He doesn’t want to deal with this tension, this anger from you any longer. He can’t take it. He can’t take the cold shoulder, not from you.

But he feels so powerless, not knowing what he did wrong, not knowing what he did to make you so angry. 

“What is wrong with you!? I invited you tonight, and you clearly rejected the invitation! You’ve been acting like a total bitch to me since yesterday night at Steve’s!” 

Not a single word leaves your mouth. He tries, he really tries to stay calm but he’s scared. He’s fucking scared that he messed it up without realizing that he did. 

In his state of anger and panic, he pulls the car off the road, slamming the brakes as he brings the car to a stop. He unbuckles the seatbelt, briefly glancing at you to find you staring at him in confusion. 

Oh, so now you’re finally fucking looking at him?

He gets out of the car, ignoring the way you mumble his name or the way you look at him with those big irresistible eyes. He stands beneath the pouring rain, not caring about the risk of catching a cold. He needs to cool off. He needs to breathe. He needs to think. 

He starts pacing back and forth, breathing heavily, thinking too much, too hard. 

He hears the door slamming and when he opens his eyes, he sees you standing there, even in the darkness, he can see the confused look, that same one that he has been wearing all day. Not just today, for the past few weeks. 

“Get back in the van!” 

He almost wants to laugh. 

“Seriously, come back, Eddie!” 

He won’t stop pacing, he keeps looking at you, at the way you’re standing there, not moving. 

“You make me so fucking mad and confused sometimes!” He yells over the loud rain. 

He sees the way you draw back, the way you look so offended for a second, before you start making your way over to him. 

“I make you confused? With what!?”

“Y-You tell me you wish you met me first, what the fuck does that even mean!?” He throws his hands up, he finally stops pacing. “You act like it never happened, like you never even said it. I-I don’t understand what is going on anymore! Why are you so fucking angry at me?”

You tense up, not daring to say anything. 

Eddie wants and needs an answer, he deserves one. You owe it to him. His brown eyes are filled with anger but they are also pleading. You have to tell him the truth but you can’t do that, despite what Heather said, you can’t do it. You’re scared.

You look down, huffing with your shoulders slumped, “fine, if you won’t drive me home, I’ll walk,” you say, stubbornly as you take a few steps before he jumps in front of you again.

He scoffs in disbelief, “oh, you’re not going anywhere until we work this out!” 

“Eddie–”

“I’m done with you running away from everything!”

“I’m not running.” 

He shakes his head at you, “no? Then what do you call this then, sweetheart? You keep running away when things get difficult or confusing but please, just this once, don’t run, don’t walk away from me,” he pleads, wanting nothing more than to take your hands in his.

You look up, finally meeting his eyes again. 

His hair no longer holds the volume from before, it’s drenched, water dripping from it, his face is soaked from the rain, his eyes blazing with anger and frustration, your eyes move to his lips and you once again, feel the fluttering in your chest, that you try to ignore, especially now. 

“You never say how you really feel, you never give the whole truth, you make me all confused and leave me hanging, all the damn time!” 

You shake your head, “when did I ever leave you hanging!?” 

He raises his brows, eyes widening as he looks at you in both disbelief and confusion. 

“How about the time you avoided me after you kissed Steve? Or the time you just disappeared on me for a whole week–”

“I called you every night!” You yell with a frown on your face. 

“Yeah? Well, you never told me why you suddenly needed to stop seeing me!” 

You swallow and look away, something that makes him roll his eyes. 

“Or the time you told me you wish you met me first? I-It’s been fucking with my mind ever since and I can’t make sense of it! You said these words to me and then passed out and the next day, you acted like nothing fucking happened!” 

You close your eyes, bouncing your knee and digging your nails into your palms. 

“Why does that matter now?” You ask, getting irritated the longer you stay out here, the longer you feel the clothes sticking to your cold skin. 

Eddie can’t explain the rage that is cursing through his veins. It isn’t directed at you but at the feelings he can’t set free because he can’t ruin this thing between you even more.

“It matters to me!” He yells, sounding desperate to know the truth. “Why do you say these things to me? Why are you so angry at me? Why aren’t you fucking talking to me?” 

You snap your head up, hating the way your heart is filled with so much fear or the way your body won’t stop shaking. He looks so angry at you – he is angry with you and your silence. 

“You never give me a chance to know what you’re angry about! But fuck, this time you are getting into my fucking nerves because you – I don’t know why you are so mad and why you keep being so cold towards me when I didn’t do shit!” He exclaims, feeling like his heart is about to jump out. 

He is angry, but he is mostly scared. Scared to lose you. 

You look offended by his words and despite it, you move closer and closer to him, drawn into him like a magnet despite the anger that should push you away, the way it always pushed you away from Steve for a little while before he’d come back asking for forgiveness. 

“Oh, so I’m cold now!? So you can be mad at me and act cold whenever you want, but I fucking can’t!?” 

He knows what you’re talking about. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. And as he looks into your eyes and he sees something else besides anger, he slowly begins to understand. He looks into your eyes, he watches the way the drops of rain run down your cheeks, the way your angry eyes are filled with unshed tears, the way you are so much closer than before, the way your chest is rising up and down heavily as you stare at him intensely, eyes scanning his whole face. 

He feels desperate. He wants and needs to fix this, he needs you to explain to him what happened so he can fix it, he needs you to stay, he needs you to stay with him. He can’t lose you. 

You stare at his lips for a long time, you listen to the way your heart is pounding, to the way your hands itch to touch his skin, despite the situation you find yourself in, despite the anger that is still cursing through your veins. 

You can’t bear this any longer. You can’t take this, not with him. You are so sick of the fighting. You are sick of being scared. You are sick of losing. You are sick of wondering and never taking action. 

“I at least explained to you why! You are afraid of telling me your reasons, and I honestly have no clue what your deal is! So can you please just tell me–”

You cup his cheeks and pull him down, not wasting a second, you smash your lips against his, not letting yourself second guess it any longer. You finally do it. You kiss him. 

You kiss Eddie. 

With your eyes closed and your body almost pressed against his, you move your lips against his as you hold his face with your hands, getting lost in the feeling of kissing your best friend, not even noticing how still his body is. 

Eddie stands frozen in place. His eyes are wide, his heart is racing like crazy. He stares at you, not quite understanding what is happening, not believing what is happening. Is this real? Is he real? Are you real? Are you really kissing him? Is this really happening?

This is everything he ever wanted. To feel your lips on his. To find out what it’s like to kiss you, even if just for one time. 

As you stand here, kissing him under the pouring rain that is crashing down on the both of you, Eddie can’t believe that this isn’t something out of his dreams. Not even the cold rain can pull him out of his trance, not even the racing of his heart can pull him out of whatever shock he is under. 

Only when your lips stop moving and you shakily remove your hands from his face, you open your eyes, almost fearfully. You get flustered, so so flustered. Your eyes scan his whole face and he notices how anxious you now look. You swallow as your brows pinch together, a look of rejection flashes in your eyes as they begin to tear up. You blink, opening and closing your mouth. You take a small step back from him as your shoulders slump. You look crestfallen and that finally causes him to snap out of it. 

You blink, trying to hide the tears that are about to spill. 

He doesn’t want you. He never wanted you. What ever made you think that he could want you? Who does? Who could ever want you? 

You take another step back, raising your hands towards your lips, “I-I’m s–” 

Before you can even utter another word, Eddie takes two steps forward, he cups your cheeks, not letting you move away or doubt yourself any longer, not wasting another second, he leans down and he crashes his lips onto yours, taking your breath away with only the feeling of his lips moving against yours, you can’t even stop the gasp from escaping despite having kissed him just now. But you easily melt into his touch and against his lips. Your eyes close and you kiss him back in an instant. The softest sigh falls from his lips when you start to kiss each other like you’ve always wanted to. It’s soft and slow at first. His thumbs linger on your cheekbones, your hands are now pressed against his chest, you can feel his heart pounding loudly,matching the pace of your own. The softest sigh escapes your lips, enough to make Eddie weak in the knees. You are both savoring this feeling, the feeling of the way your lips move against one another, the feeling of your bodies pressed together, the fluttering of your hearts, the joy inside of you. 

Eddie already knew that he was done for before this. But now, he is ruined and he doesn’t mind it for a single second. Even if you are only giving him a taste of this, even if this is the one and only kiss, he will die a happy man. He doesn’t know whether he feels like crying tears of joy or screaming in happiness when he feels you deepening the kiss, still going slow and soft as before but wanting more, more, more. He can feel you holding back. 

His hands leave your face, slipping down your – his soaked denim jacket, he squeezes your arms before his hands find their way to your waist. 

He could stand here forever, just kissing you underneath the stormy sky. Embracing the tingly feeling you leave his lips with, the giddiness in his stomach, the racing in his heart. He doesn’t want this to end, even when he’s getting breathless, he doesn’t want it to end. He just wants to keep kissing you. He just wants to keep feeling your lips moving against his, he wants to feel your hands on his chest, your body pressed against his, your breath on his skin, the taste of strawberries on your lips. He wants this to keep going. He doesn’t want this to end. 

But neither do you. 

You pull away from each other and open your eyes at the same time, both gasping for air as you stare at each other wide eyed. Your chests are rising up and down heavily. Rain is dripping down both your bodies but neither of you feel the coldness of it. You only feel each other. You only see each other. 

You only see him. You only feel him. His lips are parted, his cheeks are flushed, he is staring at you, eyes scanning your whole face. He wants more. You can tell by the look in his eyes as he stares at your lips, wanting to smash his against yours again, wanting to kiss you harder. 

And you want it too. 

You want more. 

You want him. 

All of him. 

You can sense each other’s desperation and this time, you both crash into each other after a long moment of heavy silence. You throw your arms around his neck as he tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you flush against him as your lips meet, once again. This kiss is unlike the first one or the second one. This kiss is filled with so much desperation, longing, and raw lust, it’s rough and everything you’ve ever wanted to feel. You moan at the feeling of his ringed fingers digging into your skin and his plump lips kissing you so roughly and passionately. 

Eddie still struggles to believe that this is actually happening, that you are kissing him, that you are letting him slip his tongue past your lips, that you are moaning against his lips, that you are letting him slam your back against the side of his van, only for you to dig your fingers into his hair, pulling and tugging at his wet curls. 

He moans into the kiss when you bite his lower lip, catching him off guard a little by the roughness of your touch. You press yourself against him, sighing and fucking whimpering for him. 

One thing is for certain, the friendship is ruined. 

Your tongues clash together, your noses bump into each other as the kiss gets rougher and rougher. Both of you are breathing heavily, neither of you want to move away but when the lack of air gets too much again, you part away from the kiss but Eddie can’t stop, he brushes your hair to the side and leans down to press his lips against your jaw, kissing his way down to your neck. 

“Eddie,” you moan in need, closing your eyes and biting your bottom lip when you feel his lips on your sweet spot. You keep your hands around his neck, keeping yourself pressed against his body. You have to squeeze your thighs together when you feel him against your stomach, when you feel his lips sucking on your skin, when you hear his moans as he starts pleading for you. 

“God, I have to have you, baby,” he murmurs against your neck. “I need you.”  

He is asking, begging for you. 

Your stomach flutters and your knees almost buckle. 

You want him too. You need him too. 

You reach for his face, cupping his cheeks as you lean in, desperately kissing his lips again. 

“The back,” you whisper against his lips, pecking them. “The back of the van, now.”

His lips twitch as his eyes light up, you keep pecking his lips, “please.”

He takes your hand, dragging you towards the back of the van, almost shaking from excitement. He opens the door and grabs your waist, “c’mere,” he murmurs as he pulls your back flush against his chest, pressing his lips to your neck before he urges you inside. Your stomach flips at the thought of what is about to happen. You bite your lip as you bend down, crawling inside, onto the mountain of blankets and pillows you and Eddie have put in here, months ago. Your palms land on the gray pillows as you crawl forward. 

Eddie’s eyes widen, his breath hitches in his throat when your short skirt rides up, exposing your black thong to him. His mouth waters and his pants suddenly feel ten times tighter than they did five seconds ago. 

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, swallowing harshly.  

Who would’ve thought that his sweet best friend wears lacy black thongs underneath her short little skirts. Fuck. A few months back you were wearing polka dot underwear with cute little bows. He only knows that cause he accidentally walked in on you changing, a few times. Something that led to uncomfortable situations for him. 

Snapping out of his thoughts when your desperate eyes meet his, he finally follows you inside, closing the door behind him when you suddenly reach forward and eagerly grab him by the cuffs on his belt, earning a surprised moan from him when you pull him down, on top of you, not giving him the time to react before you slam your lips back against his. With one hand on the pillow beside you and the other cupping your cheek, Eddie kisses you back, savoring the feeling of your sighs and moans, the feeling of your hands on him, as they start to explore his body, moving down his shoulders and arms as you start tugging on his jacket. 

“Off,” you murmur between pecks. “Take it off.” 

His heart flutters at the eagerness behind your soft voice. Without breaking the kiss, he takes it off, throwing the soaked leather jacket to the side before he lets himself get lost in the feeling of you. 

Eddie feels like his heart might explode from how hard it is beating inside his chest, your soft moans are driving him insane, your touches, the way you run your fingers down his arms before they find their way to his waist, pulling him closer and closer until his body is flush against yours. 

He allows his hands to wander, moving them down to your chest and stomach, basking in the feeling of your hands gripping his sides harder when he slips his cold hand underneath your shirt. 

You are the first to break the kiss, you open your eyes as he does too, both of you are breathing heavily.

Eddie stares at the lust in your eyes, the pupils that have widened, leaving almost none of the color behind. Your lips are swollen from the kisses, wet hair already a mess, you are breathing heavily, tugging at his shirt. Eddie adores you. He really fucking adores you. He wants nothing more than to rip your clothes off and worship you. 

“Sweetheart,” Eddie breathes. “Are you–”

“Fuck me,” you whisper before he can even ask the stupid question. “Fuck me, Eddie. Please.” 

Yeah, he for sure, died and somehow went to heaven. He is convinced of it. 

Your skin feels on fire. Despite the cold rain you’ve been standing under for the past few minutes, your skin feels on fire. Your heart is racing, not out of fear or heartbreak. No, it’s racing because of Eddie. You want him. You need him inside of you. Your body is aching for him. You are so lust filled – in a way you have never been before. 

Eddie’s cheeks are flushed, you can see it as you lay beneath the small string of fairy lights on the roof of his van. His eyes are black. His skin feels just as hot as yours. His strong hands are still on your stomach but you want them elsewhere. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming about this, princess.”

You are aching. Absolutely aching for him. 

Eddie kisses your lips, your cheek, your jaw, your neck as his hands start to push at the denim jacket, desperately wanting you out of it. 

“C’mere,” he murmurs, grabbing at your waist, he pulls you up with him, so he can take your clothes off. You spread your legs over his lap, watching the way his eyes fall to your exposed thighs as your skirt rides up. His eager hands get rid of the wet denim still covering your body, he throws it next to his leather jacket. His lips twitch, curling into a smirk as you start pulling his shirt over his head, feeling just as eager as he does. You throw it down, not caring where it lands. 

You swallow as you take in the sight of his naked upper body. The chest you've looked at many times makes your skin burn now, the tattoos that linger on his pale skin now look delicious, and you just want your hands all over him. You lick your lips as you lean closer to him, stomach fluttering at the sound of his breath hitching when you press your lips to the tattoo on his chest, keeping your eyes on his. 

Eddie’s heart makes a jump, the butterflies in his stomach go crazy. He grabs your sides harder. 

“Fuck,” he sighs in content, trying to keep his eyes from shutting when you start to kiss your way up to his neck. “Y-You’re driving me crazy today, sweetheart. C-Can’t believe this is real.”

“You’ve been driving me crazy too, Eddie,” you mumble into his neck as you start sucking. “Why did you talk to her like that? You’re mine.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, a gasp nearly tears out of his mouth. 

Did you really just say that?

You suck harder, fingers digging into his scalp as you tilt his head to the side, needing more access to his neck. You switch between soft and rough kisses, gentle pecks and just sucking away like a vampire who’s starved.

“Mine.” 

Eddie’s heart nearly explodes. This has to be a dream, a very very good fever dream. He is surprised by the roughness of your touch and by your words, words that aren’t directed at Steve Harrington but at him. 

You’re surprised by yourself but your mind is in a haze, your blood pumping from all the adrenaline, you couldn’t care less about showing how jealous you were, how possessive you are of him. He wants you just as much as you want him, you don’t have to be afraid anymore, you don’t have to fear that this might push him away, you don’t have to hide your true feelings anymore, not the way you did with him. 

You can be jealous, possessive, angry, selfish, a goddamn brat. It won’t push him away. With Steve, you always had to be the good girl, the silent one, the one that was afraid to show her true side because you knew that it would push him away. 

But not him. Never him. 

“I’m all yours,” he breathes as he grabs your cheeks, pulling you back so he can see your face again. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours, sweetheart.” And with that, he slams his lips back against yours, crashing them onto yours, earning a loud moan from you. He kisses you messily. Not knowing that his words make your heart feel more alive than ever. 

You smile into the kiss when his hands start to roam your body, sliding down your back and grabbing your ass, fighting to urge to push his hand under your skirt just yet, but the thought of your little black thong makes him groan into the kiss, especially when your hand slides down his stomach and you press your palm against his bulge, tearing another groan out of him. He starts playing with the hem of your shirt, slowly pushing it up, his fingertips graze your bare skin, causing you to shudder. You pull away so he can take your shirt off, leaving you in just your lacy bra. He pecks your lips one more time before he pulls back to take a look at you. 

“Oh fuck,” Eddie whispers as he takes in the sight of you, nearly moaning in desperation. He saw you in a bikini before, he saw this much skin before, but it’s not the same. It’s different. This is different. Your chest is only covered by black lace, your skin is glistening beneath the dim lights hanging above you, you are breathing heavily, staring at him with wide eyes, begging for his touch. Your hair is sticking to your skin, your lipstick is smudged, you look like the prettiest girl in the world. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, staring at you with nothing but awe in his eyes. 

You are blushing at his words, and yet, you are the one to take him by surprise again when you lean in to kiss his chest, but not staying there for long, opting to kiss down his stomach as you begin to unbuckle his belt, moving lower and lower. 

His eyes widen when he realizes what you are trying to do. You want to suck him off. His cock twitches at the thought of your pretty lips around him but before he can let his thoughts get any further, he grabs you by your elbows and pulls you back up. As much as he is dying to let one of his fantasies become reality, he’d rather bring another, bigger one to life. 

“Nope.”

A frown takes over your face and you look up with a pout on your lips, one that makes it impossible not to kiss you. 

“I need to taste you, sweetheart.” He gently pushes you back down, making sure that your head hits the softest pillow, he steals another kiss. “Please, let me be the first to taste you.” 

His brown eyes look into yours, waiting for approval, waiting for you to say ‘yes’. It doesn’t take you long to answer, you nod your head quickly, begging with your eyes. 

“Can I take this off?” He asks as he grabs at your chest, squeezing your boobs, pulling another loud moan out of you. 

“Do whatever you want to me, Eddie,” you whine as you let all the frustration, all the pent up tension that’s been building up in the past few months, out.  “Please, just, please do something.” 

His stomach makes a somersault at your words, he is almost in disbelief of what the night has turned into, but for now, he pushes the shock aside and only focuses on you. He unclasps your bra with little effort, peppering your shoulder and your chest with kisses as he pushes the straps down your arms and takes the flimsy material off. 

“God,” he groans as he feels the uncomfortable strain in his jeans that have gotten way too fucking tight. “I knew they would look good, but never this, baby,” he moans as he grabs your boobs, leaning down, without wasting another second, he takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking around it. 

“E-Eddie!” You gasp. 

His hand trails down your stomach, past your skirt that he flips over so he can touch you. He cups your pussy and he can’t even suppress the moan when he feels how much you have soaked through the thin material of your thong. He pushes it to the side, letting his fingers glide through your wet folds. 

“Please,” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. “More!”

He smirks as he keeps sucking on your nipple, teasing your soaked entrance with his fingertips before he brings them up to your clit. 

“You’re so wet, sweetheart.”

Your eyes close and your lips press together harshly when you feel him rubbing your clit in slow, torturous circles, stopping only to tease your entrance the same way. It only lasts for a moment though when he gets just as impatient as you are. He releases your nipple with a pop!, trailing kisses down your stomach. 

You push yourself up on your elbows, blushing like crazy, the closer he gets to your heat, the longer he keeps looking into your eyes, even when he settles between your thighs. Fuck. You are aching for this – you have been aching for his touch for a long time now. Who would’ve thought that you would ever get him like this? 

Eddie takes his sweet time with you, getting rid of your skirt first before he hooks his fingers around your panties, yanking them down slowly. Your breathing picks up and your cheeks feel hotter than ever. Even in the haze of lust, you feel a little shy and nervous, having never done this before. All kinds of questions start running through your mind, filling you with sudden doubts – ones that Eddie quickly shuts down. 

“Fuck me,” he groans, almost drooling at the sight of your glistening pussy. “You’re so pretty.” He takes you off guard by licking a stripe up from your hole to your clit. “You taste so sweet too,” he moans as he repeats it again. 

“Eddie!” You gasp as you try to close your thighs, only for him to spread them open again. 

“Keep your legs open for me, baby,” Eddie groans, wanting nothing more than to just bury his face in your pussy and make you scream and cry until you’re begging him to fuck you – and that is just what he does. He grabs your thighs roughly, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he buries his face in your cunt. 

He teases your clit first, licking around it, sucking on it as he keeps his eyes on you, the whole fucking time. Wanting, needing to see you fall apart for him. You moan loudly, he keeps his lips attached to your clit as his fingers slip inside of you, slowly, stretching you open. 

You squeeze your legs shut around his head, elbows buckling when he starts fingering you. His fingers certainly reach deeper inside of you than your own. 

“Mmmh, Eddie.” 

Eddie’s cock is twitching, begging for release. You are moaning his name and he didn’t even get started. He slowly starts to pump his fingers in and out of your sopping pussy. Licking down your center and slipping his tongue inside of you. You expect him to replace his fingers with his tongue but instead, he fucks you with both. 

“That feels so good, Eddie! D-Don’t stop – please don’t stop!” You whine, a little shyly. He sees the flustered look on your face but the lust is stronger than any other emotion inside of you, right now.

He groans when you clench around his fingers but start grinding against his hand.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.”

“I– you – ah!” You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut and letting your head hit the pillow, you dig your nails into the blanket. 

The van is filled with moans from both you and Eddie, heavy breathing and the wet noises of his fingers slamming in and out of you. 

Eddie has to restrain himself from grinding down against the blanket but you make it really hard not to. He keeps his eyes on you, watching the way you pinch your brows together as you bite your lip, still letting moans and whimpers fall, though. He sees the way you're gripping the blanket tightly, but he craves to feel you tugging and pulling his hair, something that Eddie wouldn’t allow anyone else to do. He reaches his hand out, wrapping it around your wrist, he guides it towards his wet curls and you instantly grab at them, earning a low growl from him.

He switches between licking and fucking you with his tongue and you can’t help but gasp and whimper at every flick of his tongue. This is unlike anything you have ever felt before. The feeling of his tongue slipping in and out of your wet hole, his thumb rubbing your clit, his moans that add even more to the pleasure. 

“You have no idea what you do to me, baby,” he murmurs. “I can’t believe that this is happening, that you’re letting me do this.”

You pull his hair harder and buck your hips up against his face. Your walls flutter around his fingers, your eyes sting with tears from the pleasure that he is giving you. You force your eyes to stay open, wanting to look into his as he keeps staring at you. You open your mouth to speak when he suddenly tears a gasp out of you, by curling his fingers, reaching so deep inside of you that you almost sob from how good it feels. 

“Eddie! What – oh fuck!” You whimper, looking down at him through your blurry vision. You watch him fuck you with both his tongue and fingers, tearing high pitched moans out of you when you feel how deep his fingers are inside of you. Knuckles deep. And you can’t help but grind against his hand, holding onto his hair so tightly as you squeeze your eyes shut, enjoying the feeling of Eddie eating you out so desperately and eagerly. 

He watches the way you try to say something only to be cut off by your own moans and whimpers, you turn into a blubbering mess when his fingers find your g-spot and his thumb rubs circles on your swollen clit. This is all he ever wanted. To worship you. To taste your sweetness on his tongue, his newest addiction. The fact that he gets to be the first makes it all even more special, you definitely won’t forget this. 

Who would’ve thought that your jealousy would bring the two of you to do this. 

He licks your pussy, moaning as though it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. He is holding your legs tighter now as he eagerly eats you out, shaking his head as he moves his tongue in a way you can’t even explain, you can only whimper out his name, pulling his hair harshly as you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the tension in your stomach becoming stronger and stronger. 

Waves of pleasure run through your body, you’re getting closer and closer. You are falling apart, barely able to keep your shaking body still as you feel his fingers pumping deeper, tongue moving faster, his moans adding to the pleasure. You squeeze your legs shut around his head, opening your eyes to look down at him, the look in his almost black eyes, the desperation and lust behind him is what throws you over the edge. 

It’s Eddie. Eddie who cared for you since the beginning. Eddie who protected you from the moment you two started talking. Eddie who unconditionally was beside you through ice and fire.

“I’m gonna – Eddie!” A loud yelp escapes you when you can no longer hold it back, he flicks his tongue again, making you cum in a way that has you seeing stars. He laps up everything you give him, eyes almost rolling back when he continues to taste you. 

You chant his name, over and over again, making the strain in his pants more uncomfortable than ever. He doesn’t want to stop, he wants to keep going, he wants to keep tasting you but when you desperately tug at his hair and murmur a whiny ‘I need you’, he presses a kiss to your clit, smirking at the way you whimper his name as he starts to kiss his way back up your body.  

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, not even fazed by the juices dripping down his chin. You wrap your legs around his waist and bring him closer, both of you moaning at the feeling of his dick pressed against you. 

“Still jealous?” He smirks. 

“Shut up,” you frown as you pull him in for another kiss. 

“You don’t have a reason to feel jealous, I want you, I only ever wanted you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the confession, eyes widening and softening at the same time. 

“And what about those girls you’ve been with?” 

He kisses your lips, “I never thought you’d want me back, I tried to distract myself but it never worked so I stopped.”

Your heart flutters in your chest, your lips twitch, you can’t help but smile as you pull him in for another, deeper kiss, one that he reciprocates right away. 

With one hand on your cheek and the other playing with your boob, he flicks his tongue against yours, moaning and whimpering for more. 

“I need you,” you whisper against his lips. “I need you inside of me, Eddie.”

His eyes light up and his dick twitches at your words. He never thought he'd hear these words from you. 

“Are you sure, sweetheart?”

“Please.” 

You push your hands down his body, grabbing at his belt again, you start fumbling with it, wanting to get rid of his pants quickly. He helps you, not stopping with the kisses even when he takes the rest of his clothes off. 

Realization rushes through him and he groans in annoyance. 

“Fuck, I don’t have a condom.” 

He watches the way your lips curl into a smirk. 

“We don’t need one. I never stopped taking the pill.”

His eyes darken even more, his stomach flips. 

“Shit sweetheart, you can’t just say that to me,” he groans at the thought of fucking you without one. This night keeps getting better and better. 

You giggle and catch him by surprise when you flip him over and get on top of him, straddling him. You wrap your hand around his cock, nearly gasping at the size. Pre cum is already leaking out of his tip and rolling down his length, you have to bite down on your lip to keep yourself from moaning. You need him inside of you, now. You press your hand on his tattooed chest, fingers grazing the chain around his neck as you slowly sink down on his cock, not wanting to waste another second. He stretches you open and you welcome it, loving the way it feels to be filled by him. 

You miss the way he stares at you in awe, the way he takes in the sight of you on top of him, the way you shut your eyes and moan loudly as you take in more and more of him, the way you bite your swollen lip as you moan for him.  

His eyes are wide, his dick is already twitching inside of you, the feeling of your tight, wet walls engulfing him almost throws him over the edge already because fuck, it’s you on top of him, it’s you sinking down on his cock, it’s you. He can’t believe that this is real, that this isn’t just another one of his dreams. 

“Mhmm Eddie,” you moan as you slam down onto his cock, letting him split you open. 

The moment he feels you clenching around him, he gasps, snapping out of his trance, he sits up, grabbing your hips roughly to keep you from moving. 

You open your eyes, a flash of insecurity washing over your face. 

“W-What, don’t you like–”

“Sweetheart, if you move right now, I’m gonna fucking bust, give me a second,” he whimpers, closing his eyes as he tries to concentrate on not cumming too quickly. He leans closer, pressing his chest against yours as he slides his hands up your bare back, pressing his lips to your skin. Kissing your throat, your neck, your jaw and down your chest. 

You wrap your arms around him, leaning closer, you bury your face in his neck, giving him a second to adjust to the feeling. You breathe in his scent, his cologne, his aftershave, the smell of cigarettes that always lingers. You kiss his skin and suck on it a little, wanting nothing more than to mark him up as yours. A whine leaves your lips when you start to move your hips, circling him. 

Eddie’s mouth waters, he moans your name loudly. He couldn't believe he could have you this way. The beating inside his chest is almost too uncomfortable for him to properly breathe.

Your hair is in his face, the smell of your shampoo and perfume filling his senses, driving him even crazier. You pull back, arching your back in pleasure and closing your eyes as you bite your lip with a moan. 

Before he can even react, you start moving, bouncing on his cock desperately. He watches wide eyed, with nothing but love and desperation in his eyes. 

“Am I dreaming right now?” He mumbles, unable to stop the whimper from escaping when you bounce harder. “Is this real? Baby, please tell me it is.”

You grab his hands, pressing them against your boobs “uh huh.” You keep bouncing on his cock, desperately. Surprised by your own self, by how desperate you are, right now. You’ve never been this feral before, and it has to do with the fact that since the very beginning you weren’t allowed to. 

He watches you, staring at the way your face contorts in pleasure, the way your tits bounce as he grabs at them, the way his cock disappears in your body. Fuck. This really is a dream come true. Suddenly, a flip switches inside of him, he grabs your waist and flips you over, getting on top of you. 

You open your eyes, stunned at the feral look that you see in his eyes for the first time. 

“I’m gonna do what I’ve wanted to do to you for a long time now.”

Before you can even say or ask anything, he holds your hips tighter than before and starts pounding into you, turning you into a dumb mess.

“Fuck,” he growls as his hips snap against yours and he fucks into you roughly, you feel so good, so fucking good. 

You can’t even form any words or sentences anymore, your mind is in a haze, your eyes barely staying open anymore, all you can do is moan and watch in awe how he fucks you in a way you’ve always dreamed of. His pace is brutal, his cock is splitting you open so perfectly. 

His hands are soft on you, his eyes look into yours in awe, with nothing but love but his hips move roughly.

He grabs your hands, pinning your wrists down beside your head, earning another loud moan from you. You love it. You love how rough he is with you, how he is fucking you so disrespectfully. He can tell by the look in your eyes, the fire behind them, the lust that keeps getting stronger and stronger with each rough thrust. You’re getting wetter, soaking his cock completely. 

You feel his breath on your lips as he presses his forehead against yours.

You wrap your legs around his waist, breathing heavily as he lets go of your hand, slipping his rough palm down your stomach, he presses you down before he ruts into you even faster and harder, totally knocking your breath away. 

“Feels so good,” you whimper as your eyes well up with a new wave of tears and your mouth begins to water. 

Pride swells in his chest, his heart almost busts. You are trusting him enough to do this with him. You are letting him touch you. You are letting him fuck you, make love to you. All his insides feel on fire, love and lust is all that he feels. His heart flutters in his chest when you look at him with tear filled and pleading eyes. You’re getting tighter and tighter around him. You try to raise yourself up on your elbows, only to fall back down when another wave of pleasure washes over you. Your stomach feels on fire, your legs are already shaking, you’re close, so close, so soon. 

He looks so good. With his cheeks so flushed, his eyes so dark, his pale skin that you want to kiss and lick, his arms that have gotten more muscular since he started working at the shop, his moans that drive you fucking crazy. 

One, two, three more thrusts and you can already no longer hold back, squeezing him tightly as you cum without even having to touch your clit. 

“Oh my god,” Eddie moans, not stopping his movements. “Just like that, sweetheart. Let go for me.” 

Your high pitched moans fill the van, the wet, squelching noises as he slams his cock in and out of you, not stopping as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“D-Don’t stop!” You sob, getting even needier despite the two orgasms he just coaxed out of you. “Please, Eddie!” 

He loves to hear you beg for him. He loves the way your body feels beneath his, so perfect and right. He loves the way you feel wrapped around his dick, like you were made just for him. Your juices are dripping out of you, making everything sound even filthier. He’s surprised by the way he’s able to hold himself back, the way he hasn’t busted in his pants while eating you out. He could cum just by listening to your moans. He is obsessed with you.

You are so needy for him. You won’t look away from him, refusing to shut your eyes, even as tears start to run down your cheeks and drool slips past your lips, you keep looking at him with that fucking innocent look in your eyes. 

As though that isn’t hot enough already. You grab his hand, raising it up towards your mouth and you wrap your lips around the fingers that were knuckles deep inside of you just moments ago. Your eyes roll back as you flick your tongue around them and start sucking. 

This almost makes him lose it. He almost halts all his movements as his eyes grow wider than ever. Holy fucking shit. 

“Mmmh.”

Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him tighter than before, causing him to growl in response. 

“Y-You’re –” he pauses, unable to find the right words as he watches you in disbelief, how you release his fingers and move his hand down to your throat, looking up with glossy eyes. You want him to choke you. 

His sweet ‘innocent’ best friend isn’t so sweet and innocent after all. You’re a closeted little freak. He should’ve known that there was a hidden sight to you. He should’ve known that you weren’t ‘just’ staring at the handcuffs on his wall for no reason. You’re a naughty and dirty little freak. 

He wraps his fingers around your throat, not enough to choke you, but hard enough. The sight of it only turns him more feral. He pounds you harder, letting all the frustrations out from the day and you’re loving every second of it. Both your moans are getting louder and needier. He smashes lips against yours, kissing you roughly and deeply as his free hand slips down your stomach. 

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs between kisses. 

You wrap your arms around him, closing your legs around his waist, you feel the familiar coil in your stomach again and it takes you by surprise. He presses his fingertips against your clit, making you shudder and twitch, you’re sensitive, so fucking sensitive but it feels so good. 

“I-I’m, I can’t believe this is real,” he moans, rubbing your clit. His breath hitches in his throat, knowing that he won’t last any longer. 

You dig your nails into his back, the moment his thrusts get slower but deeper, deeper than before. He tears out whimpers and sobs from you. You have never felt anything like this before. 

He rams inside of you, fingers overstimulating your sensitive clit. 

“I-I’m gonna cum, where do you want me–”

“Inside! Please cum inside of me, Eddie!” 

“Are you sure?” He asks with wide eyes.

“Yes, yes, please!”

“Fuck,” he growls in utter shock and pleasure, he kisses you again. You gasp against his lips, one hand reaching into his curls, tugging at his hair and scratching his back with your other hand when he makes you cum again. He groans so loud against you. 

You’re shocked, confused and in so much pleasure that it makes you cry. How did he make you cum so many times in one round? You didn’t even know that it was possible to have multiple orgasms, you only ever achieved one with Steve, and sometimes not even that. 

He spills inside of you with a loud moan, coating your walls with his seed. He doesn’t move away from you, he keeps kissing you, slowing down his movements. You are twitching beneath him, whining and whitering. 

His heart is beating faster than ever, your walls are pulsating around him as he fills you up with his cum. He whimpers into the kiss. He has never done this before and you are the only one he ever wants to do this again with, in fact, he would do this all fucking night if you let him. 

Neither of you want to stop, neither of you want this moment to end but the lack of air makes you break the kiss. Eddie lets go of your throat and after a few more kisses to your face, he pushes himself up, pulling out of you and letting himself fall on his back beside you but not without pulling you into his chest. 

You are both breathing heavily, both coming from the high. Soft sighs fall from your lips and you keep your eyes closed for a long moment. There’s no thoughts in your mind yet, not doubts, no fears, nothing – nothing yet. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie whispers as he stares at the ceiling before he glances at you, with a slight fear in his chest, scared to see regret in your eyes but instead he sees a lazy smile on your lips. 

“That was –”

“Fucking amazing,” he breathes, finishing your sentence. 

You giggle and it makes his heart soar. 

“Yeah, really fucking amazing,” smile and turn your head, you open your eyes and look at him. Taking in the sight of his sweat coated forehead, the way his bangs stick to his forehead, the way sweat dribbles down his body, the way he is staring at you with awe in his eyes. 

“We should’ve done that a long time ago,” you whisper. 

He raises his brows, eyes lighting up at your words. Eddie knew you wouldn’t treat him like other girls did before, yet the fear still lingered, that you would push him away, that you would regret it but instead, you lean closer and kiss his cheek. 

You keep looking into his brown eyes, unable to fight the smile off your lips after what happened. There is no doubt inside of you, none of it yet, not when he keeps looking at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. 

You snuggle closer to him, kissing his chest softly as his hand finds its way into your hair and he starts to play with it gently. 

“Hey sweetheart?” He asks after a moment of silence.

“Yes?” 

“That girl at the bar earlier, she was Jeff’s girlfriend. He was there too, by the way. He was in the restroom when you came in.” 

He tells you this without a hint of smugness behind his words, even though he now knows that you were jealous. He could’ve teased you for it, made fun of you for assuming something and getting jealous over nothing. But, instead his voice is soft, reassuring. He doesn’t want you to feel jealous, he doesn’t want you to doubt yourself. 

“Oh,” you whisper, smiling when he kisses the top of your head.

You lay like this for a while, with your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you, just enjoying each other’s company, not wanting it to end just yet. But when the thunder sounds through the night, shaking you both out of your little bubble, you realize how late it’s gotten. You only reluctantly start getting dressed, helping one another with your clothes, all while giggling and stealing kisses from each other. You are trying to ignore the fact that you are very sticky between your legs, though, you don’t mind it for a bit. 

Despite the giddiness that rushes through him, he can’t help but feel a little fear when you both get back in the front. Unlike the drive earlier, this one is filled with music and comfortable silence, even when he’s nervous about what will happen once this night is over. 

If he only glanced at you, he’d see the way you’re smiling, the way your eyes are glowing from all the happiness. 

He is tapping the steering wheel, he feels happy, happier than he ever did but he’s also scared, scared to look at you and see that you have come down from the haze, that you are back to thinking about Steve, that you are regretting it all. 

When he parks the van in your driveway, he takes a deep breath and turns to look at you only to see you staring at him already, with the cutest and brightest smile on your face. His shoulders slump in relief and his heart feels ten times lighter. 

You unbuckle the seatbelt, licking your lips as you move closer to him.

“Hi,” you whisper. 

Butterflies flutter in his stomach. He tilts his head, leaning in, “hi,” he smiles. 

You meet in the middle, closing your eyes as your lips lock. All the other kisses before were rough, passionate, fast. This one is sweet and soft, just perfect and it lasts for a while, even when you try to pull away, Eddie keeps stealing kisses. 

“Eddie,” you giggle. “I have to go, you have to let me go.” 

He cups your cheeks softly, smiling sadly as he leans in again, “I can’t let you go,” he whispers between pecks. “I don’t want this night to end.”

“It won’t be the last, Eds.”

Warmth fills him, his heart makes a jump. 

“Can I come inside?” He asks, not wanting to spend the night without you.

“You already did,” you giggle, making him laugh in surprise. 

“Well shit, sweetheart,” he smirks as he plays with your hair, caressing your cheek, continuing to peck your lips. 

If you knew you could feel this happy, this content, this fulfilled just by doing this, you would have done it ages ago. 

Fear, doubt and all your insecurities, kept holding you back from finding this with him. For once, you took the leap and you couldn’t be any happier than you are now as you sit here and steal kisses from Eddie.

“My mom is home.”

“So? I stayed a thousand times before with your mom at home.”

You giggle, this time it’s you stealing a kiss from him. 

“I know but this is different,” you whisper. “I don’t want to be quiet.” 

His eyes widen. He’s gone to heaven. The girl of his dreams, the girl he loves, the girl he thought he had no chance with, wants him. 

You grab his face, giving him one last kiss before you pull away, “I’ll see you tomorrow, handsome.” 

He stares at you dreamily, love filled with eyes and a smile that he can’t hide. Your hair is a mess, your makeup smudged but your skin is glowing and you look so fucking beautiful. 

You open the door but before you step out, you turn around and kiss him again, grabbing his cheeks and peppering his face with kisses, making both yourself and him giggle. 

“Good night, Eddie,” you murmur against his lips, looking into his pretty eyes. 

He pinches your chin between his fingers, stealing another kiss. 

“Good night, sweetheart,” he whispers, smiling at you. You pull back and get out of the van, a small squeal leaving your lips when the rain touches you again, unlike before, you now feel the coldness of it. Eddie laughs when you close the door and start running towards the house, turning around one more time to blow him a kiss. 

Eddie shakes his head with a smile, chuckling as he blows you a kiss back. He waits until you’re inside the house. The moment he sees the door shutting, his smile grows wider and he pumps his fist into the air as feelings of joy rush through him. 

You are barely able to contain the giggles as you quietly make your way upstairs, smiling brightly. Your cheeks are flushed, your skin is burning, your heart and stomach both fluttering. You bite your lip as you silently walk into your room and close the door softly. 

You press your back against the wooden door, you close your eyes and raise your hand up to your mouth, touching your lips that still tingle from all the kisses. 

Another breathless, happy, giggle escapes you. 

You can’t stop smiling. 

You tilt your head up, looking at the ceiling as you think about the way it felt to be kissed and touched by him. Your heart flutters all over again. 

For the first time in a long time, you feel happy again, your heart full of love. 

Though, when you look around the room and your eyes fall on the picture frame in your bookshelf, your smile falls when your eyes lock with the man in your picture. 

Steve. 

Your heart drops a little and your smile vanishes completely. 

-

tagging friends & mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @corrodedseraphine @succubusmunson @take-everything-you-can @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfirebunnyxx @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @chrissymjstan @sherrylyn628