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munson-blurbs · 2 years ago

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

Summary: After moving to Hawkins to take care of your ailing grandma, you end up spending a wild night with Corroded Coffin's lead singer, Eddie Munson. When you uncover his true intentions, you have no desire to ever see him again, but fate--and his son, Harris--has other plans.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fingering (f! receiving), oral (m!receiving), slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 7.5k

Chapter 1/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Late August, 1996.

July had come and gone so quickly, and you could sense it in the muggy air as the daylight dwindled away on the horizon of an orange colored sky. Your heels click along the parking lot pavement as you make your way into the dingy bar. Everyone told you that your twenties would be full of surprises, but no one warned you that those twists and turns would land you in Hawkins, Indiana.

The neon sign reads The Hideout; well, really, it reads Th H deo t, and the “o” is starting to flicker. You’re not the only one who notices the building’s crumbling exterior.

“Huh,” Jess says, crossing her arms over her chest. “This place seemed a lot cooler when I was in high school.” Still, she pushes open the door, where you’re immediately hit with the stench of cigarettes and beer. The floor is sticky with what you can only hope is spilled liquor, and you take a seat on a rickety barstool.

“How did you even hear about this place?” you ask your new friend, tugging your dress so it covers a bit more of your thighs. You had one night out to yourself, and Jess was insistent on you making the most of it.

“Used to come here all the time when I was, like, sixteen?” She wrinkles her nose. “They’re dirt cheap and they never card, so my friends and I used to get super wasted. Thought we were hot shit.” She flags down the bartender with a wave and a smile. “Anyway, you can’t live in Hawkins and not come to the Hideout at least once. It’s a tradition.”

The bartender, a woman who looks to be in her mid-forties, leans on the counter. “What can I get you ladies?” she asks. Her voice is raspy from what sounds like decades of chain smoking.

You’re about to order a Bud Light, but Jess cuts you off. “We’ll each have a Hideout Special,” she says confidently. “Make hers a double.”

“Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me? And what the hell is a Hideout Special?”

She waves off your concern. “Honestly, I have no idea. But it’ll get you buzzed fast.”

You reluctantly agree, sipping on something that tastes vaguely like a mixture of rum and vodka, with the pungency of rubbing alcohol. “That’s awful,” you grimace, and Jess just laughs.

“Yeah, they’re pretty rough going down. But you only have one night to yourself, and you’re gonna make the most of it.” She links her arm through yours, using her free hand to tilt the drink back up to your lips. “Now, drink up. The band’s gonna start playing soon, and you’ll need all the liquor you can get. Trust me.”

Corroded Coffin, the band in question, is warming up in the back room. Tuesday nights has been their slot since high school, and if their lead singer and guitarist has his way, it’ll be their slot until they’re too old to play. He’s tuning his ax, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, only looking up when he hears a faint “oh, shit,” come from his bandmate.

“Y’good?” Eddie asks, strumming gently to play a perfect A-chord.

“Yeah,” Jeff says, holding up a small black box. “Forgot I had this in my pocket; almost dropped it when I took off my jacket.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “That’s what you get for wearing leather in fuckin’ August, dude.” He squints at the object in Jeff’s hand. “What is that, anyway?”

“A ring,” Jeff proudly announces. “I’m gonna ask Viv to marry me.” The big, goofy grin on his face makes Eddie’s stomach churn. He looks at Gareth and Danny, expecting similar disgusted reactions from them, but they’re both smiling, too.

“Way to go, man!” Danny says, and Gareth claps Jeff on the back. “Our little Jeff is growing up.”

“Oh, fuck off, man,” Jeff says, but he’s laughing as he accepts the congratulations. He glances expectantly at Eddie, waiting for him to chime in.

“You two’ve been together for a million years,” Gareth jokes, twirling a drumstick in his free hand. “What made you decide to take the plunge?”

Jeff’s eyes dart around the room. “Okay, I wasn’t supposed to say anything,” he starts, voice hushed, “but Viv’s pregnant!”

“Holy shit!” Danny sputters. “Dude, you’re gonna be a dad!”

“Yeah,” Jeff agrees incredulously. “Fuckin’ wild, isn’t it?” His gaze falls to Eddie. “Does the seasoned professional have any words of wisdom?”

An uncharacteristic silence fills the room. Eddie can feel their eyes burning a hole into his head. He knows what he should say, what Jeff wants to hear, but he can’t bring himself to feign happiness. “You don’t have to marry someone just because you knocked her up.” It comes out with a snarl, meaner than he’d intended.

“Crazy thought, but have you considered that I actually want to marry her?” Jeff shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re not all content being miserable hermits like you are.”

“Whoa, break it up,” Gareth tries, stepping between the two guitarists, but the conversation’s already too heated.

“I’m not miserable, and I’m not a hermit,” Eddie counters. “I’m just not about to limit myself when there’s plenty of pussy in the sea.”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Thanks for the well wishes.” Eddie can’t help but notice the flash of hurt in his eyes as he walks away. A small part of him feels bad, but he can’t shake the anxiety that unexpected change seems to bring.

“So, what does this mean for Corroded Coffin?” he asks. “Should we consider this our farewell show?” He tries to ignore the irritated glares he’s getting from Gareth and Danny. It’s like the words fall from his mouth before his brain can process the damage they can do.

“Obviously, once the baby comes, I’ll have to take a step back,” Jeff shrugs. “And I’m gonna try to work some overtime before it’s born. Save some extra money, y’know.”

The room had been zapped of joy, and Eddie feeds off of the sullen atmosphere. “Nice commitment to the band,” he sneers. “Glad to see how easily your priorities change.”

“Yeah, man, you should try it sometime,” Jeff snaps. His fists clench, and he looks angry enough to throw a punch. “Maybe you’ll stop acting like an overgrown teenager.”

Eddie’s about to fight back, jaw locked in place and eyes seeing red, but he’s temporarily grounded by the sound of the manager’s tired voice echoing from the ancient sound system.

“Put your hands together for Corroded Coffin!” A smattering of applause signals their cue to enter. Eddie tries to shake off the conflict; it can be resolved after they play. The show must go on, or whatever it was that his high school drama teacher always said.

A balding man with a gruff voice introduces the band as Corroded Coffin. Jess’s eyes go wide; she’s already a few Hideout Specials deep and definitely feeling it.

“Oh, shit!” she laughs with a hiccup. “That’s my sister’s boyfriend’s band!” She motions to the bartender to pour her another drink, but you shake your head and just mouth water. The bartender gives you a knowing nod, probably grateful that she won’t have to be the one dealing with Jess tonight.

“Yeah, that’s Jeff!” Jess continues, pointing at a tall guitarist with tight curls. “He’s the one who knocked up Viv!” She cackles like she just made the most hilarious joke. “I totally forgot they were playing tonight.” She frantically waves at him, and he gives a small head nod in acknowledgment.

Your eyes are drawn to someone else: the lanky, ring-clad man who takes center stage. He grips the mic with black polished nails, smirking out into the crowd as he yells, “Hawkins, how’re we doin’ tonight?” The loudest cheers come from Jess, and you join in, letting out an obnoxious “woooooo!” in response.

The noise draws his attention, and you watch as his smirk shifts to something needier, hungrier, even. His big brown eyes land on you and Jess, leaving you momentarily breathless. He’s absolutely gorgeous, light stubble on his cheeks and above his plush lips. He’s wearing a white V-neck that shows off a dusting of chest hair. His torn black jeans hang low on his hips, accentuated with a studded belt. A gleaming pair of silver handcuffs are clipped to one of the loops.

“All right!” he calls back. “Well, this first one goes out to the pretty girl in the blue dress at the bar. Wait for me after the show, Sweetheart.” He counts out to four, and they launch into a cover of Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me.

It doesn’t even register until Jess nudges you, more forcefully than necessary, and says, “Hey, you’re wearing a blue dress!”

Oh.

“Who…who is he?” you ask, feeling a warmth spread through your core that you’re sure isn’t from the alcohol.

“That,” Jess says, leaning on you for balance, “is Eddie Munson. Total freak back in high school, but now he’s just got a reputation for being a freak in the sheets.” She throws you a clumsy wink and adds, “looks like you’ll get to find out for yourself tonight.”

“I’m not really a one-night stand kind of person,” you counter, internally cringing at the memories of your feeble attempts at hooking up, all of which inevitably ended with you pining after them pathetically.

Jess rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she whines, taking note of the way you and Eddie can’t seem to tear your gazes from each other. “Your dad leaves tomorrow, and then you’ll be spending your nights taking care of your grandma. You gotta live a little!”

Plopping back down onto the barstool, you consider her sentiment. It’s true; once your dad goes back home, you’ll be the one helping out in the evenings. And the new school year starts next week, leaving you with little time for yourself.

Your whole life has been spent helping others. You became a teacher to shape young minds and provide them with a safe place to learn and express themselves. You moved to a tiny town in the middle of Indiana to look after your grandma. Even now, you’re babysitting Jess and ensuring she doesn’t dehydrate instead of letting loose and ordering another drink.

“Fine, but only if he brings it up,” you concede. “I’m not gonna be the one to make the first move.”

The band moves on to their next song; it’s either an original or one you’re not familiar with, but you find yourself dancing to the beat. Jess joins you, writhing her body in some kind of drunken jig that has you cackling. You’re having such a great time that you don’t even notice Eddie tripping over a few chords as he watches you sway your hips back and forth.

Corroded Coffin plays for another forty minutes. You recognize some Metallica and Black Sabbath songs, headbanging along until you’re dizzy. The bartender slides you another drink—on the house, she insists—and you sip it eagerly, trying to quell your nerves. Eddie shouts out, “thank you, Hawkins!” and disappears backstage with the rest of the band.

You can’t ignore the dejected pain in your heart, but you muster up a smile and turn to Jess. “Ready to get out of here?”

She shakes her head, putting her palm on the bar to steady herself. “You still have to wait for Eddie,” she teases. “You promised.”

You cock your eyebrow in amusement. “First of all, Drunky McWasted, I didn’t promise anything,” you say, “and second, show’s over and, uh, he’s not here.” You swivel around for emphasis.

“Give him a fucking second, would ya?” The comment doesn’t come from your friend, and you turn around to see Eddie standing behind you. He’s got a towel around the back of his neck, mopping up the sweat from his performance. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, and you can see the remnants of kohl eyeliner smudged around his lash line. “Had to clean myself up a little bit, damn.” He smiles, and you feel like you’re going to melt.

Jess interrupts, pushing you closer to him. “Eddie, this is my neighbor.” When you still don’t say anything, too awestruck to introduce yourself, she tells him your name.

Eddie nods, letting his fingers graze yours. “What’d you think of the set?” He grins at the bartender, who gives a small head bob and hands him a whiskey, neat.

“It was good,” you manage, finally finding your voice. “I especially liked the song you dedicated to the pretty girl in the blue dress.” There. You flirted. The rest is up to him.

“Yeah?” He rests his forearm on the bar and leans over to take his glass. “Was kinda hopin’ you would. Soon as I saw you, I knew I had to shoot my shot.” His eyes flit over the low-cut neckline of your dress before he drags his gaze back to your eyes. “You new to Hawkins?”

“Mhm,” you say, watching as he fumbles with a pack of Newports. “I moved here to take care of my grandma.” Good going. Nothing turns a guy on like talking about your elderly relatives.

But Eddie’s unfazed. “Hot and nice? A lethal combo, if I do say so myself.”

“What about you?” you blurt out. “I mean, have you always lived in Hawkins?”

He shrugs. “Been back and forth. Came here when I was nine, left when I was twenty-two, then came back about four years ago.”

“What brought you back? Missed all the excitement?” You laugh and he gives a small smile, but an emotion you can’t pinpoint crosses over his face.

“Somethin’ like that,” Eddie mutters, popping a cigarette between his lips. “Wanna go outside an’ have a smoke with me?”

“I’d love to,” you say with an apologetic tone, “but I really don’t wanna leave her alone.” You motion to your friend, who is currently trying to convince the bartender to let her have another drink. But as soon as she hears you using her as an excuse, she waves you off.

“Go,” she insists. “I’ll be fine. ‘M gonna have Jeff take me back home.” She stands on her tiptoes, nearly falling over, flailing both her arms wildly when she spots Jeff in the crowd and shouting, “Jeffy! Jeffy, can you drive me home so these two can have sex?”

You feel your face heat up at her words as Eddie shakes his head incredulously, lips twisting into a cocky grin. The last thing Jeff wants to do after Eddie’s earlier tantrum is help him get laid, but he knows there will be hell to pay if he doesn’t watch after his inebriated sister-in-law-to-be.

“Yeah, sure,” he grumbles, carefully looping his arm around her waist and helps her to his car. He appears to deliberately avoid making eye contact with Eddie, though you don’t know why. The two of them seemed to be getting along just fine on stage. The rest of the band leaves with them, carrying various instruments. No one even acknowledges Eddie’s presence.

“Uh, everything okay?” You can’t not pretend you didn’t notice; the tension is far too obvious.

Eddie brushes it off with another shrug. “Guys all got sticks up their asses, I dunno.” He pulls a black Bic lighter from his back pocket and motions towards the door, signaling your cue to walk out with him and drop the conversation.

Chirping crickets and a rowdy group of drunks shouting obscenities at each other punctuates the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Eddie looks at you expectantly, holding out his lighter, and you realize that he’s waiting for you to take out your own pack of cigarettes. A pack of cigarettes that you do not have.

“Oh, I, um, I don’t smoke,” you stammer, biting your tongue in irritation towards your own awkwardness. “I mean, I’ll smoke, like, socially, but I don’t carry cigarettes on me. Sorry.”

“Wanna bum one?” You pluck one from the pack and lean in as he lights it for you. The crisp inhale of tobacco lingers in your lungs for a moment before you breathe out, grateful that you didn’t cough like a middle schooler stealing cigs from her mom’s stash. You take another drag, watching as he does the same. You’d thought that there would be some level of conversation, but Eddie seems perfectly content smoking in silence.

“So,” you finally say, “how long have you been playing guitar?”

He chuckles and pushes his hand through his hair, stopping where it’s gathered into a hair tie. The perspiration on his forehead is starting to dry, but his bangs still stick to it. “Shit, gotta be twenty years now. Damn, I’m fuckin’ old.”

“How old are you?” It comes out more accusing than inquisitive, and you sharply inhale more nicotine to shut yourself up.

“Turned thirty last month.”

“Oh, that’s not old,” you reassure him. “I’m twenty-eight, so…not far behind.”

He doesn’t say anything in response to this. Maybe you’d misread his intentions. Or maybe he’d lost interest after just a few moments alone with you. The pretty girl in the blue dress quickly becomes the lame girl in the blue dress, and you both return home unsatisfied.

You try again, this time saying something that warrants a response. “I just moved here last week, if you have any recommendations of places to go. Restaurants or something?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, ‘s pretty boring around here.”

End of conversation.

“Well, I should probably get home,” you say, shifting your weight onto your other foot and stubbing out your cigarette in the nearby ashtray. There’s no sense in wasting anymore time, and the nighttime chill is biting at your bare legs.

“Wait, what?” Eddie practically does a double-take. “I thought…didn’t Viv’s sister say something about…”

Or maybe you’d read the situation correctly after all.

“You still want to?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his own cigarette, and the smirk returns to his face. “Your place or mine?”

Considering the fact that your place is currently housing an eighty-year-old woman with declining cognition, and your father, you quickly jump at the offer to go to his home.

You walk with him to his car, a beat-up blue sedan. He opens the passenger door, and you thank him with a tight smile, still not sure what to expect. Maybe he’s just not into small talk, but he seems awfully closed off for a man who’s trying to get laid.

A tangle of tree-shaped air fresheners hang from the rearview mirror; they sway slightly as the two of you plop in your seats. Instinctively, you look behind you as he turns the key in the ignition. Nestled into the far left side of the backseat is a carseat. Cheerio crumbs are wedged in the crevices, and an empty sippy cup leans up against it.

“Is that a carseat?” It’s a dumb question; of course it’s a carseat, but you can’t bring yourself to be more blunt and ask if he has a kid. I mean, the guy couldn’t even tell you a single restaurant to go to.

“Oh. Yeah.” Eddie reaches around, placing a ringed hand on the back of your headrest as he backs out of the spot. He doesn’t elaborate on the matter, just speeds out of the parking lot, so you don’t push it.

The words, I love kids; I’m actually a preschool teacher, linger on your lips, but you bite them back. This is supposed to be casual, a one-night stand; you’re not trying to be anyone’s stepmother.

Eddie flicks on the radio to a metal station–of course–and you sit back and try to enjoy the ride. You can faintly hear him humming along to the music. The fingers on his left hand drum on the steering wheel, while his right hand finds its way to your upper thigh. Fuck, it feels good. He gently squeezes, and the sensation of his cold metal rings combined with his hungry touch makes you involuntarily press your legs together.

“Just wait, Sweetheart,” he laughs. “There’s more where that came from.” It’s probably the most he’s said to you all night, and you consider it a small win. You lean in and gently nip at his earlobe, grinning as he shivers at the contact.

“There’s more where that came from,” you echo, shifting back in your seat. Eddie looks at you, brows raised and forehead creased in amusement, but–big surprise–says nothing. He pulls into an apartment complex parking lot, swinging into the nearest available spot, and kills the engine. Without the music or the steady hum of the ignition, you’re suddenly plunged into complete silence. Are you really doing this? Going to a stranger’s apartment to have sex with him? What if he’s some sort of serial killer? But Jess knows him–sort of–and vouched for him, so he can’t be all bad, right? Although, Ted Bundy had friends, too…

Eddie clearing his throat disrupts your inner monologue, and you glance up at him shyly. “Sorry,” you mutter, though you’re not quite sure what you’re apologizing for.

“No biggie,” he says, like he’s used to women just spacing out in his car before they fuck him. “Um, y’ready to go inside?”

You nod, opening your door and carefully stepping out onto the uneven pavement. You wobble a little in your high heels, but you feel a hand on your lower back, steadying you. “Lemme help you,” he mumbles, lacing his fingers through yours and guiding you to the front door of the building.

The two of you only make it to the stairwell between the first and second floors before he’s pouncing on you, your back against the cold concrete walls. His hands start on your waist, traveling upwards and lightly grazing your breasts before he’s cupping your face. His kisses are hungry, but not sloppy; when his tongue breaches your lips, you let him in without a second thought. He places his knee between your legs, just barely nudging it against your lace thong. “Fuck,” he hisses, pulling away from you and running his tongue over his teeth, “I need you, pretty girl.”

You pout, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. “Can’t get naked until we’re in your apartment.” You pause before whispering in his ear, “and if you thought this dress looked good on me, wait till you see it on your floor.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “‘S just another flight of stairs after this, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just takes your hand again and leads you to apartment 3C. There are a few Hot Wheels cars scattered on the ground, but he kicks them under the couch without further explanation. He sits down, adjusts his body on the soft beige cushion, and pats his lap. “Your throne,” he says cheekily, exposing tiny dimples on either side of his lips.

Wordlessly, you climb on top of him. Your dress bunches up as you straddle his waist, though that won’t be a problem much longer. You greedily grind your clothed pussy over the rough denim of his fly, sucking on his neck as his strong hands clasp the back of your thighs and pull you closer.

“Needy thing, hmm?” Eddie smirks, chuckling when you feign offense. “Where’re you going? ‘M just teasing you.” He sits up a bit, tugging one dress strap down and kissing the flesh between your neck and shoulder. “Maybe I read it wrong, but…y’look like a girl who likes to be teased,” he says, voice muffled by your skin.

“N-No, I do. Like it,” you stammer, fumbling with the frayed hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. You run your hands over the expanse of pale skin, admiring his tattoos. There’s one of a red guitar pick right above his left pec; without thinking, you kiss it gingerly. He lets out a quiet moan, unzipping your dress and helping you shimmy out of it. You’re not wearing a bra, and he nearly chokes on his own tongue when he sees you on display for him.

“Christ, baby,” he groans, “got the most perfect fuckin’ tits I’ve ever seen.” He kisses them and runs his thumbs over your pert nipples before briefly sucking on them. The nickname baby isn’t lost on you, but you try not to read into it.

Still, there’s a sense of satisfaction at the way he’s crumbling literally beneath you, though you can’t help but snarkily say, “bet you say that to all the girls you bring back here.”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, sending vibrations through your core. “Only the ones with perfect tits.”

You hate yourself for wondering how many perfect-breasted women there have been.

“Bedroom?” It’s all you can manage, already breathless from dry humping like a goddamn teenager on prom night.

Eddie hesitates before shaking his head, a curl falling loose from the hair tie. “Let’s just, uh, stay out here. Room’s kinda a mess.” The unsure expression on his face hints at another reason, but he quickly distracts you by pushing your panties to the side, slipping his middle finger into your aching cunt. “Holy shit. S’fucking wet already. I knew you were needy.”

“Y-Yes. Need you. Need more.” You’re already stretched out by one finger, but you’re dying to know how a second one feels. The more of him inside you, the better. He obliges, fucking you with his pointer and middle fingers while his thumb makes tiny, hurried circles against your clit. “That’s it, right…right there. Don’t stop; please don’t stop!” He brings you to your orgasm, smirking as you finish all over his fingers.

Your rocking slows, and you reluctantly pull yourself off of him and sink to your knees. He’s unbuckling his belt as fast as he can, and you can’t help but notice the wet spot on his jeans right where you were grinding on his thigh.

Eddie’s pants and plaid boxers are around his ankles in a heartbeat. His hard cock rests against his stomach; a pearly bead of pre-cum leaks from the tip. “Let’s see what that cute little mouth can do, Sweetheart,” he muses, leaning back into the couch with his hands behind his head.

You bite your lower lip. “First I gotta clean you off, yeah?” you ask before licking the tip, tasting him. His length twitches at that minimal contact, which makes you giggle. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.” There’s no protesting, so you grasp the base of his shaft with one hand and cup his balls with the other. You suck on the head, circling it with your tongue, before taking as much of the rest of his cock as you can fit into your mouth.

“Mmm, baby, yes,” he growls, inhaling sharply when you gently tug on his balls. “Thas’ a good girl. Play with my fuckin’ balls, just like that.” He bucks up his hips, bringing his cock even further down your throat. “Gag on it, baby. Gag on my big fuckin’ cock.”

He’s not wrong; at least, it’s the biggest of any guy you’ve ever been with. Hollowing out your cheeks, you increase your pace, letting your nose brush against his patch of dark curls. Saliva drips down your chin; you swipe at it clumsily and keep your focus on him.

“Shitshitshitshitshit–FUCK!” Before you can even process what’s happening, Eddie pulls out of you. Thick, hot ropes of cum trickle down his right hand, and he buries his face in his left. You reach for a tissue and hand it to him, and he angrily wipes off his spend.

“Gimme fifteen minutes, and I’ll be good to go,” he says, tossing the used tissue in a nearby wastebasket. He finds the remote tucked behind a couch cushion and clicks on the TV. An episode of Seinfeld comes on. “You’ll do,” he mutters, plopping down next to you and poorly stifling a yawn.

“Sleepy?” you tease, wrapping your naked chest in an itchy wool blanket and curling up. He doesn’t put his arm around you, or make any attempt to cuddle, so neither do you.

“Nah, ‘m fine.” But nearly five minutes later, while Jerry and Elaine argue about God-knows-what, you can hear Eddie softly snoring next to you.

“Eddie,” you whisper. No response, so you try a little louder. “Eddie!”

“Huh? What?”

“I can, uh, I can go now. I’ll call a cab. Just need your address.” You start to get up and head for the phone hanging on the wall, but he puts an arm out to stop you.

“‘S’okay. Stay for a bit, baby.”

Stay for a bit, baby.

It almost feels like you’re taking advantage of him; his curt conversations and closed-off demeanor earlier in the night indicated that he was not looking for someone to sleep over. But now he’s asking you to stick around, resting his head on your shoulder and letting one tattooed arm drape over your waist. You let him stay there, trying your best not to wake him, but you’re forced to reach over him to grab the remote when an infomercial starts blaring.

“C’mere,” he mumbles, half-asleep as he lays down and scoots himself as far back as he can. You follow his lead, pressing your back against his bare chest. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you find yourself drifting off while wrapped in the warm embrace of this handsome stranger.

RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!

You’re startled awake by a loud, unfamiliar noise that doesn’t sound like your alarm clock.

RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!

Eddie jolts up, almost knocking you off the couch. “Shit, didn’t think you were still…” He turns towards the ringing sound, still confused. “What time is it?!” His eyes widen as he gets a look at the clock, which reads 7:19. “Shit, shit, shit! Son of a bitch!”

He practically flies off of the couch, sprinting to the phone and bringing the receiver to his ear. “Wayne? Yeah, I’m sorry…overslept. I can be there in ten…no, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just…okay, okay, fine. See you soon.” He hangs up with a clank, turning back to you.

You’re just sitting on the sofa, still wearing nothing but your underwear and the blanket. “Everything…um, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but he lets out an overwhelmed sigh. “Let me help you find your dress.” He doesn’t say it aloud, but the real meaning behind his words seeps through: you should leave.

You nod, feeling the all-too recognizable lump in your throat. It happens any time these shared intimate moments come to an end; the realization of just how temporary you are in someone’s life is a punch to the stomach.

You find the bunched blue garment behind the couch and slide it over your head. The fabric feels stale and cold against your skin, like it doesn’t belong to you. Eddie’s only wearing his boxers, and you catch yourself staring at the collection of tattoos that trail down his arms and torso.

“Like what you see?” He laughs when you duck your head, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks as he walks towards you. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Not after that little show you put on for me last night.” He leans down, tilting your chin up to him and kissing you softly. “Before you go, leave your number, yeah?”

That makes you roll your eyes. “Oh, please,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What?”

“Don’t ask for my number if you’re not gonna call,” you say. You sling your bag over your shoulder as you walk to the door. “We don’t have to do the whole song-and-dance. We can just, y’know, leave this as a one-night stand.”

Eddie chuckles incredulously. “You wound me, Sweetheart,” he says. “‘Course I’m gonna call you. How could I not wanna see a girl as beautiful as you again? ‘Sides,” he adds slyly, “We didn’t even get to the best part.”

Begrudgingly, you write your number on a nearby notepad. The phrase don’t get my hopes up for nothing sits on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back.

You’re halfway down the stairwell when you remember that you never called a cab. There’s no way in hell that you’re going to clamber back up to the third floor and ask Eddie to use his phone–and get his address–so you continue down to the lobby payphone and dial Jess’s number.

“H-Hello?” a man’s sleepy voice picks up on the third ring.

“Uh, Jess?” It’s clearly not your neighbor, but you have no idea what else to ask. Did she find some skeezy guy to bring home from the Hideout last night?

“Nah, it’s Jeff. Who’s this?” When you say your name, he hums in acknowledgment. “Oh, yeah. From the bar, right?”

“Yeah…is Jess there?”

He yawns into the receiver. “Last I checked, she was asleep. Finally. She spent half of last night puking her guts up. Everything okay?”

“Mhm. I was just wondering if she could pick me up from…um, from Eddie’s.” You cringe at your admission; the last thing you want is for Eddie’s bandmates to think that you’re some kind of pathetic groupie.

But Jeff seems unfazed. “I’ll be right there.” Before you can protest, he hangs up.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the glass-door reflection. Your hair is a mess, and there’s smudged makeup around your eyes and lips, like a billboard for the walk of shame.

Jeff pulls up a few minutes later, and you bashfully climb into the passenger seat. “Thanks,” you mumble, trying not to let your humiliation show through.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs as he pulls onto the main road, “it’s a special occasion.” When you pinch your eyebrows together in confusion, he laughs. “Ed never lets a girl stay over. Not sure what you did–don’t wanna know, to be honest–but you must’ve made quite the impression.”

“Didn’t mean to,” you say quietly. “We both fell asleep after…yeah. We only woke up when we did because some guy named Wayne called.”

Jeff nods knowingly. “That’s his uncle. He watches his son on Tuesdays when we have our gigs.”

His…son?

Jeff must notice the stunned expression on your face, and his cheeks flush pink. “Shit, he didn’t tell you about Harris?”

“We didn’t do much talking,” you reply wryly. “I’ll have to ask him about that when he calls.”

“Christ,” Jeff shakes his head. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s not gonna call. Never does. Calls it the ‘Cat-and-Mouse.’”

“The what?” Your throat goes bone-dry. You should’ve trusted your intuition, denied giving him your number, left it as a one-time thing.

“He brings a girl back to his place, has sex with her and asks for her number, but doesn’t call. When she shows up to the bar the next week, all insecure and wondering if he’s still interested, he acts like he’s been so busy, apologizes profusely, and strings her along until she catches on. Then it’s onto the next one.”

You feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest. Bile burns at the back of your esophagus, and you have to blink back tears. How could you be so stupid, so naive? Didn’t you know by now that guys like Eddie Munson are only after one thing?

The two of you sit in silence until he pulls up to your building. “Thanks,” you say finally, “for the ride and for the warning.” Jeff just nods, watching to make sure you get inside before driving off. As soon as he’s safely down the road, you burst into tears. Angry at Eddie, but mostly angry at yourself.

Eddie watches from his window as you get into a car–Jeff’s car–and leave. Great, he thinks, I’m sure I’ll get my ass handed to me at our next practice for fucking around with his sister-in-law’s friend. If we even still have a band, anyway.

Throwing on a pair of dark gray sweatpants and an undershirt, he makes his way downstairs just as Wayne and Harris arrive. His son is leaping out of his carseat to get to him.

“Daddy!” Harris flashes a gigantic smile. His dark brown curls are a tangled mess atop his head. Eddie unbuckles him and wraps him in a giant hug. He’s losing the chubbiness of his baby fat, but he’s still sweet and cuddly.

“Har-Bear!” Eddie laughs. “Did you say goodbye to Grampa Wayne?” Harris encircles Eddie’s waist with his legs, reaching out his arms to give Wayne a hug through the window.

“Sorry again,” Eddie says sheepishly. “Fell asleep and forgot to set the alarm.”

“Got a job yet? A real one?” Wayne asks stoically, ignoring his nephew’s apology.

A storm cloud washes over Eddie’s face. “I’ve told you a million times: nothing’s going to pay the bills as well as working for Rick.”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Get a job,” he says pointedly, pressing a kiss to Harris’s cheek before lowering his voice and growling at Eddie, “and wipe the damn lipstick off your neck, for Chrissake.”

Jeff’s right: Eddie never calls. The home health aid that takes care of your grandma during the day informs you at the end of each shift that week that no one named Eddie called for you. And while you can’t say you’re shocked, it doesn’t do much to quell the hurt.

You spend as much time as you can preparing your classroom for the new school year. By the time you’re finished, the room is decorated to look like a jungle. Stuffed animals of lions, monkeys, and different birds line the shelf tops, which are packed with various books and art supplies. Your walls are decorated with different posters, all of which encourage kids to be their best.

The hustle and bustle of the first day of school helps keep your mind off of your personal life. With a thermos full of hot coffee, you happily introduce yourself to your teaching assistant, Will. He’s a sweet guy, a few years younger than you, and he’s practically bursting with games to teach the kids.

“Before I forget,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, “I picked up our roster from the office on my way in. Looks like we have ten kids this year.”

“You’re the best,” you tell him gratefully, and he starts putting tiny chairs around tiny tables.

Being new to town, you don’t expect to recognize any of the names on the list. There’s an Abigail Carver, a Joshua Harrington…

And a Harris Munson.

“No fucking way,” you muse, apparently a bit louder than you’d intended, because Will’s head snaps up and he swivels in your direction. “Sorry.”

The sounds of bubbly giggles and excited chatter filing into the hallway grab your attention. One by one, parents start dropping off their kids, kissing them goodbye. There are tears–some from students, some from parents–and you’re quick to reassure everyone that school will be so much fun.

You’re just grabbing the sign-in sheet for Mr. Carver to fill out when you feel a small thump against your legs. When you look down, you see a curly-haired boy staring up at you with wide, brown eyes.

“This is my classroom!” he says matter-of-factly, pointing to the number 3 on the door. “My name’s Harris. Like the guy from Iron Maiden!” He jumps up and down as he speaks. “Are you my teacher?”

“I am.” You smile and introduce yourself, peering towards the door. “Harris? Did a grown-up drop you off?” And please tell me his name is Wayne, you silently plead.

“Oh, yeah! My dad has my backpack!” He starts running back to the hallway, only to crash right into Eddie.

“Little dude, you can’t be running off like—” Eddie stops mid-sentence when his eyes land on you. “Oh, shit.”

You set your jaw, willing yourself to stay strong. He’s on your turf now.

“Mr. Munson, you need to watch your language,” you warn crossly.

“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, handing Harris’s backpack to him. “I packed him a snack, um, and a juice box.”

“Okay,” you nod, crouching down to Harris’s eye level and injecting enthusiasm into your voice. “Can you find your cubby? It’s the one with your name on it!”

The little boy bounds over to his assigned spot, hanging his bag on the hook before running over to play with blocks.

Forced to interact with Eddie, you press up on your knees and say, “Pick-up is at two.”

“Can I say goodbye to my kid before you kick me out? Jeez,” he grunts, calling out to Harris with his arms wide open. Harris hugs him, half-heartedly promising to be on his best behavior before starting to race back to the toys.

“We walk in the classroom,” you tell him sweetly. “That way, people don’t hurt each other!” You make a point to look over at Eddie when you say the last part, though his gaze is trained on the classroom posters. Harris, innocent and oblivious, walks hurriedly towards the group of kids playing with blocks.

“Didn’t know you were my kid’s teacher,” Eddie remarks, pressing his tongue into his cheek.

You shrug. “Maybe I would’ve told you if you called me.”

Shooting you the wide eyes that he passed down to his son, Eddie lets his lower lip jut out in a little pout. “I’m so sorry; life’s just been, like, crazy lately—”

“Exactly what Jeff said you’d pull,” you bite back. “Two PM, Mr. Munson.” You walk towards your students to begin circle time, leaving Eddie dumbfounded.

After a long day of wrangling ten four-year-olds, you’re ready to go home and take a nap. The kids are gathered around the table, molding Play-Doh and giggling amongst themselves. By 2:10, everyone’s been picked up. Except for Harris.

“Typical,” you mutter, kneeling next to the boy and smiling sweetly. “Whatcha making, Harris?”

He holds up a lump of the yellow clay. “A dinosaur, see? Roar!” You fake being scared, and he laughs. “Don’t worry; it’s just pretend!”

“Oh, phew!” You wipe imaginary sweat off of your brow. “I was afraid that he was gonna eat me!”

Harris reaches over to where one of the other students had been sitting and plucks a handful of blue Play-Doh off of the table. “Wanna play with me?” He’s looking at you adoringly, and you can’t possibly turn him down.

Just as you’re about to join him, Eddie runs into the room. “Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. Got, uh, caught up with something.”

Harris just shrugs, unaffected by his dad’s tardiness. “S’okay. Look!” He holds up the dinosaur proudly, giving another ferocious roar.

“That’s awesome! And super scary.” Eddie ruffles Harris’s curly hair before looking at you. “Can we talk for a sec? Out there?” he asks, gesturing to the hallway.

You huff out a sigh. “Fine,” you concede, and Will slips into the chair next to Harris.

Eddie closes the door behind him. “Listen,” he begins, twisting his rings around his fingers, ”about the other night…” He trails off, and for a split second, you think he might offer a genuine apology. “I just don’t want this to affect how you treat Harris.”

You bark out an incredulous laugh. “You really think I treat my students any differently based on whether or not I like their parents?” Crossing your arms, you turn back towards the door, throwing out a pointed, “I think it’s best if you leave now.”

Eddie’s voice draws you back into the conversation. “I’ve never had this problem before,” he snorts.

“Excuse me?”

“Most girls love the thrill of the chase. The will-he, won’t-he. Haven’t struck out yet,” he retorts, a smug grin spreading on his face.

You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m honored to be the first. I don’t know what girls are into your pathetic games, but I’m certainly not one of them. So, please, just go before you say something else ridiculously stupid.”

Eddie bristles at that, standing a bit straighter and clenching his jaw. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters, twisting the doorknob and punctuating his frustration with, “Frigid bitch.”

He’s just trying to get under your skin, and you refuse to let him get the best of you. You plaster on a well-practiced fake smile. “If you don’t think that this classroom is a good fit for Harris, you can request a transfer with the office.”

“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart,” he snaps, yanking the door open so aggressively that it smacks into the wall. “We’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow.”

“Can’t come soon enough.”

Taglist: @littlepotatobeansworld @kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @definitelynotecho @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday @breezybeesposts @tlclick73 @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @krahk

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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syoddeye · 7 months ago

Text

reading recs

received an anon the other day that requested fic recs of all ratings, here's a big list of some of my favorites! definitely not exhaustive, definitely forgot people, and i am so sorry in advance for that. please mind the tags on these fics.

SNAFU by @adnauseum11

I've posted about SNAFU before. This is one of my comfort series. Excellent characterization of a retired John Price, navigating a relationship with one of his oldest friends.

Heavy Weighs the Crown by @sentientcave

Newer series, very yummy so far. I love Charlie's characterization of the 141 in this universe, and their writing is delectable.

Rugby AU by @sentientcave

Another banger from Charlie. Reader Ripper is also yummy. Something to snack on. To quote: "I don't know anything about Rugby tbh this is just vibes and thots. Something somethin elaborate rituals."

Nobody by @391780

My gateway fic into Nikto. Without giving anything away, every chapter sends me into a short spiral. The most recent chapters have done heinous (affectionate) things to my brain.

Ursa Major by @the-californicationist

Have you ever been to Alaska? Ever wanted to visit? Honestly, read this fic and let Cali transport you there. Her ability to set the scene and bring it to life is un-fucking-matched. Doc (Reader) is a smart, confident reader-insert that feels like a real person.

Binders and Boyfriends by @pfhwrittes

Trans 141 and Trans Reader supremacy. Another comfort series from the wonderful Parker. Everything listed here is wonderful, but I have a major soft spot for P's Gaz-centric works.

Housemate!Gaz by @pfhwrittes

First, in this house, we hate Reader's roommate. Second, we are Widget fans. Third, could you fucking imagine opening the door and your new roommate was Kyle motherfucking Garrick? I'd faint.

Call of The Jurassic by @stuffireadandenjoy

Another newer series that put me on the edge of my seat. When I first saw that Tats was giving us my favorite fellas and putting them in Jurassic Park, ooooooh, I knew we were going to be spoiled rotten.

Wrong Number Right Day by @stuffireadandenjoy

"Kyle gets a wrong number text but decides to be a little generous that day." Reader's living the dream. Text Kyle Garrick and get cash money for rent? Very excited for more of this.

Price of Pegging by @gemmahale

Pegging and John Price. I could stop there, but I won't. Gemma nails the depiction of a submissive Captain Price. She also captures the dynamic of a couple trying something new extremely well, that gave me some fluffy feelings.

All of Gemma’s WIPs by @gemmahale

I've had the absolute privilege to read some previews of Gemma's work and the WORK and the DETAIL and the CHARACTERS are chef's kiss. Delicious. It's so difficult to pick just one. I love the Feywilds. Useful Girl. Call of the Wild. Do yourself a favor and spend some time in the tags.

Offer Me His Hunger by @kaadaaan

Something about a 141-er and a single mom that's gonna do it for me every time. In Offer Me His Hunger, it's Johnny, and Reader has no idea what she's in for. Jesus Christ, Kadan writes one of my favorite Johnnys, and really nails that obsessive and calculating streak.

The Space in Between by @391780

You will laugh, you will cry, you will love and hate mafia boss!John Price. Reader crosses paths with John and the 141, and gets caught in their wake. Early writes some of the best Reader characters of all time, and this one's no different. This story will get under your skin so fast, in the best way.

The Arrangement by @391780

Speaking of Early, this is THE gateway drug to her work, in my humble opinion. One of the first COD fics I ever read and converted me into being a Price girlie. Sugar Daddy Price x a cute, smart, and fucking funny Reader. Also one of my favorite characterizations of Simon of all time.

Club 141 by @greatstormcat

BDSM and the 141 make a Sy very happy. Reader starts off with a fake ass dom and is quickly properly introduced to BDSM culture with the fellas. Really solid group dynamics. Make sure you read that Price x Ghost post for a good fucking time.

Lamb to the Slaughter by @ohbo-ohno

Probably one of my favorite Ghoap fics of all time. The way my jaw was on the floor for the majority of this should've sent me to the emergency room. It's brutal, it's horrifying, and fuck me running, I loved it, start to finish.

The Pit by @peachesofteal

First, the nightmare of getting into an accident in the winter. Second, having Ghost and Soap find you. Oh boy, The Pit is peak Ghoap manipulation. When I got to the end, I just sat in silence. Stunned. It was amazing.

Eyes Wide, Tongue Tied by tippytulip (if you're on here, pls lmk!)

Another early COD fic for me. A thrill ride with a whip-smart Reader AND it's set in the Midwest. Those are two ways into my heart. The relationship between Reader and Price isn't an easy one, and he gives her a dozen and a half reasons to dislike him. Another ride of a fic, with great action scenes and group dynamics.

Trapper, Keeper by @tinypandacakes

A König fic that makes me screech no less than ten times per chapter. Panda writes a fucking scary König and it blows my mind. So much of it is subtle and manipulative, with few outright (so far, it's ongoing!) examples. I get a knot in my stomach every time I read and I LOVE IT.

DOG by Danceofthesevenveils

Another König fic that features a pathetic loser König, who is also one of the scariest motherfuckers I've ever read. The use of text messages underscores the creepy vibes, and a great vehicle for the Reader x König dynamic early on.

Desire Paths by @ceilidho

Manipulative best friend Johnny, you are iconic to me. Ceilidh writes some of the best nasty Johnny fic out there, but Desire Paths has my heart. Another ending that had me gasping.

Take Me Home, Country Road by @ceilidho

Cowboy Price, take me awayyyyyy. A fantastic Western AU focused on a Reader with a secret and a Sheriff Price that'll make you sit up straighter. Ceilidh captures John's voice so clearly, I can hear it when I read. That porch scene is seared into my brain in the best way.

Tender is the Flesh by @crashtestbunny

Do you like scary Simon? Do you like feeling unsettling and turned on? *slams table* Do I have the fic for you! Connie's butcher!Simon makes my blood run both hot and cold. "Oh she’s a stunner." lives in my head rent free. Also the apron tie bit.

Pornstar!AU by @shotmrmiller

Warning, if you don't smoke, you might start after reading Toni's porn AU. I love this depiction of Ghost, his control and his care. AND there's a threesome bit with Ghost x Reader x Price. It's what dreams are made of.

#sy fic recs #fic recs #once again i will say the COD fandom is SPOILED FOR CHOICE #so much talent

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bteezxyewriter12 · 2 months ago

Text

Teach

Pairing- Jungkook x Named Reader x Namjoon

Word count- 7k

Includes- Getting caught, teaching sex, Jungkook is a virgin, blow job, deepthroating, pussy eating, cum eating, missionary, cock riding, multiple orgasms

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000 @amyz78 @blueie-things

Gif Credit- jung-koook

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝OT7 Masterlist

Jungkook POV

“Fuck”, I hear Joanne scream

She’s with Namjoon again

She’s always with him

I guess it makes sense

He’s her boyfriend

But they’re so loud and wild every time they have sex

And he always leaves his door almost half open

I lost count of how many times the guys or I have seen them both naked

They have like a kink where they like to be watched or caught having sex

They always have sex in public places too

And honestly it turns me on to see

She’s so fucking hot and she has a killer body

Just seeing her in so much pleasure and getting fucked good makes me horny

I want her

But I can’t have her

She’s Namjoon’s and he loves her more than anything

She loves him too, just as much as he loves her

They’re perfect together

But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to fuck her

I’m so attracted to her

She’s really nice, sweet and funny

And she treats Namjoon like he’s her everything

Which he is

I just want her so much

But the problem is I haven’t had sex yet

I’m 23 and I’ve never been with a girl

There’s just no time with how busy we always are

And I haven’t been lucky like Namjoon and some of the other guys who have girlfriends

It’s not that I haven’t found anyone

I have

She’s just taken

Of course I have to fall in love with a girl I can’t have

--------------------------------

I have to pass Namjoon’s room to get to mine

“Fuck baby girl, you feel fucking amazing”, Namjoon moans

“Mmmmm baby, you like when I fuck you hard?”

Jesus Christ

“Yeah”

“You’re lucky I love your cock”, she moans

Oh my god

As I pass by, I can’t help but look inside

Again, oh my god

She’s on top of Namjoon, bouncing on him

She’s covered in sweat and her breasts are bouncing hard from how hard she’s fucking him

She’s looking down at Namjoon, smirking and biting her lower lip

Good god she’s fucking sexy

I love her so much

She’s the girl I’m in love with, the girl I can’t have

I’d never take her from Namjoon

Ever

And it sucks I can’t be with her

There’s nothing I can do

I don’t know how long I’m standing there watching them, when she looks up and sees me in the doorway

She smirks at me and I get hard

Like instantly

“We have an audience Joonie”, she says seductively

Fuck me

He looks over at me and smirks too

“Wanna watch Jungkook?”, he asks

What?

I mean yeah I do but is he actually gonna let me?

“You want him to watch baby?”, he asks her, smirking

She bites her lip as she looks at me

“Yeah. I want Kookie to watch”, she answers

“C'mon Kookie”, she calls

I fucking can’t

This is insane

“Jungkook c'mon. She wants you to come in”, Namjoon says

“Yyy… you’re ok with this?”, I ask

“Yeah, I’m good with it”, he answers, “Close the door”

I walk inside his room, closing the door behind me

“Bring the computer chair here Kookie and sit”, she requests

I do as she asks

“C'mon baby. Ride me”, Namjoon tells her

She starts moving again

I watch her slide up and down him, his cock going in and out of her pussy

“Fuck”, I whisper

I’m so fucking hard, my cock is straining against my pants

“C'mon baby, Jungkook wants to see you cum”, he tells her

“Right?”, he asks me

I can’t speak, so I just nod

She nods and starts slamming herself harder on him, her hands behind her, leaning on his legs

“Yeah baby. You’re getting so tight. Almost baby”, Namjoon groans

I can’t believe I’m watching this

I see her body start shaking on top on Namjoon

“Fuck, fuck”, she screams, coming on him, “NAMJOON”

“Fuck baby, oh shit it feels so good”, he moans, his eyes closed and hands gripping her hips hard

The fucking pleasure on her face is insane

She’s even more goddamn gorgeous when she cums

Fuck, I want her to cum on me

When she finishes, she stops moving, just sitting on Namjoon, breathing hard

He sits up, pulling her to him in a kiss

When they break apart, she glances over at me

She giggles, “Kookie is hard”

Namjoon looks over at me, then he pulls her to him, whispering in her ear

She whispers back to him and he answers her in a whisper

What the hell are they talking about?

“You sure?”, she asks

“I’m sure baby”, he answers

“Ok”

Namjoon turns back to me

“Want a turn?”, he asks

I feel my eyes pop out of my head

Did her really just ask me if I want to have sex with his girlfriend?

“Wwww….what?”, I stammer

“Do you want to fuck her?”, he asks again

“Seriously? Sss….she wants that?”

I can’t wrap my head around it

“Yeah Kookie. If you want to”, she answers

Of course I want to

But I’ve never done this before

“Yyy….yes I want to bbbut, I’ve never uh….”, I trail off

“You never had sex before?”, she asks surprised

I shake my head

“Any kind? Not even oral or handjob?”

“No”, I answer

“I’ll teach you”, Namjoon says

WHAT? What the hell is going on?

“I’ll show you what to do and you just copy”

He’s offering to teach me how to fuck his girlfriend?

Is he high?

“Don’t look surprised Jungkook, we’ve had threesomes before”, he rolls his eyes

“You have?”, I squeak

“Yeah”, she answers

“With another guy?”

“Yeah with other guys. Girls too”, he answers

“Hhh…have you had any with the other members?”, I ask

“No, you’d be the first”, she answers, “And probably the only”

Again, holy shit

“But you don’t have to Kookie. I didn’t know you’ve never had sex before. If your saving it for the right girl or something like that, it’s cool”, she continues

She is the right girl

For me anyway

I want to lose my virginity to her

“Ok”, I nod

“Ok to what?”, Namjoon asks

“Ok to being with her”, I answer

He shrugs, “Ok then. But don’t touch me”

Is he kidding?

No fucking way

“I won’t. Don’t touch me”, I shoot back

“Not a problem”

Fine then

I can’t believe this is happening

He turns to her, “C'mon baby, off”

She climbs off and sits on the bed, while Namjoon puts his boxers on

He turns to me, “Get undressed but leave your boxers on”

I start to undress.

I’m aware that she’s is watching me

I take my shirt off and I hear her take a sharp breath, “Damn”

I smile to myself

She likes my body

Thank god

Once I’m undressed, Namjoon says to her, “Lay down baby and open you’re pretty legs for Kookie”

Fuck

She lays down and opens her legs wide

And I almost fall down

On my god

She’s fuck so wet already

Namjoon lays next to her and he points to her other side

I go next to her

Namjoon kisses her, “You gonna be a good girl baby and cum a lot for Kookie?”

I let out a whimper sound

“Yeah Joonie”

“Good girl”, he murmurs

“Kiss her Kookie”, Namjoon instructs

Fuck yes

I hover over her, looking down at her

She’s fucking beautiful

Her gorgeous eyes, amazing smile

“Kiss me Kookie”, she requests

I lean over, pressing my lips to hers

Oh god

Her kiss is amazing

She wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her body into mine

Fuck her skin feels so good against mine, so smooth and so fucking soft

I run my hand along my body, touching her

Her tongue slides in my mouth, feeling so good, her hand in the back of my hair, pulling

I fucking love it

“Enough”, Namjoon says

She lets go of me and I move back

“Watch”, Namjoon orders

He slides his hand down her body, touching her

He glides his finger up and down her pussy, making her moan

“She likes anything you do to her.”, he says

His fingers move up rubbing her clit

“Fuck”, she moans

“Anything makes her wet. Our girl loves sex, loves to cum. And I love making her”, her looks up at me, “And you will too”

Our girl?

He said she’s ours

That makes me happy although I know it’s just for right now

I watch him slide his fingers inside her and move rapidly in and out

Her body shakes from his fingers

“She likes when you fuck her with your fingers and play with her clit at the same time”

He puts his thumb on her clit and moves it as he finger fucks her

“Yes Joonie”, she cries

“Good girl”, he praises her

He leans down and sucks on her nipple

She yells louder, her hand going in his hair and pulling

This is making me so horny

Then he lets go and pulls his fingers out

“Joonie”, she whines

“You’re turn. Make her cum”, he orders

I gulp, but reach out to her

I’m so scared I can’t do it, can’t make her feel good, can’t please her

And I want to so much

I touch her, my fingers on her pussy, feeling how wet she is

“So wet”, I whisper, moving my hand to her clit

I start rubbing her there and she shivers

Oh fuck she likes it

“Put your fingers in her. Baby wants to cum”, Namjoon informs me

I nod and slide my fingers in her pussy

Holy shit

She’s so fucking wet and tight

I want to know how she’d feel on my cock

Her tight pussy sliding up and down me, getting me all wet

Fuck I want that so much

But I have to wait

It’s worth it

“Kookie”, she moans my name

I’ve never loved hearing my name as much as I have right now

I move my fingers, slowly at first, getting faster each time I slide back in her

Putting my thumb on her clit, I move on there too

Her body lifts from the bed, responding to me

It’s fucking amazing

“Kookie, it feels good”, she moans

I feel her throbbing on my fingers

“Suck her nipple. She’s almost there”, Namjoon says

Taking her nipple in my mouth I suck rapidly

“Kookie”, she yells, clenching my fingers as she orgasms

Fuck, fuck

I made her cum

I watch her, pleasure all over her face

So fucking gorgeous

Her body falls against the bed when she’s done and I pull my fingers out, looking at her cum all over them

Namjoon puts his fingers in her, takes them out and puts them in his mouth

I feel my eyes widen, watching him

“She tastes really good. It’s all over your fingers. Taste her”, he suggests

I bring my fingers to my mouth and suck on them

“Fuck”, I whisper

“Like it?”, he asks

I nod, “She tastes fucking amazing. I fucking love it”

I do

She’s so fucking good

I’ve never tasted anything so good, so sweet

“You want more?”, Namjoon smirks

I nod

Fuck yes

“Get up”, he orders me as he stands

I stand up, watching him maneuver her, pulling her to the edge of the bed

“Now you’re gonna learn how to eat pussy”, he tells me, “Lucky for you I’m really good at it, so you’ll learn how to be good too”

“Right baby?”, he asks her

“Yeah baby”, she smirks, getting up on her elbows, “I love my Joonie’s tongue”

Jesus, I’ve never been this turned on in my life

“Open baby”, he says

She opens her legs again and I just stare at her

Her pussy is so pretty

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Watch”, Namjoon orders

He puts his tongue on her, then licks up

“Yes”, she shouts

“Baby loves getting her pussy licked. There’s a lot of ways to lick her. Use all your tongue”

He lays his flat on her and moves it, licking up her pussy again

“Use just the tip of your tongue”

He licks up and down with just the tip of his tongue

“You can swirl your tongue around her, go fast or slow, light or hard”

He demonstrates it all, while she moans and whimpers

“You can go inside too”

He slides his tongue in her, licks up and out, then dips back in

“She likes all of it. All of it makes her cum”, he says between licks, “But I’m going to show you how to make her cum good and hard”

“Ok”, I whisper

“I don’t know about other girls, but our girl loves when you play with her clit”

He licks her clit, making her shake, “Right baby girl?”

She bites her lip, nodding

“Again, you can lick her slow or fast, hard or soft, all tongue or just tip”

He demonstrates all to me

I gotta say, he is good at eating pussy from the way she’s going crazy

“But baby girl especially loves when you suck her clit”

I watch him put his mouth around her clit and suck

“NAMJOON!”, she screams

“Good girl”, he praises her

I watch him suck her clit hard, slow, fast and gently

He lets go of her clit, then looks at me

“Got it?”, he asks

“Yeah”

“Good”

He goes back to her pussy, sucking her clit

“You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”, he asks her

“Yes! Yes Joonie. Don’t stop baby”, she screams

Holy hell

I watch her body tremble, listen to her screams as she cums

Namjoon slides his tongue inside her, licking her cum and making her orgasm again

Shit, I didn’t know girls can cum right after the other

“My baby girl always tastes good”, he praises her, pulling away

Holy shit

"Go play Kookie”, he tells me, sitting next to her

“C'mon Kookie. I want to feel your wet tongue on me”, she requests

“Ok….baby”, I try out

She smiles at me, nodding

Kneeling in front of her, I put my hands on her thighs, laying my tongue on her

I swipe up, listening to her moan when I do

Fuck me

I start moving my tongue faster around her pussy

Fuck she tastes good

I love the way she feels on my tongue

So soft and wet

I swirl my tongue around her, then try the different ways Namjoon showed me how to lick her

I figure out that, right now anyway, she likes it fast and hard

“Play with her clit”, Namjoon says

Moving my tongue there, I slide up and down rapidly with the tip of my tongue

“Kookie, fuck, you’re so good with your tongue”, she cries

Yes!

Thank god she loves it

I was so worried I’d suck

I’ve never done this before

“Suck her clit”, Namjoon demands

“Yes Kookie please baby. Suck my clit. I want it so bad”, she pleads

Fuck

I pull her clit in my mouth and suck hard and faster

“Yes”, she shouts, “More Kookie, more”

I obey, giving her more

“I’m….I’m..”

“Cum in Kookie’s mouth baby”, Namjoon tells her, kissing her shoulder

“JUNGKOOK!”, she screams, her hips moving, fucking my face when she orgasms

Her cum hits my tongue and I’m hit with her fucking amazing taste again

I want more

Sliding my tongue in her, I lick it up, swallowing

“JUNGKOOK!”, she yells again, her pussy tightening on my tongue, her cum covering it when she orgasms again

I swallow, getting ready to move away, but she puts her hands in my hair, keeping me to her

“Again Kookie, please”, she begs, fucking my mouth

Oh god, she doesn’t want me to stop

I won’t

I continue to eat her out, tongue running all over her until she climaxes again

After, she lets go and I pull away

“Good baby?”, Namjoon asks

“Incredible”, she breathes, looking at me

“I need you baby”, Namjoon whispers

She nods

He pulls her up, positioning her on her hands and knees on the bed

Taking his boxers off, he slides his cock in her and starts fucking her

“Fuck”, she moans

“Stand up Kookie”, he commands

When I’m standing, he tells her, “Suck Kookie’s cock baby. He made you cum, now it’s your turn”

Oh fuck

A blow job from her

Yes please

She nods, then smiles at me

“Come here Kookie”

I move closer to her, letting her pull down my boxers

She giggles, “Aw baby’s so horny he’s leaking”

I look down and yeah I am leaking

“I’ll fix it”, she says, licking the cum from my head

She puts me in her mouth and starts sucking fast

Pleasure blasts through my body while I watch her

I can’t believe this is happening

She’s getting fucked from behind while she blows me

Never in a million years would I think this would happen

She puts her hand on my hip, pulling me closer, getting all of me in her mouth, sliding down her throat

I watch her amazed that she’s not gagging

She keeps sucking hard and fast, the pleasure so intense

“You like it Kookie?”, Namjoon asks, “Baby likes cock in her mouth. She’s so good at blow jobs”

“Yyyy…yeah….she is”, I whisper

She looks up at me and smiles

Fuck that’s hot

Moving back she sucks just on my head, her hand wrapping around my shaft, jerking me off while she sucks

“Fuck baby, you’re mouth is fucking amazing”, I moan

“Fuck Jo, you gonna cum baby? I feel you”, Namjoon moans

She nods

Oh god

I know if I see her cum, I’m going to too

She takes all of me in her mouth again, sucking fast

“Cum on my cock baby”, Namjoon orders

It’s like he has command over her body because after he says it, she cums, screaming on my cock, her arms shaking

I can’t handle it and the next suck has me shouting her name while I cum in her mouth

“Fuck JOANNE, fuck”

“Good girl. Swallow Kookie’s cum baby”

She swallows on my cock and it feels so good

She lets go and I move back, pulling my boxers up

Namjoon pulls out and stands moving in front of her

“Go ahead baby”, he tells her

She pulls him to her, his cock all in her mouth, blowing him too

“Good girl.”, he moans

“Go play with her”, Namjoon tells me, “You need to get hard again to fuck her later”

He’s right, I need to get hard again

I still want her and I want it to be good for her

She’s still on her hands and knees, so I lay down under her, pulling her to my mouth by her hips

I wrap my mouth around her clit and start sucking

Her legs tremble around my head and I hear her moaning

I can never get enough of how she responds to me

Running my tongue all over her pussy, I lay there fucking loving having her in my mouth

“Yes baby fuck”, Namjoon yells

I hear him kiss her, then move and sit in the computer chair

“Kookie”, she moans, turning me on

I can never un-hear the way she moans my name

“Please baby”, I plead

“Kookie, fuck”, she whimpers, coming

I hold her on my mouth as I lick everything she gives me

She moves off me laying on the bed next to me

She kisses my cheek and I turn to her kissing her lips

My heart soars when she kisses me back

“Baby, you ready for Kookie to fuck you?”, Namjoon asks

She lifts her head from me and nods, “Yeah”

“Go ahead Kookie”, Namjoon tells me, “Play around. You can go hard, fast, slow or soft. But you have to make her cum before you do, got it?”

I nod

“Start with the normal position with you on top of her. After she cums you can move her on her hands and knees or she can go on top of you”

“Ok”, I answer, so nervous

“Do you want to Kookie?”, she asks me

I run my fingers in her hair, nodding, “Yeah I want to”, I nod

She smiles and my breath leaves my body

“Come on top Kookie”, she says as she pulls my boxers down

I get them off and while I move, she lays on her back, with her legs open

I go on top of her, my cock right there

“Kiss me”, she requests

I lean down my lips on hers, tongue slipping in her mouth

Her hands run all over my body, making fire run through my skin everywhere her fingers touch

She moves her hand between us and aligns me right there

“Please”, she whispers, making me moan and nod

I slowly push inside, breathing hard from the feel of her

“Oh my god”, I whisper, feeling how tight and wet she is

Once I get all the way in, I have to stop for a second before I cum immediately

I lay my head on her, face in her neck while I shake and calm down

I feel her run her hand in my hair

“You feel so good Kookie. So hard and so big. So perfect for me”, she praises

Oh god, she has to stop or I’m going to cum right now

But I’m happy she likes how I feel

“Are you ok? Do you not like it?”, she asks

Is she insane?

“I love it Jo. You feel so fucking amazing baby. So tight and wet. I…I..just need a minute or I’m going to cum from how you feel”

She giggle

I fucking love that sound

“Ok baby.”, she answers, “I love feeling you too”

“Is he ok?”, Namjoon asks

“Yeah baby. He just needs a minute”, she answers

“Huh, he likes your pussy that much”

I feel her nod

“Well I love it too so I know what he feels”, her tells her

I don’t know if he feels exactly what I do

It’s not just sex, it’s being with her

It’s me being happy I’m with her

Once I get a grip over myself, I start to move, sliding in and out of her

Pleasure bursts all over my body, all my nerves on fire

“Fuck fuck fuck”, I moan

Starting slow, I go a little faster with each thrust

“Oh god”, she moans, pressing her body into mine, “Harder Kookie”

I obey and thrust harder, making her so much more wet

“Like it baby?”, Namjoon asks

“Yes. Yes I love it”, she cries, pleasure all over her face

I love that I’m making her feel so good

Giving her so much pleasure

She holds onto my body tightly while I move

“Jjjj…Joonie”, she calls

Joonie?

Why is she calling him?

My confidence takes a hit when she calls him

“Yeah baby?”

“Cccc….can he stay?”, she asks

What?

“What?”, he asks

“I…I love Kookie inside me. I don’t want him to leave. Can he stay? Please?”, she moans

Holy shit

She wants me and she’s asking her boyfriend if she can still have me in her

My mind is fucking blown and my confidence just hit the roof

“Yeah baby, it’s ok with me.”, he answers, “But you have to ask Kookie”

“Kookie please stay. Don’t leave”, she pleads, “Please”

God I love her

“I won’t baby. I promise. I’ll stay as long as you want me to”, I assure her

She nods, “I want you. So much Kookie”

She makes me so happy

These are all the things I’ve always wanted to hear from her

I wish she was mine

“Kookie, more”

I feel her throbbing on my cock and it feels incredible

“Cum baby.”, I moan, “I want to feel you”

Just like she did with Namjoon, her body listens to me when I ask her to cum

Her pussy grips my cock so tightly, keeping me in, while she cums all over me

“JUNGKOOK! Oh JUNGKOOK!”, she screams, her hands holding me tightly, as she shakes under me

My God it feels fucking fantastic

It’s the most intense pleasure I’ve ever felt so far

“Fuck her through it”, Namjoon orders, “It’ll feel better for her and she might cum again”

I slam myself in her hard, over and over listening to her screams getting louder

“JUNGKOOK oh god!”

She clenches me again, orgasming again

I gasp, holding back from coming

I want to make her cum more, as much as I can

“Go on your knees and hold her legs open my her ankles. You can go deeper that way”, Namjoon instructs

I do what he says and slam hard in her

He’s right, I go in a lot deeper than before

“Yes, fuck yes Jungkook. Don’t stop”, she shouts

I don’t, pounding her fast and hard, feeling her soak my cock

She screams with every slam, pleasure all over her face

Her hips start moving, meeting my thrusts and it feels so goddamn good

“Kookie, fuck, you feel so good baby. God”

“No baby, you feel amazing. I love being in you”, I moan

I slide hard inside, making her snap as she explodes again, screaming, her body arching from the bed, into me

Yes oh god yes

I’m gonna cum

I’m almost there

She falls back on the bed, and I hover over her again, her legs around my hips, arms around my body

Her pussy has a tight grip on my cock and it feels out of this world pushing through

“Cum Kookie. I want to feel you cum”, she whimpers

Fuck fuck

I can’t hold it

“Fuck JOANNE, JOANNE!”, I shout, coming so hard, the release and ecstasy running through my body shuts my mind off and I just feel

“Fuck Joanne, I love you”, I shout, burying my face in her neck as she holds me, “I love you. Fuck Joanne, I love you so much”

After, I breathe hard, calming down, still laying on her

Lifting my head, I look at her

She’s looking at me with wide eyes

Why is she- oh shit

OH SHIT!

I told her I love her.

Oh my god why?

Stupid mouth, stupid brain

“Jungkook”, Namjoon says quietly

I glance at him and he has the same surprised look she has

I look back at her, “I’m sorry”

I move back, off her and stand up

“I’m sorry”, I repeat, not meeting their eyes as I grab my clothes

“Kookie”, she calls softly

“No I uh…I’m really sorry”, I repeat, running to Namjoon’s door and leaving the room.

I run to my room and close the door, locking it

I can’t believe I told her I love her

In front of Namjoon

Oh my god, he knows I love his girlfriend

He’s going to kill me

She’s never going to talk to me again

I fucked up

I fucked up so badly

I ruined my friendship with both of them

I’m so stupid

I’ve been avoiding Namjoon for the last week

I still see him during practices and in the dorm but I either stick to Tae or Jimin or I’m just in my bedroom with the door locked

I can’t face him

And I definitely can’t face her

I haven’t seen her in a week although I know she’s been at the dorm

I hear her talking and laughing with the guys

I just can’t see her

I’m still so in love with her but I can’t have her

And I’m scared she’s going to ignore me or tell me off for loving her

I know I can’t avoid them forever but for now it’s all I can do

--------------------------------

There’s a knock on my door the next morning

I sigh, what now?

“Yeah?”

“Kookie. It’s me”, she calls

Oh god

Fuck

What do I do?

“Can I talk to you?”, she asks

No no no

I don’t want to talk

I know what she’s going to say

That she doesn’t love me, she loves Namjoon, she doesn’t want me

I already know, I can’t hear her say it too

“Please Kookie?”, she asks

Fuck

I can’t say no to her

It’s not fair

I want to tell her no, but I don’t have it in me to do it

I get up from my bed and walk to the door

I take a deep breathe, steeling myself for whatever she’s going to say

I slowly open my door to her beautiful face

And to Namjoon who's behind her

What the fuck?

He’s going to murder me

“Can we come in?”, she asks

“I…uh…yeah”, I relent, moving aside to let them in

I close the door after them then go sit on my bed

Namjoon sits in my computer chair and she sits next to me

God, I just want her in my arms

“Look about last week”, Namjoon starts

“I’m sorry”, I cut him off, “I know you’re pissed off because of what I said-”

“Jungkook let me finish”, he says

I close my mouth and nod

“Do you love Joanne? Was that something you just said in the moment or is it true? Don’t lie”

He’s looking at me and I know he’ll know if I lie

“Yes. I…I’m in love with her”

He nods, “How long?”

“When I first met her”

“That long?”

I nod

They’ve been together for four years

So that’s how long I’ve loved her

“Ok so I’m going to tell you we’re not mad, so don’t worry about that”, he explains

What?

They’re…he’s…not mad I told his girlfriend I love her?

“Joanne and I talked about what happened and what you said.”

“Uh ok”, I answer

Where is he going with this?

“So we decided that if you want to, you can be in our relationship too.”, he says

I blink, unsure I heard what he said

“I…..what?”

“You can be her boyfriend too”, he says

“I….I…”, I trail off

I can wrap my head around this

“Look I’m not saying this is permanent ok? We’ve never done this before and we don’t know if it’s going to work. But we’re open to try it and see how it goes”, he explains

“Uh how would that work?”, I ask

She’d have two boyfriends?

Would he be a higher boyfriend than me because they’ve been together for so long?

Is he going to make all the decisions?

“Uh I’m not sure. All three of us have to communicate well with each other or it won’t work. If you want to be with her or take her out or whatever you have to let me know so I don’t plan anything that day. And I’ll let you know if I’m going to be with her. It’s not just you doing what I say. The only thing is that me and you are just friends. We just love the same girl and are with the same girl. I’m not into guys so I’m letting you know that right now”

“I’m not either”, I reply

“Ok that’s good. The only thing I’m going to say right now is that you treat her good. You don’t yell at her, hurt her or hit her. If you do, you’re dead. She’s the love of my life and I’ll kill you if you mistreat her”, he tells me

Hit her?

I’d never hit her

I don’t hit girls

I would never hurt her

And that’s what I tell him

“I would never hurt her. Ever”, I answer

“Good. I’m trusting you with my baby”

I nod, my mind blown

Again

I never thought this would ever happen

Or that he’d be ok with it

“Whose idea was this?”, I ask

“Mine”, Namjoon answers

“Yours?”, I ask incredulously, “Why?”

Why would he do this?

He shrugs, “Because we let other people in when we have threesomes, so this isn’t a big jump from that. You love her and I know you. And she likes you”

What? I turn to her

“You do?”, I ask shocked

She smiles and nods

I turn back to Namjoon

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“No because I know she loves me”, he answers

“But….”

Should I ask this?

Will it piss him off?

“What?”

“But what if she falls in love with me too? Like she is with you?”

“As long as she loves me, it doesn’t bother me.”, he says

“Really?”

“Really”, he says, “But if she wants out of this and only wants me, then you need to back off. And if you want out, tell us and you can leave. And if it’s not working then sorry but you’re out”

“What if she only wants me?”

He glares at me, “Not gonna happen but on the extreme off chance she does, I’ll back off”

Fuck, I pissed him off

“Don’t worry Joonie.”, she answers, “I’m always going to love you. I’m always going to be with you. For the rest of my life”

“I know baby. I’m always going to love you too”, he smiles at her, “I’m always going to be with you too baby, even when we’re old and wrinkled”

The smiles she beams at him is gorgeous

They really love each other

He looks back at me, “So do you want to do this?”

Do I?

I get to be with her, love her, possibly have her love me

And I’m not against being in their relationship

Just like Namjoon, as long as she wants me, maybe loves me, I don’t care if she loves Namjoon too

“Yes”, I answer, “I want to do this”

He nods, “Ok”

“What about the guys? Are we keeping this a secret?”

“They know. We told them what we were going to talk to you about”, he answers

Uh ok

“They know?”

“Yeah they were weirded out at first but they accept it”, she answers

Uh ok

I guess it’s ok they know

“Ok well I have to go to my studio to work on some songs.”, Namjoon says getting up, “I’ll see you later”

He’s leaving?

He comes to her, leans down and kisses her

“Bye baby. I’ll see you later. I love you”

“Bye Joonie. I love you”, she says

He turns and leaves my room

I have no clue what to do now

“So uh if you’re busy now, I can go. We just wanted to talk to you about this.”, she says standing up, “I uh guess I’ll see you later”

She starts to turn away but I grab her hand

“Stay”, I ask

“Oh uh ok”, she answers

I pull her to me, putting her on my lap and kiss her

God it’s just like the first time

Fireworks going off

She kisses me back, my tongue in her mouth, her hands in my hair

I start kissing her neck all over

“I want you”, I moan

I want her so much

I want to feel her again

I want to make her feel good

She answers me by pulling my shirt off and kissing me starting from my neck down to my shoulder and chest

Her lips leave fire on my skin everywhere they touch

I take her shirt off, then I’m able to get her bra off without being an idiot about it

“God you’re so fucking sexy”, I praise her, taking her nipple in my mouth and sucking

“Fuck Jungkook”, she moans

“Yeah baby fuck. I love hearing you moan my name”

Holding her to me, I turn, laying her on my bed

She reaches up to me, holding onto me tightly

Leaning down, I catch her lips in a kiss again, while I pull her pants and panties down

I get them off and throw them somewhere in my room

Her hands move down my body and get to my sweatpants

She slides her hands under the waist band and pulls both my pants and boxers down

I help her and kick them off

She gets as close to me as possible, her chest against mine, pressing her body against mine

I didn’t realize how much I love just feeling her skin on mine until right now

“Kookie…I…I…”

“What baby? What do you want? I’ll do whatever you want”, I answer

“I need you”, she moans

Fuck, she can have me

Anytime she wants

“Ok baby, you have me whenever you want. I promise”, I answer, putting her leg over my hip

“Please Kookie”, she pleads

“Ok baby”

I slide inside her, going all the way in, my body shivering

She sighs, like I’m supposed to be in her

Like she I’m all she needs

I like that

I move, sliding in and out of her, her pussy getting tighter on me, keeping me inside

“Fuck baby, you like me in you this much?”, I ask, “You want to keep me inside?”

“Yes Kookie. I love you in me. I don’t want you to leave”, she moans

“I won’t baby, I promise. I want to stay”, I whisper

I move harder and faster, making her yell out with each thrust

“Baby, you feels so good, holding me tight. Fuck I love you”, I groan

I don’t care about saying it anymore

She knows and I just want to say it

I feel her getting ready and I never wanted her to cum on me as much as I do right now

“Cum on me baby”, I whisper, kissing her neck

“JUNGKOOK”, she yells, coming and shaking in my arms

“Good girl, fuck, you’re so beautiful baby”, I murmur

She looks up at me and smiles, “Jungkook you are so beautiful you don’t even know”

I have no idea what to think

She thinks I’m beautiful?

Oh my god

She kisses me, gently pushing me back until I’m laying on my back

“My beautiful Kookie”, she whispers kissing me all over my face

“My baby”, she says, trailing kisses down my neck and chest

God her kisses are amazing

I love feeling her lips on my skin

“My Jungkook”

Fuck I love hearing her call me her Jungkook

I am

From the second I saw her, I was hers

She kisses back up my body, whispering in my ear, “I’m going to make my baby feel so good”

I moan loudly

She climbs on top of me, sliding down my cock, my body trembling

Fuck, going inside her is like the first time everytime

My body just reacts to her

She puts her hands on the wall above me and she starts bouncing on me, starting off slow, then going faster and faster

Pleasure blasts through my body

Watching her ride me gets me so much more horny

“God baby, you’re so good at this”, I moan

“Kookie, you have no clue how much I’ve been wanting to ride you”

Fuck me

“What?”, I whisper

“I wanted to last time we we’re together but you ran away”

“I’m sorry baby. I just panicked”

“Shh baby. It’s ok. I can ride you all the time now”

Oh god she can

I just realized, I can be with her when I want, when she wants

“Yeah baby, you can. Whenever you want, you can have me”

“You can have me too baby. Whenever you want”, she answers

God I’m happy

She slides up, squeezes my head so tight then slides back down

“Oh god”, I yell

She keeps herself tight while she slams down on me

The pleasure is so goddamn good

I run my hands up her legs, touching her hips and sliding up her body

Sitting up a little, I plant kisses all over her stomach, sucking and licking her skin

“Mmmmm Kookie”

“Baby girl. Cum. Please. I want it”

“Yeah Kookie”, she moans, sliding up and coming on my head

I watch her cum run down my cock, and I swallow hard

Oh fuck that’s so hot

“God baby, you’re fucking perfect”, I moan

When she finishes, I grip her hips, slamming her down on me

As she comes down I thrust up, going in so deep

“Yes!”, she screams

I thrust up again when I bring her down and I slide into her, making her scream

“There Kookie. Fuck there!”, she pleads

Did I just find her spot?

Oh my god

“Where baby?”, I ask, slamming her again, “There?”

I hope I didn’t lose it

“Yes!”

Good

I love the reaction I’m getting from her, so I keep slamming her there over and over

It doesn’t take long before she orgasms again, getting tight on me

“JUNGKOOK!”, she screams

God I love her orgasms

The pleasure from them is so intense and I want to feel it over and over

Bringing her down again, I slam her spot causing another orgasm right after the first one

Oh my god, yes

I want her to have more

“Again baby”, I moan, thrusting into her, making her explode again

I keep going, every few thrusts causing another orgasm, her screams music to my ears

I lost count of how many I’ve given her

“C'mon baby girl. One more”, I ask

She nods

I slam her the hardest I have so far and she screams, her body shaking violently on top of me

The pleasure is overwhelming as I cum inside her, screaming her name and enjoying the pleasure

“JOANNE, oh god baby!”

“Good Kookie, good boy”, she murmurs

When I finish, she climbs off and lays next to me

I turn to her automatically, pulling her in my arms

It’s the first time I’m holding her and I fucking love it

She turns to me and reaches out, running her fingers in my hair

She’s looking at me, smiling

“I know I’m going to love you Kookie”, she whispers

She will?

Oh god I hope so

“You are?”, I ask

She nods, “I don’t know how long it’ll take but I just know I’m going to fall in love with you too”

“But Namjoon-”

“I love him. In love with him. But I have room to love you too.”

“As long as you love me Jo, I’m more than ok”, I whisper, kissing her

I really don’t care

I just want her and if she loves me, I’m good

I can do this with her and Namjoon.

Because she’s worth it

#bts namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #namjoon smut #bts rm smut #rm smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts jungkook smut #jungkook smut #kim namjoon fanfic #bts namjoon fanfic #namjoon fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #rm fanfic #bts rm fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfic

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familyvideostevie · 6 months ago

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alright, hear me out. i looked through the prompts list and can we give roommate!steve a little airtime beCAUSE—

trying to not hit anything or each other, when there is a power outage and it’s way too dark

�� is SO steve coded. i wanna see this man during a power outage. please and thank you. i love you.

hi baby. here you go. sorry it took so long. it is the first thing i have written in about 6 weeks so apologies for it's roughness. i adore you. thank you for helping me give steve Harrington his triumphant return. | fluff, 1.3k, roommates!au

Summer storms in the Midwest always take you by surprise. The never-ending expanse of blue sky becomes crowded with swirling grey clouds without warning and everything stills, like the very fabric of time is holding its breath. Until the dam bursts and rain pounds on your windows, the roof, the pavement with wild abandon. Deep, rumbling thunder follows bright flashes of lightning.

You find it relaxing. A steady, reliable chaos into which you settle without complaint.

Well, usually. Your roommate, Robin -- a talkative and whip-smart girl who makes you laugh-- enjoys storms just as much as you do. It's one of the only times she settles, so you often read side-by-side in companionable silence. Sometimes, if you're feeling bold, you'll both dance in the rain.

But Robin is on some six-month trip for brilliant people and she's left you with a subletter.

"My best friend Steve," she'd said. "Come on, I talk about him all the time. You basically know him."

It's true. Robin is full of stories and this Steve is in most of them. A funny, brave, well-intentioned guy who is a bit of an idiot and has a great head of hair.

And now he's living in the other bedroom. And he's hot. And he always does his dishes and remembers to put the seat down after you scolded him once for doing otherwise and you have a crush on him.

It's annoying. He's been here for like, three weeks and keeps asking you where the spoons are and you like him.

But Steve? You are learning that Steve does not like summer storms.

In the few you've had since he arrived you've noticed that he paces, or sits in the living room with the television turned up high, or something noisy. You've never asked him about it because honestly, he could be much worse as far as roommates go.

You can hear his radio through the wall and it's making it hard to focus on your book. You should really go to sleep but this chapter is really good and does he have to be so loud? Maybe you should get up and ask him to keep it down --

A flash of lightning makes it seem like daylight in your room for a brief moment and then everything is dark. Everything.

"Fuck," you say. The power must have gone out. A clap of thunder so loud it feels like your building shakes startles you. You hear a shout from the other side of the wall.

It's not as hard as you'd expect to feel your way to your bedroom door in the dark. You manage to do so without injury apart from bumping your hip on your dresser.

But when you open your door you smack into a solid wall of warmth. Your fingers grasp for purchase and find none -- only bare skin.

"Jesus Christ --" Steve says. He manages to prevent you both from falling over and holds you at arm's length in the dark. "What are you doing?" His voice is tight and he squeezes your shoulders once before releasing you.

"Uh," you say. You're certain that he's not wearing a shirt. You can feel that he's not wearing a shirt. "The power went out."

He huffs. "Wow, thank you. I had no idea."

You wish it wasn't dark so you could see his face. Three weeks hasn't been enough time to learn all of his expressions. "Were you sleeping?"

It feels like a dumb question considering how loud his music was.

"Yeah," he says. "Obviously I was sleeping. It's like, 1 am."

"Just go back to sleep. If you can, under the volume of your radio."

You imagine him wincing. "Sorry," he says. "I don't, uh. Sleep well during --"

Lighting illuminates the hall and you see him for one brilliant second, messy hair, bare chest rising and falling, boxers slung low. Boxers with...are those...bananas? Then: darkness, thunder. You sense his flinch.

"That," he says flatly.

A smile creeps its way onto your face and you allow it because he can't see. The fact that this guy, your temporary roommate, your sort-of crush, is afraid of thunderstorms fills your chest with warmth. It's endearing. It's adorable. It makes you like him so much more.

You ease past him and into the dark of the rest of the apartment.

"Woah, woah," Steve says. "Where are you going?" You hear him follow you and immediately run into something. He curses. You keep your hands out to avoid the same fate.

"You okay?" you call back.

"Why do we have so much furniture?" he grumbles. "Fuck, that hurt."

You don't correct him that we actually means you and Robin.

"Watch where you're going," you say lightly.

"Oh, ha, ha."

Careful steps take you closer to your destination. "Go look for candles in the kitchen," you tell him. "They're in the drawer by the trash."

"Uh, okay," Steve says. He bumps into things with quiet curses on his way as you look for the matches that should be in the closet. "Why? You could just go back to bed. I'm fine."

You chew on your lip. He's right. But you want to hang out with him. The dark makes you honest. "The thunder is loud," you say. "I won't be able to sleep. We might as well hang out."

He laughs, the first genuine one all night. "Oh, you want to hang out? In the dark? You know what this sounds like, right?"

Ah, the famous Harrington charm Robin has told you about. It makes your cheeks feel hot and you can't hide a smile. Steve ruins the moment by running into something again.

"Fuck! Jesus --"

"Steve, be careful."

"I can't see anything!"

You sigh and finally find the matches. Box in hand, you carefully make your way to the kitchen, your eyes adjusting just a little and making it easier.

Steve is looking in the wrong drawer. You should just tell him so, but instead you reach for him, fingers circling his wrist and dragging it to the right one. His skin is warm under yours, the back of his hand softer than you'd thought it would be. You open the drawer together and hear the candles roll around inside.

His face is a dark outline but you focus on the dark and think you see his eyes. You wish you could see him.

"Found them," he says. You're much closer than you realized, so close you feel his breath on your cheek. Steve leans in -- or maybe it's you, you have no idea, and your noses brush. He puts a hand on your hip, fingers sliding under the hem of your sleep shirt and burning you like a brand.

Your eyes slide close and you miss the flash but not the boom that follows, sending you both about a foot in the air and away from each other.

"Shit," you gasp. Steve laughs and you join in, giggling in the dark like teenagers.

Maybe this is a one-night thing, the darkness making you both a little lonelier and a little braver. But you've got months more of him and the idea of spending that time being something more than just roommates? It's appealing, to say the least.

You reach for Steve in the dark and he must have been doing the same because your fingers tangle without much effort.

"Come on," you say. "Let's light the candles and sit on the couch. I'm sure the power will come back on eventually."

He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. "Okay," he says, a smile in his voice. "Don't let me run into anything."

You grin at him in the dark and hope that come morning he'll be familiar with it in the light, as well. "Don't worry, Steve," you tell him. "I've got you."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#emmas5kgarden #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harringotn fluff #stranger things fanfic

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khaire-traveler · 17 days ago

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As a devotee of Demeter, I sometimes feel that people only worship Persephone for the aesthetic.

I feel horrible for saying and thinking that but I can't help but feel that way. Certain pagans portray Persephone as some overpowered Mary Sue, downplaying the importance of her mother and sometimes even her husband.

I feel like people really ignore her as a agrarian deity. They claim to love her but feel the need to change everything about her - if you need to change her did you ever like her in the first place?

It honestly just feels like they're talking about a Wattpad main character instead of a religious figure at times it's so jarring to me. Imagine if someone on tiktok described their deity as a dark and daddy figure bad boy with piercings and then its literally just Jesus Christ.

And its not just Persephone, it's the whole pantheon! Some worshippers talk about the deities and their myths like characters and tropes from a telenovela. They are rarely treated like religious figures, they are more than just their myths.

Im sorry i just wanted a place to complain and see if i am not alone

---

Khaire, Nonny,

Honestly, I agree with this sentiment. I've seen this time and time again where Persephone, and many other deities, get "fandomized" which can be problematic for others, even if it's ok in that individual's practice. Sometimes it feels like our religion isn't taken seriously, even by the people who actively practice it, but I also understand that people have different forms of practicing that work better for them. It's frustrating, however, when Persephone is depicted as this Mary Sue characterization of her where she's seen as, like, super edgy, badass, and powerful in a really fandomized way. It comes across as this person using Persephone as an avenue of self-expression rather than worshipping who she actually is as a deity (not to say she's not badass or powerful, to clarify). While it's ok to use a deity as an avenue for self-expression in worship (some trans folk, for example, view Apollon as trans-masc, and it actively plays a role in their worship), it's a lot less ok when you're making this deity into a cartoonish characterization of themselves. The gods present themselves differently to people, but I don't know; I guess I find it far-fetched to believe that Persephone would present herself in this sort of way. I can't speak for her, obviously, but I just disagree with this interpretation of who she is as a deity - putting herself above others, hating her mom, being a rebellious "wild child". I think that, psychologically speaking, some people might just find comfort in this representation of her and see themselves in it which is likely why they gravitate towards it. It's fine to have that experience, but I STRONGLY encourage these people to actually read the myths about Persephone, do the research on how she was worshipped, and actively try to better understand where she actually came from as a deity because this isn't just a character in a show that you relate to; this is a goddess that you're trying to worship, no?

Some people finding more success in their practice with this representation doesn't negate the harm these misconceptions and misinformation can cause. I've met multiple people who believe that Persephone willingly fled to the Underworld to "escape" Demeter (which is untrue), and that is endlessly frustrating to me, especially due to the cultural importance of the Hymn to Demeter (the myth of Persephone being kidnapped). The gods are not their myths, in my experience, but their myths still hold a heavy importance in the way they were worshipped in the past, and the way we worship them in the present. Demonizing an entire deity is the equivalent of trying to cancel a constellation of stars; it's pointless, extremely bizarre, and very "online" behavior.

But yeah, I think some people care more about the "character" than they do the deity, and I will say that confidently. I've met people who "ship" deities with each other, who make their experiences with deities sound - as you said - like a telenovela, and who actively spread harmful misinformation about deities in a way that legitimately disgusts and disturbs me. I've once had someone tell me that a deity [insert reprehensibly immoral act here] them, and to this day, I still cannot believe they said that to me when I was a beginner, just to dissuade me from worshipping that deity. The lengths some people will go to drag a deity is honestly both sad and ridiculous.

I wish some people took the religion more seriously in the sense that they didn't just make random shit up about deities, actively disrespect and disregard the culture the deities stem from, and demonize some deities while bolstering others. It shows a level of immaturity and indifference towards the culture these deities come from. It's not a fandom; it's a way of worship.

---

✨ Bonus round!! ✨

Some ridiculous things I've heard people say that sound like a fandom and/or telenovela (I will put the phrases in "" to express that these are things I've heard, not things I'm saying or believe in):

"Hermes and Aphrodite constantly gossip to each other about the other gods. No one fucks with Hermes because he knows everyone's dirty laundry."

"Ares is starting a revolution on Mount Olympus against Zeus to take the throne." (Yes, I have really heard this)

"Hermes is starting a revolution on Mount Olympus against Zeus to take the throne." (Yes, I have really heard this, too)

"XYZ deity has done [insert reprehensibly immoral and highly traumatic act here] to me."

"I caught XYZ deity cheating on their spouse in the astral realm, and I'm going to tell their spouse."

"The reason the gods haven't been communicating as much lately is because Hades ran away from Mount Olympus (?) and Hekate is going after him. Everyone is panicking a little bit."

"Zeus is such a playboy." (Bruh, do you really have beef with a thousands of years old god who came from an extremely patriarchal society? What, are you trying to cancel him?)

"Poseidon is such a playboy." (Now this take is wild; I don't really understand where it came from at all)

"Apollo is such an UwU 👉👈 shy boy! He's so cute and flustered all the time." (???)

"Persephone has a lot of emotional trauma from Demeter, who was extremely controlling." (No. No for so, so many reasons.)

"Apollo is a himbo."

People say the darnedest things. You really have to wonder what possesses someone to talk about religious figures in such a way, but you know what, if it works for their practice, then good for them. I'm not a big fan of the fandomization of the gods, and I definitely agree with you, Nonny. I won't say these people don't love these deities, but I can understand where you're coming from. It feels like they love the deities in an obsessive fan type of way sometimes, but that's not for me to say, really.

#anon asks #answered asks #helpol

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rustfoxes · 14 days ago

Text

Disjointed DAtVG feelings/opinions

I've played the game for a bit, I'm not too far in yet, and honestly? I hope it gets better. Spoilers & venting below as you might guess.

Everything seems to be tell, don't show. There's very, VERY little trust in the player. Characters happen upon a ruined village? "The village is ruined! There's no one here!" Yes, we can see that. Character looks upset? Text pops up on screen to tell you that IN FACT!! Character is upset. Couldn't have guessed.

Everything is explained out loud immediately, except the arguably actually important things. If I remember correctly, there's no mention of the 10 year (?) timeskip from DAI, everyone just now knows everything about elven magic and the Fade and the Veil EXCEPT FOR THE PLAYER. None of that is explained! New players are expected to just know, which in some games works, but when you throw characters into a magical forest and say it's Arlathan forest, how tf are they supposed to know what Arlathan is.

Why is Varric a brunette all of a sudden

Characterisation of returning characters is fucking wild. Fun, jokey Harding? Massive chip on her shoulder and real aggressive for some reason. Soft-spoken and measured Solas? Yelling, again, for some damn reason. Where is his iambic pentameter? And he hates blood magic all of a sudden?? Did the writers play the earlier games at all? Solas SPECIFICALLY says in DAI that blood magic has no morality to it and is merely a tool.

The game is linear to the extent that I cannot for the life of me see the point of the game asking you to wrap up unfinished business before moving forward. What unfinished business? You've locked us into a small room with 0 exits and 1 chest. There is no business.

So far there's been zero time for any of the story to breathe. There are no story beats, because the drum machine that is the pacing just keeps hammering on. The gravity of the situation has no time to set in for anyone. THE ACTUAL GODS OF MYTH HAVE BEEN BUST OUT OF GOD-JAIL. THIS IS A HUGE FUCKING PROBLEM. "Yeah, well, people would've died if Solas hadn't been stopped from tearing down the Veil." And this is preferable???? What the actual fuck. DAI Solas wanted to rebuild and to safe-guard his people. TWO of the people he wanted to PROTECT EVERYONE FROM are now out. But oh man, that Solas, he would've hurt folks. You think the wondertwins won't? Jesus fucking Christ.

The gameplay more or less just completely scraps character classes. Playing a mage rn and for some damn reason she has separate ranged attacks. What the actual fuck. What is the point of making people choose a class if a damn mage has to stand next to enemies to attack?

So far doesn't feel like an RPG at all. Starts in media res which is fine, but your character is already established as a cool hero and an important figure. Why? Why weren't we along for that ride?

Character movement is janky af, DAI was much smoother 10 damn years ago. Hopefully they'll somehow manage to fix it.

Either they needed better actors or a much better voice director, because holy shit is the dialogue awkward and halting and just... no.

Writers have clearly had shoes far too large to fill. Dialogue wants to be funny and witty and clever. It is not. Specially not with the phoned in voice acting.

Where have my Welsh/Irish elves gone? Wtf happened there? Also why wasn't there anyone around to tell the actors how to pronounce the elvhen words??

Why the fuck is the rogue our healer.

All quests so far have been walking from A to B, collecting some coins along the path, and then fighting 5 or 10 enemies. No variation at all.

Idk man, I really hope the game will find its legs as it goes on, but so far? Massively underwhelming and honestly quite disappointing. Absolutely does not feel like DA. People critisised DA2 for being rushed and DAI for a whole host of shit, but at least I felt like I was playing a Dragon Age game.

#dragon age #veilguard spoilers #venting a bit #don't mind me

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heygerald · 4 months ago

Text

Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 9

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. When Parker joins Colt on set, things between the siblings gets argumentative. How hard will she try to convince everyone of something only she seems to see?

Read the story here: prev / next

Parker was dying.

Well, no, not really, but she was pretty sure that dying on the inside was the same kind of misery as dying on the outside—something Colt would wholeheartedly disagree with, but, whatever, he wasn't around to dispute such a wild claim—and as she failed at yet another attempt, she quite literally could feel her sanity evaporating like water on a hot summer day. It was ridiculous that the instructions were only five steps; even more ridiculous that there were high school art students who could do this with their eyes closed while gabbing about what the prettiest Met Gala dress of the year was and contemplating what the next Suzanne Collins' book would be.

"I think she should write more prequel books," said high school art student was blabbering on from the other side of the shelf, and while Parker's eyes went crossed and frustration welled like a heavy weight on her chest, Melissa didn't seem to notice as her train of thought continued on a cross-continental journey. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I will always love Katniss and Peeta's story, and hearing about their kids would be interesting, but there are seventy some years of Games that we haven't even heard about yet. That's so much material for her to write about!"

Parker glanced at the mess lying at her feet; tape and paint and abused shelf liner was sprawled around her as if a bomb had just gone off, and while Melissa continued on her fifth monologue of the hour, Parker almost wished one would.

"—did you see it? It was so good. Tom Blythe has to be my new celebrity crush. Right behind Tom Ryder, of course, but above Tyler Poser. Nothing against him personally, he just hasn't really done anything since Teen Wolf, you know? And—"

She was pretty sure black spots were dotting her vision, and when she attempted for a sixth time to smooth the bubbles out of her liner, Parker swore her head was going to implode.

How did one talk so much?

And more importantly—

"Jesus Christ!" she cried above the din of chatter. Melissa's voice cut off at the exclamation, but as she crossed one arm over the other—ruler clattering to the ground in frustration—the radio continued to play a steady stream of Taylor Swift and Katy Perry. "I'm so confused!"

A steady silence came from the adjacent aisle for half a moment.

"You... don't get the Hunger Games prequel? I thought you read it."

"Oh my fu—" she started, before cutting herself off. Melissa had gotten on her last week about having such foul language, and while Parker really didn't care about being a bad influence on the next generation, she did care about the stupid little jar sitting on the front counter that had collected half of her weekly coffee allowance in just three days. Pinching her nose, she swerved, "fudge, I don't get how you're doing this. I really don't."

"Doing—?"

"Not Suzzanne Collins," she snapped before Melissa could even go down that particular road. Honestly, the girl never stopped talking. "I understand that. I read those books before you were even born, kid."

"Okay, I'm not that young, and you're not old enough to be calling me kid," her voice floated above the shelves; judgmental and scornful all in one.

Parker pinched the bridge of her nose, only for some wayward tape to get stuck to her cheek, and as she ripped it off her skin with a groan, she considered sinking onto the cold floor for a nap.

Said floor was a mess of art supplies, however, and so she elected to tap her foot in an impatient staccato on the ground. Knowing there was only one thing left to do, Parker swallowed whatever pride still existed after this little art project. "...I don't understand how to put on the shelf liners," she admitted. "It doesn't make any sense, and I'm wasting material, and I'm—I'm going to set this place on fire if I have to keep doing this!"

A tut followed by Birkenstocks on hard wood before Melissa was popping around her side of the shelves. She looked too cute to be doing something misery-inducing like this—bubble braids over each shoulder, mascara and glittery white eyeshadow to balance out the glow of highlighter on her cheeks and nose, lips a soft bubblegum pink to compliment the pale color of her sweater—and Parker added it to the list of things that her employee did to annoy the shit out of her.

Teenagers were supposed to be pimply and awkward; when did the next generation start skipping that phase to jump right into cute outfits like that?

"What are you—?" she started, only to zero in on the absolute disaster that was Parker's attempts at interior design. The shelf liner was warbled and misshapen, cut too short on one side and too long on the other, and at her feet half a yard of wasted material lay sprawled. "Parker! Do you have any idea how expensive this stuff is?"

Parker blinked at her. "Do I—? Of course I do! I was the one that bought it in the first place!" she snarked incredulously.

"Then why are you wasting it?"

"Well—because—I'm not doing it on purpose!" she blustered.

Melissa clearly didn't seem to believe that if her raised brow was anything to go by. As if Parker had woken up that morning with the single goal in mind of making this process as difficult and expensive as possible.

Yeah, right.

Parker hadn't been stealing eggs and bread from her brother's when she visited just for the thrill of the grift.

"The instructions don't make any sense," she continued to defend herself; though, the fact that she needed to in the first place was ridiculous. It was her shop, afterall, and she was the owner. Oh, right. She was the owner. "I knew we shouldn't have done this. The paint and decorations look good enough. Why, oh why, did I let you talk me into doing shelf liners too? You know the books are just going to cover the pattern, right? No one will see them."

That seemed to upset Melissa, and in response, the teenager's entire face contorted into something righteous.

"Firstly," she said, flinging up a electric blue nail, "everyone will see them. The books are only so big, so the liner is still visible even when the shelf is full, and when people take books off the shelf it adds character to the store. And secondly," she continued, ticking another finger up into the air, "I've already finished three whole shelves in the time it's taken you to do half of one. Improperly, too. It's not impossible. You're just bad at it."

"Ugh!" Parker's mouth fell open. "Excuse me. I'm not bad at it."

"Could'a fooled me."

"You know," she snarked while planting her hands firmly onto her hips. Melissa didn't seem intimidated one bit, and she watched as the teenager gently pulled up her crumpled liner. "You're lucky I'm your boss because someone else might fire you for sass like that."

Melissa shot her a blithe look while dropping the ruined liner to the ground. Within seconds, she cut a new piece—perfectly sized—and calmly started lying it down. "Okay, sure, Park. Whatever you say."

"I could!"

"Uh-huh," the girl said again, clearly not buying into the power play for a second. Parker might have taken more offense to that if, well, Melissa wasn't right. She never had an employee before, but Parker didn't handle workplace confrontations well, and she couldn't imagine ever firing anyone. Let alone her best customer.

Still. She could at least pretend to be intimidated.

Before Parker could argue that point, Melissa stepped back from the shelf with a flourish to reveal a perfectly placed, smooth and colorful liner.

"Son of a..." Parker muttered at how easy she had made it look. Not to mention the fact that it did look really good. She could already picture how much character it would add once the shelves were re-stocked with their books. "How did you—?"

"It's honestly so easy. Like, I'm embarrassed for you."

And—yeah.

Parker was definitely dying.

"I liked you better when you only came in once a week," she announced, dropping the wasted paper into the trash bag. "You were a lot nicer then, at least. And you already gave me money instead of costing me heaps of it."

Unbothered, the teen popped her bubblegum with a shrug. "You were a lot cooler then, too."

"What—?" she cried, tracking around the shelf in Melissa's wake. The teenager seemed pretty pleased with herself, and as she giggled into her hand, Parker propped her shoulder against the wall with a glower. "Oh. Hardy-har-har. Hilarious. Let's all pick on Parker; that seems like a fun way to spend the day. How about this? You can finish this little project yourself since it was your idea in the first place."

That managed to wipe the smirk off of her face, and Melissa responded by stomping her foot. "This place is huge! There's no way I can finish this on my own."

"Please," Parker rolled her eyes, not buying that for a moment. "You've done six times as much as me in an hour, and better too. It's like you said—I suck at this."

"I didn't say you suck."

"Bad, suck, they're all the same insult. Are you regretting the sass now?"

Melissa scowled. "Fine. But I want to re-negotiate my salary."

That wiped whatever smug look Parker was wearing off her face in seconds, and as if this was a game of tug-o-war, the smugness transferred back to Melissa in the following seconds. So smug, in fact, that she started humming to herself as she set to work on the next line of shelves.

Shaking her head, Parker couldn't do anything but laugh. "Fat chance of that! You're already robbing me blind with the stupid swear jar. Besides, this whole thing was your idea; you wanted the job, and now you got the job. You don't get to re-negotiate your hourly pay when you've barely been here a month. That's not how employee contracts work."

"America as a late stage capitalistic society is failing and is not what you should be basing a business model on, but if that's how you want to play it, fine. This is a supply and demand market. There's nothing to say I can't negotiate my salary when my needs as an employee go up. Your demand has changed, ergo my supply for you has changed," she chirped, and not for the first time, Parker was wondering when teenagers became so socially aware. When she was Melissa's age, she babysat for five bucks an hour, and most of that was just spent making sure the kids didn't swallow their Gumby doll. Needs of an employee her ass. "Besides, we agreed on that salary when I thought I would have help doing the manual labor."

"You're awfully smart for someone that didn't read the fine print."

Melissa paused in her work to cross one arm over the other. And—fuck—how was she being intimidated by someone wearing a best friends forever necklace?

Saved by the tinkle of the front door bell, Parker broke off their stare down to give the girl a flippant gesture that would definitely not hold up in court as any sort of agreement, before moving towards the front. She didn't even care that they were closed, a customer was more than welcome at the moment. Even a neighborhood cat would do.

Melissa trailed after.

"All I'm saying is—" she started.

"Ah, ah, ah. No money talk in front of customers. It's totally kitsch," Parker chirped over her shoulder.

"It's Sunday. We shouldn't even have customers. Can't we just tell them to leave?"

"And they say good customer service is dead," said customer drawled from the front counter as he pilfered through her bowl of mints. Several clattered to the floor as he tried to dig out his favorite flavor, and with a wince, Parker watched him not-so-subtly nudged them under the counter with his shoe as if it hadn't happened at all. "Er, those were already down there when I got here."

"Ass," she rolled her eyes, bending over to scoop the mints up before mice decided to add themselves onto the list of things she had to deal with. She was already stuck between two pestering leeches, a third infestation was not ideal.

Before Melissa could complain, Parker stuck a dollar into the swear jar.

"Whatever. Tom, we were just—" Melissa pushed past Parker with an exuberance that had been lacking moments before. It deflated the moment she got a better look at him, however, and the girl's grin slipped into a sour frown. She crossed one arm over the other to peer suspiciously at the blonde. "Wait, you're not Tom."

Colt experienced a variety of emotions in a single second, and Parker couldn't help but laugh when he let out an offended squeak.

"What—how does she know Tom?" he hissed.

Parker dumped the fallen mints back into the bowl with a shrug. "He's stopped by before. She's a huge fan. Number one, apparently. She's seen all his stuff."

"Twice," Melissa added.

Parker pointed at her. "Twice," she reiterated, just knowing that it would piss Colt off.

Just as expected, he responded by rolling his eyes with a second, high-pitched groan. It sounded like he was in pain. "You're a fan of Ryder? Seriously?"

Melissa squared her shoulders at him. "Seriously."

"You do know that he wears a wig, right?"

She huffed. "No, he doesn't."

"Uh, yes he does."

"Does not."

"Does too."

"Does—"

"Okay, that's enough of that," Parker interjected with a groan of her own. What had started off as an amusing blow to her brother's ego was quickly turning into a headache. "Melissa, don't bully him. He has a sensitive ego."

Colt threw his arms up—bowl of mints scattering everywhere—to cry, "Parker! That's not—I don't—who even is this?"

"Who am I? I work here. Who are you?" she shot back, bright eyes narrowed into slits. Parker could imagine her in high-school now, scaring off boys left and right, and if her brother didn't have the mental maturity of a middle schooler, she might have let them argue a little bit longer.

Alas. Colt's weakness was women, and she didn't fancy giving him chest compressions when he inevitably choked on his pride.

"Melissa," she gestured, "this is my brother, Colt. He's a professional stuntman, and has been Tom Ryder's stuntdouble for years. That how I met him in the first place. Colt, this is my new employee, who also happens to be a teenage girl, Melissa."

In unison, the pair gave cagey hmphs.

"Nice to meet you or whatever," Colt sniffed.

"Yeah," she responded with a blithe look. "Totally."

Parker glanced between the pair; both had matching postures, arms crossed, arms averted, neither wanting to acknowledge the other, and she pinched the bridge of her nose with a heavy sigh. Although, to be fair, only one of the two was an actual adult. Despite how Melissa might carry herself from time to time.

Remembering this, she steered the conversation back to more important things. "If I step out for lunch with Colt, do you think you can finish the shelf liners? You can invite one or two friends to hang out. If they help, I suppose I can pay them too."

Pettiness forgotten, Melissa gave Parker a wide-eyed look. "Really?"

"Flat rate. Fifty for the day, a max of two friends. Just no posting on instagram or snapchat or—you know—anything else. I don't need social media being my downfall before I even get started."

"Oh my god, you're so old, Parker. Who would even want to cancel you?" Melissa laughed over her shoulder before disappearing towards the back. Her cell phone was already dialing, and by the time she started pasting on liners, her friends were already on their way.

With that taken care of, Parker blinked over at her brother.

"Yes."

Colt, having replaced whatever book he was pretending to read, furrowed his brows at her. "Yes, what?"

"Whatever you're going to suggest we do, yes, please take me away from here before I commit a craft-themed crime."

"Is that a crime?"

"A violent one."

He clicked his tongue, tossing another mint into his mouth with a curious side-eye across the counter. "Maybe I just wanted to stop in and see how things were looking. You were talking about it at the party so much I figured I'd have to see it eventually."

That was a lame excuse and they both knew it. Colt may have been her biggest cheerleader, but her brother didn't know the difference between paint and lacquer. Not to mention that he was red-green colorblind, and would certainly have a hard time noticing any change in paint around them.

"Coooolllltttttt," she whined.

He quirked his brow at her. "Seriously?"

"Please?" she asked, slumping across the counter. When that didn't work she attempted to flutter her eyelashes at him. That only provoked an eyeroll from him, and she deflated with a moan. "I'll ber lurnch," she muttered into her sweater sleeves.

He lifted a finger to his ear, patronizing and provoking all in a single sweeping gesture. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't get that. What did you say?"

Atop her arms, she glared before slowly reiterating, "I'll buy lunch."

That he understood.

The bastard.

"Well, why didn't you just say so?" he cooed, and when he attempted to pat her atop the head, Parker swatted him away with a glare. She was already reconsidering going anywhere with him, but a single glance towards what was awaiting her in the back of the shop had her sitting up straight. "I have to go to set today for some wardrobe fittings and thought you'd want to come with. Might as well see how the magic is made. We're gonna be late if you keep moping, though."

"We wouldn't have been late if you didn't get all mouthy with Melissa," she snarked while gathering her things. Feeling a bit guilty about leaving the kid to finish the work, she dug a twenty out of her wallet. "I'll be back later! There's money on the counter to get lunch for you girls!"

She got no response—as a mom rarely did with a teenager—and it took Colt tugging her by the elbow to get Parker to step outside. His truck was parked right in front of a fire hydrant.

She raised a brow at him, utterly unimpressed.

"What?" he asked when he caught the look she was shooting him. And, as if it wasn't a low-stakes crime that he was committing, Colt just grinned. "Relax, grumpy-pants. It's a Sunday. Fire hydrants don't count on Sundays. Now get in before we really are late."

There was a lot to say to that, but Parker didn't bother wasting the energy, and with an easy-going grin of her own, she clambered inside.

---

An hour later and Parker finds herself propped on an overflowing table filled with sewing needles, accessories, pens, papers, and a binder flush with polaroid photos of her brother from every angle. The film's wardrobe department, despite his warnings in the car, was more than thrilled that Colt had brought along his sister, and while he was poked and prodded, shifted left and right on a pedestal for everyone to critique, Parker had been set up with an iced coffee, some freshly made baklava, and front row seats to the most amusing thing she had seen in weeks.

"I think the crotch is too tight," Betty said, tugging on the material with long, sharp fingernails that Colt eyed like they were a sleeping snake. "See how it's bunching, we need to let it out, or maybe—see this? We could try—"

"No, no, no, it doesn't need to be let out," Sasha, a blonde woman with oversized cat-eye glasses tutted. "It's supposed to be tight. Remember?"

"It'll rip."

"It'll be fine."

"I suppose for standing, but I think he'll be wearing them for a running sequence—"

The ladies bickered back and forth, hands clawing too close for comfort at her brother's privates, and every so often he would wince when they tugged a little too hard. Parker, watching all of it, giggled every time it happened.

"How come I've never been brought along to fittings before?" she mused, a Cheshire-like grin in place. He had been standing up there for the lasty forty minutes, and every time she took a sip of her drink, Colt would look a little more green in envy at their difference in treatment. "This is fun."

"Fun," he said, mocking her with an eyeroll. "You come up here and try this."

"I happen to think I would look amazing in those pants. I have the ass for them, anyway," she chirped, and Sasha took a break from her bickering just to laugh at the idea. Beaming, Parker added, "I didn't realize that wardrobe fittings for the stunt double would be so... invasive."

"Yeah, well, usually the pants aren't so tight. That's all thanks to Ryder."

"I bet they look good on Tom," she said, half teasing, half meaning it. Anything looked good on Tom as time had proven again and again; from covered in sweat, puking in a toilet to wearing Gucci brand glasses, she had yet to see the guy look bad. Speaking of, "shouldn't he be here too?"

Colt, adjusting the tight collar of his leather jacket, shot her a look. "He's probably staring at himself in a mirror somewhere. That's how they trap raccoons, you know. They get so distracted by their own reflection that they forget to run off before the coon dogs get them."

"That's not a thing."

"Sure it is," he said, twisting on the pedestal as the ladies started to adjust the inseam of the pants. He eyed their gleaming needles nervously as they continued on their warpath across the fabric. "You should watch Animal Planet sometime. They did a whole episode on it."

"On how to catch raccoons?" Parker reiterated, absolutely not believing her brother for a second.

"It was a special."

"Maybe a Looney Tunes' special," she deadpanned with an eyeroll. Colt's mouth propped open in argument, only to freeze up when two pairs of hands started plucking the fabric across his butt, and she watched his face flush red. "Seriously? You're such a child!"

Being called out, Colt scowled at his sister. "Am not."

"Are too."

"Am—you know what?" he caught himself before he could go on his second preschool tirade of the day. Parker sipped her drink with an impish gleam in her eyes. "Whatever. You're supposed to be amusing me, not stirring up shit. Tell me something interesting."

"Sure, Caesar," she rolled her eyes. "What would your highness like to be amused by?

"I don't know! Anything. Like—what were you and Melissa doing today at the shop that had you running scared?"

She blew a raspberry, spinning slightly on the table to snatch up an oversized top hat. She didn't have a clue what sort of movie it would be acceptable for—definitely not a sci-fi one—but she traced the stitching with a bored eye anyways. "Shelf liners. They're way harder than they look, and she can get mean when she wants to be. I swear she acts like she's the boss sometimes."

"Ooooh," he teased. "Scared of a teenager?"

"You should see her first thing in the morning. She must wake up at five am to do her beauty routine, and anyone with that sort of willpower should be feared. I think I'll have to move when she finally saves up for her car. God knows the roadways won't be safe."

"Just because you can't wake up before noon without a liter of coffee doesn't mean everyone else can't. Some people are naturally early risers."

"Says the guy that slept for nineteen hours straight once."

Colt shot her a cross look. "I had a concussion."

"All the morning reason not to sleep that long. Isn't rule number one of head injuries that you're supposed to wake up every so often for a health check?" she asked.

Her brother popped his mouth open to argue, finger poised, before he slowly let it drift down to his side. His silence spoke volumes, however, and she raised her brows at him with a smug smile.

"Oh, like you're so perfect," he huffed irritably.

To which she beamed, plopping the top hat onto her head with a flourish. "Maybe I am. Ever thought about that? I'm pretty, popular with famous people, and am the reigning champion at beerball five years running."

"You cheat at beerball," he snarked before the rest of what she said caught up to him. With a gesture, Colt flexed on the pedestal, adding, "and you're not the only hot Seavers. Look at me? See how these pants are hugging my curves? You wish."

Parker laughed at that, couldn't help it if she tried. Her brother was so ridiculous that at times the way he spewed word vomit surprised even her. Not to mention the fact that he was her brother, best friend on too many planes to count; it was hard not to be in a good mood when hanging with him. Even if she was watching him get pampered like a princess before an upcoming ball.

Speaking of, "so, you don't think Tom will be around?"

Something bewildered cracked across his features at the same time that Sasha and Betty told him to step down from the pedestal. The ladies took their notes to the table, adjusting this and that, while Colt stepped behind a privacy screen. She could hear him grunting as he tried to maneuver out of the pinned clothes without sticking himself.

"Do we need to talk about this?" his voice echoed.

"About what?"

"You. Tom. Whatever weird relationship the two of you have going on," he continued, before yelping when he did stick himself on a pin. Sasha rushed behind the screen to help him get out of the pants, and when she returned, she had the garments in hand. "It's sickening to even think about."

"How is us being friends sickening?" Parker echoed.

"Because—you—he—the guy is an ass!"

"He's not an ass," she argued back, surprising herself at how quickly she came to his defense and how little she actually cared. There were few things her and Colt disagreed on; siblings that knew each other as well as they did often had minor squabbles, but nothing ever world-changing or big. Yet, it didn't feel right to let him say those sorts of things. She could consider why later. "He's just... misunderstood."

"Misunderstood?" his voice pitched behind the screen, before he was stepping out in a totally new suit. It was black and yellow, leather, emboldened with the NASA logo, and for a moment she forgot entirely what they were talking about to ogle it appreciatively.

"Ooh, nice job ladies, I like that one."

Colt paused, glancing down at himself. "It is nice," he said in surprise, twisting and turning in the mirror. As he smoothed the material down, he added, "comfortable too. Is this worn much in the film?"

Betty checked her notes. "Looks like he wears it in a few scenes. Oh, looks like you should be wearing it for a harness drop, so make sure you tell us if it's too tight anywhere," she said as the women headed back over to him with their tape measures and pins. "Good?"

He stretched up and down, left and right, before gesturing to the armpit seams. "Probably could be loosened a bit."

She nodded, and the ladies got to work on that, as Colt returned his attention to his sister. Clearing his throat, he continued their earlier disagreement. "I can't believe you of all people think he's misunderstood."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Uh, hello? Remember the whole coffee thing?"

"I think I understood him perfectly well then," she argued, top hat shifting on her head as she gestured. It was surprisingly heavy, and Parker fixed its lean half-heartedly. "He was an asshole during that encounter, and several encounters since then."

"Then what's with the whole PR parade?"

"I just think he's, I don't know... not always like that."

Colt stared at her; blinking, wide-eyed, with wheels spinning slowly between his ears. She swore she could smell the smoke from there, and Parker prepared herself for whatever ridiculous conclusion he was going to come once the spinning stopped.

"You didn't drink any kool-aid recently did you?"

And, yup. She saw that one coming from a mile away.

"Jesus Christ, Colt," she rolled her eyes, huffing. "When are you going to stop with that Jonestown shit?"

"It was a big deal! More people should be talking about it."

"Yeah, like, three decades ago. No one is trying to copy it with kool-aid. That would be a little bit of an obvious tactic, don't you think? I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I'm not in a cult!"

He held his hands up to placate her, before dropping them back down at Sasha's disgruntled tsk-ing. Parker supposed the ladies would be amused by their conversation if they weren't so intently focused on their work. That or they would be seriously concerned for the siblings' mental welfare.

"I'm just checking. Cult leaders are hard to spot you know. That's their whole gimmick. They look normal, just like you and me, and then next thing you know—wham! Indoctrination. Cult. Weird clothes and bad bathing habits and no teeth. It's a slide, not stepping stones, Park. Tom Cruise fell for it in the eighties and hasn't gotten out since"

"Yeah, well, I don't have any sort of money to give a potential cult leader so I don't really think I'm a good target in the first place. Plus, Tom Cruise seems to be doing just fine with the whole Scientology thing," she replied drolly. He didn't have an argument to that, and she shook the melting ice in her cup half-heartedly. "All I'm saying is he's under a lot of pressure from a lot of people. Isn't it possible that he overreacts sometimes?"

He didn't look pleased with her line of questioning one bit, shaking his head at her like a disappointed parent. "I don't think you should be friends."

"What?"

"I don't like it. I don't like it at all."

"Now who's drinking the kool-aid?"

"I'm just saying! It's weird," he continued, gesturing to her a second time only for Betty to snatch his arm and tug it back down with a glare. Colt didn't seem to notice, however, as he barreled on in the way that idiots often did. "First, it's the bookstore. Normal, no biggie. Then, it's the little giggling and laughter. Odd, but whatever. But then, all of the sudden, he has an invite to my exclusive birthday party—"

She threw her head back with a groan, top hat tumbling to the table. "I already apologized for that!"

"—and next thing you know, our Friday night is being highjacked by some ritzy party in upper LA where I have to wear my nice shoes and act like an adult. I'm telling you—rockslides only take a pebble."

"Are you saying you didn't have fun?" she asked with a pointed look, to which her brother hedged and hawed instead of answering. Like a guilty dog that knew it was in trouble, he avoided eye contact. Replacing the top hat onto her head, she waved her hands around. "See? So what's the problem? You got along then, too, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then isn't it possible you misjudged him too?"

"I've known him a lot longer than you."

"But you've never actually spent time with him outside of work."

"For good reason."

"Really? Because you always seem to get along when I'm around," she continued, not ready to let the point go if only because she needed it to stick. "So, how good can the reason be? Maybe he's grown up since you first met him, and you just don't want to accept that."

It was a solid argument, they both knew that.

But Colt was as stubborn as she was. He sniffed. "Well, I still don't like it. Is something going on between you two?"

"Like what?" she asked, despite knowing exactly what was going on between the two of them.

They had kissed. Once. Twice. Three times. Then a few more times until she couldn't really remember what was happening. All she knew was one moment they were kissing and the next moment she was riding home with Colt and Jody, bewildered, breathless, and giddy.

"I have no clue what you're on about," she said despite knowing exactly what he was on about, deciding that gaslighting her brother might be the best option at the moment. "We're just friends."

"Well, obviously," he scoffed, as if anything else was beyond the scope of his imagination.

Which—fair.

She couldn't exactly begrudge him for thinking that there was no chance in hell Parker could kiss someone like Tom Ryder. She could barely believe it, and she was the one that had done it. Still, she scowled at him, contemplating it she wanted to drop the subject entirely or tell him in explicit detail all the reasons he was an idiot, but before she could, the fitting room door opened, and in he walked.

He looked good.

He always looked good.

But today he looked especially good with his dewy skin and jean jacket. Or, maybe, Parker was just looking at him in a new light, and when his gaze landed on her, she couldn't help but grin at him.

"Hey, Tom," she said with a little too much enthusiasm. If he thought it was odd, however, he didn't comment on it. Just ran his gaze over her.

"Nice hat. I'm glad you're finally taking my advice and trying to improve your style, but this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"The—? Oh!" Parker snatched the top hat off her head with a blush, and in face of her karma, Colt snorted with pleased laughter. Ass. She shot him a side-eye before chirping, "it's Colt's, actually. I told him it looked ridiculous, but the prom is coming up, and Jody is just so exited. You should see his cummerbund. Straight out of the eighteen hundreds."

That effectively wiped the smirk off his face, and Colt started to argue just as Betty ushered him towards the privacy screen for another fitting.

Pleased, she blinked back at Tom.

"What are you doing here?"

"Colt dragged me along for his fittings. Something about being scared of the fashion department team," she joked in a half-whisper, gesturing to where he was hidden behind the privacy screen knowing that he wouldn't be able to hear her. "What are you doing here?"

"I just finished my fittings."

She perked. "Oh, you're done, then?"

He nodded just as Colt re-appeared from behind the screen. The flight suit had been replaced with a suave looking tuxedo that seemed to fit wrong in every place it could, and without knowing fashion at all, Parker had a feeling it would be a while before they finished pinning this particular look. Feeling both rebellious and like a high-schooler with a crush, she cast her brother a look. He immediately caught it, and returned one of his own.

Don't you dare, he said.

She lifted a brow testily. Oh, I dare, the look said.

And just like that, Parker faced Tom and asked, "you want to get lunch?"

"With you two?"

"I don't think Colt will be finished for awhile," she said, mock sincerity in her voice. Her brother heard it, face blustered and annoyed, as she batted her lashes across the room at him. "We could always bring him back something."

"But—!" Colt cried, gesturing at them so hard that he almost whacked Sasha in the head. He didn't even notice in his rush to argue, and it took both seamstresses to position him on the pedestal where they wanted him. "We were gonna get lunch!"

"Well, you're not done, and I'm starving."

"I—I could be done. Right?" he asked, turning his own version of puppy dog eyes towards Sasha and Betty. Unlike Jody and their mom, however, it seemed that they were immune to his charms, and together, they tutted at him. "...but—but!"

"This one needs a lot of work on it," Sasha said, as Betty patted him on the back. "And there's still four more looks to get through before we move you to hair and makeup for mock-ups."

"But—!"

"Don't worry Colt," she cooed at him with a victorious grin, and she would have felt bad for abandoning him if he hadn't been so adamant about his opinion on who she could be friends with. Plus, he accused her of being in a cult four times a year; this was his penance. "We'll bring you back something."

"Do I even want to know what that was about?" Tom asked her once they were in the safety of the hallway.

Parker gave an impish look. "Just Colt being Colt. He gets mopey when he's hungry. Is Mexican okay? I really am starving."

His amusement turned scathing. "Mexican? That's all carbs. No fucking way, I just had my fitting done this morning, and I'm not going to have my pants let out."

She rolled her eyes. "Carbs are good for you," she tutted.

"Not that many."

"Rock, paper, scissors?"

Tom blinked at her—as if he couldn't believe she would suggest such a childish solution—and started off down the hallway without another word.

"Well—we can do two out of three!" she cried in his wake, and it wasn't until he disappeared around the corner did she realize that he might actually leave her to deal with Colt alone. Yelping, she rushed after him. "Okay, okay! Fine! Sushi?"

---

"I can't believe you actually eat this stuff," Parker whined twenty minutes later, a salad with more vegetables than she could name, quinoa, and some sort of vinaigrette dousing the top set out in front of her. The lettuce is limp when she lifts it with a fork, and she can't even pretend to find it appetizing as Tom munches through his. "Like, seriously? I'm not about to be Punk'D?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "You have to be famous to be Punk'D."

"I'm with you, aren't I?" she sassed, prodding the food like a toddler not allowed to leave the table before finishing their peas. She wrinkled her nose at the idea. "I get that salad is healthy or whatever, but don't you ever eat anything that tastes good?"

"This does taste good."

She shot him a look of disbelief to which he shrugged.

"I mean, kind of good," he corrected after a moment.

"It's disgusting. Why is it both limp and hard? You know an entire ethnic community eats all the carbs associated with Mexican food and they're thriving. Have you ever seen a Cinco de Mayo party? Unreal how much fun they're having."

"That's because they're drunk on tequila."

"Well, sure," she hedged, head tipping left and right as she tried to ignore the weird smell coming from the bowl in front of her. "But you gotta live a little, right?"

"I don't want to live a little," he corrected her, spitting out the word like it was distasteful. But he had that same sort of tone that he used when he was repeating something he heard a thousand times, but didn't necessarily believe. "I want to live to be a hundred, and I want to look good while doing that."

"Colt eats Mexican food," she argued.

"Colt isn't the face of a multi-million dollar movie franchise."

"No, just the body."

"Maybe you should have just gone out to lunch with Colt, then," he said, both look and tone cross.

And suddenly Parker felt like she had ceremoniously swallowed her foot in front of him. It hadn't occurred to her that he might have a touchy relationship with food, and guilt settled on her shoulders like a weight. She felt pretty stupid for not seeing that—just like she had told Colt, the amount of pressure he was under at all times was not something either sibling would be able to comprehend—and five minutes into lunch she had already made an ass of herself.

"Sorry," she said, stuffing limp lettuce into her mouth as if to prove that she agreed with him. It tasted gross, though, and Tom definitely didn't miss the way she had to choke it down. "Mhmm, it's so... salad-y."

Whether it was her tone or the look she made while saying it, something about the act worked, and when he shook his head she caught the edges of a smile peeking across his face.

Feeling better, Parker aimed for more neutral territory.

"So, your party was fun," she said, before immediately realizing that was clearly not a neutral territory if the way he paused in his chewing was anything to go by. The last thing she wanted was to come across as some sort of lovesick teenager, and she nearly choked on her tongue to add, "I just mean—Colt and Jody really liked it. She got to network a lot. Plus, Colt has been dying to see your house for, like, ever."

"He has?"

"Sure," she shrugged. "You guys have worked together for almost a decade. I think he's always wondered what your life outside of work looked like."

Tom digested that information as slowly as he digested his food, and she managed another bite of soggy, lemon-flavored lettuce before he decided on a reaction. "I didn't realize that he really cared."

"What do you mean?"

Tom shrugged; one of the rare moments he actually looked awkward while talking about something, and Parker set aside her fork to wash the bad flavor down with some bitter tasting kombucha.

Bad. It was all bad. The health food industry had to be some sort of joke.

"I don't know; just never really thought about hanging out with Colt outside of the set. I told you the stunt guys don't like me."

"What?" she deadpanned. "You? That is such shocking news. I'm shocked."

Tom huffed, then laughed, before shaking his head at her. "Don't be an ass."

"Me? Never."

"Never," he echoed, clearly mocking her. She didn't mind though. It wasn't vindictive or mean, and if it made him feel better, her ego could handle a little mocking banter. Especially when his shoulders relaxed as if a weight was being taken off them. "Whatever. Glad they, uh, had fun."

"Well, you know—open bar, secrets about the Hollywood elite. What wasn't there to like about the party?"

He nodded, another bite taken, as Parker miserably tried to force herself to eat her own food. When he had suggested a vegan salad spot, she hadn't been thrilled, but never in her wildest dreams did she imagine it would be this bad.

"Did, uh," he cleared his throat, "you enjoy the party?"

"Hm?" she hummed, not properly hearing the question as she tried to figure out if the brown thing in her bowl was a raisin or a date. Then she did, and Parker blinked up to find Tom watching her carefully. "Oh. Yeah. Yes. I had, you know, lots of fun. With Colt, Jody, er... you."

He glanced away, nodding, before peeking back at her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it was... it was nice. I mean—not just the, er—you know. Not just when you—when I—when we..." she overemphasized, face hot and red as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. She absolutely didn't want to sound like their kiss was the only thing she had thought about all weekend, but she also didn't want to act indifferent because dating had somehow drifted into a game of tag nowadays.

Not that they were dating.

Oh god.

It was one kiss. Obviously they weren't dating, and he probably hadn't even thought about it a second time, and that's probably not what he was asking about in the first place, and—she was obsessing, wasn't she?

Oh, god.

"...um," Parker choked, swallowing some more kombucha before remembering she actually hated the taste of it. Wiping her mouth, she slumped onto the table with an embarrassed sigh. "Can you just put me out of my misery, please?"

Tom lifted a brow. "You might do that yourself. Are you having a stroke?"

"Maybe."

He passed over his cup of water, and Parker took a couple small sips until her cheeks didn't feel so hot. He was still watching her, still eating his food, but it was clear from the sparkle in his eye and the smug curve of his mouth that he was greatly enjoying the show. "Just wanted to make sure you had fun," he said.

"I would have had fun if we just played twenty questions," she said, catching the way he hesitated in his eating, before continuing. The cocky gleam was gone from his eye, and something kind remained when he glanced at her. "Not to complain about the... other stuff, but I meant everything I told you. I don't hang out with you for an open bar."

Tom's gaze swept the planes of her face before he nodded. It was a confident nod, for once, and he spoke he almost sounded... happy.

"Well, that's a relief at least. With how much you drink, I'm a little worried between you and Gail I'm going to go bankrupt this year. I swear every party costs more and more."

"Can't you set a budget?"

"It's Hollywood," he deadpanned, and she supposed that was an obvious enough answer that the deadpanning was necessary. "You think anything is ever under-budget?"

Parker wouldn't really know; the only thing she stuck to a budget for was Bath & Body Works lotions and Uber Eats. Just like he had said though, if she didn't, she was confident that she would be bankrupt within days.

Shrugging, she quipped, "next time you can just invite Jody and I. By keeping Colt away, you'll probably spare yourself a few thousand on alcohol alone. Though, he did behave himself last time since he was the designated driver, but I swear he's put a few bars out of business from Happy Hour deals alone."

Tom, another heaping of lettuce down, jabbed a fork at her. "Think I'd be better keeping you away considering how many napkins you took."

"Oh, shut up. They're, like, fifty cents each!"

"You had at least a hundred in you purse when you left."

"Well—" she threw her arms up, blustering, "it's not like I took all of them. Plus, when I sell them on eBay I'll give you a commission. Unlike when you got this fancy sci-fi role. I'm still waiting on my agent's fee for that one."

He shook his head at her. "Yeah, just hold your breath on that one."

With all the maturity she could muster, Parker stuck her tongue out at Tom, and with all the maturity he could muster, he chucked a carrot at her. It bounced onto the patio ground, and she noticed with a look of betrayal that not even the local squirrel population would touch it.

"Tom," she leaned forward, "I am begging you. I need carbs."

"You don't—"

"I'm going to die. Dramatically. And not quietly. Everyone will know, and they're going to think you killed me, and the tabloids will never let that go. Forgot living to a hundred, you'll be seventy and in a retirement home. Please."

Her pleading did nothing.

So, taking drastic measures, Parker used all of her own acting experience to flutter her eyelashes at him, eyes wide and dog-like. And whether it was the pathetic way she threw herself onto the table, or maybe it was the smell of the hotdog cart from down the street, but after a long moment of begging, Tom's shoulder sank with a sigh.

"Jesus Christ, fine."

"Oh, thank god," she slumped, a disgruntled look towards her salad and kombucha before the idea of real food had her perking right back up. She had tossed their stuff in the trash before Tom could manage one more bite of his salad, and though he tried to look disgruntled by that fact, when she tugged him to his feet with a giggle, he was fighting off a smile. "Have you ever had the monster burrito from Lolita's? It has cream cheese and pickles."

"That sounds disgusting."

"I know!" she bounced in excitement, pulling him along after her, gabbing all the way.

Tom let her drag him down the street without any complaint, let her order him her favorite burrito, chips, and Mexican lemonade without arguing—though he did try to see the calorie count on the menu before she snatched it away from him—and because they were on an empty set on a Sunday no one paid them much mind.

A good thing, too, because if someone had, they might have noticed the goofy grin she was wearing, or the amused smile he was; and if they looked closer, they might have even noticed that even after they got to where they were going, Tom Ryder was still holding her hand as they waited in line, letting her lean against his chest as they waited on their orders, before sitting awfully close to her on a little stone bench outside.

But, no one noticed.

Not until her shrill ringtone broke through their game of twenty questions about an hour later as her brother complained about how hungry he was. And though he suspected something weird was going on, not even Colt noticed the sly smiles they shared with one another when they delivered his food as promised or the spot of wet lipgloss smeared on Tom Ryder's mouth.

#falling without a harness #tom ryder #tom ryder x ofc #original female character #original character #tom ryder series #tom ryder imagine #colt seavers #the fall guy #the fall guy imagine #the fall guy series

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lemon-natalia · 5 months ago

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Nona the Ninth Reaction - John 8:1 🐄

the message now reads: ‘THE/TOWER/HA’ . i’m sticking with the assumption that ‘tower’ is a full word and ‘ha’ is the beginning of the next until proven otherwise

okay and now it’s talking about falling asleep within the dream, which is confusing as all hell. whoever this narrator is, ‘her body was a mystery to her’, which is very reminiscent of the themes throughout of Nona wondering who she is. i really do think that this narrator has to be Alecto somehow or on some level, maybe because of Harrow falling asleep in the Tomb at the end of HtN?

also hammocks made of ‘baby-soft skin’. Ew.

and an interesting point of reference, John’s eyes are explicitly black w/ white rings on them, so this dream is set after Alecto becomes his cavalier. although it might mean nothing, it’s also very interesting considering just how significant eye colour has been that the torchlight makes the white ring ‘a satiny gold’, given his eyes were originally gold - i wonder if it might have something to do with the type of shared Lyctorhood he and Alecto have going on?

honestly if someone came on the internet showing off that they could control dead bodies or whatever, i would think it was a deepfake or some other trolling as well. i love that apparently there are still Flat Earthers around despite having the tech to have some kind of space station on Mars existing

its ironic people calling him the Antichrist initially, given that he eventually adopts the exact opposite vibe of being a deity. and the whole religious/God/Christ associations aren’t even something that he solely adopted post-Resurrection himself either, even here people, and John’s group of friends, are explicitly comparing him to Jesus and using Christianity as a basis of what to do

and uh yeah, realistically someone broadcasting that they can raise the dead and heal everyone would probably be considered a cultist not just by the government, but by most people honestly

and we’ve got A— Junior, (presumably) Alfred, joining the team as well, who apparently went from being a hedge fund manager in one life to swordfighting in the next. wild.

‘she’d adored being a cop’ i like Pyrrha well enough so far, but yikes

even though John’s still getting to grips with his powers, and can’t do proper resurrections yet, he still seems a lot more powerful than other necromancers later, given he’s able to build an entire wall out of perpetual bone, something which from what I remember Harrow treated as a massive achievement at the end of GtN

what the actual fuck did those cows and sheep do to you man!!! is this why Canaan House has all that horned skull imagery, as like a weird little tribute to how cow murder contributed to him becoming Emperor. maybe the real cow murder was the friends that we made along the way

‘they treated us like we’d done some kind of huge crime’ MY DUDE.

#lemon natalia reads the locked tomb #the locked tomb #the locked tomb liveblog #tlt #nona the ninth

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called-me-cerebral · 10 months ago

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When I made a TikTok about this it totally flopped so I'm posting here as well. Anyways, I think Shauna is comparable to Eve from the Bible. Jackie, of course, being the forbidden fruit. The one thing in the garden Eve couldn't have. Shauna wanted to be Jackie so badly, she ate her to know what it was like. Not to mention the symbolism in the feast scenes. Shauna being the first to eat? And one of her fruits being a pomegranate, which in some tellings is used instead of an apple? Come on. Ben, of course, in this scenario, is God. There's also the potential of Shauna being Judas, and Jackie being Jesus. The betrayal, the inability to live without each other. And there's the Christian faith tradition of "consuming the body and blood of Christ". It's very comparable to the last supper. The religious imagery in this show is absolutely wild and if it continues on this path I'd honestly love to see which girl represents which disciple. I have a few ideas already but I need to do some research first.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets season 1 #cannibalistic #religious imagery #shauna shipman #shauna sadecki #shaunajackie #jackie taylor #jackieshauna #coach ben #pomegranate

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alittlebitofloveliness · 5 months ago

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Outsiders Prompt Fic #11- "This ain't my first rodeo kid"

This one was requested by @whitemanswh0re3 who requested prompt 10 for Tim Shepard. I had a lot of fun with this one, and got to include some Curly and Angela shenanigans so I hope y'all enjoy!

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

Tim should have known better.

His first mistake was forgetting to hide ma’s liquor bottles before she woke up that morning. His second was paying more attention to Manuel’s report on their business with the Brumly boys than to his pissed off little sister, and his third was leaving the twins alone for more than five minutes without adequate supervision.

This is his fault, but all Angela’s doing. She’s mad at him so now she's getting even, and shit he’s gonna have a miserable night isn’t he? He should have known better. She’s not one to mess with. He supposes it’s his own fault- he raised her to take no shit, but honestly, she's not supposed to turn his teachings against him. She’d wanted his attention before and he’d ignored her, so now she’d gone and made it impossible for him to ignore her a second longer.

“Timmy!” Ma’s eyes are jewel bright, the booze making her happy before the comedown makes her mad. That’s fine. That’s par for the course. “Carin��, come sit with us.”

He takes in the scene in front of him. Bottles and powders- familiar evidence of Ma’s debauchery- covering every surface, his baby brother on the floor, half hidden behind the couch, his little sister bleary eyed and all but collapsed into Ma’s side.

“Come sit with us,” he can hear the deadly disbelief in his voice, “Come sit with us? With you and my seven year old baby siblings you let get drunk with you?”

She scoffs at him. Actually scoffs.

“They’ve only had a sip or two, they’re fine.”

He should have known something like this would happen the minute Angel started sucking up to Ma. Angela hates Ma. Of course she had ulterior motives. How could he be so stupid?

“They! Are! Seven! Years! Old!” He all but howls, “You shouldn’t have given them any! Jesus Christ woman, I know you decided not to be our mother but you could at least use some goddamn common sense! You don’t give children alcohol for fucks sakes.”

“Angel wanted some.” She’s petulant, like a scolded child, and Tim hates that he’s stuck raising her right along with his siblings.

“Angel wants a lotta things, and at least half of them will kill her,” he levels a glare at his sister, who doesn’t seem to really hear him before turning back to Ma “she’s gotta learn the meanin’ of no and you bet your ass I’m gonna teach it to her just as soon as I make sure they ain’t gonna die of alcohol poisonin’ because of you.”

Ma doesn’t look ashamed. She never does, never once feels guilty when she should no matter what she’s done or how much she’d hurt them. Nothing is ever her fault, not when she didn't buy enough food to feed them when they were little, not when she forgot they existed and left for a week when she went on a bender, not when her boyfriends beat on him and Curly or got too friendly with Angela. To Maria, nothing is ever her fault. Letting the twins go hog wild on her Jose Cuervo won’t be any different. She’ll blame him or fate or her piece of shit ex husband, if all else fails she’ll call it an accident but she’ll never admit that it’s all her fault. Her fault for never getting to know her children as more than dolls to play with when she's bored, her fault for giving up on mothering when he was four and never trying again, even when she had new babies, her fault for being so pathetically broken she doesn’t know- or worse just doesn’t care- what giving free access to her poison of choice could do to children who are already too used to numbing their pain in any way they can find.

He hates her. He hates her so much.

Curly is sprawled across the floor by the couch, glassy eyed and babbling to himself. The kid already never shuts up and whatever poison Ma had given him seems to have cut off his filter altogether. It don’t matter that no ones listening to him- Curly’s off in his own little world, entertaining himself. He’s a lonely kid, Tim’s seen it, seen how he’s always a bit too strange, a bit too callous, a bit too wild to every truly fit in- he supposes it’s good the kid has learned to entertain himself. Even still, he hates seeing it like this.

“What did they have?” he grits through a mask of forced calm. He’ll deal with Ma later. For now, the kids have to come first, and per usual he's the only one around willing to recognize that. “How much did you give them?”

“Really Timmy, I don’t know what you’re all up in arms about, my mama got me started early-”

“-Look how well that turned out for you, huh?” He sneers, glad to see her flinch. “Now I ain’t gonna ask you again: how much did they have and what exactly did you give them?”

“They been sippin’ from my bottle with me,” she holds up her good old Jose Cuervo bottle that Tim wants to smash against the fucking wall, “and I think Angel stole a bite or two of brownie when my back was turned.”

“She got into the grass?”

“It ain’t my fault! They’re devils, both of them. They wouldn’t listen to me when I said it wasn’t for kids, she just wanted sweets!”

“Fuck!” He kicks the beat up coffee table sending empties crashing to the floor, “fuck!”

“If they get proper sick from this,” he whirls on Maria, jabbing a finger in her direction and she cringes back. He knows he looks like Pa when he’s mad like this, it’s why usually he fights so hard to keep his temper under control. RIght now though, he doesn’t much care if he reminds her of him. Let her be scared. He hopes she feels even half the terror he’s feeling right now. “If I gotta take them to the ER or Curly chokes on his own puke or Angel finds she’s got a taste for the good stuff at seven fucking years old- I swear to god I will kill you. So you better pray they’re alright.”

She swallows, suddenly quiet and the only noise in the room is Curly’s incessant babbling, but Tim doesn’t drop eye contact and she must know he means it because without another word she rises from the couch, and stumbles down the hall closing the door of her room behind her with a snap.

Tim sighs. One problem dealt with, two to go, one of whom is having a conversation with the ceiling and the other of which seems fascinated by the feeling of the couch cushion against her cheek.

Jesus Christ.

The twins have always been small, wiry and wild as any feral animal, and he fears it’s yet another disadvantage working against them tonight, as the alcohol and the weed is bound to do a lot more damage to their systems than it would to anyone actually old enough to be playing with substances. However, their is one advantage to them being small that Tim learned very early on to use to his advantage, and that’s this: he can still manage to pick them both up at once.

He scoops Angie up first, fixing her nightgown which has gotten twisted around her neck, and she rests her head on his shoulder, but apart from that doesn’t give any indication that she knows who he is or what’s going on. She gets like this sometimes anyway, quits talking and gets real blank looking so he can’t really tell if it’s the weed hitting her hard or not. Curly on the other hand, grins as soon as he sees him and doesn’t stop talking for even a second as Tim settles him on his hip and starts carrying them down the hall to their bedroom. They should’ve been asleep ages ago, and they’ll probably crash soon regardless, but it isn’t gonna offer him any sort of peace now is it, not when he’s gonna have to wake up every hour to check that they’re still breathing.

“...an’ mama’s friend Mark came over for a bit an’ I think he’s mean but mama said we had to be nice or we’d have to go away again and then Angela stole her brownie and didn’t even share with me e’en though I gave her an easter chocklit and then mama got mad at us for fighting so she said I could have more of her special drink so it was fair but her special drink hurt my mouth but I got in trouble for spittin’ it out an’ Mark belted me a goodun’ so I had to swallow all of it-”

“Curly,” Tim cut him off firmly. That’s how he always has to do stuff with the kid. Firm. Otherwise Curly don’t pay attention long enough to listen to anything, “what do you mean that bastard belted you?”

“He hit me,” Curly told him simply, and Tim hated how matter of fact he sounded. No seven year old should sound so blase about being smacked, “a goodun’ in the back, but I didn’t cry ‘cause I know you wouldn’t an’ I’m tough like you so I just glared at him and called him a motherfucker like you woulda-”

“Curly, let me see your back.”

He eased the kid’s t-shirt over Curly’s scrawny shoulders, feeling a new spike of rage at the hand shaped purple bruise blooming across Curly's shoulder. That asshole. Tim was gonna hunt him down and give him a taste of his own medicine. He’d learn not to mess with a Shepard ever again, and maybe he’d learn a lesson about beating little kids too.

“You did good kid,” Tim told him, fixing Curly’s t-shirt, “that bastard ain’t gonna take a swing at you again, y’hear?”

“I’ll beat him up if he tries. You can help,” Curly offers magnanimously, “you’re real good at beatin’ people up. I bet me’n you could beat up anyone if we tried. Even a football player soc.”

“Even a football player soc.” Tim agrees, hating the softness that’s welling in his chest. He’s supposed to be angry at them- they’re big enough to know they aren’t supposed to talk to Ma if he isn’t around and he’s had the talk about not eating or drinking anything Ma gives them more than once- but it’s hard when the booze has made Curly so sweet, and Angel so cuddly, curled into his lap. They’ll be grumpy tomorrow, sick and sore, and hopefully that’ll teach them a lesson, but for now he figures he can afford to be a little extra nice to them. After all, it doesn’t sound like Ma or latest her boyfriend had been earlier.

“Angel’s bein’ real quiet doncha think?” Curly really couldn’t shut up if his life depended on it. Tim just hums, shifting so he’s leaning against the wall, Angela in his lap and Curly leaning into his side. “She says that brownie made her feel all floaty and thet talkings making her sick, but that drink made my head cloudy too and I don’t feel sick so I thought it was maybe an al-er-gic reaction like Saide Thomason had at school except I made her blow on my hand and could feel the air so I guess she’s still breathing, which is good because I don’t want Angel to stop breathin’.”

He pats her cheek none too gently but Angela doesn’t seem to mind, offering him a dopey smile,far less guarded than her usual one. Yeah, she’s real out of it, but Curly’s assessment seems to ring true, and Tim thinks she’ll be ok.

“Angel’s my best friend, did you know?” Curly informs him, before looking down at his twin sister, “You’re my best friend Angel, even though you are plain old mean sometimes. It’s ok though ‘cause I am too sometimes, and usually you’re just mean ‘cause you're sad, and I figure that’s alright. Ponyboy says you should try not to be mean ever but he also called Dillon an asshole at recesss yesterday so he’s a hyp- hypo-critter or whatever it’s called when you’re a big dirty liar-”

Curly’s mouth was still spilling words at warp speed but his eyes were starting to droop, and Tim figured he’d talk himself to sleep pretty soon. Angel had already nodded off a minute ago, and the even breaths puffing out of her mouth between snores reassured him she was doing alright and wasn’t gonna overdose the way he’d been worried about since Ma let slip she’d got ahold of that brownie. Was he still gonna wait up to make sure? Obviously, but at least there wasn’t panicky tension thrumming under his skin anymore.

Curly dropped off to sleep exactly the way Tim knew he would, cutting himself off mid sentence and slumping against him. Tim sighed, waiting a minute to make sure he was truly out before carefully shifting him so he was curled up beside Angela, head tilted so he wouldn’t choke if he threw up in his sleep. Tim climbed off the bed, making sure not to jostle either of them lest he accidentally wake them up. Angel was blitzed outta her mind, and Curly had drunk himself into a near stupor, but he still wasn’t about to risk it.

He dragged Curly’s mattress across the room so he was right next to them when they inevitably woke up fussy, and quickly fell into a fitful doze.

He jerked awake an hour later, and after checking to make sure both kids were still sound asleep and triple checking they were breathing ok, fell back onto his own mattress.

The next time he wakes it’s to the sound of whimpering.

Internally cursing and blinking blearily he sits up to see Curly twisted in the blankets, hair flat on one side and eyes welling with unshed tears.

“Tim?” Curly sounds very small, “I don’t feel good.”

“Ok kid,” Tim sighs, swinging Curly into his arms and carrying him down to the bathroom, “it’s alright. This is just what happens when you drink Ma’s special drinks.”

“I don't wanna be sick,” Curly whines, a dangerous wobble in his voice, “I didn’t even like her special drink.”

Tim really, really can’t handle the waterworks right now.

“It’s alright kid, just let yourself throw up and you’ll feel better.”

Curly does, managing to get the whole mess in the bowl and isn’t that a fucking miracle since usually the bathroom looks like a crime scene whenever the twins get sick. Tim rubs his back, pushing his curls out of his face until he’s sure Curly’s done, then wets a corner of the hand towel with water and uses it to wipe his baby brother’s face.

“You’re real good at this,” Curly mumbles, already half asleep as Tim carries him back to bed.

“Yeah,” Tim agrees quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the sleeping kid’s forehead as he lays him next to Angela, “this ain’t my first rodeo kid.”

Curly snuffles a little, loud even in sleep, and Angela somehow managed to headbut him in the shoulder and toss an arm over his shoulders without waking up.

Tim regards them both a second longer, watches their chests rise and fall- breathing, alive, safe, if only for the moment, and drops back onto his own mattress for the night.

He'll be here when they wake up, but for now he’s gonna get some much needed sleep.

#the outsiders #tim shepard #curly shepard #angela shepard #ponyboy curtis

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temptingfatetakingnames · 5 months ago

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The Last Steve Harrington Part 20

AO3 / Part 1 / Part 19

Eddie watched as Steve drove away, tucking his hands in his pockets and frowning in concentration. Something had just happened. When Steve had stumbled forward and he caught him – there had been something in his eyes that Eddie had never seen in them before. Something heated. Something weighted. Something he was terrified to even consider naming because what if he was wrong? What if he had misread or misunderstood it?

They were friends. Good friends, Eddie was shocked to admit. He was honestly surprised at how easily they had fallen into it. Was it because they had known each other in another life? Had loved each other in another universe…? Eddie shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He didn’t believe in fate. Just because Steve had been with Eds didn’t mean that they shared some kind of cosmic connection. The world didn’t work like that. Not for Eddie Munson anyway. Not for this Eddie Munson anyway.

But the more he got to know Steve, the more he liked him. He was still quiet and haunted by his grief sometimes – but there were more and more days now where he laughed and joked and smiled. Especially when the kids were around. He was just so good with them. Eddie understood, a little… he had heard all the stories, had even witnessed a few himself, and he knew who their Steve had been. But for this Steve to be so good with the kids, to fit so perfectly into the gaping wound in all their hearts –

It meant that some things did carry over.

Didn’t it?

Eddie shook his head again, exasperated at how often his thoughts strayed to Steve Goddamn Harrington.

It’s just that… he was also surprised at how committed Steve was in helping him fix up the trailer – spending his time and his money on it a few days every week. He worked hard, and even managed to keep Eddie focused and on task, which was no small thing! And Jesus Christ, every time he climbed up that ladder…There were a few times he thought Steve had caught him checking him out but he never reacted. Had never returned even a hint of interest.

Until today.

Eddie didn’t really know what to do with that information. He just knew that he liked spending time with him. That every time Steve opened up – it felt like a gift. Realistically, Eddie knew that he didn’t have a chance. That whatever fleeting moment of lust or desire that he had seen in Steve’s eyes was because….

Well…because he looked like fucking Eds.

And wasn’t that just Eddie’s goddamn luck?

---

Robin was still trying to convince him to go to Eddie’s party, pacing around the room and glaring in his direction. Steve was sitting on her bed, trying to hold back his smile because he had already decided to go. It was just too fun to get her riled up.

“It’ll be fun, Steve! You never go out! You need to let off steam…and meet new people! Let’s go to the party. Please? Please? Please?” Robin asked and turned pleading eyes in his direction.

He was only a little nervous about going. He didn’t know how to interact with people anymore, didn’t know how to forge new connections. He didn’t count Robin because she had bludgeoned her way past his walls faster than he could build them. He also didn’t count Joyce or Hopper because they were his pseudo-adoptive parents, not his friends. The kids… well, they were his kids – he had no hope of ever keeping them at arm’s length. Eddie didn’t count because – because he didn’t count!

How was he supposed to meet people and make friends when he didn’t really belong here? When all his memories were from a place that no longer existed? How he could be himself when he was still trying to figure out where he ended and Other Steve began? It felt like every new beginning would be tinged with lies, with deception. How much did he tell them, how much did he hold back?

He sighed loudly and Robin turned away with a groan before collapsing onto the ground. He crawled the length of the bed and peaked his head over the side. Her hair was a wild cloud around her head and she had an arm over her eyes. Jesus, she was as dramatic as Eddie. How had he ended up surrounded by the most dramatic people on the planet?

“Alright,” he said, drawing out the word as if she had convinced him. “Let’s go to the party.”

She jumped up and screamed, “yes!” before launching herself at him. They fell back on to the bed, laughing.

“It’ll be great,” Robin said as she beamed up at him.

“Been to a lot of Eddie’s park parties, have you?”

“Sure, a few!”

“Well, what can I expect?”

“It’s a party, Steve. You can expect a party.”

“Very helpful. Thank you, Rob,” Steve said sarcastically.

“You’re welcome, now what are you going to wear?”

He hadn’t really thought about it, but he was wearing the same thing he had worn all day. The same thing he had worn when he and Eddie had hung out earlier. He should definitely change…but he didn’t have anything that was much different from what he wore every day. Steve found that he wanted to dress up a little, he wanted to look good. He tried very hard not to think about why. A finger appeared in front of his face and softly pressed into the space between his eyebrows.

“You’re going to get wrinkles if you keep thinking that hard.”

He turned to Robin and she let her hand drop.

“I don’t think I have anything to wear, other than changing this shirt into an equally plain but different colored shirt.”

Robin hummed as she looked over him critically.

“The jeans are fine, but we do need to change the shirt – you have a yellow one, right?”

Steve nodded.

“You look good in yellow…” Robin trailed off as she got off the bed and went to her closet. She flung it open and inspected it quietly, biting the tip of one of her nails. She moved coat hangers from one side to the other. Then she moved them back. Then back again. Steve doubted she had anything that would look good on him. Robin had a unique style that worked for her, but it definitely wouldn’t work for him.

“Rob, it’s fine –”

She pulled his blue Harrington jacket out of the back of her closet. She looked at it for a moment, gaze soft before bringing it over to him.

“I don’t know if this is something you wore, too.”

“It is, but…”

“You should wear it tonight, if you want to. It always looked great on Steve, so it’ll look great on you too of course, and the blue will go nicely with the yellow and you said you didn’t have anything and we don’t have time to go shopping somewhere with better options than Hawkins, so…”

She was rambling. Nervous. Looking at the jacket in her hands and not at him. Probably afraid that he would freak out on her. A few months ago, he would have. He recognized his old clothes on the kids every now and then – jackets, vests, polos and t-shirts. They must have raided Other Steve’s closet before his parents tossed it all out. None of it had ever been offered to him, which he was glad for because he would have refused to take any of it. Odd enough wearing Other Steve’s life, he didn’t need to wear his clothes too. But he knew that Robin wasn’t giving him this jacket, it clearly meant a lot to her. She was letting him borrow it because he had been worried about what he was going to wear. Nothing more.

“Thanks Rob, I’d love to borrow it for the night.”

She smiled and held it out to him, spinning back to her closet after he took it.

“Now for me…” she said slowly.

He stared down at the jacket, remembering simpler times and simpler worries. A different life.

Fingering the material, he smiled.

He did look great in it.

---

The night was cool as they drove up to the trailer park. Summer was truly gone and the coming winter could be felt in the air. They had stopped at his place so he could grab the Edge of Silence tape and change into a yellow shirt. His coat had felt odd when he put it on, like a skin he had previously shed and then tried to sliver back into. Despite the weight he had lost it was tight around his shoulders. Robin gushed about how good he looked until he started blushing and he rushed her out of the house.

His nerves worsened the closer they got to the park.

“People from high school are going to be there, aren’t they?” he asked a little desperately. Why did he think this was a good idea? “People who knew him?”

“Probably,” Robin said as she nodded seriously. “But they’re all going to be people that he didn’t hang out with much…or at all if I think about it. Like Eddie’s band. Most people left after graduation and…everything, so there won’t be many of them.”

“Steve might not have hung out with Corroded Coffin but I did, Rob. They were my friends.”

Her eyes widened in understanding.

“Oh…”

Yeah. Oh.

The tires crunched on gravel as he turned the car into the trailer park and his heart started to jack-rabbit around his rib cage. A frightened thing trying to escape.

“Well, this could be a great way to get reacquainted? High school was a while ago, you’re different, they’re different. A new start!”

Steve wondered when he would stop needing ‘new starts,’ but he did appreciate Robin’s endless optimism.

“We didn’t really come up with a story for why I was gone for so long.”

“I imagine Eddie would have warned them off of asking you about it, but we can come up with something now if you want to.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Something simple, but plausible? Just in case.”

“You went on a journey of self-discovery!” Robin said as she spread her arms out in front of her.

“Is that supposed to be code for rehab?”

“No! But…rehab could work…”

He quickly shot her a disgruntled look before turning back to the road and parking the car in front of the Munson trailer.

“Okay, no rehab,” Robin said as she unclicked her seatbelt. “Let me think for a sec.”

Simple. Plausible. He turned in his seat so he was facing her and said, “I just needed to get out of Hawkins. Same as all the other people that left.”

“That’ll do. It leaves you open for questions though. Why didn’t you tell anyone you were leaving? Where did you go? Why did you finally come back?”

“Guess we’ll see,” he said and slipped out of the car. “Hopefully people won’t be that nosy. I don’t owe anyone an explanation anyway.”

“You really don’t,” she agreed easily.

She came around to his side of the car, linked their arms together and they set off. There was a roaring bonfire in a large pit blazing away from the trailers, flames and smoke curling up into the night sky. It was encircled by picnic tables and lawn chairs that had been dragged over from peoples’ homes. It wasn’t too late in the night so music was playing on a large boom box. He made out Wayne sitting close to the fire, beer in hand, chatting with some of the older folks from the park. Eddie and the boys from Corroded Coffin were at all one of the picnic tables with a few other people Steve recognized from high school.

“Holy shit,” a shocked voice said as he and Robin walked up. “It’s actually Steve Harrington. I thought you were fucking with us, Eddie.”

Eddie whipped his head in their direction and his eyes widened as he took them in. He looked at Steve like he was seeing a ghost in the flickering firelight. Eddie’s overalls from earlier in the day were gone and he was wearing his usual black ripped jeans, chains hanging from his studded belt. His hellfire shirt was covered by a denim vest and a leather jacket, pins and patches covering them both. A battered pair of headphones around his neck completed the outfit.

He blinked a few times before a grin spread across his face and he came over to them with arms spread wide. “Steve! Robin!” he shouted, pulling them into a tight embrace. “Glad you could make it, come sit!”

Eddie turned, Robin under one arm and Steve under the other, and led them over to the table. There was some grumbling and shuffling around so they could all fit. Robin squeezed herself into the middle of one side, sitting beside a girl with short hair and a nose ring. Steve sat himself on the edge of the seat, legs stretched out long beside the table. After he got settled, he looked up to see the entire table staring at him.

“Uh, hi,” he said.

Wide eyed stares greeted him but before it got too uncomfortable, Eddie stepped in.

“Everyone this is Steve, Steve this is: Gareth, Sam, Jeff, you know Robin – beside her is Liz, and Grant,” Eddie said as he pointed to each person.

“Hey,” Steve tried again, with a little wave this time for good measure.

He wasn’t sure if it was his wave or Eddie’s glare but everyone chirped in with little hellos and awkward waves of their own. Conversations began again, but everyone’s eyes still trailed over to him every few minutes.

“So… Steve, where the hell have you been?” Grant asked suddenly.

Eddie, standing at the head of the table because there wasn’t room for him to sit anymore, spat out his beer. Steve was almost relieved that the question had popped out so early in the night because now he could stop worrying about it. He shrugged; if he acted like it didn’t matter, like it wasn’t a big deal, maybe they wouldn’t think it was either.

“Around,” he said vaguely. “With everything that happened last year, I thought it was best to get out of Hawkins for a bit.”

“There was a search party for you, man,” Jeff said incredulously.

Steve couldn’t help but scoff. “How long did that last before my parents called it off? One day? Two?”

No one answered as he looked from one face to another.

“Two,” Robin answered quietly, holding his eyes.

They hadn’t told him there had been a search party. He was surprised his parents had put up with it for two whole days. There must be some law that required it before they could officially file him away as missing. The bare minimum sounded about right for the Harrington’s. It didn’t matter, Steve decided…but he couldn’t help imagining Robin in the woods, keeping up appearances and searching for a body or a clue that she knew they would never find. He hoped she didn’t do it. He hoped none of them did.

The atmosphere felt tense and Steve didn’t know what to say. Robin was right, he should have told them he was in rehab. Eddie probably would have found that hilarious. He reminded himself that he didn’t owe them any more of an explanation than he had already given.

“Has Will finished writing your campaign?” Eddie asked as he came around to Steve’s side and perched himself on the table in front of him, leaning down into his space.

“Not yet,” Steve replied. “He’s been working on it a lot though; he’s really excited to DM. You’re gunna play with us, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Eddie said and winked. “Oh! Let me get you and Robin a beer.”

Eddie jumped off the table, landed badly and pitched forward but luckily caught himself before he faceplanted into the grass. Steve watched his back as he walked over to where Wayne was sitting, a cooler beside his seat. They spoke for a bit, Eddie standing with his back to the fire and Wayne looking up at him. He looked good against the firelight, smiling so big at his uncle that his dimples showed. Steve turned back to the others before he got caught staring.

Liz was talking to Robin, their heads tilted close, Gareth and Jeff were arguing about something beside him and across from him, Grant was eyeing him warily.

“You’re playing D&D?” he asked skeptically.

“The kids have been trying to get me to play for years, it was only a matter of time before I cracked,” Steve replied with a smile, deciding to stick to a version of the truth.

“What class are you choosing?” Gareth asked from his side – a test – a challenge.

Steve had given it some thought but he was stuck between choosing a wizard or a thief. He had been tempted to pick another fighting class because it was what he knew how to do but had decided against it. He wanted something completely different as a way to keep the games separate in his mind.

“Haven’t decided yet, but I’m thinking either a wizard or a thief.”

Gareth made a shocked splutter at his answer as Eddie returned to the table, plunking a can of beer down in front of him and Robin. Steve nodded his thanks and cracked the tab before taking a long drink. The beer was cheap and mostly tasteless but it was cool and refreshing.

“What are we discussing?” Eddie asked after taking a sip of his own beer.

“The merits between a wizard and a thief,” Jeff supplied, leaning forward so he could be seen.

“Oh.” Eddie brightened. “Don’t get me started on that, I could go on for ages!”

He did, in fact, go on for ages… but by the end of it, Steve had decided he was going to be a thief.

It sounded like fun.

---

Later in the night, after the younger and older folks had gone off to bed and the music was turned down, they had all settled around the fire. Robin was sitting across from him, talking to Liz and Jeff. She glanced over at him a few times, checking his position, making sure he was okay, which was sweet but unnecessary. He had stopped drinking after only a few beers so he could drive them both home later and he was content to sit and enjoy the fire.

Eddie’s friends didn’t seem to know what to do with him. Which was fair because he didn’t know what to do with them either. Things still felt a bit tense when he talked to the Corroded Coffin boys but they loosened up as time went on. Eddie had been smart to bring up D&D because it really broke the ice. Pretending he knew less than he did was hard, but they seemed to really appreciate his interest. Liz was friendly and he could tell why Robin had a crush on her. He would have to talk to her about that later.

He was quietly staring at the fire, enjoying the sounds around him even if he wasn’t currently apart of them, when Eddie slipped into the empty seat beside him.

“Did you bring it?”

“Bring what?”

“Steve,” Eddie whined and pouted at him, causing Steve to crack a smile.

He reached into his pocket, took out the cassette tape and waved it in Eddie’s face.

“Is this what you want?”

Eddie screamed and grabbed it out of his hands before Steve could even attempt to play keep away. He pulled a Walkman out of his back pocket and popped the tape in.

“I’m so excited,” Eddie said, smiling wide and bouncing his legs. He settled his headphones over his ears and pushed play. Steve could faintly hear the music and he watched Eddie’s face closely for any sign of pleasure or displeasure. The man had a surprisingly good poker face when he wanted to.

Time slowed as Steve watched him listen to music that no other living creature in this universe had ever listened to before. Eddie’s eyes widened as the first song continued, but he gave nothing else away. Steve had no idea if he loved it or hated it. After what felt like an eternity, his thumb hit the pause button and he slowly put his headphones back around his neck.

“Shit. Steve, I –” he cut himself off, running his fingers through his hair. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Speechless. Eddie was speechless!

Steve waited impatiently for him to get his thoughts together but he just kept staring into the distance as he ran his thumb over the buttons on the Walkman.

“What did you think?” Steve finally asked. “You should listen to more; the third song is my favourite. Eds liked the last one best.”

It felt good to be able to share something from his home. To share this small piece of his history that he had managed to save. Steve remembered when Eds had first played Edge of Silence for him: He had been so nervous, so afraid that Steve wouldn’t like them. It was the first time that they had really connected over music because their tastes had always been so different. A lot of metal music just sounded like noise to Steve and he could never listen to it loud enough to fully appreciate it. Edge of Silence was still metal as hell, but they had a beat that Steve could tap along to and lyrics that made him feel understood.

He wanted Eddie to hear it, he wanted to share it with him. Reaching out, Steve moved the headphones back to Eddie’s ears and pushed play. This time, Steve watched as emotion danced across his face, his stoic act over. He listened closely, intently, taking in the instrumentals and vocals. When the third song started, Eddie captured Steve’s eyes and held them.

The world disappeared around them, nothing but the flickering firelight and the hints of the song escaping through Eddie’s headphones.

No one’s looking for

A lost boy all grown

But still, I want to be found

No one cares for a

A lost boy all grown

But still, I want to be held

Steve was suddenly afraid that he was revealing too much of himself as Eddie continued to hold his eyes. It was too intimate, too much. His heart begged him to run but Eddie reached out and took his hand, stilling his nervous fidgeting. They were sitting close, bodies angled towards each other instinctually as they shared the music. The fire crackled and the song continued and Eddie made small circles on the back of his hand with his thumb and Steve wished they were alone. Wished everyone else would disappear.

Eddie took a deep breath and paused the tape when the song faded, using one hand to push his headphones back around his neck.

“They’re amazing, Steve. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Speechless, huh?” Steve asked with a smile. “That must be new for you.”

“I want to listen to more, but I’m afraid if I keep going right now, I won’t stop. They’re great musicians but the drummer and lead vocalist are something else. I feel like I could spend hours taking apart every little detail.”

“Borrow it for a bit. Make yourself a copy.”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asked, looking at Steve intently.

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He didn’t want to have the only copy in existence, and maybe Eddie would learn some of their songs and play them for him.

“Now you know how I feel about Madonna.”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed so hard that the others looked over to see what was going on and Steve smiled so wide his face started to hurt. When they calmed down, they both leaned back in their chairs and Steve tried very hard not to freak out over the fact that Eddie hadn’t let go of his hand yet.

Part 21

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-Hopefully the tags are working the way they are supposed to! I've been having trouble so some of you may have missed a few chapters, I do apologize if that happened! -As always, thank you so much for your patience and support <3

@bookworm0690 @estrellami-1 @hbyrde36 @mx-jinxous @a-gae-af-racoon

@novelnovella @meela86 @vampireinthesun @penny00dreadful @questionablequeeries

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#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #multiverse #angst with a happy ending #slow burn #the last steve harrington

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