#it would be nice to have a trailer and have something to be excited about but i’ve been coasting miserably for months at this point

[glaciertea]

Tickets for Two

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader two-shot

Part 2 (coming soon)

This is part one of this story that's been on my mind for quite a while.

Summary: Working the graveyard shift at a movie theater has it quirks. It's not the best thing, and it's not the worst.

Well, there is one thing that keeps you from leaving this job.

The huge, gorgeous man who comes in every Thursday.

CW: Nothing for this chapter, just having a crush on Miguel.

Word count: 1.7k

There was something about Thursday nights in the movie theater that always made you exhilarated.

It wasn't the smell of freshly stale popcorn that stunk up your nostrils or the fact that you were able to score the after-hours time slot on this day. The ones many would kill to have because after 9 p.m., the place is a barren ghost town. Oh, no. It wasn't one of those reasons. 

It was him.

Throughout the year and a half you managed to survive working here; you've never seen a man like that before in your life. Yes, you've seen your fair share of attractive people come in and out; of course, this was a place to watch the latest hit-or-miss films. But this one, this one was different.

Tall, high cheekbones, a jawline that could shapren diamonds merely by looking at them, those piercing eyes, and those muscles. You always have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming.

He started coming three months ago for the ‘Traditional Thursdays’ feature presentation. Your theater would show old movies from the 1930's ranging to the 2020's or 2030's. It was a nice addition, as your boss wanted to have that “retro-style feel,” and it was pretty successful… if one were to go at the 9 p.m. slot. That frame usually brought in a decent amount of customers, but you were happy to not deal with that anymore.

You managed to get in the ten-to-one schedule block. It was a ghost town during those hours, especially with the midnight showings. You would lounge behind the concession, eyeing a few nightcrawlers emerge, but you would wait for him.

He would walk through the sliding doors exactly at midnight. Never a minute early, never a minute late. The actual film doesn't begin until 12:10 to showcase the following week's feature and a trailer or two. 

So it gives him enough time to head in your direction. He has become a regular for you, always ordering a medium black roast coffee, a small popcorn, and a pack of gummy worms. It got to the point where you realized the items were never going to change, so you made it a habit to have them prepared for him on hand. You barely speak because you don't know what to conjure up, and you certainly don't want to make a fool of yourself, so you stick to the basic “Here's your order” and “Enjoy your film.”

He always responds with a “Thank you” or an “I appreciate it,” and each time, your knees will wobble. His voice was smoother than the butter that you poured on the popcorn. He had you weak. His chiseled profile, his domineering height—he was too good to be true. You want to know more about him, but he's very much to himself. You are intimidated by him; his demeanor can make him seem unapproachable, but that only draws you in more.

There will be a day you will finally find the courage to strike up a conversation. One day.

You just weren't expecting it to be today. You manned the concussion stand, eyeing the time and counting the milliseconds. It was, of course, slow, but you loved it. Easy money to you.

His order was fresh and ready to go; he was going to stroll in less than a minute, and you had to put a lid on your excitement. And like clockwork, he came in and made his way right to you.

Putting on your best smile, you placed the snacks and beverage on the counter. “I got everything ready to go, sir. Piping hot and a new batch of popcorn made.”

“Actually, I want to switch it up. I'm sorry for the inconvenience.”

Your brain practically malfunctioned. Not from the request, but from the fact he uttered more words to you. Your reaction must have given something away as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“If not, that's fine. I don't want you wasting supplies on me.”

Scolding yourself, you shook your head and waved your hands. “No, no! No, sir, it's not an inconvenience at all. I'll gladly ring you up with a new order. Anything for the customer.” You despised saying that phrase as it got so many ungrateful, smug idiots out of problems they decided to cause. But for him? You would repeat it endlessly.

Discarding the usual and clearing the order from the register, you nodded. “What are your taste buds tingling for?” Did you really say those words in that order? Your body suddenly wanted to combust.

The man raised a brow as you chuckled nervously. “That sounded... less dumber in my head.”

His lips turned upwards at that, and your heart stopped. He smiles? He can smile! You never once saw him do that, but if you did, you managed to miss it. He managed to look more radiant; how was that possible?

“Well, my taste buds are craving pretzel bites, fruit snacks, and... can I make my medium roast into a large?”

“Yes, sir, I'll try to get it done before the film starts.” 

“No hay necesidad de apresurarse. Take your time.”

“Okay.” You squeaked out, hiding your flustered state from him.

Miguel rested his arms on the countertop and observed the way you moved back and forth, blending new beans and meticulously placing the hot pretzels in a bag. 

“Here you go.” You reached down and took a packet of fruits and propped it nicely on the pretzel bag. “Steaming and raring to go.”

“Are you usually precise when making these orders?” Miguel pulled his wallet out and paid for the meal, leaving a nice tip.

“Kind of. Maybe it's because I have more time to do these things, and I like my regulars to enjoy nice treats.” You grinned and went to clean up his usual. “I hope you enjoy.

“I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Definitely keeping sure. Thank you again.”

You didn't know what meant by that as he took up his things and headed off to catch the film. You put your hand to your chest and calmed your heart rate, going on about your night. You honestly believed that would've been the end of that interaction and that the following week would revert back to the same old, same old, but you were far from it.

The next Thursday, he was there, but fifteen minutes earlier, asking for a new item from the menu alongside the other treats. You were once again thrown off, but that didn't mean you got to be near his presence more, and if not longer. 

It started off with small extras. A bag of pretzels, sized up on the popcorn, an extra bag of candy—nothing too extravagant. However, as the weeks coasted by, the orders got bigger. A hotdog, flatbread pizza, sliders—those meals took you longer to make, but you did not mind one bit. 

You got to chat with him constantly; when Thursday rolled around, you had that extra pep in your step. The conversations ranged from his tedious office filled with people of the same personality, the many tales of strange movie customers from you, or anything that springs to mind. He was awkward, loveable, and sweet, and your crush for him only grew more with each visit. To the point that it was overwhelming.

And it wasn't blowing away anytime soon. 

You were fixing him up a basket of curly fries and chicken tenders casually yapping away when the topic of movie genres popped up.

“I'm into animated movies. They seemingly are able to convey more emotions than actual humans.”

Miguel enjoyed watching you; he honestly preferred looking at you than the film he was supposed to see. “I enjoy them as well. They tend to have moments that resonate with you on a higher emotional level.” He tapped his finger on the glass counter. “Do you have any favorites?”

“Hmm.” You rubbed your chin before moving back over to the fries and dumping some extra salt and pepper on them (they barely had any flavor to them). “I like a good Lixar film. It's funny how they're able to give certain things sentiment. Rather it's inanimate or not, they find a way. I mean, they gave a torso and sweater emotions. A sweater!” You poured the fries into the plastic basket and moved onto the tenders. “Now in particular, I love Bouillabaisse. Up is a heartbreaker, but I can understand the older man's pain. Searching Elmo is so gorgeous, especially for the time it came out. And Coco, that's a tearjerker. That ending scene when he's singing to her? Gets me every time.” 

“I enjoyed all those as well.” Miguel took a sip of his freshly brewed coffee. “Especially the last one.”

“Oh yeah?” You grabbed some tongs and flipped the tenders to cook them evenly. 

“Sí. A bit of a bias though.” 

“A bias?”

“I share the name of the main character.” He stared right into your eyes as he said that.

“Miguel.” It was velvety as it slid off your tongue.

Was that a suave way of him giving his name? It never occurred to you that you actually never learned his name. He knew yours because of the required name tag, but you were glad to know it now and took it with no complaints.

“It fits.” You smiled and finally finished and rang up his meal. “I shouldn't keep you from the movie. I hope everything is of satisfaction for you.”

“You already know it will be.” He paid and reached for his goods when he stopped.

You crooked your neck and looked down to make sure you didn't miss anything. His usual and the new meal were there, so you didn't know what was up. 

“Is everything okay? Did I mess up your order?”

“Everything is fine. I only want to…” he snatched up a napkin and scanned, even going as far as peering over the counter.

“Miguel?” 

“Do you have a pen?” 

“Yes?” You took one from under the register and handed it to him.

“Thank you.” He scribbled down at lightning pace and folded it half, sliding it across to you. “I'll see you then.” He bowed his head, snagged up his meal and left. 

You had to wait several seconds to recover from your shock when you hastily snatched up the napkin and opened it up. You drew your lips to your teeth to prevent yourself from screaming. 

There were ten digits written in blue.

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

yes i’m tired and angry at hbo max for not even bothering to give us scraps and yes i’m miserable and jaded about rainbow capitalism but also if we DO actually get a trailer tomorrow the extreme dopamine hit and the flood of endorphins that i’ll get from seeing new footage of edward teach will probably temporarily override any trace of bitterness about being continually done dirty by corporations for like, at least an entire week

[myspacebrat]

Game over

best friend gamer boy e.m.

blurb request: congrats on 5k my angel 🥺 you deserve it. 🍒 but i was hoping to request a little blurbie with best friend gamer eddie (your gamer eddie series was so good I love him) and we’re just tired of him playing his game while we’re over so we find a way to distract him 🤭 (or whatever else your sexy brain comes up with tbh hehe) by @reidsbtch

authors note: thank you so so much baby girl, I love you and hope you like this smutty little treat <3

picture credit: @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

18+ mdni contains smut

“C’mon Ed’s, I came over to hang out, not watch you play your dumb games.” You huff out as you cross your arms over your chest in irritation.

“I said one more round!” Eddie shouts as he gets his ass kicked in some fantasy game you couldn’t bother remembering the name of.

“You said one more round, five rounds ago!” You growl as your head falls back against the couch.

“Jesus, would you shut up and let me concentrate.” Your best friend grumbles as his spread legs part even further, causing your eyes to fall on his lap and the very prominent imprint of his dick that could be seen through the blue Jean fabric.

the extent of ever seeing Eddie’s little friend okay scratch that big friend from what you could tell, was the few times you swam in lovers lake together and he wore his plaid boxers that had a big enough hole to fit your entire hand into. It had poked out a few times and to be honest, well you’ll give him the benefit of the doubt because it was extremely cold that day. But, sitting here and looking at his dick print has you reevaluating everything you have assumed about your best friend’s junk thus far.

“You really want me to shut up?” You ask with husky flirtation, a smirk taking over your face as an idea hits you. It could only go one of two ways, either eddie would tell you to get the fuck off of him or he’ll welcome it, tell you to keep going, don’t stop. The possibility of hearing those words leave your best friend’s lips outweighed the negative.

“Mhm, I need you real quiet right now, princess. See I’m trying to kills those fuckin’ gu— w-what are you doing?” He stammers, taking his eyes off the screen for the first time since you walked into his trailer. You had moved quick, making yourself comfortable between his spread legs.

Your knees dig into the rough carpet as you look up at him, his big glossy eyes as wide as saucers.

“Well what does it look like I’m doing, silly? If you need me to be quiet, I’m gonna need something to fill my mouth up with.” You send him a sweet smile before rubbing your face over the imprint in his jeans.

“Hol- uh, um, fuck. You wanna um, put my dick in your mouth? Is—is that what you’re asking me right now?” He chokes on his words as his game awaits, long forgotten as the words “game over” flash across the screen.

“Yes, eddie I’m asking you to put my mouth to good use.” You breathe through your nose as your impatience grows, while you continue to rub your face on his bulge, feeling it twitch with want underneath you.

“Okay, I’m sorry I have to just ask one more time. You wanna suck my dick?” He asks again in bewilderment, his eyebrows furrow as if he’s holding back from doing exactly what he really wants, he has to be sure that this isn’t some fucked up joke.

“If you don’t pull your cock out in five seconds, I’m leaving.” You say as a stoic look falls onto your face, and you back away from his center, putting way too much space between you both for Eddie’s liking.

“Okay, okay. Fuck, I’m going.” He huffs with half exasperation and half excitement.

“There’s a good boy.” You purr, moving your face back towards his dick. You begin licking his growing cock through the fabric, getting it nice and wet before spitting on it, your saliva darkening his jeans from light to dark blue as you begin to spread the wetness around in circles with your middle finger, over what you assume to be his tip.

Eddie shudders as he pulls his zipper down, the way you’re practically sucking him through his jeans feels fucking phenomenal already, and the good boy has him feeling so needy.

He finally wrestles with his jeans and boxers, quickly thrusting his hips up once you’ve moved away, allowing him to pull them down. He lets his full balls plop out over the fabric. His hard cock is now exposed to the open air of his trailer and his balls sit there all big, mouth watering and tempting as hell.

“Oh my god!” You exclaim with wide eyes, they cross as you take in the way it stands straight up, his pink tip glistening while a large purple vein runs along his shaft. You wanna follow it with the tip of your tongue, so you do.

“Hnng, oh fuck!” Eddie groans, already feeling too close to the edge.

“You’re so big ed’s.” You say as you stroke his ego and his cock at the same time.

“Am I?” He asks, but there’s no real question behind it.

You take the tip of his cock in your mouth, sucking off all the precum and moaning when it coats your tongue.

You work him down inch by inch, eventually reaching your throat but to Eddie’s surprise you don’t gag, not one bit and he just knows he’s in for a wild ride.

“Go ahead eddie, play your game while my mouths occupied. Ya’ know, so you can concentrate?” You giggle deviously, knowing there’s no way in hell he’ll be able to pay attention to anything other than you.

[usedtobecooler]

calling up virgin!eddie whilst he's watching a porno and talking him through jerking off <3

content warnings: sexual content 18+ minors dni, f masturbation, m masturbation, dirty talk.

“and so then i told steve to fuck off because seriously, i thought we were passed the stage of him constantly staring at my ti—"

your ears catch it then, and you cut yourself off mid-sentence to make sure you're really hearing what you think you are.

the grunting, the clapping, the loud moaning. tinny and crackly through shitty speakers.

“eddie?”

“hmm?”

“are you watching a dirty movie?” you’re giddy with it, knowing the question is going to embarrass eddie and turn him into a bumbling fool. you can’t help but call attention to it.

“i— uh, what?” he feigns stupidity, though a little gasp gives him away. like he’s trying to stop himself from cumming.

“are you jerking off right now? you little perv!” you accuse him, wiggling around on your bed as a large, seedy smile spreads across your mouth.

eddie harrumphs at that, and you can almost hear his eyes rolling, “well you did kinda call me out of the blue, it’s two in the morning.” he argues, a choked off, strangled sound falling from his lips.

you flush dark. clench your thighs together. god, his strangled and embarrassed little arguments sounded so hot.

and maybe it has something to do with the fact he's inexperienced, possibly a virgin — scratch that, you know he's a virgin. this is hawkins, the girls aren't lining up down the street to fuck the town freak and 'satan vessel', no matter how hot he was.

knowing he's fucking his own fist watching a dirty movie. knowing it's probably something he does most nights when wayne works. craving his own touch because there's nobody else to do it for him. your pussy throbs.

"well don’t let my presence stop you. tell me what they're doing right now," you giggle, cheeks burning as you writhe around on your bed, legs falling open ever so slightly, free hand not holding the phone receiver dipping low on your belly.

the cap of eddie's lube bottle pops open, rattling through your swimming head, the unrhythmic squirting noises a clear indication of how empty the bottle was. it's bold, bold enough to make you wonder if he's even aware that you can hear it.

your ears prick at the loud, faked moaning in the background vaguely, a woman gasping and begging 'fuck my pussy harder!'

"they — they're..." eddie trails off, sighing when he wraps his hand tightly around the base of his cock, squeezing and crying out in relief, "he's got her on, uh, all fours. slapping her ass."

your skin prickles, excitement and arousal thrumming through your veins as your ears catch the slick glide of eddie's hand pumping up his length, "you getting yourself nice and wet?" the smirk is evident in your voice. he whines.

"shit." eddie curses, a shaky little sigh escaping him — he is wet, it's hard to ignore how loud it is, "y-yeah, fucking christ."

you can almost picture how much of a mess he's making of himself. lube dripping down his shaft and coating his heavy, cum filled balls, soaking his hand, a constant stream of precum blurting from the needy head.

he's in the living room, you know he is. it's the only room in the trailer with a tv. you wonder if he was smart enough to lay a towel under himself, or if he's gonna end up in a soaked patch of his own cum and lube.

it honestly makes you dizzy, the guttural noises he's making have you thinking of how flushed his face is, his hazy, heavy lidded eyes glued to the tv set — watching the woman be fucked within an inch of her life, her stretched pussy within eyeshot.

"are you still watching? or are your eyes shut, thinkin' about me bouncing on your dick?" you're nonchalant, lazy with it, drawling on the words — eddie's breath hitches, the rhythmic schlick of his hand coming to a stop.

"y-you — would you?" eddie asks, gasping and arching up into his fist as he starts up again. slowly, not as tight, trying to savour it whilst he can. your voice is sending him hurtling towards the edge far too quick.

"yeah, would climb on top of you and sink down on your fat cock," and you can't help it, your own hand finally slips into your soaked panties, two fingers gliding through your slick lips and pressing on your clit, relieving the dull throb, "you'd love it, eddie. feeling how wet i would be for you, how tight i am."

"mmph," eddie garbles, hips bucking up wildly as he gives up fighting the losing battle, precum leaking uncontrollably from his slit and spilling down his fist, "you'd feel so fucking good."

"i would," you agree, fingers running over your clit in tight, fast circles, heat blooming in your lower gut quickly as your ears are invaded by eddie's whining, the motions of his hand on his cock, "i promise you i'd be so good for you, get you off so quick."

"fuh-uuck, you can't — can't say that, you're gonna make me cum," he's practically crying, voice strained and high pitched, almost totally drowned out by the wet slap of his hand flying up and down his cock.

"was kinda the point," you bristle, slapping your clit slightly and gasping his name — his breath hitches, he breathes a loud gasp down the line, "how big is it? tell me, need to picture it whilst i fuck myself thinking about you."

"oh my fucking god," eddie grunts, working his fist over the head of his cock until he's crying out, the noise shooting straight to your cunt, "i don't— it's six, maybe. thick. my... my own hand barely fits around it."

you catch yourself whining, keening into your hand, hips arching as you rub frantically over your clit, "eddie," you whimper, thighs clenching around your own wrist, "need you splitting me open on it, please?"

"anything, anything you want you can take it," eddie's voice shakes, the slapping of his hand further increasing in speed, and you know he's close before he even says it, "m'gonna cum, you're making me cum, fuck."

the winding in your gut coils tight and snaps all at once, unable to cope with the pretty noises you're eliciting from eddie, and you cry out, a gasp of his name escaping your lips as you reach your high. fingers slipping over your needy, soaked cunt as you cum, whole body shaking with it.

"yeah, yeah," eddie grunts, "can't believe you just came thinking of me — god, feels so fucking good, fuck—"

you hear the telltale sound of the receiver dropping as he all but wails in the background, and you ache to see it, the way he's probably hunched in on himself as his cock pulses, all pretty with his eyes squeezed tight and spit slick lips dropped open.

"fucking hell," eddie pants, and you hear him rustling around down the receiver — he's made a mess, you know he has. probably spurted up his shirt, covered himself in it. you try not to think too much about it, your swollen clit throbbing, "you — i came so hard, shit."

you cackle, cheeks flushing dark as your brain starts to catch up on what just happened, "sorry i interrupted your movie."

eddie chokes out an embarrassed laugh, "don't worry about it, this was — this was so much better than all that staged shit."

you shoot your shot, because fuck it, what's the worst that can happen once your best friend has heard you cum?

"i can show you something much better, if you like? say friday, my place at seven?"

[sm-baby]

Most exciting part of the trailer for the next TADC episode for you?

More so an Analysis rather than things I'm excited about X3

I watched the sneak peek on loop I can process everything! Waahh!! I'm so excited for episode 2 💞 only a few weeks away! 💕

I wanna get this out of the way, I love Lizzie Freeman and Alex Rochon's Improv work on this promo 😭 they were really put in a booth together, were told to say things to promote episode two, and came up with that 😭 Genius.

The environment work is GORGEOUS! I love the look of everything, the world-building, the colors! It looks like a full-fledged movie guys! Absolutely beautiful and WONDEROUS work from the Glitch team-- it's so beautiful for half a year of work??? God damn!!

Haha! As an in-universe creation, Despite his little gags, Caine is genuinely such a good AI to make something so cool!

You'll also notice that Ragatha is taking charge of talking with the princess! That would make sense for such fellow beautiful well-mannered women!

More on them later at the end! :3

Dream sequence theory

Also, we all agree that these ones are all part of a dream right? Pomni is panicked, the strange sort of "slow woozy wobbly" animation exactly like a dream... even the dolly zoom!

Then she is sent to the cellar with a an abstracted arm, but that shouldn't be the case since Caine could easily fix an abstracted arm with a snap of a finger.

And then she wakes up, freaked out!!

Wahaha! Shout out to the Showtime server for pointing this out while we were discussing!

This is either and "end of episode prize" from Caine, or he jumps in mid-episode to hand them a helpful item, ooorr he's telling them that that's their objective for the adventure :3

also!! people have pointed out that Zooble isn't with the carriage with the others! Either this means that Zooble was given a surprise roll in the adventure, or she's off to have a fun solo adventure with Caine! Ohh! How exciting!

Zooble is a favorite character of Goose's, so to learn more about him and why Goose loves them so much would be so exciting!!

Whats up with Jax?

hunched down, writing in the sand, hugging his knees, this topped with Goose's two-word description of the next episode to be "I"m nothing"... Oh Jax is gonna have a MOMENT...

We all know that no one likes the dude and he's going to get worse. I'm unsure if this will make me like the guy, but I'm optimistic!

I'm open to understanding and seeing another side of him that would make me like him! I already quite like how this scene is framed, how lonely he looks, the acting in these few seconds already tells me what kind of guy he is.

...despite one of the gummis being tied up in the corner

If i had to hypothesize, this probably stemmed with Jax acting out, you know, the usual "being a nuisance" to make everyone miserable,

Then It escalates

This gets on Ragatha's nerves, first starting out as a silly "haha cute interaction" between them and it escalates while the episode goes on where Ragatha genuinely gets mad at him and tells him to stay put while they do the work.

Speaking of Ragatha, She seems to be quite fond of the Princess! There is a part of me that wonders if she wants to sort of-- "prove" herself in a way, as a leader or otherwise. Ragatha does give me the "smart yet nice kid in class that everyone copies off of" energy... TwT This poor woman.

I don't know, just the way The Princess bends down and holds her hand, it's sort of sweetly mentorly or motherly in a way. I'm not saying this to infantilize Ragatha, I respect her so much as a mature 30-year-old adult, I say it as a testament to The Princesses' character. Princesses, Queens, and any sort of royalty have been characterized as the sort of "mother/father of all" sort of character type, which is sweet! And would be quite interesting!

I know that people are quick to do the shipping with these two, but I kind of like the idea of Ragatha wanting approval and validation.

BUT THATS JUST A THEORY!! A FILM THEORY!!! ANDDD CUT!!

[stevieschrodinger]

So what if like the thing that makes Alpha and Omega pairs, true mates or whatever, is like a detectable thing that they can test for. And like, everyone has their little blood test at birth and then on say, their 18th birthday, the Alpha gets informed as to who their omega is.

Obviously it's a bit of a sexist deal and lots of Omega and their supporters are trying to get it changed so that both parties are informed, to make it fair, and that is getting some traction but right now, the Alpha gets told and the Omega has to wait for them to show up.

Except when Eddie, fucking excited as all hell to meet his Omega finally, opens his envelope to find Steve Harrington's name starring back at him and Eddie just. He just can't. Steve's one of the biggest bitches at Hawkins high. And even if Eddie can, sort of, get past that, Steve's a snob. He lives in a fucking mansion and has a nice car and preppy clothes and yeah...Eddie is going to get rejected stone cold and that would be fair because he doesn't have a single thing to offer and Omega like Harrington.

Eddie burns the envelope.

And yeah, he can't help but watch Steve a little more now that he like, Knows, but he does his best to put it behind him.

And Steve gets into a fight with Nancy wheelers new Omega, when Nancy gets her envelope, and it's not Steve's name inside and it looks like Jonathan came out on top and Steve...well, he looks beaten and sad and that nearly makes Eddie cave but...no. no.

Right up until he has Steve under his hands, pinned to a boathouse wall with a bottle to his throat and Eddie's been thinking of Steve has his Omega for so long it just kind of slips out. Eddie whispers it, 'Omega' and the bottle drops to the floor and shatters more.

And Eddie has to watch it play out from close range on Steve's face, dawning realisation. Deep hurt. And then anger. An angry shield that comes down as he pushes Eddie off.

"Dustin explain to Munson what's up, I'll be outside a minute.". And Steve just stomps out and there's fuck all Eddie can do about it.

And then he kinda gets distracted by hell dimension stuff. For a bit. And Steve's clearly fucking angry with him and Eddie, well, what the fuck is Steve expecting Eddie to do, right? Steve would never have wanted him in the first place. So Eddie is fucking angry. And it comes out spiteful, calling Steve 'big boy' like he knows it'll rile Steve up. Throwing his jacket at Steve so he will cover up, because he can't bare to look at all the skin Steve is showing, especially with fucking Wheeler hanging around. And if it got something of Eddie's on Steve, well then, it doesn't fucking matter does it? Doesn't mean anything.

And it's not until it's all done, and Eddie wakes up fucking high as a kite on pain meds, with non other than Harrington sitting by his bedside that it all slips out, "what are you doing here?"

Steve shrugs, won't look at him, "waiting to see if my Alpha dies, I guess."

And he just sounds so...bereft. so broken.

"Steve, I just...look-"

"Doesn't matter. You've made it clear. It's fine. And you're going to live I guess so I'll just-" and he's standing, turning to leave.

And Eddie knows Steve now. Sees him with the sheep. Knows he isn't a bitch. Knows he's just...a good guy. Knows he isn't any of the things Eddie thought he was.

"You grew up in a fucking castle." Steve pauses, sitting back in the chair to frown at Eddie.

"What has that go to do with-"

Eddie clears his throat, it's dry and scratchy and hurts but he has to do this. "You grew up in a castle. Nice car. Both parents. Preppy clothes, fucking, shitty fucking jock friends. Steve, you would have rejected me in a heartbeat. I live in a fucking trailer and sling drugs on the side I'm not- I couldn't do that to you."

And Steve just, he just starts crying. He nods, wipes his eyes, "I might have," he admits finally, "I don't know what I would have said...but I needed you. Since then I needed you so much and," he sniffles, wipes his pink nose .

"And I didn't know. I couldn't have and I am so sorry but could we just, now, can we just-" and it hurts like fuck but Eddie bites it down because Steve is half clambered into the bed next to him and yeah. Yeah, that's perfect.

[corrodedcorpses]

Milkshakes

Eddie x reader

Summary: You're being a brat and Eddie puts you in your place in a nice way

Warnings: this is not smut but there are some sexual themes so still 18+!!, reader is a brat, Eddie is a cute dom, light choking, they don't exactly talk about boundaries fully, reader has trouble eating sometimes

Word count: 1.5K

a/n: Idk where this came from but it's completely self indulgent and I've been in a weird mood recently and would love my own personal Eddie to take care of me like this! Hoping this gets me out of my writing slump

Eddie runs his fingers through his messy hair, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips as you stalk past him to the bedroom, slamming the door as you go. You have been in a foul mood since you came over to his trailer. Yesterday you seemed fine, excited even to spend the afternoon with him even, but since you showed up today, just after lunch time, it’s like every little thing he does annoys you. 

You were weird when he hugged you hello, like you couldn’t think of anything worse than his touch, then you complained that he hadn’t been cuddling you enough while you were on the couch together just before. Then he was talking too much about his latest campaign even though you asked about it and then he wasn’t talking enough and it was like he was ignoring you. 

Whatever he did it just got under your skin, he couldn’t win. 

You’ve gotten into these moods before, usually when you want something from him. These moods usually end with you collapsed on the bed, sore and glistening with sweat. Throat and pussy swollen from taking Eddie so well. But he knows this mood is different. 

He leans his forehead against the door you just slammed. Wracking his brain for what to do to get back on your good side. Thinking of all the things you usually like, a lot of them would involve you letting him into the room first… but he does think of one thing, you love going out for milkshakes with him. 

That’s it, he thinks. He’ll take you to your favourite diner and share some milkshakes, maybe even get some food, you could also be cranky if you were hungry and Eddie knows you struggle to eat sometimes. 

Eddie bursts through the door suddenly, excited by his ingenious idea, startling you on the bed momentarily before you plaster the scour back on your face. 

All of Eddie’s excitement seems to vanish as he sees the look on your face, still he pushes through, determined to still have a good afternoon with you.  

“Get your stuff, we’re going,” Eddie says, almost cheerily. 

“What?” you question, unamused. 

“We’re going out,” he reiterates flatly, “get your stuff.” 

“No,” you respond, crossing your arms with a huff. “I’m obviously not in the mood, I’m not going.” 

The action made you look like a spoiled kid. Jesus you could be a brat. 

“Come on, I know you’re not in the mood but can you just trust me?” he was getting frustrated at this point, all afternoon he’d be trying everything just to make you smile, to make you happy and you couldn’t just do this one thing? This one thing he knows would make you at least a little bit happier?

“No, why would I? Your idea is stupid how is going out supposed to make me feel better? You obviously don’t know me at all.” You snap back. 

He shakes his head at you, a mix of a sigh and a laugh leaving his throat. There's no humour behind it. 

“I know you better than you think, princess.” He spits the last word like an insult, it has you seeing red. 

“You don’t know shit Munson. You’ve done nothing but piss me off all day, can you just fuck off?”

Eddie’s not sure what came over him, he was fed up with your attitude, your words reminding him of how much of a brat you would be in other situations, although those were a lot more playful. Still he takes his chances, striding over to you. 

He kneels in front of where you’re sitting, crowding into your space placing his hand gently against your throat. You move away automatically, lying back on the bed as Eddie follows until you’re trapped under him, his fingers giving your throat a light squeeze. You stare into his eyes, usually warm dark orbs now black and hard. 

You’ve seen this look on his face before, just never in this kind of situation. 

“I said,” he tried a again through gritted teeth, “get your stuff.” 

When he’s met with silence he studies your expression. Your mouth is slightly open, your eyes softened and slightly glazed over. You don’t seem alarmed so he continues. He applies more pressure before continuing in a firm tone. 

“I’m getting really sick of this bratty little attitude you’ve had all day and I feel like a milkshake,” he says nonchalantly, “so get your stuff. Now.” 

He keeps his hand on your throat, his eyes darting back and forwarth between yours. You seem to be enjoying this, although you do seem a little surprised. For his peace of mind he has to check, has to make sure he hasn’t crossed a line by taking the dominance he has sometimes used into a more casual setting. 

“Colour?” He asks softly, domineering act faltering slightly. 

“Green,” you breathe in response. Sounding much smaller and submissive than you had wanted. Fully intending to keep up the annoyance that had settled over you all day. 

“Good,” Eddie responds simply, before suddenly standing up again. You feel the loss of his body heat immediately and scurry to grab your things, fulfilling his request before your brain can even comprehend your movements. 

Eddie watches you with a smirk as you slightly stumble around, mind slightly hazy as you gather your things. Once you have your bag slung over your shoulder, you stand up straight in front of him, smoothing out your bottoms as if you’re trying to look presentable for him. 

He grabs his keys and walks outside silently, revelling in the way you follow, hot on his heels. You mentally curse your body for giving in to him so easily. 

Eddie hops in his van as you try to not feel so hurt by him not opening the door for you like he usually does. 

The drive to the diner is quiet, one of Eddie’s tapes playing softly is the only thing cutting through the silence. 

When you arrive you both find a quiet booth, not many people in the diner at this time of the afternoon, the lunch rush having already passed. 

The waitress passes both of you menus but Eddie takes yours from you before you can even spare it a glance. You look at him with a mix of anger, confusion and sadness on your face but he doesn't meet your eyes, he just continues to study his own menu. 

When the waitress comes back over to take your order you’re pleasantly surprised when Eddie proceeds to order most of your favourites from the menu as well as two large milkshakes. 

You continue to sit in silence, Eddie doodling on a napkin while you try to ignore the nagging pain in your stomach. You hadn’t realised just how hungry you were until you knew there was food on the way. You do this sometimes, it’s not like you mean to not eat, sometimes it was just hard to remember to. And you don’t realise how sad and cranky it makes you. 

Your stomach also twists with regret, you feel bad for the way you’ve acted all afternoon, taking all of your weird emotions out on Eddie. And now here he was, taking you to get all of your favourites just to try and make you happy. 

You thankfully don’t have to wallow in self pity for too long before the food arrives. You both thank the waitress before trying your best to not inhale everything in front of you, knowing you'll hurt your stomach if you eat as fast as you want to. 

You’re both about halfway finished when you speak up, guilt and silence becoming unbearable. 

“Eds?” You mumble quietly. 

He looks up at you, finally, with an unreadable expression on his face as he pops another fry into his mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” you say sincerely. 

He sighs, a small smile creeping onto his face. “S’okay sweetheart, you feeling better?” He asks in a tiny teasing tone. 

You nod, blushing. 

You take another bite before asking “hey, how did you know I was hungry? I didn’t say anything.” 

“Well, you were a brat, acting cranky all fucking afternoon,”  he says matter of factly “and you only do that when you’re hungry… or when you wanna fuck.” He adds the last part with a wicked smirk. 

You roll your eyes at him with a smile on your face, but you know he’s right. 

“Next time though, just tell me yeah? You know I love taking care of my girl.” 

You lean forward across the table, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Oh yeah, well I can think of a couple other ways you can take care of your girl.” 

Eddie leans towards you too, “hmmm you’re pushing your luck a bit there babe.” But his tone isn’t serious. 

You continue to stare at him with a smirk on your face, you know you have him. 

“Tell ya what,” he continues, leaning back, “be a good girl and finish all of this and I’ll think about fucking you silly in the back of my van, hmm?” 

You quickly pop a couple of fries in your mouth, earning a chuckle from Eddie. “Okay, master,” you say through a mouthful of food and a cheeky smile on your face. 

Tagging a couple mutuals: @andvys @wroteclassicaly @pxrxcxa @usedtobecooler @eddiemunsonfuxks @parkermunson @translatemunson @hammity-hammer @littledemondani @prettyboyeddiemunson

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Summary: Thanksgiving brings back memories of happier times, and all you want is to recreate the past. But when those plans go awry, Eddie--and Harris, of course--are there to help you look forward to the future.

Warnings: mentions of Eddie's parents, brief familial conflict, Reader's grandma has dementia, most of this chapter is fluffy tbh

WC: 6.8k

Chapter 8/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @vexed-n-hexed Divider credit to @saradika

Thanksgiving, 1975

The sound of the kitchen timer beeping draws nine-year-old Eddie Munson’s attention from the television set. The local news network had been replaying the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on a loop. It was now the third time that Eddie had watched Santa Claus make his way into Herald Square in a comically oversized sleigh, but he couldn’t get enough of it. The colorful balloons that hovered over the crowd, the marching bands playing in perfect unison, the feeling of excitement in the air—it was palpable all the way from his new home in Hawkins, Indiana. 

“Dinner’s ready,” Wayne announces, grabbing the worn mitt off of the counter and pulling two TV dinners from the oven. “‘S not much, but at least we got turkey and mashed potatoes,” he bashfully adds. 

Eddie nods, trying to walk without taking his eyes off of the screen. 

Wayne’s bushy brows pinch together as he watches his nephew. “You always get this into the parade?” he asks. 

“Never seen it before,” Eddie says softly. His parents had had a TV for a couple of years until they’d pawned it, but he doesn’t recall ever watching a parade. “Pretty cool.”

“We can keep it on while we eat, if ya want,” Wayne tells him, smiling when he sees the boy’s face light up. He places the plastic trays on the snack table and heads back to grab forks. “Ya got a favorite balloon? I’m partial to Snoopy, if y’ask me.”

Eddie nods, still transfixed on the TV. “Yeah, Snoopy’s good. I like him.” He takes the utensil from Wayne’s outstretched hand, absentmindedly dipping it in the congealed mashed potatoes. He pauses for a beat before bringing it to his lips. “Do I have to go back?”

“Hm?” Wayne mumbles, too focused on his own food to fully hear him. 

“Do I have to go back with them when they get out?” Eddie repeats, keeping his voice low and training his gaze on the floor. “‘Cause I like it better here. With you. ‘S nice and quiet.”

There’s a lurch in Wayne’s chest at Eddie’s request. “Technically, I only have ya till your folks are sprung,” he admits, scratching a nail against the table, “but I can talk to a lawyer or somethin’ about keeping you here longer. Only if you want,” he adds. 

“I wanna stay here,” Eddie confirms, spearing a pale turkey slice and popping it in his mouth without any attempt to cut it. “If it’s okay with you. I can sleep on the cot an’ you can take your bed back.”

Wayne shakes his head. “Room’s yours, Ed.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t wanna promise you that the courts will agree to it, but I’m gonna try my damndest to keep you safe.” And it’s true. He’ll work double overtime at the plant if it’ll cover legal fees. When the social worker dropped Eddie off last week, Wayne had no idea how either of them would adjust. But aside from a few growing pains—like having to shave his nephew’s head when they’d discovered he’d had lice—things seemed to be alright. 

“I, um, I wrote something at school yesterday,” Eddie pipes up, traipsing to his backpack and pulling out a sheet of paper. In his sloppy, boyish handwriting is written:

I am thankful for my Uncle Wayne because he takes care of me. He’s really nice and he works hard and he doesn’t mind that I listen to loud music. He also lets me feed my dinner scraps to the stray dogs in his trailer park. My Uncle Wayne is the best. I hope he’s thankful for me, too. 

Wayne feels his throat constrict, and he clears it before Eddie can catch on. “‘Course I’m thankful for ya, Ed,” he manages. He reaches out to put his hand on his nephew’s back, flinching when the boy jerks away nervously. Eddie’s reflex to defend himself rather than embrace touch stirs up a reserved anger Wayne didn’t know he had, and he wills himself to simmer down before his nephew can sense it, lest he think he’s angry at him.  

He slowly brings his hand to the couch cushion, careful not to make too much noise. We’ll get there, he thinks as the parade starts up for a fourth time. We’ll get there. 

Thanksgiving, 1978

Ten years old is a strange age. 

Too old to play with the little kids, but too young to hang around the teenagers or adults. You’re just kind of…there, like a piece of furniture that everyone absently walks around. This hiss of beer cans opening is barely audible over the men shouting at the football game on TV. You don’t know who’s playing, and you don’t really care, but it’s the only place you feel like you’ll be out of the way. Taking a seat on the floor, you remain there generally unnoticed until one of your uncles calls out your name.

“Couldja get me a refill?” Uncle Tim slurs, shaking his empty can of Bud Light to emphasize his request. Before you can respond, he throws a, “thanks, kid” and goes back to yelling at the football players.

It’s not like they can hear you through the screen, you snidely think, but you keep your comment to yourself as you pad into the kitchen. A collection of spices tickles your nose, the mixture of cloves and garlic and thyme and rosemary warming the room. You rummage through the refrigerator until you feel someone bump up against you.

“What are you doing in there?” Your aunt asks, disapproval carving her already sharp features. Her gaze drops to the can in your hand. “Seriously? Trying to sneak beer right in front of us?” she scoffs. 

Grandma quickly becomes aware of the commotion, and she wipes her hand on her sunny yellow apron as she assesses the situation. “Everything okay?” Her soft eyes are concerned, not accusing, and you feel your anxiety slowly dissipating.

“I caught her trying to steal some beer,” your aunt reports proudly, as though she’s caught some serial offender, and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Not even a teenager yet and already getting into this kind of trouble.” She shakes her head with a tsk. 

“No, I wasn’t,” you insist, setting your jaw in defiance. “Uncle Tim asked me to get some more for him. That’s all.”

“Tim!” Grandma calls out, tone thick with irritation. “Get over here!”

 Uncle Tim trudges out to the kitchen, head already hung low in anticipation of the tongue-lashing he’s about to receive. He may be a grown man, but his mother can easily put him in his place.

Grandma folds her arms across her chest. “Why are you having your niece fetch your drinks like a barmaid? Your legs broken or something?”

“No,” he mumbles, taking the beer from your hand and haphazardly tossing a “sorry” in your direction before returning to the game.

“C’mere,” Grandma beckons you, crooking her finger to join her at the counter. She’s got a bowl of Granny Smith apples, half of them peeled, their green skins piling on the cutting board in front of her. She hands you the peeler, picking up a sharp knife and cutting a peeled apple lengthwise and cubing each slice. “Help me out. It goes a lot faster when there’s two of us. And it’ll keep you out of trouble,” she adds with a wink.

You grab an unpeeled apple from the pile and drag the tool down its curve, repeating the motion until the inner fruit is exposed before starting on the next one. You and Grandma work in tandem; you peel and she chops in a comfortable silence. As you’re finishing up the last of the bunch, she leans over and whispers in your ear, “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re the best helper I’ve ever had.” She starts placing the cubed pieces into a pot, shaking the cinnamon container over it until she takes a satisfied step back, no measuring spoon required. “Mix it together for me?” 

You nod eagerly and pluck the wooden spoon from the canister behind the sink, dunking it into the pot and stirring until the apples are fully coated in cinnamon. “That good?” you ask, giving another stir for good measure.

“Perfect.” Grandma smiles, covering the mixture with water and setting it on an empty burner, twisting the knob until the coil turns red. “Once it softens up, you can mash it. Give these old arms a break,” she teases gently.

“You’re not old!” you protest, and she smacks a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you, kiddo,” she murmurs, voice muffled against your scalp. “To the moon and back.”

You wrap your arms around her waist and squeeze her tight. “I love you, too. To the moon and back.”

Thanksgiving, 1996

“Daddy, look! It’s Santa!” Harris points at the TV excitedly, bouncing up and down on the couch. He kicks his feet and squeals. “He’s gonna come to our house, right? An’ bring me presents?”

Eddie chuckles as he spreads mayonnaise on white bread, layering thin turkey slices on top. Three sandwiches for three Munsons. “I dunno, Har-Bear; have you been good this year?” 

Harris scrunches up his face in contemplation. “Um, I think so,” he answers honestly. “I can’t remember.”

“Hey, Wayne?” Eddie calls out as his uncle walks out of the bathroom. “Has Harris been good this year? I feel like he’s been a bit…mischievous.”

Wayne shakes his head. “My angel of a grandson? He’s never caused mischief a day in his little life!” He sits down next to Harris, letting out a small grunt as his bottom hits the sofa cushion. 

“Yeah! I never cause mischief a day in my little life!” Harris echoes confidently. He turns to his grandfather. “Grampa, what is Santa gonna bring you for Christmas?”

“A toupée,” Eddie says from the tiny kitchen, piling their plates with potato chips. Normally, he’d make sure there was a fruit or vegetable on there, but it’s a holiday. 

Wayne has to hold his tongue in front of the impressionable young boy, though he shoots Eddie an inconspicuous middle finger when he’s setting the plates on the coffee table. 

The three Munsons tuck into their sandwiches and crunch on the chips. This is how Thanksgiving has been since Eddie moved back with Harris: watching the parade followed by an early lunch so Wayne could pick up a shift at the plant. He always insisted on it, saying that the holiday pay helps offset the cost of Christmas presents. It was quiet, but nice, and Eddie couldn’t ask for anything else.

“Y’know,” Wayne says to Harris with a mouthful of sandwich, “the first time your Daddy watched the parade was with me. And now, we got to watch it with you.” He bumps his arm against Harris’s, making the boy giggle. 

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie muses, chomping on a potato chip thoughtfully as the memories flood back in. “Forgot about that. Is Snoopy still your favorite, Old Man?” 

Wayne considers this. “Hmm. Who’s our favorite balloon this year, Har?”

“Clifford!” Harris answers without missing a beat, kicking his little legs in excitement. Eddie should’ve known; the boy was damn near obsessed with dogs.

Once we can afford a house with a yard, I’m getting you that puppy, Har-Bear, he thinks, though he doesn’t dare make the promise aloud.

“Then that’s mine, too.” Wayne brushes the crumbs off of his lap, calloused hands scratching the worn denim of his jeans. There’s a twinkle in his eye as he adds, “I wonder what Ms. Sweetheart’s favorite balloon is.” He acts like he’s speaking to Harris, but Eddie knows it was aimed at him.

Harris claps his hands together gleefully. “I know! Let’s call her!” He turns to Eddie with the sweetest puppy-dog eyes the man has ever seen, lower lip jutted out exaggeratedly in the most precious pout. “Please, Daddy? Pleasepleasepleaseplease–”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says with a laugh, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Once you finish up lunch, we can call her.” Harris opens his mouth to protest that he wants to call right now, but Eddie cuts him off before he can start. “Ah ah; no whining, or we won’t call.”

Harris harrumphs but ultimately complies, taking another bite of his food. Wayne gives Eddie a small thumbs-up, and he preens slightly at the acknowledgment of his parenting win. They didn’t happen very often, and they rarely happened when someone was around to witness them. He takes a long gulp of water; as soon as he does, his son lifts his own cup to his lips and takes a sip. Another reminder that he’s watching, even subconsciously, wanting to be just like his dad.

For a split second, Eddie allows himself to believe that that might not be a bad thing.

“‘M done!” Harris chirps; sure enough, his plate is clean, save for the bread crusts. He squirms a bit in his seat, a gesture that Eddie has come to learn means only one thing.

“Go pee while I find her number,” Eddie tells him, purposely omitting the fact that he’s already committed those seven digits to memory. In case of an emergency, he thinks, and I don’t have the slip of paper on me.

Wayne can sense that his nephew isn’t being completely truthful; as soon as Harris closes the bathroom door behind him, he starts in with a shit-eating grin.

“Y’don’t need to find her number, do ya?”

Eddie flicks off an imaginary speck of dust on his shirts. “Knock it off, Wayne.” But he doesn’t move from his spot on the couch, further affirming his uncle’s point.

“Look, Ed,” Wayne exhales, adopting a more serious tone. “You clearly like this girl. I mean, all Harris did was say her name and you smiled–don’t give me that look,” he chastises lightly when Eddie rolls his eyes. “I know you two didn’t exactly get off on the right foot, but all that seems to be in the past now, right?”

“Guess so,” Eddie mumbles. “But not hating me doesn’t mean she’s into me. Maybe she’s only being nice to me because of Harris.”

The older Munson pauses, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks; his reflex when he’s deep in thought. “One date,” he challenges, holding up his forefinger to emphasize his point. “Ask her on one date, and see where it goes.”

“Fine,” Eddie relents, the nerves already churning in his stomach. You’d just found this good rhythm together, and he was going to risk messing it up. Again. “I’ll ask her. But on one condition.”

“Whas’ that?”

“Don’t say anything to Harris.” He crosses his arms over his chest when Wayne chuckles. “‘M serious, Wayne. I don’t want him getting his hopes up. For Chrissakes, I gave her a tape and the kid had us getting married.”

“Fair enough,” Wayne agrees, clamping his mouth shut when he sees the little boy enter the room. “You wash your hands?”

“Yep!”

“With soap?” he presses, narrowing his eyes.

Harris heaves an impatient sigh. “Yes! Can we call now?”

Both Wayne and Harris keep their eyes glued to Eddie as he punches in the numbers. When it starts ringing, he holds out the receiver to his son. “Say hi and your name when she picks up,” he reminds him, grateful for the opportunity to collect himself before asking you on a date. He takes a deep breath, shoving his hands in his pockets and gnawing on his lower lip so forcefully that he swears it might bleed.

You got this, Munson. The worst she can say is no.

But that’s not quite true, is it? The worst you can do is laugh in his face, leaving him a rejected mess. Scratch that–the worst you could do is accept the date, have him fall head over heels in love with you, then leave him in the dust to pick up the pieces while you move on with someone better. 

Maybe you won’t pick up the phone. Maybe he’ll have more time to–

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!”

It was a small thing. Miniscule, even. Just your meager attempt at reclaiming part of the past that had been lost to time and disease. A simple family recipe, apples boiled and mashed into a sauce that you’d hoped even vaguely resembled the way Grandma made it. A tiny cut on your fingertip serves as a battle wound from peeling, the sweet aroma of cinnamon still lingering in the kitchen.

You try to convince yourself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just applesauce. But the thought falls flat as you stare into the trash can. You can still see all of your work literally tossed away through the tears that blur your vision.

You’d left the room for two minutes, two goddamn minutes, and when you came back, the plastic pink bowl that held the applesauce was nowhere to be found. You could’ve sworn you left it on the counter, but maybe you’d already put it away? A quick scan of the refrigerator gave you nothing but a chill. Where the hell did it go? Were you losing your mind?

A rogue apple peel had fallen to the floor, and you scooped it up, flustered at how you could have misplaced an entire bowl of applesauce. Sure, it wasn’t as much as when you and Grandma made it for the whole family, but it was still a decent amount. Your foot presses the pedal that lifts the bin’s lid, and that’s when you see it.

“Grandma?” you choke out, looking over to where she’s sitting on the couch. She doesn’t respond, and you raise your voice a bit to grab her attention. “Grandma, why did you throw out the applesauce?”

Her empty gaze briefly flits over to where you’re standing, not even registering the burgeoning frustration and sadness coursing through your veins. “Wasn’t me,” she says flatly, scratching at the side of her nose with a jagged nail. Before dementia, her nails were always painted bright hues of red or blue; now, it was difficult enough to get her to leave the house for essential doctor’s appointments. You weren’t going to put up a fight trying to get her to the salon.

You know you should just close the lid and walk away instead of torturing yourself by continuing to look, but your feet are glued to the linoleum floor. A cold drop of something lands on your toes, and that’s when you realize that you’re crying. Crying over goddamn applesauce.

All you wanted was some semblance of normalcy, something reminiscent of life before Grandma got sick and your family still felt whole. But what you got was a thickening realization that you can’t relive the past, no matter how hard you try.

The ringing phone startles you from your wallowing. You have half a mind to ignore it, but you know that Grandma will just grumble about how she hates the sound of it, so you pick up the receiver and answer with a shaky, “H-Hello?”

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!” A little voice chirps through the other end. You can hear Eddie mumbling something, though you can’t quite make out what he’s saying. “Happy Thanksgiving! What’s your favorite balloon?” There’s more hushed speaking from Eddie, and Harris huffs out, “Daddy, stop! I know what to say!” 

“My favorite balloon from the parade?” you ask, biting back a giggle. 

“Mhm! I like Clifford,” he tells you.

You’d kept the parade on in the background, catching glimpses of it every now and again. Shit, what balloons did you see? “Clifford’s a good one,” you agree, “but I think the Rocky and Bullwinkle one was my favorite.”

Harris laughs so loudly that you have to pull the phone from your ear. “The squirrel and the moose?” he guffaws. “Ms. Sweetheart, that’s so silly!” You’re about to ask him how his holiday is going when he says, “Hold on, my daddy wants to talk to you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of talking to Eddie, and you wipe the tears from your wet cheeks as though he’ll be able to see them through the phone.

“Hey, Happy Thanksgiving!” he says. Something resembling trepidation tinges his tone, though you’re not sure why. Could he still be anxious to approach you after he confided in you at the parent-teacher conference? After he’d watched you panic when Grandma locked herself in her room?

You swallow, trying to choke down the sadness rising within you. “Yeah, y-you, too.” Despite your best efforts, your voice breaks on the last word, and you hope Eddie doesn’t catch it.

But of course he does.

“You okay?” he asks with a nervous chuckle. “‘Cause it kinda sounds like you’re crying.”

“‘M fine. Just, um, chopping onions,” you lie, hoping you’ve done a convincing job.

“For the…applesauce you’re making?” Eddie sees right through you; you’d forgotten that you’d told him and Harris about your plan during your weekly post-tutoring dinner last night. “Not gonna lie, that sounds even nastier than olives on pizza.”

You manage a laugh, but it’s disfigured by the catch in your throat. “The applesauce was a bust, unfortunately,” you admit. “I left the kitchen for a second and Grandma chucked it in the trash.”

“All of it?” he asks incredulously, letting out a deep exhale when you confirm that she did, in fact, throw out the entire bowl. “Jesus H. I’m so sorry. Is that what’s got you upset?”

“Mhm. I know it’s stupid, ‘s just applesauce, but–”

“‘S not stupid,” Eddie interrupts softly, and you twist the phone cord around your pointer finger with the sudden drop of his tone. “I know you were really looking forward to it.” He pauses, and you wonder for a moment if the line’s gone dead before he says, “We’re coming over. Me and Harris. Be there in twenty; fifteen, if I don’t have to argue with him about wearing a jacket.”

Before you can protest, he really does hang up. You look down at the baggy sweats and college t-shirt you’re wearing; you weren’t expecting any guests today, let alone the Munson boys. You should probably throw on some actual pants, and a bit of mascara couldn’t hurt, either.

You find a pair of jeans that aren’t buried under a mountain of laundry and tug them over your thighs before quickly swiping some makeup on your face. It’s enough to mask your exhaustion while still looking natural.

It dawns on you that you’re not quite sure why you suddenly care so much about your appearance. Harris couldn’t care less, and Eddie…well, even if Eddie did care, why would that matter to you? He’s your tutee’s parent; a new friend at most. On more than one occasion, you’ve answered the door to Jess with a wicked case of bedhead. Why does Eddie Munson of all people make you feel the need to look halfway decent?

When the buzzer sounds, you nearly jump out of your own skin. “It’s us,” Eddie says into the speaker; the smoothness of his voice has your stomach in knots. “And we come bearing gifts. Well, one gift, I guess.”

“Fuck off,” Grandma mumbles from the couch, cranking up the TV volume to an ungodly loud level. One of the Law & Order detectives says–no, screams–something about a murder, and you quickly reach for the remote and click the power button.

“We have company,” you tell her, and she just grunts in response. Hopefully her mood will change in the minute it will take Eddie and Harris to get to your apartment. You can hear them down the hallway, so you open the door just as they’re about to knock.

Eddie takes a step back in surprise. “You psychic or somethin’?” he laughs, looking down at his son and giving him a small nudge. “Go ahead, you can give it to her.”

Your gaze drops to the curly-haired boy standing by his father’s side. He’s holding a brightly colored package of off-brand Oreos, which he brings closer to his chest, pressing it tightly against his zippered sweatshirt. “It’s s’posed to be a surprise,” he reminds Eddie, wide-eyed with genuine concern.

“Only until we got here,” Eddie says gently, soft brown eyes encouraging Harris to hand you the cookies. He brings his attention back to you. “I know it’s not the same as making applesauce with your grandma, but I’ve never been sad eating an Oreo. An oatmeal raisin cookie, maybe. But not an Oreo.”

Now it’s your turn to smile. “You may be onto something here, Munson.” You take the package from Harris and guide the two of them to the kitchen, calling out to Grandma as you pass by. “Grandma, Eddie and Harris are here, and they brought cookies, if you wanna join us.” Her non-response is familiar at this point; the sting is much easier to brush off than it was a few short months ago. But you still feel it.

Even though Grandma isn’t at the table, Harris still climbs onto his dad’s lap. “Daddy, can I have one?” he asks, resting his dimpled chin on his palms as he glances upwards.

“Gotta ask Ms. Sweetheart,” Eddie shrugs, tickling Harris’s ribs and loudly whispering, “and ask her if your poor, hungry dad can have one, too. She can’t say no to you.”

You open the package and shake your head at his antics, sliding out the flimsy tray and offering it to them. “Of course you can have one, Harris,” you say, tone saccharine sweet. His chubby fingers darting out and snatching up a cookie before you even finish your sentence. “But I don’t know about your dad. Do you think he should get one?”

“C’mon, Har,” Eddie urges him, “us men gotta stick together. All for one and one for all, right?” He flexes his bicep; it’s an attempt to emphasize the manliness that supposedly bonds him and Harris, but the gesture has your breath catching in your throat. You sputter and cough embarrassingly, excusing yourself to pour a glass of water. 

“Anyone else want?” you manage once you can speak again, holding up the ceramic pitcher. 

Eddie nods, lifting Harris from his lap and placing him on the nearest empty chair. “Here, let me help you.” He stands up and calls out over his shoulder, “Grandma, how about some water?”

You’re about to tell him not to worry about it, but to your surprise, she nods. “Ya.”

“So, four waters,” Eddie reports, taking the pitcher and refilling your glass. 

You grab another just like it from the cabinet before taking two blue disposable ones, plopping a bendy straw in each. “Grandma, um, she needs stuff that isn’t breakable,” you explain lamely. “And the other plastic one is for Harris.”

Eddie grins. “Thought it was for me. Y’know, always making a mess.”

“Ah, but only of your life,” you tease. “You’re pretty good with basic human functions.” Your face burns at what you’ve potentially implied, but Eddie isn’t fazed. 

“Y’know what? I’m gonna take my cookies back!” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest in mock-indignance. A piece of curly hair sticks to his lower lip with his sudden movement, and you brush it away with your thumb before you can stop yourself. 

The crinkling of the fake-Oreo package draws both of your gazes, with Eddie poised to tell Harris that he’s only allowed one more. But to your surprise—and perhaps Eddie’s, too—Harris isn’t the one rifling through the tray. Grandma’s taken a seat next to the boy, handing him a cookie before taking her own. She just nibbles on it in silence, but it’s the most present she’s been in days. 

“Y’like Oreos, Grandma?” Eddie asks, pouring water into the two plastic glasses and carrying one in each ringed hand. He places them on the table, and Grandma brings the straw to her lips as she nods again. He pauses for a moment, lips tucked into his mouth as he ponders something. “What kind of music does she listen to?” he asks you. 

“She has a record collection over in the living room,” you tell him, pointing to the low bookshelf near the door, “but we haven’t played any in awhile. She’s kinda…weird with noises.”

He considers this, walking over to the records and thumbing through them until he finds one that he recognizes. “Could I put this one on?” He holds up the battered copy of Frank Sinatra’s It Might As Well Be Swing. “I’ll take it off if she gets upset. I just wanna try something.” He carefully slides the record from its sleeve, lifting the player’s needle and placing it on the space for the first track. 

There’s a soft static as the record starts to spin, and Ol’ Blue Eyes croons: 

Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like

On a-Jupiter and Mars

Eddie joins in with the next part. His voice still carries its signature rasp, but it’s noticeably smoother, warmer than the night he’d dedicated the Def Leppard song to you. 

In other words, hold my hand

In other words, baby, kiss me

His eyes remain trained on the record player, but you swear you can feel the lyrics drifting towards you. The melody wraps around you like a hug, and you momentarily lose yourself in a musical embrace. 

Another voice, low and timid, chimes in. You have to stifle a gasp when you realize that it’s Grandma, her lips curling into the smallest of smiles–the most joy she’s shown in a long while–as she half-sings the words. 

Fill my heart with song

And let me sing for ever more

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, and before you can exhale the third syllable, the world shifts back to normal. Grandma goes back to mindlessly munching on her cookie as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. You turn to Eddie. “What was that?”

He shrugs, suddenly feeling shy. “I read somewhere that music can, like, bring back some memories. Not permanently or anything, but I figured it was worth a shot.”

You can’t stop yourself from flinging your arms around Eddie’s neck, nearly knocking him over in the process. He pauses before he returns the gesture, pulling you tightly into him. One hand is on the small of your back; the other gently rests on the back of your head, allowing you to rest your forehead on his chest. Your tears flow freely, leaving tiny wet spots on his shirt. He doesn’t let go until you start to pull back. 

“Thank you,” you whisper; when he pinches his brows in confusion, you elaborate. “You gave me back a little piece of who she was before…” you trail off, swiping at your cheeks messily. “Just…thank you.”

Eddie nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes are practically glued to your lips; this time, when his fingers brush against your palm, he hooks his pinky with yours. “‘Course,” he murmurs.

You’re not sure how long the two of you remain linked like this, joined hands swaying ever-so-slightly as Fly Me to the Moon fades out to I Wish You Love. It’s somewhere between ten seconds and ten years, because time seemingly slows to a halt. 

You might stay with pinkies hooked forever if Harris doesn’t bolt from his chair, hugging your waist and looking up at you with concern. 

“Ms. Sweetheart?” he asks. His wide, misty eyes indicate that he’s absorbed some of the emotion in the room, though he may not even be aware of this. “Why are you sad?” His chubby fingers grab onto the fabric of your pants.

You choke out a tearful laugh as you crouch down to meet him at his level. “I’m not sad…well, I’m sad and happy at the same time,” you try to explain, shaking your head when you realize you’re only adding to his puzzlement. “Grown-up feelings are weird sometimes, Har. But your hugs definitely help.”

With that, he squeezes you tighter, and you glance at Eddie with a full heart. He takes a step forward, scooping up Harris. You worry that you’ve crossed a line, that you’ve shown too much of your vulnerability to a four-year-old, but your fears are subdued when Eddie extends one arm and brings you back to both him and his son. Something brushes against your scalp, and you realize that he’s pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. 

Harris squirms, and when Eddie puts him down, he runs over to the TV set. “Can I watch something?” It’s clear that the moment has passed, and Eddie throws you an apologetic shrug as he waits for your response.

“Sure,” you say, trying to pepper cheerfulness into your voice. It’s easier now that the wave of loneliness has passed, taking with it some of the mourning you’d clung to earlier today. You click on the TV and flip through channels until a familiar cartoon appears on the screen. “I think we’re just in time to watch A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving!” you exclaim, and Harris mirrors your enthusiasm by flinging himself onto the couch, making his dad cringe.

“Careful, little dude,” Eddie says, clicking off the record player and gently placing the vinyl back in its sleeve. “You just got that cast off a few days ago. Don’t need you to break another bone.” Certainly don’t need another hospital bill, he thinks bitterly. He takes the spot next to Harris, silently begging you to join them. 

You turn to the kitchen table and put a hand on Grandma’s shoulder. “You wanna watch Charlie Brown with us?” But she rejects your invitation with a simple shake of her head, mumbling something about being tired and padding into her room. 

You take the empty space to Harris’s left so that the boy is sandwiched between you and his father. He’s a small kid, but it seems like there’s an entire ocean separating you and Eddie. 

“Why’s Lucy so mean?” Harris asks no one in particular. “She’s always yelling. Like Ms. Marion.” You have to stifle a giggle at that observation, and when you allow yourself a glance, you see that Eddie’s doing the same. 

The first half of the movie is filled with Harris’s constant commentary; he speaks more than all of the cartoon characters combined. But he tires out eventually, though in typical four-year-old fashion, he denies his sleepiness even as he’s yawning. He fights it pretty well, you’ve got to give him credit where it’s due, but eventually, the exhaustion takes over and he lays his head on your arm. His curls tickle your elbow, and you gingerly reposition him so he’s tucked up against your side. 

“You can move him over, if you get uncomfortable or somethin’. Kid sleeps like a rock. Except, y’know, when I need him to sleep.” Eddie snickers as Harris lets out the softest, tiniest snore. 

You return the laughter and shake your head. “Nah, I’m good,” you reassure him, smiling at the ruddy cheek pressed against you. “Don’t tell my other students, but Harris is the cutest kid ever.”

Eddie shrugs, but you can tell that the compliment tickles him. “Well, it makes sense, since his dad is a total stud.” He waggles his eyebrows before turning his attention back to Charlie and Lucy. You’re not quite sure how to respond to that; if you play it off as a joke, you risk hurting his feelings. If you tell him the truth–

“D’you like coffee?”

His sudden, seemingly arbitrary question snaps you from your indecision. “I teach four-year-olds,” you reply lightheartedly, hoping he can’t sense your mind continuing to linger on his stud comment. “I practically have coffee running through my veins. What about you?”

“I have a four-year-old, so, same.” He clears his throat, seemingly double-checking that his son is still sound asleep. His leg is bouncing up and down, and he nearly has to press on his knee to get it to stop. “Um, Harris is going to a birthday party next Saturday morning if you wanted to get some with me? Get some coffee, I mean.” He silently chastises himself, wondering if he’d ever been suave around women or if it had just been the unearned confidence of a young man in his early twenties convincing him that he had. 

“Like...like a date?” Fuck, do you sound too eager? “Because if you feel like you owe me a date after…after our night at the bar, you don’t have to. I forgave you after you gave me those M&Ms, remember?”

“Yeah…wait, no. Hold on.” Eddie holds up his pointer finger as he collects his thoughts. He could deny that it’s a date altogether and throw out some bullshit lie about it just being something between friends. But he promised Wayne, promised himself that he’d give this a shot.  “Yes, I’m asking you on a date. No, it’s not because I feel like I owe you one–although I definitely do,” he adds with a goofy grin that sends flutters to your stomach. “It’s because, fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and how happy you make me–and Harris, too–and how I get kinda nervous around you, which makes no sense because you’re, like, the nicest fuckin’ person ever. Oh my God, why can’t I stop talking?”

“Eddie.” The way you say his name is like a song he could replay forever. “I’d really like to get coffee with you. I just need to see if someone can watch Grandma…maybe Jess,” you surmise, biting back the fact that you’ll have to withhold your date’s name, lest she subject you to a lecture about sleeping with the enemy.

Eddie nods, swiping the tip of his tongue over his lower lip and smiling. “I can pick you up at noon? If Jess can watch Grandma, of course.”

“Noon works.” You want to kiss him right then and there; if Harris wasn’t nestled in the middle of you both, you might not hold back. “I can let you know on Wednesday when we have dinner together.”

Eddie’s not sure he can wait that long for an answer. What if you’re just buying time to get out of it? What if you’re only being nice to him because you’re afraid that he’ll get angry again and reignite the bitter feud you’d been locked in just a month ago? He swallows the insecurities, gaze flickering to your eyes.

And maybe it’s because you can sense his unease and self-doubt, or maybe it’s because you genuinely want to–Eddie doesn’t know for sure–but he feels you lace your fingers with his, resting your joined hands on his thigh. He shifts his grasp to weave them tighter together, learning back into the couch and allowing his body to relax. His shoulders let go of tension he hadn’t realized he was holding on to, and a contented sigh slips from his lips.

It’s you, him, and Harris. Sitting on the sofa and watching a holiday movie. An unconventional little family, but a family all the same. Eddie swears that he could stay like this forever, a thought that almost has him bursting out in laughter. The same man who had concocted an elaborate method to keep women around without actually committing to them was now reveling in domestic bliss. 

When the movie ends and Harris begins to rouse, Eddie begrudgingly stands with an exaggerated groan. “These old bones, y’know,” he laments with a mischievous click of his tongue. “Everything starts fallin’ apart when you turn thirty.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, lifting Harris onto his hip and rubbing his back to help him fall back to sleep. “I know.” He grabs his keys from the shelf near the door as you walk them out. And before he can wimp out, he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss, stubble scratching against your skin. His hands are trembling when he pulls away.

“You’re the best,” he repeats the same statement he’d made on parent-teacher conference night. It’s even more true now than it was then. “We’ll see you on Wednesday for pizza?” And an answer, hopefully a ‘yes.’ “Wednesday,” you echo, still processing the fact that, for the second time today, Eddie Munson’s lips have been on you.

--

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

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@quentinswife @eddiesguitarskills @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday

[ashwhowrites]

I have a request basically you remember when Robin saw Vickey and her bf kissing in a store and was devastated yeah so basically after that she ran head first into reader and soon enough they start dating and a few months/weeks later the roles are reversed and Vickey walks in on Robin and reader doing the same thing in the volunteer center/hawkings high

For the sake of the story, lesbians can kiss in public

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Miss moving on

Robin and Steve tried to move fast as the group waited in the stolen trailer, but Robin stood frozen in her spot. She could feel her heart slowing down as Vickie's lips pressed against a boy. Robin didn't have any proof that Vickie was gay, but she had so much hope.

Steve stood behind her with a pitiful expression, landing a comforting hand on her shoulder. His touch made Robin jump out of her trance, Vickie now looking her way. Robin turned around and began rushing out of the store, but then she hit something.

or someone

"OH MY" the voice said as their bodies made contact. Robin felt her butt smack against the floor and her cheeks flame in embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry, are you alright?"

Robin looked up to see a girl holding out her hand. But not just any girl, a gorgeous girl. Robin took her hand, blushing harder as the girl easily yanked her to her feet.

"Are you okay?" The girl asked again, worry in her eyes as Robin still hadn't said a word.

"Oh..uh...yeah" Robin stuttered

"Good, would be a shame to see a pretty thing get hurt," the mystery girl said before she walked away.

Robin stood shocked as Steve threw his arm over her shoulder, "Sorry about Vickie" He led them back to the van.

~~~

Weeks passed and all Robin thought about was the mystery girl who she truly believed hit on her. No straight girl would randomly say that. The images of the beautiful girl flashed through Robin's head repeatedly, Vickie so far gone.

Robin begged Steve to drive her back to that store, praying the girl might be there again. It was the only place and only chance.

"Good luck!" Steve yelled out the open window as Robin walked into the store. She wandered around, keeping her eyes on the lookout. She felt her heart speed up with excitement when she saw the girl again. She was looking at the shelves, and Robin took a deep breath.

Robin moved to stand next to her, pretending to look at the same shelf, her eyes going to the side to look at the girl. Robin tried to think of something to say but hated that she kept drawing blanks.

"Oh hey! I know you," the girl said, a huge smile on her face as she turned to look at Robin

"Oh hi!" Robin said, her voice cracking as her face flushed.

"I didn't catch your name last time," the girl said, holding out her hand. "My name is Y/N."

Robin swore that was the most beautiful name she had ever heard.

"Didn't catch me last time either!" Robin joked, cringing once it left her mouth. "I mean...uh..Robin"

Y/N laughed at her dumb joke and shook her hand

"It's nice to meet you, Robin"

~

Steve was listening to music when Robin yanked open his door. A huge teeth-filled smile on her face as she got in the car.

"GOT HER NUMBER!" she screamed

~~~

After the events of the upside down, Y/N and Robin barely had time to start their relationship. But they both knew one would start the second the world was upright. Robin cursed the timing of Vecna and the events that followed. But before the world went to hell, they had a few dates and shared a few kisses.

Now, Robin and Steve were at the school, volunteering to help the families that lost loved ones when Hawkins split into two. Steve was sorting through clothes but kept looking up at Robin. She stood nervously as she waited for Y/N to show up. Y/N was a kind heart and volunteered the second Robin said she'd be busy with volunteering. Robin couldn't wait to spend time with her, even if it was preparing meals.

Steve smiled as Y/N walked up behind Robin, tapping her shoulder.

Robin smiled once her eyes met Y/N's.

"Hi" Y/N smiled

"Hi" Robin whispered

They were both lost in their own world as they looked at each other. Blushing and softly bumping each other as they prepared sandwiches. Small conversations turned into soft whispers.

"You know with the world almost ending, I had a hard pill to swallow," Y/N said, biting her lip

"Of what?" Robin asked

"Not getting to kiss you" Y/N admitted, shyly looking over at Robin as she put down the knife. She wiped her hands on her jeans.

"Oh" Robin blinked, Y/N watched as her freckled cheeks began to redden, "well" She swallowed, "You could do it now"

"Yeah?" Y/N whispered, leaning in as her hands landed on Robin's hips.

"Yes" Robin whispered

The girls leaned in and their lips connected. Robin felt like her heart was exploding as she gripped Y/N's elbows.

Steve watched with a proud smile

And Vickie walked in at the wrong moment. Her heart slowed down as she watched Robin's lips smash against a girl she had never seen before. The two were kissing each other like no one else was around them.

Robin moved on, and Vickie realized her feelings too late.

[eddywoww]

Thinking of a Steve who has a “my body is all I have” mentality

It starts because of the upside down, obviously. All he can do is try to protect these kids, try to protect this family that he’s made. He doesn’t know what else to do because he’s spent the majority of his life being made into a puppet for his father. He’s never been seen as smart, he’s never been seen as capable. But he can fight and take care of people and so, Steve is his body. As long as he can move, he can help.

I think this has the potential to twist on its head for him. He’s too emotional, he’s too needy in every relationship he attempts. So if he’s too much, how can he ever be enough? But he has his body. He has his sexuality, he was his charm. He knows how to use it, who to use it on. Even if it’s clunky at best sometimes, he can still manage. But then he feels like just a body again. Like he’s this figurine for people. He’s nice to look at, nice to spend a night with. But that’s about it. So he would adapt to that. “My body is all I have.” And it’s a joke that he makes, something sly and funny. Because obviously he was a slut growing up, right? Everyone knows that. It’s fine because it’s funny that he slept with soccer moms, it’s funny that he slept with cheerleaders, it’s funny that he could seduce someone if he really wanted to.

It’s so funny that everyone else makes jokes about it too.

And Robin tries to get them to stop but Steve can be convincing when he wants to be. It’s fine, he’s okay. He doesn’t mind.

But somewhere deep inside, he does mind. It twists again, like a knife to the stomach. Because after all the pain, after rebuilding their world, Steve is no longer just his body. His body hurts. He has scars. His hearing isn’t the same, his eyes get blurry every morning and he needs glasses now. Sometimes he limps when it storms too much. He’s not just his body because now he thinks his body is bad. What use is he if he can’t fight? What use is he if he’s not attractive enough to pull someone in with looks alone? He’s stained and he hates it because before he was just a body but now he’s just a mess.

Eddie sees it. He sees it and notices it because he feels the same way but not the same at all. He’s insecure and always has been. Too loud, too excited, too much this, too much that. He just is. But surviving something horrific, being pulled from the flames of the supernatural…it leaves a mark that lasts longer than any scar ever could. He’s not as chatty, not as funny. He becomes just a body in a different way. His personality feels sapped, he feels like the ghost of his former self. He just is.

He tries for Dustin, for all the kids. But he knows they can tell that something is off about him, that he’s one hundred shades of fucked up.

So, of course they see each other through it all. Different ends of the spectrum. Eddie, who feels like he’s walking through life as an intruder. Steve, who feels like he’s had everything he’s worth taken away from him. They talk about it. They sit out by a nearby lake and talk about how deep the black hole inside them feels, how badly they just want to wake up and have it be gone. Erased, washed away. Steve shows Eddie his scars and Eddie does the same and it’s cliche but it feels good. Lit under moonlight as they use too much bug spray, unwilling to just go home. Unwilling to invite the other one over because then it’s Something. Then it Means Something.

But eventually they would cave. Eddie would bring Steve to his new trailer, the one they got with hush money. He’d smoke with him, play him some records. Steve would confess as much as he could about how he feels like he lost his worth, how he’ll never amount to anything. Eddie would talk about how he isn’t the same and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get back to who he was.

Neither of those things are true, neither of them hold weight.

But they’ll heal together. They’ll talk it out again and again and they’ll use kinder words each time and they’ll start living life like they used to, only not quite the same. It’ll take time and adjustment but eventually, Robin will see the difference and she’ll be able to breathe again because she felt like she was losing not only her best friend but the guy that came along with him in the end.

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

I hate you, too

Summary: Ruby is your acting rival as well as your sworn enemy. When you’re cast in the same movie, you struggle with the fight choreography, an area which your co-star excels at. What will you do when you have no choice but to swallow your pride and ask her for extra help?

Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader

Contains: mature language, some adult humor, kissing, angst, enemies to lovers, slow burn, forced proximity, walked in on while changing, non-sexual knife play, clumsy!reader, publicity tweets, there was only One Trailer

Word Count: 6.6k (told you it’s a slow burn)

A/N: This is a Real Person Fiction, RPF Guidelines still stand. Morally, I refuse to write smut for Ruby Cruz. That being said, I miss writing smut!! Dying to write some Kit Tanthalos smut after this, if anyone has a request feel free to send it in. That being said, Ruby is always super fun to write for, and I hope y’all enjoy! :)

———

If you never saw Ruby Cruz again, it would be too soon.

You first encountered her shortly after moving to Los Angeles to pursue acting. During a meeting with your agent to discuss a contract, she entered unannounced, as if the office belonged to her.

“Hey Estelle, I’m here to pick up the ‘Mare of Easttown’ audition sides,” she stated, barely glancing in your direction.

Estelle handed her a stack of papers before introducing you. “This is Ruby Cruz, one of my regular clients. You two will likely be seeing a lot of each other.”

Ruby finally turned toward you, assessing you with her bright blue eyes that seemed to pierce through your soul. She gave you a curt smile, and offered her hand.

“Nice to meet you. Estelle’s the best; you’re gonna love her.”

You shook her hand as Estelle chuckled at the flattery, shaking her head and modestly dismissing it.

“Ruby has an audition next week for that ‘Mare of Easttown’ show… which reminds me! I think you could also be a good fit for that. We can discuss more later, but for now, let me at least get you the audition sides.”

Estelle began to gather nearby papers into a stack, stapling the corner before handing them to you. Excitement bubbled in your chest at the thought of acting in a show as notable as ‘Mare of Easttown.’

Ruby hummed, clucking her tongue as you flipped through the stack of papers. Glancing up at her from your seat, you could have sworn you saw her eyes squint, almost as if she now saw you as nothing more than competition.

“In that case, hope you break a leg.”

With a wave goodbye to Estelle, she left the office. You couldn’t place it at the time, but something about her tone felt… off.

The audition came and went, and it was just your luck that Ruby ended up landing the role. Of course, it became her breakout role, one that juiced up her resume and propelled her career.

Initially, it didn’t bother you that much; after all it was just one audition. However, given that you were both conventionally attractive actresses in the same age range, Estelle frequently recommended you for the same roles. You began to see her face at every single audition, and frankly, you were sick of it.

That’s not to say you lost every role to Ruby Cruz; sure she was your competition, but you both had your share of the limelight. She was Hazel Callahan in “Bottoms,” and you were Harper McCallington in “Out & Uncool.” While she was busy filming for “Willow” as Princess Kit Tanthalos, you starred as Empress Kian Thorne in a limited series entitled “Cottonwood.”

You were a tad jealous that Ruby landed a continuing series while yours was limited, so when you found out about “Willow” being abruptly canceled after one season, you couldn’t help but revel in the schadenfreude.

Despite your individual successes, you harbored a deep dislike for Ruby. Yes, she was pretty, with pale blue eyes and dark hair that offset her ivory skin, but watching her stride into every audition wearing that all-too-familiar smug smile only fueled your resentment and made your blood boil.

Several months after moving to LA, one particular audition day commenced with a morning from hell. You woke up groggy with your hair in a rats nest, and spent the majority of the morning battling with the bathroom mirror in an attempt to render yourself presentable. Once you could actually run a comb through it, a quick glance at a clock revealed you were running late. Hastily, you grabbed your resume, poured some of your roommates' leftover coffee into a travel mug, and dashed out the door in a race against time.

Curses flew out of your mouth while you sat in the infamous LA traffic, fingers tapping anxiously against the steering wheel while your eyes darted towards the clock.

Arriving at the audition site, you parked haphazardly and rushed to the entrance, coffee sloshing against your mug with every step. Pushing open the doors, you immediately caught sight of the very person you knew you would see but secretly wished you wouldn’t.

There was Ruby, sitting in the waiting room, too focused on studying her audition material to even notice you had walked in. She wore a white blouse with floral patterns, jeans, and white converse—an undoubtedly effortless outfit that looked so good on her, it genuinely annoyed you.

Shaking your head, you tried to push aside any thoughts of Ruby and focus on the audition. As you stepped towards the sign-in table, your notorious clumsiness struck as you mis-stepped and tripped over your own foot. Fortunately, you managed to catch yourself before face-planting, but you lost control of your mug, ending up spilling coffee all over your sworn enemy.

Ruby stood up in shock, the lukewarm liquid staining her white blouse and smudging the ink on her papers. She lifted her head, glaring at you with narrowed eyes.

“What the hell!” She exclaimed.

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open in shock. “Shit, Ruby, I’m so…”

“You did that on purpose!”

The brewing apology halted at her accusation. Indignation swelled within you, and the urge to defend yourself took over.

“Excuse me? It was an accident! Jesus!”

“You don’t think I know you don’t like me?” She spat back. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?”

By now, everyone else in the waiting room was watching the two of you, while the stage manager at the sign-in table desperately tried to de-escalate the situation.

You felt your face flush at the unwanted attention as you attempted to lower your voice. “Ruby, I may not be your biggest fan, but I would never do something like that on purpose.”

“Oh please, I know your type. You would do anything to land a role, even if it’s underhanded!”

“For fucks sake, Ruby!” You rolled your eyes, exasperated at this conversation. “I land roles just fine on my own. Not everything is about you!”

“You’re seriously standing here telling me that ‘not everything is about me’ when you’re the one who ruined my blouse right before an audition?!”

“What is the meaning of this?!”

You and Ruby turned your heads toward the unidentified voice to see what appeared to be the director of the project standing in the doorway. He peered down at the two of you with an icy glare, while the stage manager stood next to him with her arms crossed.

A gulp involuntarily forced its way down your throat. You looked over at Ruby, who stood frozen with all the color seemingly drained from her face. Both of you waited with baited breath for the director's next move as his nostrils flared.

“Both of you. Out. Now.”

“There’s good news, and bad news.”

You and Ruby stared at Estelle from across her desk, shame and embarrassment radiating from the both of you. Last week's altercation at the audition made headlines on LA Twitter news, prompting her to call an emergency meeting to discuss next steps.

“You already know the bad news,” Estelle sighed. “Word got out about your little ‘stunt.’ As of right now, neither of you have great reputations in the Hollywood eye.”

Estelle turned to look directly at you, making you shrink in your seat. “Not many people want to work with an actor who would sabotage another actor’s audition to get a leg-up.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself but immediately closed it upon seeing the look on Estelle’s face. She looked away from you, focusing her attention on Ruby next.

“And no one wants to work with a hothead who causes scenes and goes on public cursing sprees.”

Ruby squirmed under Estelle’s scrutiny, looking down at her lap to avoid eye contact.

Estelle leaned back in her chair, glancing back and forth between the two of you. “Fortunately, there is some good news.”

Your ears perked up at this, curious as to what kind of good would come out of this kind of publicity. Glancing over at Ruby, you noticed she raised her gaze while still keeping her head lowered. Estelle continued.

“Another director caught wind of the situation and contacted me immediately. Apparently, he’s been toying with this idea for a movie about two rival mafia bosses who go undercover as high school cheerleaders. He is adamant that the two of you play the leading roles.”

Shock painted your features as you attempted to process what Estelle just told you. You looked over at Ruby, who seemed just as bewildered as you.

“So, this director wants to work with two people who can’t stand each other?” She inquired.

Estelle shrugged. “I’ve been told he’s very… method. Authenticity is everything to him, no matter what the consequences. Still, people say to trust his process because he’s extremely brilliant.”

She pulled out a couple business cards and handed them to the both of you, his name in thick black font jumping out from the white background.

Calvin Cunningham. Film Director.

Calvin Cunningham turned out to be quite the character.

He was brutally honest, always saying exactly what he thought of something. He engaged with the cast and crew as if they were his best friends, but if something wasn’t up to his standards, he never hesitated to voice his dissatisfaction.

His methods were eccentric and unusual, with an unwavering commitment to authenticity. They were unorthodox, but if they proved to be effective, he couldn’t care less about the cost.

On the first day of shooting, after being given your trailer assignment, you were about to go inside when you saw something that made you stop dead in your tracks. There, hanging on the back of the trailer door, was a big gold star with two names engraved into it.

Yours… and Ruby’s.

Outraged, you turned and marched towards Calvin, only to find him already in conversation with a head of loathsome brunette locks.

“This has to be some mistake,” cried Ruby. “I can’t share a trailer with her!”

“Ditto.” You piped up, moving to stand next to your rival.

Calvin shook his head. “No mistake. You guys can’t stand each other, and I want to maintain that energy throughout filming. I figured some forced proximity could help to fuel that fire.”

“Please, Calvin. I will literally share with anyone else,” you pleaded, words falling on deaf ears as Calvin simply turned and walked away from the two of you.

Ruby turned to glare at you with shrunken pupils, and you reciprocated with a side-eye right back. As you both began your way over to your shared trailer, you couldn’t help but acknowledge: this might be the first time you and Ruby actually agreed on something.

Filming was going well, all things considered. You and Ruby spent your days on set, hashing out all your hatred towards each other in front of the camera, and then pretty much ignored each other otherwise.

Changing could be slightly awkward, given the shared trailer, but you and Ruby had an unspoken agreement to keep to yourselves. Nevertheless, the trailer was a tight space, allowing you to see everything within your peripheral vision. Despite your disdain for Ruby, you couldn’t help but admire the delicate curve of her tapered waist and how it contrasted against her toned stomach. Even you could appreciate how her hair became disheveled every time she lifted a clothing item over her head, prompting her to shake it out until her short tresses tumbled over her shoulder.

You chalked it up to vanity, but sometimes you swore you caught her checking you out from the corner of her eye, too.

One day, while checking your schedule for the upcoming week, you noticed a choreography rehearsal planned for the big knife fight scene towards the end of the movie. Dread immediately consumed you, settling in your stomach like a boulder reaching the bottom of a hill.

It wasn’t because you were worried about getting into a knife fight with Ruby; you knew the weapons were harmless props and posed no threat to your safety. You dreaded any kind of choreography rehearsal, as you were notoriously an uncoordinated klutz. It was like you bore a curse of delayed reaction times and two left feet—a burden that weighed on your shoulders like an anchor.

On the day of the rehearsal, you walked into the stunt room to see Ruby already there, stretching in yoga pants and a crop top that hung just below her ribcage. Calvin stood in the corner conversing with the choreographer, Lucas: an effeminate man with a muscular build that offset his short stature.

Minutes after you started stretching, Lucas blew his whistle, calling you and Ruby over to the center of the room.

“Hey guys! Hope you’re as excited as I am to do some fight choreography.” He chirped, flashing a toothy grin.

While Lucas spoke, your attention shifted to Ruby. She stood confidently, her hands resting on her hips as she listened for instructions. You rolled your eyes. Of course she was confident, she had plenty of combat training during “Willow,” and even more during “Bottoms.”

As much as you hated to admit it, this was one area where Ruby outshone you.

“In this scene,” Lucas explained, handing each of you a prop knife labeled with your characters names. “Quinn and Gia both realize they’re from rival mafia families, and draw their weapons at the regional cheer competition.”

You turned the knife over in your hand, running your thumb over the “Quinn” sticker on the handle. “Is this… a real knife?”

Lucas nodded. “Yes, but it’s been dulled for your safety. Don’t worry.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing your lack of coordination posed less of a threat now.

Lucas continued. “For the first part, Quinn, advance towards Gia with the knife raised, like you want to slit her throat. Gia, sidestep and dodge her attack.”

You positioned your knife and lunged at Ruby, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding after she successfully avoided the blade.

Lucas nodded in approval. “Great! Now Gia, advance towards Quinn with your weapon, and she’ll block and engage.”

Ruby lunged at you, but when you tried to block her attack, the knife slipped from your grip and fell from your hand. Your face flushed as you stared at the blade, now lying on the plush mat.

“What was that?” Calvin interrupted, still watching from the corner of the room.

Lucas shot him a sheepish grin. “It’s ok, Calvin. It’s just the first rehearsal.”

Calvin grumbled incoherently as you bent down to pick up your knife. You noticed Ruby’s lips curl into a subtle smirk at your mishap, provoking an eye-roll from you.

“Let’s try that again,” Lucas stated. “This time, Gia, why don’t you try advancing a little slower?”

Ruby nodded, and moved towards you seemingly in slow-motion. This time, you managed the block successfully and engaged your weapons without issue.

Lucas beamed in approval. “Great! Let’s move on.”

He went on with instructions, leading you through the engagement of your weapons. Despite the slow pace, you repeatedly made a fool of yourself throughout the entire rehearsal. Sweaty palms hindered your grip on the knife, and you even managed to confuse your left from your right. Calvin stood fuming in the corner, while Ruby’s initially smug demeanor gradually turned into one of annoyance.

“Alright,” Lucas started, wiping his brow and forcing a tight smile. “For this last part, Gia, focus on disarming your opponent, and then tackle her. Quinn, this should be pretty easy. All you have to do is keep yourself open and fall.”

You gulped and assumed the ‘ready’ position, locking eyes with Ruby. She advanced, carefully redirecting your blade before grabbing your shoulders to push you onto your back. Unfortunately, as you were going down, a misstep caused you to lose your footing. Your arms flailed out of instinct, and in the search for stability, you inadvertently dragged the blade across Ruby’s cheek, leaving a bright red cut in its wake.

Startled, she hissed and dropped you onto the mat, hands moving to cradle her injured cheek. “Ouch! What the hell?!”

Calvin and Lucas rushed to Ruby’s side while you stared at your freshly-bloodied knife and tried to process what had just happened. “I thought you said they were dulled!”

“Well yeah, but they’re still real knives!” Lucas exclaimed, moving Ruby’s hand to see the cut.

A stream of apologies flew from your mouth immediately, but Ruby only responded with an icy glare and Calvin mumbled something about the makeup artist before storming out of the room. A lump rose to your throat as you blinked back tears, humiliated and filled with guilt. Once again, your clumsiness managed to ruin things for the people around you.

As you got up to leave the room, you looked back and met Ruby’s gaze. This time, instead of annoyance or anger, her face held only a look of pity as she watched you walk away.

At the end of the day, after you and Ruby were no longer needed on set, you found yourself standing outside your shared trailer, hands wringing in anticipation for what you were about to do.

Despite your best efforts, you knew your struggle to grasp the fight choreography was impeding production. Ruby, on the other hand, excelled at stage combat. You needed the extra practice, and Lucas had already gone home. After several hours of contemplation, you resolved to set aside your pride and seek help from your sworn enemy.

With a deep breath, you entered the trailer. Ruby was already inside, dressed in yoga pants and a sports bra, clearly in the middle of changing. You felt your cheeks flush as she spun around, revealing a neon green band-aid on her right cheek.

“Ever heard of knocking?” She spat, covering herself defensively.

Your brows furrowed in disbelief. “It’s my trailer too!”

She scoffed, turning around to finish putting her shirt on. You sighed, knowing the odds were already not in your favor.

“Fine, I’m sorry,” you began, prompting her to look back at you, puzzled. “Not about the trailer, but about the knife, and the coffee, and just… everything. I know you think I’m out to get you, but I’m not, I’m just really accident-prone, and for that I’m sorry.”

Her gaze softened slightly, and she nodded, silently accepting your apology. You continued, avoiding eye contact for what you were about to ask.

“Listen… I need your help.”

Your words took her by surprise. “With what?”

“Fight choreography,” you pressed. “I know we don’t really get along, and I wouldn’t ask if I had literally any other option, but you’re incredible at stage combat. Please, I could really use the practice.

“No argument there,” she snarled. “But why should I help you?”

“Because we’re co-stars, if I look good, you look good. Besides, do you really want to risk another one of those?” You gestured to the band-aid on her cheek.

Ruby touched the bandaged wound, wincing from the pain.

Defeated, she groaned. “Fine, I’ll help you, but only on two conditions.”

She stepped closer until she was inches from your face, close enough that her warm breath grazed your skin. You felt the sharp jab of her finger in your chest as she locked eyes with you.

“First, during training, you do everything I say, exactly as I say it. And second…” she moved back, crossing her arms with a smirk. “…you owe me a favor.”

“Okay,” you shrugged. “What do you want?”

“I’ll let you know when I think of something,” she replied. “As of right now, we have a fight to train for.”

You followed her to the stunt room, now fully unoccupied as most of the crew had gone home. Ruby switched on the lights and made her way to the props table while you took your spot on one of the mats.

“Hmm,” she scrunched up her nose as she picked up the knives you had used to train earlier. “I really don’t trust you with a weapon right now. No offense.”

“None taken,” you replied, pleasantly surprised at the lack of offense.

Ruby moved around the room in search of a safer substitute. She ended up at a supply cabinet, and sifted through it until she proudly held up a miniature pool noodle.

“Noodles!” She announced, grabbing one and handing you another.

“Perfect,” you exhaled, relieved.

Ruby assumed the ‘ready’ position across from you while you mirrored her stance, gripping the pool noodle as if it were your knife.

“Alright,” she started. “Why don’t we skip the exposition, since there’s no issues there. Let’s jump to the weapon engagement.”

You stepped forward, engaging with Ruby’s noodle. She nodded in approval before continuing the choreography.

“Left, right, no… right. Wait… do you not know your left from your right?”

Embarrassed, you dropped your gaze to the mat. “I do… I just… have to stop and think about it sometimes…”

Ruby chuckled, rolling her eyes. “I am totally going to give you shit about that later, but for now, let’s just work on muscle memory.”

She moved behind you, reaching around to take hold of your wrists before leaning into whisper. “Is this ok?”

A shudder traveled down your spine as her breath tickled your ear, a subtle expression you prayed she didn’t notice. “Y-yeah… you’re good.”

The way her fingertips brushed so gently against your skin felt like a million tiny shocks of electricity, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why.

“Left, right, left-left, right,” she guided your dominant hand through the movements. “Over, under, around and right.”

She repeated the sequence once more before letting go of you, stepping back to observe. “Show it to me.”

You demonstrated flawlessly, earning a beam of approval.

“Good. Let’s move on.”

From there, Ruby continued to guide you through the combat sequence in its entirety, stopping repeatedly to work out the kinks and offer helpful tips. She taught you where to hold your body weight so you didn’t stumble, and even showed you how to look like you fell on purpose, if necessary. As much as you hated the girl, you had to admit, she was a pretty good teacher.

Eventually, after hours of training, you reached the last step of the routine. Both of you were drenched in sweat and panting hard, but determined to make it to the end.

“Now…” Ruby rested her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. “Last but not least: the fall. So to start, I push down on your shoulders…”

She placed her hands near your collarbone and gently pushed, causing your arms to flail and smack her with the pool noodle. Immediately letting go of you, she took a step back with her hands up. You froze, expecting her to yell at you, but to your surprise she threw her head back in laughter.

“And that…” she pointed to the band-aid on her cheek “…is how this happened.”

You forced a nervous giggle in response as you stared at her hysterical disposition. Her laugh was crisp, almost melodic, like windchimes in a summer breeze. You weren’t quite sure what she found so funny; perhaps she was so tired from the long rehearsal, she collapsed into a state of hysteria.

Ruby calmed down after a minute or two, wiping away a tear as her breathing subsided. “So, I’m guessing you don’t like having your shoulders touched?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that. I guess it just feels constricting to have someone pushing me while I’m trying to fall safely.”

She clicked her tongue, seemingly deep in thought. “Hmm… why don’t we modify it a little bit? I could push you by your hips, let you fall, and then pin you down.”

“Can we do that?” You asked, concerned about getting into trouble again.

“Yeah, it’s not a huge change. I’m sure Lucas won’t mind. Besides, actor safety is always number one priority… and that includes my own.” She gestured to her cheek again with a lopsided smirk, prompting you to grimace apologetically.

You centered your body weight as she approached you, grasping your sides before letting her fingers wrap around your hip bones. She met your eyes, searching for approval.

“Better?” She asked.

Your voice came out hoarse, almost a whisper. “Yeah. Much better.”

“The most important thing,” she explained, “is to keep your body open.”

She moved her hands from your hips up to your arms, positioning them until they were spread out on each side, as if you were preparing for a big hug.

“When I disarm you, move your arms to the side like this. That way, you’ll have more control over a fall, and I’ll have less chance of getting cut.”

You nodded in understanding as she took a step back, preparing for the attack.

“Slow motion, ok? No rush.”

She carefully walked towards you and grabbed your hips, pushing with gentle pressure. Keeping your body open, you fell safely to the mat, back flat on the floor and arms spread out to your sides.

Ruby stood over you wearing a look of pride and satisfaction before offering out her hand to help you up from the mat.

“Wow,” she exclaimed with a breathless chuckle. “I’m a really great teacher.”

You rolled your eyes at her familiar cocky attitude. “Mhm… so, is that it?”

“Not yet. One more time, from the top. Let’s put it all together.”

“Full speed?” You asked, getting into position.

She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, breathing heavily as she moved to stand across from you. “Don’t you dare hold back.”

On her count, you lunged at her with your noodle before she sidestepped and dodged the attack. She reciprocated with an advance of her own, prompting you to block it and successfully engage your props.

“Left, right, left-left, right,” she called out. “Over, under, around and right.”

The two of you continued sparring, each movement now pristine and polished. Droplets of sweat scattered from your skin as your props flew at lightning speed, every advance met with a clean block or countered with the appropriate attack. It was like your bodies were in perfect sync, months of built up tension finally surfacing to glide seamlessly through combat.

As you reached the end of the routine, Ruby expelled your weapon, disarming you and prompting your arms to extend. She seized your hips, fingertips pressing into your plush sides, and pushed until you could fall safely. Back now flat against the mat, she crawled on top of you, straddling your hips while planting her hands on either side of your head.

Time seemingly froze as Ruby hovered above you, keeping you trapped underneath her. Her face was close, so close that you were panting into each other's mouths. You stared up at her, noticing her bright blue eyes had turned significantly darker, and you swore, just for a split second, you saw them glance down at your lips.

“You…” she panted, breathless. “Y-you…”

Your heart pounded in your chest, flustered from the mix of adrenalines. “W-what about me?”

“You… you smell… so bad.”

With that, she immediately picked herself off of you, leaving you lying in a heap on the mat.

Annoyed and confused, you sat up to glare at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she turned away from you and cracked her back. “We’ve been in here for awhile, and you really need a shower.”

“Look who’s talking,” you spat back. “Your hair is literally sticking to your forehead!”

She reached up, awkwardly brushing her hair out of her face while mumbling something incoherent. It was like the air around you had suddenly turned thick with tension, neither of you daring to speak up for fear of saying what you were both thinking.

You decided to break the silence. “What time is it?”

Ruby glanced at her watch. “Almost 1am.”

“Shit,” you responded, not realizing it had gotten so late. “Guess we should…”

“Yeah,” she cut you off.

Without another word, the two of you gathered your things to leave for the evening. On the way out, neither of you offered a “bye” or “see you tomorrow,” but both of you turned to glance back when the other wasn’t looking.

For the remainder of the week, you and Ruby avoided each other like the plague, but not necessarily in the way you had previously. Before, there was always a palpable negative energy looming between the two of you, something Calvin could exploit for the cameras. Now, your scenes read awkwardly, both of you too preoccupied the events of the other night to properly engage in animosity.

This shift in dynamic didn’t go unnoticed by the cast and crew, especially Calvin, who never hesitated to hide his frustration. He desperately sought chemistry, and realized that forcing you to share a trailer wasn’t cutting it anymore. At this point, he was willing to do whatever it took to reignite that spark.

One day, Calvin informed you that lunch would be served in the stunt room. It seemed odd, food being served in the industry equivalent to a trampoline park, but Calvin typically had some rationale behind his unconventional ideas, so you didn’t question it.

When lunch break rolled around, you walked into the stunt room to find it completely dark and empty, aside from Ruby, who stood in the center of the room looking confused. Upon seeing you, she froze.

“Uh… hey.” She muttered, pointing her gaze to the floor.

“Hey yourself,” you replied awkwardly. “Uhm, did Calvin tell you lunch was being served here?”

“Yeah, actually,” she furrowed her brow, glancing around the room. “But I haven’t seen any caterers or anything.”

“Weird, I wonder why he would-“

Suddenly, you were cut off by a door slam, followed by the sharp click of a lock. You and Ruby stared at each other, panic-stricken on your faces before rushing to try the door handle.

“What the… hey! Let us out!” Ruby shouted, pounding on the door after the handle wouldn’t budge.

As you watched Ruby struggle against the door, realization hit you like a ton of bricks. “Calvin!”

“What are you talking about?” Ruby growled.

“Think about it,” you explained. “He’s been frustrated with us all week, our scenes have sucked, he lied to both of us…”

Giving up on the door, Ruby leaned against it and turned to glare at you. “You think he locked us in here on purpose?”

You shot her a knowing look. She groaned frustratedly, squeezing her eyes shut and throwing her head back against the door.

“That is exactly something he would do,” she exclaimed.

“Someone’s going to sue that man one day,” you huffed.

Ruby snickered in agreement. “Why don’t we?”

“Pretty sure that would require us to actually talk to each other.”

Silence fell between the two of you, as what was supposed to be a lighthearted joke turned into you accidentally addressing the elephant in the room.

“It’s not like we ever talked much before…” Ruby muttered, breaking the silence.

“That’s not true,” you argued. “We used to bicker constantly. Now we’re just… weird.”

“This whole week has been weird.” Ruby agreed.

“Why?” You pushed, squinting at her. “You helped me out with a fight scene, and now we’re like two twelve-year-olds at a middle school dance. How does that make sense?”

“I don’t know! I just…” Ruby sighed exasperatedly, and put her head in her hands.

Your gaze softened as you realized the brunette was struggling with her words. Usually, she radiated confidence, an attribute of hers that made you burn with jealousy. Now, she exuberated hesitance like you’d never seen, with her body backed up against the door and her face covered with her hands.

You took a step towards her, and spoke softly. “Ruby, you and I both know we’re not getting out of here until we start talking.”

Realizing you had a point, Ruby groaned and dropped her hands. She refused to look you in the eye, instead opting to stare at your feet while she searched for the right words.

“When we were… fighting,” she began, chewing on each word as if it were molasses. “There was a moment where… I had you pinned…”

She swallowed involuntarily at the blatant description. Your face flushed, but you nodded in an attempt to coax more out of her.

“I was looking down at you… and… I guess… I just realized… maybe I don’t… hate you… as much as I thought I did.”

The moisture drained from your mouth as her confession caught you completely off guard. Half of you had the urge to make fun of her, and the other half just wanted to grab her shoulders and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

Instead, you decided to probe on. “You don’t?”

“I don’t think I ever did,” she confessed in a half-whisper. “I never really got to know you before, I think I just… saw you as competition. I mean, you were at every audition, how could I not? I think my mind just filled in the blanks? I don’t know.”

“Well, what do you know?” You asked, moving closer and causing her breath to hitch as she was caught between you and the door.

“I think… no, I know… you don’t… hate me either?”

She apprehensively searched your features for an answer, as what was supposed to be a statement came out as more of a question. You nodded, prompting her to exhale in relief before continuing.

“I know that I don’t have to see you as competition. I know that it may have taken me a while to realize it, but the time we’ve spent together on set has been the best month of my life. I know that I hate feeling vulnerable, so if you ever tell anyone about this I’ll deny it… and then I probably actually will hate you.”

You chuckled at her joke, and she began to relax as a warm smile spread across her face. By now, you had moved close enough that your faces were mere inches from each other, and you could just barely hear her breathing over the pounding of your heartbeat.

“So… what now?” You asked, secretly hoping for one specific answer.

She glanced down at your lips, eyeing them hungrily as she hesitated. “I, uh… I think I know… what I want that favor to be.”

Your eyes widened, surprised at her sudden bold demeanor. But as you gazed at her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, and eyes filled with a mixture of longing and apprehension, you knew there was nothing in the world that could stop you from fulfilling that favor.

Grabbing her jaw, you brought her face closer and crashed your lips together. A small gasp escaped her lips at first, but she soon grasped at your sides and started to kiss back. Her lips were soft, but her kisses were rough and passionate, something you weren’t surprised at given her usual fiery personality.

Her middle finger wrapped around one of the belt loops on your jeans, giving her leverage to pull you closer to her. A quiet whimper erupted from the back of your throat, the feeling of her body pressed against yours being enough to make your knees buckle. You grabbed onto the back of her neck for support, simultaneously pulling her towards you even more and spurring moans of approval from your newfound lover.

Eventually, you pulled apart, both of you gasping to catch your breath, but neither of you letting go of the other. As you stood there, wrapped in Ruby’s embrace, you couldn’t help but survey her features. Her eyes had darkened from overwhelming desire, and her lips were pink and puffy, coated with your saliva. Her originally shiny brunette locks were now disheveled, stray hairs sticking out from the static electricity of being thrust against the door.

She was a mess, but in that moment, you swore you had never seen anything more beautiful.

A breathy chuckle left her parted lips, breaking the silence. “I, uh… I was actually just gonna ask if you knew how to pick a lock.”

Your jaw dropped in shock as you stared at her, completely dumbfounded. “Are you serious?”

She shook her head no, erupting into laughter at her own joke. You glared at her, unamused, but soon found yourself stifling a giggle. Enemies or otherwise, Ruby was always going to be a sarcastic hothead, and nothing could change that.

“Wow…” she sighed breathlessly.

“I know…” you agreed. “Guess we should thank Calvin, huh?”

Ruby began to chuckle before her eyes suddenly widened in horror. “Shit, Calvin!”

“Yeah?” You questioned, confused at her change in demeanor. “What about Calvin?”

“He casted us together because we hated each other,” she whisper-screamed, eyes darting between you and the locked door. “Everything he’s done has been to fuel the fire: forcing us to share a trailer, locking us in here! He wants us to hate each other, he doesn’t care what it takes! If he finds out about this…”

Panic washed over you as your mind swarmed with possible things Calvin would do to taint your relationship if he found out about your feelings for each other.

“Shit,” you exclaimed. “What do we do?”

Ruby pursed her lips, deep in thought as she racked her brain for ideas. Suddenly, as if a lightbulb went off in her head, she turned to you with a wicked grin.

“We’re actors,” she replied. “We act.”

Gripping your shoulders, she walked you backwards before letting go and returning to her original position. Confusion painted your features; you didn’t know what Ruby was up to, but you were curious to find out.

“You are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met,” she exclaimed loudly. “In fact, you’re the last person I’d ever want to be stuck filming with!”

Her sudden shift in attitude left you puzzled and a little hurt, but you quickly understood her intentions after she shot you a sly wink.

“Oh yeah?” You retorted, playing along. “Right back atcha! In fact, if I never saw you again, it’d be too soon!”

Ruby stifled a laugh before quickly getting back into character. “I hate you!”

“I hate you more!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

At this last remark, the sharp click of the lock sounded again, and the door swung open. Calvin stood in the doorway, a huge ear-to-ear grin spread across his face.

“Welcome back, you two.”

He left the door open, and motioned for you to follow him out. You started to exit the room, but as soon as Calvin’s back was turned, Ruby grabbed your wrist and spun you around to capture your lips in hers once again.

A sharp inhale echoed against the back of your throat as she took you by surprise, but you pulled her close and kissed her back in a heartbeat. This kiss was different from the last, with the newfound excitement mixing with the terrifying prospect of being caught. The rush of adrenalines had never tasted so sweet.

Ruby pulled back with haste, immediately looking over her shoulder to make sure Calvin didn’t see. When the coast was clear, she turned back to you with half-lidded eyes.

“I hate you,” she muttered, a goofy grin spreading across her face.

You giggled, covering your mouth to suppress the sound before leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“I hate you, too.”

[trashmouth-richie]

the boy is mine // ziggy’s version ♡

@carolmunson prompt

♡firstly, i’m so excited about this, for the unification this could have for all of us fandom wide— hopefully there are more ideas like this in the future 💕

tw: depictions of hard times, established relationship, blue collar (?) vibes, money troubles, but you’re in love so it’s a non issue. fluffy, illusions to smut but nothing mentioned.

1.3k

the scene: a romantic night in at the trailer.

props included/mentioned (in passing or can hold bigger meaning): a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook.

dialogue included (can be manipulated slightly if needed, can be placed in any order):- "i ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?" - "aw, don't be like that. that's not even true."- "and you like that?"- "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem."

Birthdays.

Something rarely celebrated between the two of you. Even though you both agree every year would be different, every new year’s resolution—sworn to do it, but always falling short.

Until this year.

It wasn’t a pony or a working television, and still with the daily struggle of bills piling up and work slowing down— Eddie promised himself, your day would be special.

He dipped into the ‘broken window’ fund— started when some little shits tossed rocks at the “freak’s house”. It consisted of an empty pickle jar that lived in the same dark bottom cabinet holding the potatoes.

Just a few bucks, that’s all he would need until payday on friday.

The shopping basket was nearly pathetic looking as he scoured aisles for a special treat, realizing he had come up short when he needed an extra few bucks for gas.

Putting back the cake mix, the card, and a pack of twizzlers—Eddie left the store with a single can of vanilla frosting, the off brand kind.

He rushed home, hoping to still have enough time to beat you there before your shift ended at work.

Scrounging for the small notebook you got him for christmas, he flipped through the pages filled with past conversations about the pros and cons of leaving the trailer park, a forgotten list for groceries, and an even shorter list of bills that could be pushed back a few days.

He finally finds a clean sheet, clear of pen marks and gets to work. His hands flew with D&D esque inspired calligraphy, scrawling “happy birthday baby!” with a tiny jagged heart at the bottom with his initials.

A car door slams on creaky hinges and he knew you were home before even hearing your soft footsteps on the worn concrete— giving him only seconds to do a quick sniff of his pits and rake through his hair with his fingers— rings getting stuck along the way.

Your keys jingle on your finger as you lug your purse by its strap, nearly to the ground like you were walking a dog on a leash.

“There she is,”

The same cheesy charmer line he had greeted you with since you were teens meeting between classes by your locker, faces wedged almost as one to kiss as much as you could before being late. Hormones on fire.

Eddie ‘benjamin button’ Munson aged backwards, you were sure of it. Where you looked exhausted at any given hour, Eddie's puppy dog eyes grew bigger every day, not a single wrinkle on his cherub face.

“Hey babe,” you yawned with a hand covering your mouth, “did’y have a good day?”

His smile, all dimples and porcelain teeth stretched a mile wide along with his arms as you walked into them, pressing your cheek to the middle of his chest, arms slung lazy on his hips.

“Always a good day babe, never bad. And..someone, not sure who, has a birthday.”

Lifting your head his chin is dipped to you, “someone doesn’t like their birthday, Eddie— it’s a waste.”

You never had, it was never happy before Eddie— stemming from divorced parents fighting about which one should pick up the cake, and who was buying the gifts because ‘I did it last year’ which ultimately dissolved into you telling them not to worry about it because it was just another day.

“Aw don’t be like that,” Eddie frowns, “that’s not even true.”

You grumble into his shirt tossing your head further into him inhaling his scent. He kisses your hairline and strokes your back before working to remove your coat.

“Five years we’ve been together, it’s time we celebrate shit, sweetheart.”

Mumbling a drawn out ‘fiiine’ into him he tips your chin, with a curl of his forefinger, a little smirk on his lips.

“You’re really cute when you pout y’know it?”

“and you like that?”

His lips slot against yours, and you hum with content, “oh darlin’” he says with a fake southern drawl, “I love it.”

-

The tub was filled with the warmest temperature the water heater would allow— which wasn’t a lot, but still, it felt nice on your sore muscles from your shift at the same plant both Eddie and Wayne worked at, opposite shifts from you.

Eddie’s rings clacked on the plastic edge as he slid his long legs around yours into the water, sitting on the other end of the tub. He had helped you undress, hanging your coat on the back of a chair, giving you the beautiful homemade card that made tears spring to your eyes.

He followed behind you into the bathroom, running the water and putting the drain stopper into the drain before he ran back out to the kitchen returning with arms filled with stuff that he kept hidden from you until you were comfortably sitting in the cramped bathtub.

He plugged in an emerald strand of colorful christmas lights that you didn’t even know you had. It filled the cluttered countertop, weaving around the bar of soap and kitchen cup designated for holding your toothbrushes, lighting the bathroom in a cozy Christmas ambience… in April.

“We ran out of like, nice cups— is this okay?” He asked before pouring a can of Busch light into two red cups that were nabbed from Benny’s before it shut down.

Scrunching your face you move your arms from the depths of the water to reach out for his extended offering of warm beer, “when have we ever had nice cups?”

He laughed shrugging, “yeah, you’re right.”

Sitting square in front of you, long legs bent and wide open, Eddie holds up his cup in a cheers, “to you, my love, my sweet beautiful hotter than hell girl who for some reason fell for my charm, happy birthday.”

Clinking a his cup with yours you both smile before taking a swig of the cheap warm beer.

“mm, that’s nice.. what year?” you tease, never even having wine in your life.

He plays along like he always does, swirling the cup and putting the tip of his nose to the rim, “ah yes, a refined 1989 I believe— a good year for Busch I've heard.”

You both laugh until your sides ache. This is why you adored him, making a normal day special by just being him—corny, cheesy, poor— and you had never been happier.

“Oh, wait!” he exclaimed, reaching out of the tub, ribs stretching taunt against his skin, soap sliding down them.

He grabs a lighter from the counter and opens the tub of frosting. Brandishing a white waxed candle tucked behind his ear with the flair of a magician, he plants it in the center before lighting the wick and sitting down roughly in the tub, water splashing onto the floor.

The flame lit up his features, his tongue poked out in concentration, the yellow light filling his dark pudding eyes with a boyish glee, and then they met yours.

“Should I sing?”

You shake your head, happy tears stinging your eyes, “no, this is perfect,”

“Well make a wish.”

You close your eyes tight not knowing what to wish for because all you’ve ever wanted is right in front of you. Blowing out the candle you lean forward and kiss him square on the mouth, hard and deep.

The beer tipped into the tub and was long forgotten as your lips worked down his neck, wet strands of hair curled around, his arms pulling you in, making you sit on his naked lap, the frosting birthday cake sitting on the floor.

You kiss for awhile, your chest pressed into his, his hands squeezing your ass, the heel of his foot knocking the plug from the drain.

“If you don’t stop,” you mutter between kisses, “we’re gonna have a problem.”

Eddie smirks, dimples poking out, stroking your cheek thumb sweeping your swollen bit lip, “throw pillow is already on the bed, besides, I’m not afraid of a little trouble baby.”

[fandomnerd9602]

Off Script

Actress!Wanda x Reader

For @lifespectator and @aloneodi

You couldn’t believe it. First big time film project and you were teamed up with your celebrity crush, the world famous Wanda Maximoff.

It was a smaller indie project but Wanda always loved to do them after a blockbuster. It kept her grounded in her mind. And here she was about to work with you.

You somehow got thru the chemistry tests with her without completely falling to pieces in your presence. It was only later that you found out that she personally voted for you to be her love interest in the movie.

First day of filming and you were having jitters. You felt your script shaking in your hands.

“First day jitters,” a kind and lovey voice spoke to you. You turned to find Wanda giving you a friendly smile. “I still get those too. Especially on films im so excited about”

“You do such a wonderful job at hiding them.”

She giggles, “don’t worry it’ll pass. You got this Y/N. See you for scene 28” she gives a wink and walks off to join her assistant.

Scene 28? How could you forget? The first scene on the first day of filming and it’s the big scene where your character and hers admit their star crossed feelings for one another. You were supposed to then pick her up and set her on the kitchen counter before being interrupted.

Your hands were gonna be in her waist. She was supposed to be panting according to the script. The only woman you’ve ever crushed on and this was the scene?

Well the first few takes were a disaster. The director wasn’t furious but more frustrated. “This is not align with my vision!” The director whined before moving from the set to his trailer to think.

“I’m a screw up” you sigh. Wanda places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“It’s not easy. Building a sense of intimacy with a total stranger.”

“But you and Vis do so great on—“

“We hung out before the cameras even rolled” she shrugs. “Come on. I think our director’s gonna be gone for awhile”

Wanda takes your hand and leads you to her trailer. Her trailer, a mishmash of her guitar, some old TV show DVDs and her laptop. She takes a seat on the couch and pats the space next to her. You take a seat.

Your favorite actress stares at you like a girl who invited to her crush up to her bedroom. You could feel your own heart pounding out of your chest.

“Ask me anything.” She says, “anything to break the ice.”

“Favorite food?”

“My momma’s paprikesh. Old family recipe. Favorite show?”

You were tempted to say hers, “uhh…Dick Van Dyke season two”

“Nice choice. Also my favorite” she giggles, “if you weren’t acting what would you do?”

“Writing.” You answer, “I just love it. And you?”

“I honestly don’t know.” She takes a deep breath, “maybe gardening…or maybe writing a children’s book”

“Got anyone special?” Your question makes Wanda’s cheeks burn red with embarrassment.

“No. I know what the press says about me and Vis but there’s nothing there.” She smiles at you, “and you?”

“No. I-I’ve been so nervous about working with you. You’re like so cool and amazing and beautiful.” You wanted to slap yourself for saying it aloud.

“You think I’m beautiful?” She smiles at you. As if on instinct, you nod. “I-I have to admit, I was nervous about today too.”

“The great Wanda Maximoff? nervous?”

“I couldn’t tell you at the audition but…I-I thought you cute.”

You could practically feel your heart stop. This had to be some last second before death kind of dream.

Wanda gets up on her knees. “Mind if I try something?”

“Sure. What?” She wraps her arms around your neck.

“Chemistry test…detka” she leans in, your arms wrap around her waist. She kisses you. First gently and then a little quicker and then a little more desperate. She pulls back and looks you in the eye.

“Perfect” she whispers before kissing you again. “You’re perfect”

It was perfect. It was everything you dreamed of. Wanda was in your arms, her legs wrapped around your waist, kissing you. Her lips were like the sweetest candy. You never wanted it to end.

A knock at the trailer door breaks you apart. “Ms Maximoff? You and Y/N are needed on set. Everything alright?” The A.D. asks.

“Yeah. Y/N and I were…practicing for the scene.” She blushes.

“Need you both on set in five.” The A.D. says before leaving.

“To be continued?” You ask a little hopeful.

“I can’t wait for us to practice Scene 75,” Wanda gives you a wink before pulling you out the door. She pulls you close and whispers, “later…detka”

Wanda Maximoff, you’d want no one else for a screen partner…and maybe just for a partner in general. The paparazzi is gonna have a field day with this.

[heavyhitterheaux]

I Wanna See it in Motion, In 3D (NSFW)

Gif by @harlowgifs 💕

Synopsis: Jack can't keep his eyes off you on the set of his new video and the two of you eventually make a video of your own

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Model!Reader

Requested by: an amazing anon 💕

Do not engage if you are underage

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

There you were anxiously and nervously standing to the side on the set of Jung Kook’s and Jack Harlow’s newest video and the butterflies that you felt in your stomach were on one thousand no matter how many times you tried to get yourself to relax and calm down. Truth be told, this was your first video shoot and you were honestly surprised that you had gotten a call back for it.

You were an aspiring model and work had become scarce these days so your manager decided for you to go to a casting call for a music video to get you as much exposure as possible. However, you had no idea that the so-called video would involve your longtime crush Jack Harlow. You had been following his career for a while and ever since you heard Sundown, you had become obsessed with your friends even teasing you about it from time to time. 

 It was still early in the day and you knew that this would be a long one ahead of you since the director had told you beforehand. Seeing as you had no experience whatsoever doing this, you had no idea what to expect, but you were excited nonetheless. You had done plenty of photoshoots before that lasted for a few hours, but nothing like this and were open to having new opportunities placed in front of you. 

You heard one girl that was standing to the left of you gasp and you turned your head to see what she was staring at.

Of course it was Jack who had finally arrived on set. No surprise there.

Your breath immediately hitched in your throat and if you had been nervous and anxious before, you had no idea what you were now and just hoped that you didn’t faint or do anything to make a fool of yourself in front of him.

When Jack first made his way onto set after hitting the hair and make-up trailer, his eyes immediately went to you and he saw that you were somewhat standing off to the side and looked as nervous as can be when he decided to make his way over towards you.

You tried not to have a look of panic across your face as you saw Jack making his way towards you and tried to even your breathing as best as you could. When he opened his mouth to speak, all you could do was smile at him.

“I saw you looking a little nervous over here, so I decided to come over and keep you company. I’m Jack by the way.”

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You held out your hand for him to take, but instead he brought you into a hug catching you off guard, but you quickly accepted it and hugged him back.

He smelled so good and you wish that you could’ve held onto him for longer. 

“Nice to meet you too. So is this your first video shoot? Those are the vibes I get from you.”

“The vibes obviously don’t lie because it is. I have no idea what to expect so of course I’m nervous. Modeling is the lane that I’m usually in and used to so this is an entirely new environment.”

“You’re going to be fine. Besides, I’ll be here all day to keep you company and hopefully ease your mind. We’ll be done before you know it.”

“I appreciate that.” You quietly said while playing with the bracelet that was gracing your left wrist.

Just then you heard them call Jack’s name so the conversation was quickly cut short. 

“We’ll continue this later.” He said while smiling at you and you quickly gave him one in return. Your main goal was accomplished to not make a fool out of yourself in front of him, so hopefully the rest of the day would be a breeze and go well without any incident.

As Jack was walking away from you,  he noticed that you perked up after the little talk that you had with him and one of the other girls had come up to say something to you, making you laugh and getting the biggest smile on your face. 

He then made it his mission to ask you out on a date by the end of the day. 

It was around two in the afternoon, when all of the girls were lining up to do one of Jack’s scenes that had all of you standing next to him in a line. There was no set order and all of you just randomly stood next to each other, until Jack walked over to you and simply tugged at your hand to follow him which you quickly did.

“Jack, Is something wrong?” You asked and Jack quickly shook his head no.

“No, I just wanted you next to me for this scene. No reason to have you in the back when that beautiful face of yours needs to be shown off to the world.”

You instantly felt your cheeks grow hot and tried to look down at your feet, but Jack quickly took his pointer finger under your chin to raise it up in order for you to be able to look at him.

“Just calling it like I see it.”

For the first few takes of the scene, you could tell that Jack was annoyed, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on as to why until he abruptly stopped in the middle of shooting making everyone look at him confused.

“You know what? Y/N, could you do me a favor and hold something for me?” Jack asked while looking over at you and you simply nodded not understanding what was going on. It wasn’t until Jack took off his prized Kentucky chain and slid it around your neck which had your heart beating a mile a minute.

“There, that’s better and I like the way that it looks on you.” He whispered to you while leaning down.

One of the girls named Nina who was standing next to you quickly leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“He has literally been giving you bedroom eyes all day, now if we leave here today and come back tomorrow and you didn’t fuck him I’m going to be extremely disappointed.” The both of you quickly laughed while you looked down at the chain and played with it in your hands. I mean you didn’t think anything of it and just thought Jack was being nice, but Nina had quickly pointed out earlier that Jack would always go out of his way to make sure that you were in every scene that he was in as well as have you as close to him as humanly possible. 

And you weren’t complaining one bit.

The day was winding down and you were trying to head to your hotel to get some sleep so that you would be ready for tomorrow when you realized that you had to return Jack’s chain to him. You looked to your left to see that he was conversing with Jung kook and waited until they were finished to approach him in front of his trailer.

“Here, don’t want you to lose this or forget it.” You said while starting to take off the chain, but he quickly stopped you.

“You have anywhere to be right now?”

“No, just my bed waiting for me in my hotel room.” You quickly answered as Jack swung open the door to the trailer.

“How about we spend a little time together before you leave?”

“Sure, why not?” You quickly answered while going up the steps with Jack following close behind you. 

Once inside, Jack locked the door behind him and turned around to see you scrolling through your phone. He then made his way over to you and softly took it out of your hands to set in on the table that was in the front of both of you.

“You did amazing by the way. Couldn’t tell for a second that this was your first time on a video set.”

“Oh really? I was nervous the entire time thinking that I was going to mess up or do something stupid.”

“I don’t know why you were nervous when I was around you the entire day and told you that I would be.”

“Well it’s easier said than done and I mean you’re you so….”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re like this big global superstar. The both of you are so of course I was nervous.”

“But are you nervous now?” Jack asked as he scooted closer to you and took your hand in his.

“Do you want me to be honest?” You asked as Jack’s fingertips softly grazed the back of the hand that he was holding.

“Of course I do.”

“Then yes.”

“But how about you let me melt some of that nervousness away, pretty girl?” Jack asked and there was an instant lump in your throat as you could feel the river start to make itself known between your thighs. 

“And what do you suggest?” You curiously asked as the bulge in his pants became more pronounced as he started to place kisses along your neck.

“Well, I could think of a few things and…. None of them involve clothes.”

Once Jack looked back up at you, it was hard for him to read your facial expression, but he quickly got his answer when you kissed him and he eagerly kissed you back.

“Been waiting all day to do that.”

You wasted no time with getting Jack’s shirt over his head and still continuing to kiss him after you tossed it to the opposite side of the room and scratched down his abs making him moan into your mouth and you couldn’t help but smirk.

Not wanting anything to happen to his chain, you quickly tried to take it off, but once again he stopped you.

“Leave it on. I wanna fuck you with you only wearing this and record it for safe keeping and my eyes only.”

All you did was nod as you bit your lip and stood up to slide off your shirt making sure to leave the chain on just like he requested. The chain was cold as it touched your skin, but you quickly knew that Jack would warm you right back up. 

Your boobs were now on full display in front of him and he quickly reached up to take one of them in his mouth while playing with the other making you throw your head back in pleasure.

After a few minutes, you softly pushed him away in order for you to stand back up and slide off your pants along with your black thong that you were wearing underneath. You took them both off painfully slow as you had turned away from Jack in order for him to be able to see you from behind as you did it. Once you had reached down to pick up your thong, his erection had almost grown painful and he needed to be in you as soon as possible. 

Not wanting to waste anymore time, Jack undid his pants and lifted up his hips in order for you to be able to slide them off and was slowly stroking himself as the precum leaked out as you looked down at him in awe.

“All this is waiting for you, you ready?” Jack asked and your response was getting on your knees and licking the tip as the precum was then able to drip into your mouth.

You then used your hand where your mouth couldn’t reach as you slowly moved him in and out of your mouth.

“Baby, I’m about to bust if you keep going. Get up here and let me fuck you.”

You did as you were told and stood up to then lay down on the couch with Jack hovering over top of you.

“Oh hold on, I have to document this first.” He said as he pulled out his phone to snap a picture of you underneath him.

Jack then reached over to the small table that was on his left and took out a condom and quickly slid it on.

“Spread those legs, baby. You want to feel all of me, don’t you? Be a good girl for me and do as I say.”

You did as you were told without any hesitation and hit instant pleasure as Jack slid into you making both of you moan in unison.

Your arms quickly went around his neck as he placed kisses along your jaw so that you could adjust to his size before he continued. 

“Fuck you feel so good, just like I knew you would. I’m going fuck this little pretty pussy so good. Will you let me do that?”

You quickly nodded and Jack stopped his movements making you look at him in confusion.

“Use your words. Will you let me do that?”

“Yes, just fuck me already.”

“Patience, baby, patience. Just needed to hear you say it first.” Jack said while chuckling to himself as he began to move in and out of you and slowly but surely increase his pace.

Your nails quickly went to scratch down his back as he had rested his head on your shoulder, but not before placing kisses all over it.

“Oooh shit, that feels so good.” You breathed out and Jack couldn’t help but to smirk since he had you right where he wanted you…. Underneath of him. 

“Fuck, you feel amazing around me.”

“Mmm, Jack go faster.” You breathed out and he quickly acted on your request.

If someone had told you this morning that the day would end with Jack fucking you in his trailer you would have looked at them like they were crazy.

“I love the way my chain looks on you while I’m fucking you.” You heard Jack say and you quickly grabbed his hand to place it around your neck while telling him to squeeze and apply pressure. 

“Hmm, harder, choke me harder.” Jack was a little hesitant since he didn’t want to hurt you, but immediately pursued your request.

“Ooh right there, right fucking there. Don’t stop, baby, don’t stop.” You had wrapped your left leg around Jack in order for him to go deeper and you knew that you were close. 

“I didn’t plan on it. You gonna cum for me? You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

“Yes!”

Jack reached down to play with your clit while still moving in and out of you when your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks making you scream out.

“Fuckkkkk!” Your legs were shaking as Jack allowed you to ride out your high while placing kisses along your neck and then immediately applied pressure to it as you felt him moving inside of you once more.

He was moving in and out of you at a fast pace while tightly holding your neck as you hit your peak for a second time while Jack’s thrusts began to get sloppier letting you know that he was close. 

“Shit, I’m about to cum in this pretty pussy of yours.”

“Then do it.” You confidently said as Jack moaned out your name and a series of curses to go along with it. 

As the both of you came down from your high, Jack slid off the condom to throw it away and you immediately took him in your mouth making him moan knowing that he was still trying to recover while all you did was smirk as you released him from your mouth with a pop.

“I need you to do something for me.” Jack started to say as you were still on your knees in front of him.

“What is it?”

“Play with yourself while I record it on my phone.”

You held eye contact with him as you licked the side of his dick from the base to the tip before smiling.

“Hmm, I guess I could do that for you.” You replied as Jack stood you up and the two of you quickly traded places.

You slid to the left side of the couch all the way up before Jack pulled out his phone and started to record you.

You began by sucking on your fingers and making eye contact with Jack and slowly rubbing small circles along your clit making Jack instantly grow hard once more.

He simply began stroking himself as you inserted two fingers and moved at a slow pace while taking one of your breasts to your mouth and sucking while still not breaking eye contact with him.

He saw how wet you were and his mouth couldn’t help but to water wanting to taste you, but he knew that he had all night to do that as well as tomorrow seeing as there was still one more day left to shoot. 

“Mmm, baby this feels so good.” You said to Jack as you placed your two fingers back into your mouth and sucked on them as Jack looked at you in awe.

“I taste so good and I know you want a taste too.” You said while looking over at Jack and you knew he was doing everything humanly possible in order to not stop recording.

“I’ll taste you when you’re done, pretty girl. Keep going for me.”

“As you wish.” 

You then inserted another finger and increased your pace knowing that you were going to hit your peak at any moment.

Jack was looking at you in awe while he continued to stroke himself, and you wanted nothing more to have him back in your mouth.

“Hmm, you stroking yourself for me baby? You like when I touch myself for you?”

“Only for you, baby. Make yourself cum for me.”

It didn’t take long for Jack’s request to be granted and as soon as you said that you were about to cum, he handed you his phone for you to record him eating you out as you were coming down from your high.

“Ohh, yes baby. Right there, keep going. It feels so good.”

“And tastes so good, just like I knew you would.” 

Jack began to suck on your clit as your hands went to his hair and he held your thighs down in order to keep you in place.

“Cum all over my face, baby.”

In that instant, you did as Jack was still using his tongue on you as you were trying to catch your breath. Once you finally did, Jack reached up to place several kisses on your lips and take his phone that you were handing to him.

“For my eyes only that I can watch for when I’m missing you.”

“But you have me for another day and a half.”

“But Y/N, I’m trying to have you for longer. I only asked you to come to my trailer to ask you on a date, I didn’t plan on fucking your brains out but here we are.”

“Hmm and I’m not upset about it either. We can go for another round before we have to go to sleep, can’t we?” You asked as you batted your eyelashes at him and Jack couldn’t do anything but smirk.

“As you wish, get on all fours for me.”

“Looks like you finally got me in 3D.” You said as the two of you laughed.

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

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@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

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[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three Four Five

What the fuck are you even so happy about? You fucked it up. Jesus you both fucked it up. I didn’t even know something like that could happen.

Eddie smiles at his bedroom ceiling in the dim light, “it was amazing.”

You hugged. Congratulations, you hugged a boy. Eddie can feel Billy roll his eyes.

“You don’t get it.”

There’s nothing to get, because nothing actually happened. Because somehow you both fucked up something as simple as kissing.

Eddie laughs, “you mad Billy? Mad you didn’t get to make out with Harrington?”

Fuck off. I don’t give a shit.

“Uh hu,” Billy is finally quiet. He leaves Eddie alone, lets him grin up at the clean ceiling from his clean new bed, in the room Steve set up for him. Filled with the things Steve went out of his way to save from the old trailer. There’s no beeping here, no hospital smells, he’s warm and comfortable and he’s full of Steve’s casserole and mashed potatoes.

The scent of Steve’s aftershave lingering in his nose, on his cheek.

They were going to kiss, Eddie’s pretty sure they were. They were both so close, heads tilted and eyes wide, but someone twitched wrong, something happened, both of them simultaneously sublimating whatever it was they were doing into a hug instead. Steve’s arms wrapped carefully around Eddie’s middle, conscious of the still healing wounds, his face tucked carefully against Eddie’s neck, ‘never done anything with a guy before.’ The whispered confession from Steve Harrington, the soft lips and sharp stubble against Eddie’s neck.

A confession that means he was going to do something with a guy. Or at least was interested in doing something with a guy, and that guy was, presumably, Eddie.

An incredible turn of events, really.

‘Never done anything with anyone,’ Eddie had whispered back, earning himself a snort of a laugh. God natured though. Happy.

‘We can go slow.’

And Steve had left with a big sappy smile and a dorky little finger tip wave and a promise they would hang out tomorrow.

Eddie sighs. Then grabs a pillow so he can scream into it. And then he’s kind of just grinning, laughing a little, he’s just so fucking happy.

Jesus christ, you fuck ups are actually made for each other.

“I hope so.”

What is this we’re doing now.

Eddie ignores him, sets up his DM shield, his books, his dice. Unpacks his pencils, his notes. Eddie always plays it fast and loose, he’s got a vague plan sure. As long as he knows the plan and the motivations of the bad guys, everything else falls into place pretty easily.

So this is the nerd thing you’ve been planning for.

He wants this one to be good; first game with Will the Wise present, after all. Steve’s in the kitchen, left Eddie to set up the finishing touches. They’re going to hang out and watch a movie once all the kids have gone, and Eddie’s pretty sure he couldn’t have planned a more perfect day if he tried. Steve’s even making them snacks. He’s done something to the dining room table to make it even bigger, unfolding some extra hidden bit of wood to make it longer; wild rich people shit.

The bell tolls; the kids are at the door, and Eddie can’t suppress his joy at having all the kids here together, everyone alive and well. Well, except for Max, which is shitty, but all the kids are going to go and visit her after this, so that’ll be nice for her.

He wants to prance to the front door, leap and skip and play he’s so buzzing with excitement for this, but one single hop is enough for his body to remind him, pretty sharply, that he is absolutely not ready for that sort of nonsense just yet, so he walks instead.

Jesus christ, this kid is a straight up savage.

Lady Applejack stares Eddie down over his DM shield.

Could have done with her against the Mindflayer.

“I’m going to attack.”

Of course she is.

Eddie claps joyously, “everyone roll for initiative.”

Eddie’s standing now, can’t possibly just sit with all this going on, “and that is a hit, his mighty war hammer crashing into your armor with a resounding smack, for one D10 of damage…”

“Dustin,” Mike hisses, “how much health do you even have?”

Dustin shakes his head, worried, but doesn’t answer. Lucas is hanging onto Dustin's shoulder, looking down at Dustin’s character sheet. Eddie’s dice clatters on the table behind the DM shield, Lucas signals ‘five’ to will with his fingers.

The whole table collectively holds it’s breath as Eddie watches his die roll and settle on a nine. “It’s a glancing blow! Your armor must absorb some of the hit as you take four points of damage!”

Eddie, no, don’t lie. Kill the little shit-you're too soft on them.

Will immediately starts on his turn, so excited, “I cast Cure Light Wounds!”

Of course he does.

Why is this taking them so long?

The most simplistic puzzles are the best.

Literally all the have to do is match the colors. I can’t believe how dumb they are.

Eddie does his best to hold in the snort. Doesn’t quite succeed and earns a scathing look from Erica. Yep. They are over thinking it a little.

This is so frustrating, how can you even sit through this.

Watching them struggle is the fun. They’ll get it in a minute.

We’re going to grow old and die here.

They sit and listen to the kids argue a little longer, coming up with wilder and wilder theories on how to solve what is the simplest color match game Eddie could come up with.

Baldie is staring at us.

Don’t call her that, Eddie’s reply is reflexive, but Billy is right. El is watching them.

Eddie isn’t surprised when she lingers. Deliberately makes it so that she’s the last standing on the porch. The boys shot off on their bikes, but El, Mike and the ferocious Lady Applejack are hitching a ride with Nancy.

She waves to him through the wind shield, then turns, talking to Mike.

“Do you talk to him?”

No preamble. Just those big fucking eyes looking up at Eddie. Knowing. A little kid should not look like that.

“Yeah, all the time.” In his mind, Billy is still and quiet. Watching warily.

“Is he alright?”

“He’s still a massive dick, so, I guess so, yeah.”

“Does Max know?”

She cuts right to the heart of it, this kid, “she’s the only one who knows.”

She nods, “for now,” and then leaves, running to get in the car without a care in the world.

She’s terrifying.

I know, fucking great isn’t it?

Part seven

[elidoesntbreathwee]

A Shiny Rock

Eddie touched people - like a lot - he did it with most people he became even slightly close with, for the most part, but unbeknownst to Steve, he also liked to give gifts. The gifts that Eddis gave weren't the typical candy bar or flowers with a nice card -- as a matter of fact that weren’t anything of the sort. Eddie liked to pick up things he found that he liked, and carry them in his pocket -- Wayne called him a goblin for it -- but now, he’d been developing a new habit.

Eddie would find something he liked - usually something shiny, or a rock, sometimes both - he would carry around whatever he found for the whole day, and then when he inevitably saw Steve, he would present it to him.

“Stevie! Look what I found!” Eddie gleamed.

Steve would admire whatever trinket Eddie had found that day and had in his palm, then look in his eyes, seeing the glimmer of excitement, saying something along the lines of: “Eddie, this is lovely!” Steve would smile the soft smile he unknowingly reserved just for Eddie and his little trinkets.

Eddie’s smile would shine brighter than the sun, then, he’d hold out his hands, “Here Steve-o, you can have it.”

Steve would accept it, of course, and keep it in his pocket, until he put it in the little box of gifts from Eddie that he’d accumulated over a few months.

One cloudy afternoon, Eddie was walking as he saw in the corner of his eye something shiny -- and for Eddie, this meant something great, because he loved anything shiny, especially if it was useless junk he would never use. He crouched down over where he’d seen it to see a glimmering, silvery rock. He picked it up, admiring its ruff texture and pale silver color, and slipped it into his pocket, not thinking too much about it for the rest of his afternoon.

That evening he was hanging out with the part, as had become quite common, and the party, of course, included Steve.

“Hey Stevie! Look at this!” Eddie said, slipping the silvery rock out of the pocket of his black skinny jeans -- walking over to Steve, holding out the trinket. 

“Oh, Eds! That's so cool, I love it!” Steve said smiling. Eddie noticed this -- he always noticed this. Steve would always smile brightly telling Eddie that whatever he brought to show him was lovely and that he loved it. It made Eddie shine as brightly as the rock he’d found earlier - but that rock was a pebble compared to the resplendent glimmering inside Eddie whenever Steve so much as looked at him. Eddie knew it wasn’t right, he knew it wasn’t smart, and he knew it would never happen, but the spark in his eyes and warm glow in his heart didn’t seem to get that message. Eddie had been staring at the rock for a good few moments now, before he looked up at Steve to see the brightness of his smile had faded into a confused and slightly confused miniature frown.

“What’s wrong, Stevie?” Eddie said knitting his eyebrows

“I- it’s nothing Eds… don't worry” Steve said glancing down once or twice

“Steve, come on, I know something’s up. You can tell me.” Eddie laid his hand on Steve’s arm, holding the stone in only one hand now.

“I- I don’t know, it’s stupid, but you always tell me I can have whatever little thingy you find and- ugh” Steve interrupted himself with a groan, and a facepalm. “It’s just- I don’t know, you didn’t and I feel stupid about it now but… i guess i just… really like it” Steve said

“Hey Steve.” Eddie asked, smiling a soft smile.

“Yeah?” Steve felt like a total idiot, but he answered anyway.

“Would you like to keep the rock I found?” Eddie can’t contain his bright, gleaming smile.

Steve’s eyes started to tear up, “Yeah, yeah I do, Eds.” He smiled.

The night Eddie go home to his trailer, but instead had gone with Steve to his house (you couldn’t really call it a home, it looked like it was picked straight out of a magazine) and he watched as Steve pull out the box of every rock, trinket, or, to be frank, piece of garbage that Eddie had ever offered him -- Steve accepting every time. Eddie began to tear up, knowing that Steve had kept it all.

“Eds? What’s wrong?” Steve asked, having set down the rock in the box.

“You… you kept them?” Eddie said, tears beginning to well up.

“Of course I did, I mean… you gave them to me.” Steve smiled, walking over to Eddie, hugging him.

Eddie knew it probably wasn’t anything more than a platonic exchange, but Eddie wished it were more, because fuck, he really liked Steve. He liked Steve in a way he’d never liked anyone before -- sure Eddie had had dumb crushes before, but this? This was so much different than that. Eddie knew he had close to no chance, that if he told Steve, he would push him away and never want to hang out with him again, and Eddie just couldn’t bear that. He stayed quiet, soaking up as much as he could out of the embrace, but never taking it any further.

Steve pulled back -- Eddie knew it wouldn’t last forever, but he wished he could have paused the world at that moment, taking in every drop of Steve’s affection. Steve brought his hand to Eddie’s cheek, wiping away the tears that Eddie hadn’t noticed had fallen.

Steve paused.

“Eddie.” Steve whispered.

“Yeah?” Eddie responded, worried he’d accidentally leaned into Steve’s touch and he had noticed, or that he’d somehow taken things too far and ruined everything between the two of them.

“Can I kiss you?” Steve breathed.

Eddie’s heart both stopped and beat faster than it ever had -- the world stopped, whether in the good or bad way was yet to be determined, because of course, Eddie’s mind would tell him that Steve was just fucking around with him.

“W-what.” Eddie croaked out,

“I- I, um, said ‘Can I kiss you’” Steve swallowed.

Eddie’s eyes started to shine, whether with tears or hope -- or both, who was to tell.

“Yes, god, yes.” Eddie breathed out, smiling.

Steve lifted his hand once again to cup Eddie’s cheek, smiling before kissing him. Eddie was almost convinced this was a dream -- but he was really here, kissing Steve Harrington, the guy he definitely hasn’t had a pathetic crush on since sophomore year. 

Steve pulled back -- and of course it makes Eddie second guess himself.

“Hey Eds.” Steve whispers, his face still so close to Eddie’s that Eddie can feel the warmth as Steve talks.

Eddie hums in response.

“Thank you for the rock.” Steve said before kissing him again.

Eddie was the one to put a pause in their shared affections this time -- he wrapped his arms around Steve, hiding his head in the crook of Steve’s neck. Steve hugged him back, but the hug felt different than the one they had shared only some minutes ago - much more romantic.

“Steve.” Eddie mumbled into his neck.

“Yeah, Eds, what’s up?” Steve replied.

“Does this mean… that you like me too?” Eddie asks.

Steve breaths out a short laugh, “Mhm… It does. Does that mean you like me back?” He says softly.

Eddie looks up at him, scoffing, “Only since forever, dumbass.” He says, before returning to Steve's neck.

Eddie smiles, “If you think about it, we kissed because you wanted a rock.” Eddie says into Steve’s neck, trying to hold back a giggle.

Steve rolls his eyes, trying (and failing) to hold back a smile, “Shut up.” He says, kissing the top of Eddie’s head, then Leading him over to his bed where the two cuddle, and kiss, until way to late into the night.

-

(A/N) hi hi!! i hope u liked that :) it was kinda a silly concept but i really like how it turned out :) if u did like it, a like or reblog would be SOOSOSOS appreciated!! love u <33