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#i really thought there was no way i’d make it to the end of 2020

carolmunson · 1 year

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let's go, don't wait: part II (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! series masterlist summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, phone sex, smut, oral (f receiving). some sad childhood talk, all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (19K words.)

With how easy the first date had been to make, Eddie wasn’t expecting it to be so hard to pin you down for the next one. Neither of your schedules had lined up for the rest of the week, and up until next Friday neither of you had much free time. You either had to stay at work late or he had to stay late for the three extracurriculars he was running (jazz club, D&D club, and co-runner of the school’s GSA) – which he’d only be annoyed about running if he didn’t absolutely love the kids. The extra overtime didn’t hurt either, perks of working at a rich kid private arts school.

At first he was nervous you were busy going on dates with other guys until he called you one night and he could hear your boss in the background waxing poetic about the shift to lab grown sapphires. Then he’d feel bad for feeling so accusatory to start – you’d never said anything to each other about being exclusive. Hell, you’d only been on one date. But you talked every day, and fuck did that feel good for Eddie.

g’morning pretty ew you’re obsessed with me. good morning, boy

He’s happy he knows you’re joking because he’s certain no other guy would get it. He knows you read his text and screamed into your pillow, cheeks hot and chest thrumming. That’s why you always have to respond so mean so that he doesn’t know how much you like him back. This backfires, because he can tell that the meaner you are, the more you like his attention.

what’s your weekend look like? i know you leave for AZ on sunday but i’d really like to see you before you go.

You were headed to a gem trade show in Tucson on Sunday for a few days. You went every year you’d been working for your boss, you told him all about it on the phone. You’re cute when you’re excited but he didn’t want to embarrass you by saying so – just let you rattle on about all the things you get to see. You promised to send him pictures of some of the cool fossils you might come across, all of the big crystal furniture. “You were a weird dinosaurs kind of kid, right? You’d be into pictures of fossils?" “Why are you so mean? Would you go up to nine year old me and call him a weird kid that’s into dinosaurs?” “No, he’d be so sad.” “So next time you wanna say some mean shit, imagine you’re saying it to nine year old me.” “I bet you were a cute kid,” you thought out loud, “You’re a really cute adult.”

“You think I’m cute?” “The cutest.” His face burned at every compliment you offered him, flushing dark pink at every sweet word you said. He was a mess. Embarrassment would flood him when he’d check his phone during class, the kids would never let him hear the end of it. “Did you meet her on Tinder, Mr. E?” “This is not appropriate class discussion guys,” his eyes would shut tight in frustration when they’d catch him texting you back and he’d reluctantly tuck his phone into his back pocket. They were way bolder than he was at their age. “No because like, you’re so happy though. Look how you’re smiling when you text her.” “Mr. Munson’s got that W rizz.” “Is she hot?” “Be fucking forreal. He’s blushing so hard right now.” “Smash or pass, Munson?” “Guys, can you relax? You literally have a test right now." Bzz. Bzz.

i gotta run errands on saturday and go then leave sunday night :( working late friday cause we need to take gem inventory essentially He sighed, he didn’t want to wait until next Friday to see you again.

i could run errands with you if you’ll have me. i’ll drive! you sure? it’s not super exciting stuff. you make it exciting. :) i’ll take you out to lunch. sound good? okay :) okay :) see you saturday, cutie omg shut up 🙄 but yeah. see you saturday. :)

He was nervous you’d notice he got his interior detailed the night before, but he was too embarrassed to let you get into the car in its original glory. He honked the horn in three short bursts, being mindful of the neighbors even though it was around 9:30 in the morning. You inch out of the door of your place, the first floor of a quaint three family home, in your Princess Diana best. You dressed for errands and his heart swells, leggings and a big sweatshirt, little white sneakers and socks. You look cute like this, hurrying outside with your paper Old Navy bag blowing in the wind, relaxed and laid back. But you aren’t for long, you take a step outside only to feel the chill in the ‘second winter’ air of March and raise a finger to him before running back inside — reappearing with a lightweight parka haphazardly thrown on. You patter to the car and he tries to ignore his heart rate speeding up while he leans over to open it for you. “Hey you,” he smiles, “Good morning.” “Morning,” you say with a coy smile. His chest leans forward slightly to kiss you as you settle in but he stops short. Are you there yet? You only kissed that night last week. What if you weren’t ready to kiss again? He swallows, settling back into his seat but recognizing how his car fills with your scent. You smell so fucking good he could eat you. “So what’s the agenda, sugar?” he asks. “Okay, agenda: Target, Old Navy for a return,” you say, raising your bag, “I have to run into Sephora to pick up some sunscreen for my boss, and um…I think that’s it? They’re all in the same shopping center over by um – by the movie theater.” “Oh yeah,” he nods, “I know the one.” He reaches for the sound system, turning the volume up a little, Lamb of God’s Vanishing crunching through his speakers. He watches for your reaction and can tell you don’t know it, but you don’t seem appalled or repulsed. “Do you have a tunes preference?” he asks, voice velvety smooth, eyes catching on your parted lips, “It’s a long drive.” “Uh…” your knee bounces faster, “I mean it’s your car. We should listen to what you wanna listen to.” “Honey, I’m like your Uber driver today,” he offers, head tilting while he looks over at you. Eddie’s gaze lingers on your face with soft eyes, lashes a shadow over his irises, “How’m I gonna get a five star review if you don’t like the music?”

“I do!” you assure aggressively, “I do like it.”

“Here, I have a plan,” he nods, holding his hand out, “Gimme your phone.”

You toss him a look which triggers an eye roll from him, “Just trust me, give me your phone.”

“Here’s the bargain, I connect your tunes to my car,” he mumbles while he disconnects his phone from the car’s Bluetooth and connects yours instead, “But I get to pick the songs. Deal?”

A giggle bubbles out of you, shoulders shaking loosely, “That’s ridiculous.”

“But is it a deal?” he asks again. He takes a breath that inflates his chest, while you consider it. It’s not fair that you look so cute this morning, it’s not fair that he doesn’t have the confidence to just reach over and lay one on you like they do in the movies. He wasn’t lying when he said you were so kissable.

“It’s a deal,” you nod. He watches your knee slow down to stopping. Eddie swallows, eyes traveling from your knees to your full thighs sitting fat in his passenger's seat with a quick scan that you don’t notice.

“Okay, so let’s see…” he mutters, going into your music and scrolling through your artists, landing pretty early on with an enthusiastic nod that makes his waves bounce around his face.

“Blood Brothers?” he asks, “Wow, you really did hate your dad, huh? I haven’t heard this album in years.”

“I started liking them for a boy back in high school,” you shrugged while he thumbed through the tracks, “Then started liking them forreal.” “That’s okay,” he smiles over at you, “You’d be surprised to see my Spotify wrapped every year. Never as mean and scary as you’d expect.”

“No?” your brows raise, “Not a bunch of ‘Stabby Metal Scream Crunch Stab’ in your top ten?”

He scoffs, settling on ‘Set Fire to the Face on Fire’, the opening Fire! Fire! Fire! leaking through the speakers, “I married the head cheerleader at my high school – I’d like to think my music taste is pretty eclectic. Metal’s just, y’know, the main course. Plenty of side dishes on my roster.”

“You a big fan of having something on the side?” you quirk a brow at him through the rear view mirror while he puts the car in drive. He scoffs again, lips twitching up into a smirk. You’re quick and it makes his blood rush, his fingers drum nervously on the wheel while he keeps the car in place.

“Why’re you so mean, huh?” he teases, “Do I look like the kind of guy that’s had a lot of side pieces?”

“Oh,” you start, giving him a once over, “Not even close.”

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” he asks, putting the car in park again. He turns down the volume, turning his body completely towards you. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” you drone, turning yourself toward him in return, “I guess I am.” Eddie clears his throat, tongue flicking over his full lips to wet them.

“So uh…before we hit the road,” his voice cracks, heart rattling in its cage, trapped in his chest, “D’you-think-I-could-steal-a-kiss-good-morning?” It pours out of his mouth while his body goes numb – like the bandaid was ripped off but someone else did it for him. His hopeful voice when he presents the offer sounds foreign to him, but he knows what he’s asking you. Blood rushes in his ears, the steady thump of his heart pounding through his veins. Your bottom lip tucks into your teeth, eyes shutting briefly with anticipation, a tiny chuckle huffs through your nose. Your knee starts to bounce again.

“Yeah, but it’s not stealing if I’m letting you have one,” you reply, your own voice becoming delicate and girlish, teenage nerves coasting down your throat through the back of your neck. He leans close to you, engulfed again in the scent of your perfume, head leaning to the side slightly while your movements mirror his. Eddie brings a hand up to hold your face, keeping you steady while he goes in for the kill, one he’d been hoping to make since he saw you last. Heart stuck in his throat, he almost feels a sob shoot through his chest when his lips touch yours. It’s as soft and warm as he remembers. As soft and warm as the moment he’s been replaying in his head since last Monday.

You both break apart but he doesn’t move away from your face, hand dropping from your cheek to your bouncing knee where he gives it a gentle squeeze, “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I think maybe, yeah. But I’m excited, too. Y’know, to spend the day with you.”

It’s his turn to feel giddy and embarrassed, a flush building steadily on the apples of his cheeks, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous, too. But it’s just gonna be a nice, chill day, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, both of you wearing matching smiles.

“I do have a rule, though,” his brows furrow, implying he’s serious. You look very seriously back at him.

“I gotta kiss you every time you’re startin’a look a little too good,” he gives you a shrug of one shoulder before settling back into the driver’s seat while he pulls onto the road, “Cause I don’t know if you saw, but the way you look this morning is fucking illegal.”

You let out a soft tsss from between your teeth, shaking your head while you settle back into your seat, “You’re so stupid.”

“I’m just a man, sugar,” he tilts his head, readjusting behind the wheel before putting the car back in drive. He restarts the song before pulling onto the road, feeling like maybe this errands date would go much, much better than he’d planned. He drums on the steering wheel again, head softly bouncing along with the beat of the song while the lyrics scream through the car. You mouth along with them, staring out the window while you do.

‘Those cold hooks, cemetery claws raking at the infant's jaws,Set fire to the horse on fire,Set fire to the dress on fire,Set fire to the stage on fire,Set fire to the stars on fire!’

“Damn, me and the band shoulder cover this,” he nods to himself, “We’d fuckin’ crush.”

“Can you scream like that?” you ask, turning your head to face him, “I feel like I’d blow my vocal chords.”

“Eh, sorta kinda,” he tilts his head from side to side, “I got plenty of practice. Do plenty of screaming with our own stuff, you sorta train your voice up to do it. I might not be able to scream as high but, I could harmonize with Jeff – lead guitar if you remember –” “I remember,” you smile, “And his wife Alycia.”

“And is wife Alycia! Damn, look at you,” he smiles, “You should write my memoirs. But yeah, surprisingly Jeff can get pretty high up there – it’s super impressive.”

“Well when you cover it, I’ll come watch,” you nod, “You still haven’t really told me about your band.”

“Corroded Coffin?” he asks, turning into a coffee shop drive-thru and pulling up behind a short line of cars, “Not much to tell. We play shows every couple weeks, in the summer every week, at a few bars around the city that are into that scene. We have fun – still play at our old stomping grounds in Hawkins, too. Same five drunks cheering us on for the last twelve years.”

His eyes widen at the realization, “Twelve years, Jesus. I’m so fuckin’ old.”

“Oh, thank god I only have two years until I’m fuckin’ old,” you laugh, “You don’t look old.”

“You don’t look old either,” he smiles, giving you a once over that you immediately feel shy under, “What can I get you?”

“Oh no, no,” you shake your head, reaching for your wallet in your Old Navy bag, “I’ll get it, seriously. You’re driving me.”

“No, please, I’ll get it,” he says, pushing your hand down gently while you offer your card.

“I wanna pay for it, you’re already going out of your way to do all this boring shit,” you offer again. He plucks your card from your fingers and flicks it into the backseat. He shrinks when your smile falls, you’re very obviously not taken by his actions.

“Look,” he shrugs, voice lowering, “I didn’t wanna say anything cause I didn’t know how you’d react. But this location actually doesn’t accept money from women. I know, crazy right? So sexist. Its so gross of me to still go here when it’s totally against all my shit. But since they don’t accept any payments from women, I’m gonna have to pay or else we can’t get coffee.”

You roll your eyes but can’t hold back your laugh, “Fuck, why do you have to be funny about it?”

“You think I’m funny, huh?” he grins, pulling up to the microphone box.

“Yeah, funny lookin’,” you tease. Eddie ‘tsks’ a few times with a shake of his head, looking back at you.

“What can I get you?” he asks again.

“Medium, iced, caramel. Almond milk if they have it, regular if not,” you respond, crossing your arms. He orders and can feel your eyes on him, he wants to turn back around and kiss that pout right off your lips. You’re not used to having someone take care of things and he can tell, you don’t like it either. Or at least you don’t know how to let yourself like it. Two givers stuck in a car running errands with each other – he wonders if you’ve ever known how to take.

He gets the coffees, yours with your milk and flavor, his iced and black. You say thank you when you take it, there’s something about your face when you do, a softness he feels like he’s not supposed to see.

“Hey, you know my rule,” he says, leaning in again, “You’re startin’ to look at little too good right now.”

Your embarrassed smile says enough when you close the gap between the two of you, lips pressing together in a soft and gentle peck.

“Thank you,” he expresses, big brown eyes looking into yours before pulling back onto the streets. He turns the sound system up again, the opening of Cam’ron’s Hey Ma flows through the speakers, he nods enthusiastically.

“Another banger,” he exclaims.

“You know this song?” you ask with surprise.

“I grew up in a trailer park, baby. You hear a lot of different music out there,” he shrugs. Eddie feels his throat choke up when he realizes he called you baby. But at least if you hated it, you weren’t showing any sign that you did.

“Got drops. Got coupes. Got trucks. Got jeeps. Alright, 'cause we gon' take a ride tonight So ma. Wassup? Let's slide. Alright. Alright, and we gon' get it on tonight.” He likes that you’re impressed that he knows the words, of course he does. He grew up hearing this song all of summer 2002, running through the hose with the little kids, while his old baby sitters sat out in lawn chairs to work on their color. Playboy Bunny stickers on their hip bones to show off their tan lines.

You both sing the opening verse to the windshield, windows coming down an inch as you turn onto the parkway, voices booming over Juelz Sanatana’s.

“Now I was down town clubbin’, ladies night, Seen shorty she was crazy right, And I approached baby like, ‘Ma, what’s your age and type?’ She looked at me and said, ‘Yous a baby right?’” He hits the last red light before the long stretch of the drive, turning to you to deliver a passionate line reading of the lyrics. He’s surprisingly smooth, even impressing himself at how actually cool he’s being about it.

“I told her, I’m eighteen and live a crazy life, Plus I’ll tell you what the 80s like, and I know what the ladies like, Need a man that’s polite, listens and takes advice. I can be all three, plus I can lay the pipe. Come with me, come stay the night.”

He winks when he finishes the line and by the way you stop singing, he knows he’s got you flustered. You are easy. He wants to see how much easier it is.

“You better be careful,” you warn, tongue caught between your teeth. “Yeah? I better be careful?” he grins, car pushing forward when the light changes so he can turn onto the highway.

“You’re trouble, Munson,” you shake your head, turning your attention back to the stretch of asphalt ahead of the both of you, “You’re big trouble.”

“She looked at me laughin’ like, ‘Boy your game is tight.’ I’m laughin’ back like, ‘Sure, you’re right.’”

“D’you need a cart?” Eddie asks, taking a side step over to the push carts neatly pushed into each other in between the double doors of Target.

“Nah, if I get a cart I’m just gonna use it as an excuse to buy more stuff,” you pull a face, shoulders dropping dramatically, “And while I’d love to have an excuse to buy more stuff, I just need a basket.” “Basket it is,” he grins, hand wrapping over the hard plastic of one of the handles, tugging a basket loose from where it’s encased with its brothers. You reach your hand out, taking a step closer to the entrance, our step triggers the automatic doors and he files in after you.

He looks at your outstretched hand behind you and then up at your face, “I can hold it, Ed.”

He gives you a small shake of his head, “Nah, I’ll carry it. You lead the way. What’s on your list?” “I mostly just need to get travel stuff…like toiletries,” you think out loud, “I guess this wasn’t really much of a big errand now that I think about it.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and he means it.

You don’t go straight to the beauty section. You’re taken by the $5 and under shelves at the front of the store, full of small decor knick knacks that he recognizes from his own apartment. This is where Tati’s always picking up those little gold tchotchkes for the coffee table and bookshelves every other month. The same way Chrissy would always have new, tiny holiday themed pieces every year to sneak onto their mantle.

“So, do you want me to keep you on task?” he asks, falling in step next to you, watching your fingers toy over a felted bunny figurine for Easter, “Or do you want me to aid in you not being on task?”

You look over at him, eyes scanning over his frame. He catches the way your eyes linger on the way his t-shirt fits him under his leather jacket and denim vest. Dark olive green, a touch too tight in the chest, collar worn out just enough so that the ends of his collar bones peeked through.

“We have all day, right?” you smirk.

“All day,” he nods, “You a walking through the aisles type of girl?”

“Is that a deal breaker?” you ask, attention captivated by a lavender ceramic pencil holder in the shape of a rainbow.

“No, not at all,” he assures, taking you by surprise when he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’m a walking through the aisles type of guy.”

“Was I looking a little too good while perusing the five dollar shelf?” you tease while you move onward into the store, stopping to thumb through a rack of jeans.

“Well that’s the thing,” he says with a tilt of his head, “You’re always lookin’ a little too good.”

He hums when you roll your eyes, “Hmm. How’d I know that was coming?”

“Why’re you so nice to me all the time, huh?” you fake argue, bored with looking at clothes and taking deliberate steps towards home goods to the bath section. Eddie hurries to keep up, basket clicking and clacking in his hand.

“I guess I can be mean to you, but I feel like that would make me a shitty date,” he jokes back, “And an even worse Uber driver.”

“So true, actually. Zero stars,” you nod, running your hand over a towel that matches the color of his shirt, “Y’know green’s a really good color for you? Makes your eyes pop.”

“Oh…” he can feel himself turning red when you say that. So she’s been looking at my eyes? Is she always secretly sort of checking me out the way I’m always secretly sort of checking her out? Does she think I’m cute or something? Why am I trying to propose to her right now? Is it ‘cause we’re looking at towels?

“Um, thank you. I’ll um, I’ll wear it more often,” he runs a hand over his face while you continue to look at towels, turning the corner to look at the fancier ones. You laugh at his jittery response, not so much at him, not teasing, but – this guy covered in tattoos, stomping in combat boots, definitely has a knife in his back pocket, chains dangling down the side of his pants, is blushing bright red just because you said he looks good in green. This guy?

“You should,” you encourage, turning to see his reddened face, “What happened to not being nervous?”

“That’s a rule for you,” he says, walking a few steps ahead of you. His eyes catch on a soap dispenser, it’s the same one he had in the master bathroom back with Chris, “I can be as nervous as I want.”

“Ah, I see, rules for thee, not for me,” you nod slowly.

“See! Now you’re getting it,” he says over his shoulder. He reaches his free hand back toward you, eyes meeting yours, tossing you a smile when you look at his hand and back at him, “Yeah, I want you to hold it.”

When your fingers slide in to lace with his he realizes his hands are a little sweaty. They weren’t last time you saw him, with your hand cradled in between his on his knee at the bar. He was a couple drinks in then, not forced to face the action fully. Not aware enough to realize he was holding a pretty girl’s hand in public on a domestic date and all he can think about is railing you in the backseat of his Honda Civic and also making a mental note of all the color choices you like so when you eventually move in together he already knows what you — Jesus fucking Christ you have soft hands. You guide him through the rest of the bathroom section, stopping briefly to consider whether or not you need more hand towels for your apartment and then shaking it off. He let’s you take him around the corner to mattress covers, you talk about your Casper mattress and how you still aren’t sure if you really like it two years later. He hears himself respond in a fog but he’s caught up on how right it feels to be here with you, to be holding your hand, holding your Target basket for you, listening to you talk about whatever.

You get to bedding and stop at the throws, Eddie’s fog lifts when you let go of his hand to take one of them off the shelf. A dark green knitted blanket replaces his hand, folded up neat and tidy in its wrap-around casing.

“This is so perfect for my living room,” you murmur to yourself, “It’s so cute.”

Eddie leans against the shelf while you let your senses absorb the knit: touch, sight, smell. You peer at the other colors, unhappy with the rest, balancing the blanket on your hip while you look back at the empty spot where it once sat. Your eyes roll again, shoulders slumping for real this time.

“Not seventy five dollars cute,” you grumble, putting the blanket back on the shelf.

“Seventy five dollars?” he asks, aghast, brown eyes rounding in surprise, “What, did they shear the sheep here or something?”

“That’s capitalism for ya,” you click your tongue, giving the blanket one last look with a little pout, “Oh well, I’m sure I can find a dupe or something at TJ Maxx.”

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he consoles, taking your hand back and giving it an apologetic squeeze.

“Sweetheart…” you repeat back, “That’s cute.”

“That’s cute? Okay,” he smiles down at the tile under his feet, teeth showing, “I’ll keep note of that.”

You both continue your journey through bedding, crossing through the Hearth & Hand showcase where he listens to you gripe about how you swear it’s a scam. None of this shit should be this expensive. Like, I could get all this shit at H&M Home online for twenty dollars less. What, just cause they’re on TV? Frickin’ ridiculous. He still stands by thinking that you’re cute when you’re mad. He can’t let go of your hand. He doesn’t even care that you’re both so far from travel toiletries, that you likely forgot why you were even here. He just likes this, being in Target with you, holding your hand while you yell about something.

“Oh, hold on, I gotta look at these,” you squeeze his hand before you let go again, walking ahead of him while Matchbox Twenty’s 3AM fades into Des’ree’s You Gotta Be.

“Decorative wicker baskets?” he asks, stepping back to look at the wall of wicker baskets of all sizes in the back of the store.

“I need two for under my dresser,” you say, reaching up to grab one and looking at the tag for the dimensions, “S’for my socks and stuff.”

He tosses you a look and you look back at him, “Don’t ask.”

You get lost in the task, two stepping with a little sway to your hips, small movements. You sing along to the song while you pull one basket down and put it back, and so on. You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. You aren’t mocking him when you sing along but the lyrics feel like they are. You’re so into it, too. He guesses this is what you’re like when no one’s around to watch you. How unfortunate that you’re so kissable even when you think no one is around to see it.

“Hey,” he says, putting the basket down, “What did I say about looking too good?”

“What?” you turn around, eyes rounded, almost startled, “Am I taking too long?”

“No,” he says with a furrow of his brow, approaching you gently while he crosses into your personal space. His voice drops a little lower, lips lingering close to yours, “No baby, not at all. Just looking really cute over here.”

You can’t help but feel girlish when he’s like this, giggling while heat floods your cheeks and chest.

“C’mere,” he whispers, pressing you back with his body so you’re flush with the shelves against the wall. His nose brushes yours, fingers finding your chin to tilt you up toward him where his mouth can taste you and you can taste him. He starts slow, just a test, shrouded in the lower light of the back decorative basket aisle, lips parting slightly to see if you’ll match it. He puffs a small breath against the ridge of your upper lip and it’s enough to send you into a frenzy. His body presses close up against you, kiss gaining fervor, hands coming up to cup around your cheek and neck to guide you with him

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, breaking away, “We’re gonna get in trouble.”

“You think I’m scared of getting in trouble?” he clicks his tongue before grinning at you. Looks like you don’t do trouble. His lips ghost over yours, skating softly over your cheek to get to your ear, “I’ve been gettin’ kicked out of Targets since 2007, sweetheart.”

His teeth graze your ear lobe, your hands reaching to clutch the soft leather of his jacket, a small sigh puffs out of you. He’s not sure if it’s pushing it, but the aisle is empty, and whatever he’s doing, he’s pretty sure you like it – his lips drop from your earlobe to the edge of your jaw, settling on a slow, wet open mouth kiss on your neck before meeting your mouth again.

“Ed,” you mumble quietly, “I can’t be turned on at Target.”

“Yes you can,” he giggles, stealing another gentle kiss from you.

“Uh…hey folks,” a timid voice calls from the end of the aisle. You both break away, embarrassment clearly taking you over while you cover your face in your hands. A younger guy in a red t-shirt and khaki slacks waves awkwardly when he has both of your attention.

“Sorry to uh, to interrupt but, um – y’know, this is a family friendly store and we just – yeah, I’m sorry. You’re not in trouble or anything,” he offers, stumbling over his words.

“Thanks man,” Eddie says genuinely, giving him a wave back, “Sorry about that, just uh, caught up in the moment I guess. Baskets really do it for her, y’know?”

The guy nods, walking away when a small thwap of the back of your hand hits his chest.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you laugh, changing your voice to mock him, “Baskets really do it for her. Fuck all the way off.”

Eddie laughs with you, picking up the Target basket and placing it in your hand, “Look, I gotta pee so bad. Do you think you can man the aisles yourself while I go and take care of that?”

You nod, “Just text me when you’re done and I’ll tell you where I am, okay?”

“Cool,” he nods back, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, “See you in a bit.”

hey, where are you at? easter stuff, i got distracted very godly of you

He bustles through the aisles, realizing now that you’re on the totally opposite side of the store than you were before. He spots you where all the candy is, your basket full of your toiletries. “Easter candy?” he asks.

“It’s the best holiday candy, easily,” you confess, “I know people will probably say Halloween since that’s the candy holiday, but dude, there’s something about Cadbury eggs.”

“Yeah?” he reaches out and takes the basket out of your hand gently, you don’t protest when he does, “Isn’t it supposed to be from the UK? Don’t they have better chocolate by proxy?”

“I think so,” you agree while Eddie strolls a little further down the aisle, “Have you ever had them?”

“I’m sure I have,” he says, fingers tracing over a chocolate bunny in a box, “I guess I’m more of a Halloween guy.”

“Boring,” you sing, holding two small bags of Cadbury eggs in your hands. Eddie holds the basket in front of him while you gear up to toss one in.

“Kobe!” you shout, the candy leaving your fingers in a lay up toss, floating through the air only to fall at Eddie’s feet on the tile.

“Too soon,” Eddie shakes his head solemnly, reaching down to grab the chocolate and put it in the red basket in his arm, “How’re you gonna call out a legend’s name and then miss?”

“I feel like you moved it so that I’d miss,” you accuse playfully.

“I kept it exactly where it was, I think you’re just not very good at basketball,” he says, making his way towards you. You put the other bag in with the rest of your stuff and look up at him through half lidded eyes. He matches your gaze while he looks at you.

“You just don’t wanna see me be great,” you tease.

“Oh, stop,” he tutts, “You’re very great.”

Neither of you can help but kiss again. It feels natural to do it at this point.

“You get everything you need to get?” he asks against your lips. You nod, a little ‘mhm’ squeaks out of your throat, “Good, cause they can’t yell at us for making out in the parking lot. So we should head out of here soon.”

The remainder of the errands and lunch go by like a blur to him. Saturday meant busy restaurants so instead you opted for fast food in the parking lot, starting the drive home sharing Wendy’s waffle fries over the center console.

Before you pull out of the lot, he flicks your music on again, opting to just leave it on shuffle because he feels like he learns you better that way. What’s going to come up next that’ll surprise him? What’s he gonna find out about you?

‘Baby, I know you’re hurting, Right now you feel like you could never love again. Now all I ask, is for a chance, to prove, That I love you.’

Eddie barks out a laugh, takes a sip of his Sprite, and then laughs again, “Oh shit. I haven’t heard this song in years!”

“You know this song, too?” you ask, surprised again at his music repertoire.

“You really don’t think I’m cultured, do you?” he jokes, “I have a deep affinity for the Backstreet Boys, though I will admit I was an NSYNC boy myself growing up.”

“Of course,” you murmur with an eye roll, “What’s your favorite NSYNC song?”

“Ooh, let me see,” he thinks while he turns onto the highway, “Definitely Drive Myself Crazy. I’d always try to hit JC’s runs.”

“You knew their names too?”

“I told you already, I grew up in a trailer park. I had the same babysitter from two to eleven,” he explains, “Mrs. Grandy watched me until her daughter Summer turned thirteen and then I’d go and pal around with her and her friends. I was like her little brother, I practically lived there.”

“Were you always there?” you ask, “At your babysitter’s house?”

“Yeah. My uh, my mom died when I was seven but she was always working and tryna stay out of the house when my dad came home so I was always at the sitters. He’s y’know – he’s in jail but he was in and out of it when I was a kid, too. Got arrested for beating on her a couple months before she died and my uncle moved up from North Carolina to take care of me. But he worked nights so – if I wasn’t at school I had to have someone watch me while he slept and then someone had to be at the trailer while I slept. It was way easier when I was in school – but anyway – wow – off topic there – yes, I spent a lot of time with my babysitter and her mom,” he finishes.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, reaching over to give his knee a reassuring squeeze.

“No, don’t be. It’s okay. I’m okay – I turned out pretty cool, I think,” he shrugs.

“You’re really cool,” you smile, Eddie smiles back.

“What’s your favorite Backstreet Boys song?” he asks.

“Hey Mr. DJ, easy,” you tell him, “It’s the most fucknasty song they’ve ever made and it still holds up. Like, I want it played at my wedding. I’m trying to make a child to that song.”

Eddie loses it at fucknasty, head falling back on the headrest while his chest bounces, “The most fucknasty song? We’ll have to play that next.”

“You won’t be disappointed,” you say, “AJ sings it and he was my favorite.”

“Oh, baby, that does not surprise me at all,” he grins. Calling you baby sounds comfortable now, even after just talking for a week. He’s not sure how fast or slow these things are supposed to go, but your little smile every time he says it makes him wanna say it more.

“I saw them in concert, when I was like, nine or ten or something,” Eddie says, “For their Millenium Tour – was when I Want It That Way was huge.”

“You got tickets?” you ask, a teasing grin splitting your face.

“Summer was a huge Backstreet Boys and NYSNC fan, like, posters all over her room. Had every magazine they were in that she could find, everything. So all we would do when she would watch me was listen to them and talk about them, so I liked them because she liked them and I thought she was cool,” he starts.

“So anyway, she finds out on the radio that they’re giving away tickets to a show in Columbus – cause like, no one fucking comes to Indiana to play shows – and she calls in and wins! She literally went into shock. But we ended up going and she brought me instead of her friend because she was like ‘Mom, he’s family’. Which as an adult, makes me fucking melt y’know? But as a kid I was like ‘Damn you’re gonna drag me to Ohio to see a boy band? I wanna see Tool.’”

“Not Tool!” you laugh.

“But it was cool cause we got to stay in a hotel for a night and all that other shit. It felt really special, her mom got us t-shirts which I’m sure cost her a fortune but – damn. I had a lot of fun.”

“It sounds like you did.”

“The most crazy thing though – which I’ve never told anyone so, I hope you feel special – was when I saw them perform, I thought like, ‘Wow, I wanna do this when I grow up.’ So in a way, if it wasn’t for the Backstreet Boys, I would’ve never realized I wanted to be a rockstar,” he confesses, “And I mean, obviously I was really into rock, and metal, and folk-punk stuff ‘cause of Wayne, but seeing those guys on stage? Everyone screaming? I was like ‘Damn, I wanna be up there! I wanna be shredding up there!’”

“I love that,” you reply, a warm smile spread across your face while you watch him relive the memory in his head.

He shrugs, “It was a cool dream to have but, I don’t know. That ship has long sailed.”

“What do you mean? Long sailed? You can still be a rockstar,” you argue, a fry crunching soft between your teeth.

He shakes his head, slight defeat caressing his tone, “No I can’t. I’m too old now.”

“Too old? Shut up,” you assert through a mouthful of waffle fry, “Metallica’s still out there playing. Iron Maiden is literally on tour right now. And they’re all like – in their sixties for fuck’s sake.”

“Okay?” he huffs back, the red from the hazard lights of the car in front of you flashes against his face, “And? They all got famous when they were like, twenty or younger. I’m fucking…thirty-two.”

“Exactly! You’re only thirty-two,” you exclaim while he rolls to a stop at a red light. Your hand reaches out to squeeze his arm, “You have so much time. You can literally be a rockstar whenever.”

Eddie’s chest gets tight when you say that – it had been a while since he heard that type of encouragement. He’d missed the feeling of someone cheering him on from the bar while he was on stage, Chrissy’s praise when they’d get home. Wayne calling to tell him he saw a review of their set in the paper. Lately the shows felt sad to him, he felt lonely, even though he was always the happiest when he could make it on that stage.

“You can’t be saying shit like that to me,” he says knowingly, maneuvering his arm so that he can take your hand in his.

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a hint of sullenness that breaks his heart. He kisses your knuckles before resting his and your hand on your thigh, the light changing to green.

“‘Cause you’re gonna make me fall in love with you.” Your eyes cast down at his hand on your thigh, your smile tight, stretching painfully across your cheeks, “Oh, okay. I’ll be meaner if that’s not what you’re going for.”

“It’s definitely what I’m going for,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly.

The mood in the car shifts to comfortable silence, I’ll Never Break Your Heart fading out into the opening croons of Leon Bridges’ Coming Home. You lean your head on the window, looking at the cars passing you on the highway, the light flecks of rain hitting the glass as the car keeps its speed. Eddie lets go of your hand, palm stretching over the mass of your thigh, running soothingly up and down on your leggings. His thumb rubs soft and slow over the outside of your quad, he just wants to touch you. It’s a comforting touch, no implications other than – I like being here with you right now.

‘The world leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, girl. You're the only one that I want, Wanna be around. Wanna be around, girl, Wanna be around, girl, Ooh, wanna be around, girl...’

“I like this,” Eddie says, his voice soft, “Who is this?”

“Leon Bridges,” you answer, “The whole album is so good. It honestly sounds even better on vinyl.”

“I was just about to say, I bet it sounds great on vinyl,” he enthuses, “I like the old timey vibe.”

“It’s cozy, right?” you ask.

“Very cozy,” he nods, tossing a look over to you. Your eyes are heavy lidded, breath steady in your chest, “You gettin’ sleepy?”

“Kinda,” you yawn, “You’re not boring me or anything, I promise.”

“That’s okay,” he offers you a soft pat on the thigh, returning back to the slow back and forth that was putting you to sleep, “We’ll be home soon-ish, just take a nap.”

You frown, “You sure? Am I being lame?”

“Nah, you’re not being lame,” he assures. Your eyes flutter closed, the warm cascade of his hand continues while they do.

After a long stretch of highway, Eddie turns the car into your part of town, a sadness washing over him that he has to drop you off and then go home to his apartment for the remainder of this rainy evening. For a flicker of a moment he wants to be selfish and ask if you wanna just kick it at his house, but he knows you have stuff to do before this trip. Envy seeps into his sadness that your boss gets to spend so much time with you, gets to watch you laugh, gets to watch you solve problems, gets to watch you do anything all day. Is it healthy to feel like this so quickly? I don’t know her like that, he wonders, Is it that sort of thing where like, if you know you know? Or am I being kind of insane right now?

“What’d I miss?” you ask, rising from your mini-nap in the car. You frown when you see your surroundings, so much closer to home than you hoped.

“A few showtunes and Mariah’s Vision of Love,” he says, your sleepy voice tugging on his heart and lips, “I’m partial to My All but that’s cause I’m a professional sad boy.”

“My All is on there, but it’s probably good I was out for Vision of Love – you didn’t have to hear me screlting it in the small confines of this car,” you laugh.

“Do you sing?” he asks. You shake your head no.

“I did musicals in high school, as you can see by the showtunes,” you explain, “But I wouldn’t call myself much of a singer.”

“I’m sure I’ll find out if that’s true sooner or later,” he offers. It’s part way through Good Charlotte’s Girls & Boys, volume low so he didn’t disturb you sleeping.

“This song makes me laugh,” you say, he feels your hand find his, still sitting firm on your lap. You play with his rings, twirling them around his fingers, he swallows hard.

“Like, so many songs that came out around this time, even a couple years after – now they just sound like women’s empowerment.”

“Tell me more,” he says, turning onto your street, the ache creeping back up again.

“Like, ‘Girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money.’ Is that supposed to be a dig? Of course I like cars and money – I’m a person. ‘Paper or plastic, don’t matter, she’ll have it.’ Like it’s a bad thing! Sounds like she’s thriving, he’s paying for everything and she didn’t even ask him to, she’s just sitting there looking hot!” you continue, “Sounds like a dream to be honest!”

“Yeah!” he nods, mulling it over in his head, “Fuckin’ – good for her!”

“I’m happy for her!” you laugh, he laughs with you. It’s nice to laugh so much with you, he likes that you’re sort of goofy in your own right. He pulls up to your house, pulling in to park in front of the walk way. Both of your laughs quiet down, you both look at the house through your window and the air in the car changes.

“I don’t wanna go,” you frown, shoulders slumping, “I wanna keep hanging out.”

“I know,” he says gently, “I wanna keep hanging out, too – but you got stuff you need to get ready for tomorrow.”

“I know,” you scrunch your nose, “So stupid.”

“So stupid,” he agrees, “How dumb that you have to go to a really cool expo where the weather’s nice.” “Well when you put it like that,” you say with a tilt of your head and a smile.

“Let me get your stuff out of the trunk,” he offers, getting out of the car into the smattering of rain. He pops the trunk and grabs your bags, coming over to your side to open your door for you.

“Here,” he says, offering you your toiletries, Old Navy exchange (and a few other purchases), and a Sephora bag with definitely more than just your boss’s sunscreen in it. You thank him and lean in for a kiss but he grins, turning away from you to go back to the trunk, “Sorry, forgot a bag.”

He reappears with the trunk closes, another Target bag in his hands that he passes to you. The weight reveals what it is before you look, but you peek to be sure, “Ed…”

“I didn’t really have to pee,” he confesses, “You just really liked it and you looked so sad when you put it back so, you know, I just wanted to do something nice.”

“It’s really nice,” you smile, looking down at the green Casaluna blanket nestled in the bag, “I just don’t want to like…feel like I owe you something.”

“No, no, no,” he hurriedly shakes his head, “Please don’t feel like that. This really was just like – it’s not like a power move or anything I’m not like that, I promise – I don’t want anything in return, seriously.”

“Except maybe a picture when it’s all set up nice in your living room,” he grins. Your eye rolls make his heart flutter because so far, you always kiss him after you do it and this time is no exception.

“I’ll see you when I come back,” you say, wincing as the rain starts to pick up. “You act like you’re going to war, sugar,” he teases, “Like you’re not gonna text me in five minutes.”

“Ew, bye,” you scowl, giving him a peck before hustling up the walkway to find refuge on the covered porch.

“Bye,” he calls out, bottom lip tucking between his teeth in the afterglow of another good date. He gets back in the car and waits for you to get in safely before driving away towards his own apartment. At a red light, his phone goes off, just five minutes since he’s pulled away. He opens his texts, a full belly laugh barking from his mouth. it looks great in my living room. oh shit it’s only been five minutes. 😡 fuck you.

By day two of your trip, Eddie was already homesick for you. Savoring every message you could send his way when you weren’t busy, but also trying his best not to text you back immediately so he didn’t seem needy. Or worse, desperate. He liked it the most when you’d send pictures: big pink quartz bathtubs, amethyst arm chairs, huge chunks of malachite that were the size of his hand.

these would make cool dice for d&d, right? the coolest. you should buy that and then hand carve the dice for me. let me pull a grand out of my ass real quick so i can get to work on that. so needy. oh, so you miss me? of course i do :) i miss you, too :)

“So when’re we gonna meet your mystery girlfriend?” Robin asks, swirling her rum and coke with her straw, “Or does she go to a different school in Canada that we wouldn’t know about?”

Steve snickers with Robin, two mean girls who always mean girl together. It was a Tuesday, which meant Robin and Steve would meet up for Happy Hour at a bar near Nancy’s office for the paper and then bother everyone else to come meet them until everyone showed up. The three sat at the corner of the bar, Steve in the center in his business casual. Patagonia vest over his blue button up, hair perfectly windswept with his sunglasses tucked into his t-shirt collar. Picture perfect finance bro with his mean lesbian guard dog to bark at any woman who might hurt his feelings. Eddie was convinced that if Robin wasn’t gay, they would’ve gotten married the day that they met.

“Well she’s not my girlfriend yet, for one,” Eddie starts, defensively, “And if you wanna know if she’s real, here’s her Instagram.”

He passes his phone to Robin who swipes through your photos with a nod, a smile pulling across her face, “Not bad at all, Munson.”

“Let me see,” Steve demands with a slight whine, plucking the phone from her hand. He scrolls, a touch of a salacious smirk spreading across his face, “Oh, smash. Immediately smash.” Steve passes Eddie’s phone back to him on the table, screen open to a risque picture of you on the beach, “You didn’t fuck?”

“Not yet, Harrington,” Eddie sighs, “I’ll be sure to let you know the moment I slip it in, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” Steve shrugs, “I would’ve fucked her already.”

“Yeah, we know loverboy,” Robin teases. Eddie’s shoulders tense a little because if Steve wanted you, he’d definitely be able to take you. He’s hot and charismatic, he has more money than he knows what to do with, and at the end of the day – Steve loves women. All kinds of women. Eddie swore Steve would leave college with a taste for thin blondes that were in his frat’s sister sorority but every night it was someone new. And every night, Steve Harrington got what Steve Harrington wanted.

“Tell her to follow me,” Steve winks.

“It’s the first thing I did when I met her, actually – told her to follow you,” Eddie jokes back.

what’re you doing? happy hour with the group. well right now just rob and steve but everyone else is on the way. fun! i bought a new bathing suit at a vendor because i have bad impulse control. also look at these cool rocks. oh, sick – what kind are they? the vendor said they’re ocean jasper do you want one? will you get a matching one with me? also linger is playing at the bar right now and it’s…making me think about you? stupid as hell. absolutely will get us matching ones. i love that song. who said you could be this cute? pretty sure i did. steve says hi by the way, he’s ‘linger’ing over my shoulder. lmao you’re so corny “Is she gonna send you a picture of her in the bathing suit or not?” he asks impatiently. “She’s still working, man,” Eddie flips his phone over so the screen can’t be seen, “And even if she does, I’m not gonna show it to you.” “Yeah, don’t be such a perv Steve,” Robin sasses, “Get me another rum and coke instead.”

After an hour, the rest of the group has made it and Eddie’s had three beers in a short span of time. Not enough alcohol to feel drunk, but enough alcohol that he keeps getting lost in the thought of your thighs on that barstool last week. The little overflow of your tummy in your jeans, your hips, what you might look like out of those jeans. What sounds you might’ve made if he went to your house after Target and he peeled those leggings off you. You’re busy and he’s bummed out about it only because he selfishly wishes you were here at happy hour instead of looking at cool rocks. “You look so sad right now,” Tatianna says from across the table the group has gathered round, “You miss your girl?”

Eddie pouts dramatically, nodding, “I do.” “Guys this is the one, I’ve never seen him like this before,” Tatianna grins, “He’s down bad.”

Tati reaches next to her to hold hands with Gareth giving it a squeeze, “Hinge is the truth, I’m telling you.”

“I mean, you sure? He thought Chris was the one and look how that turned out,” Mike says from the other end. Everyone sighs and groans, whines of ‘C’mon Wheeler,’ sound out of a few of them.

“When you know, you know, kid,” Gareth offers softly, “And I think Ed knows.”

“When’re we gonna meet this girl who likes your nerdy ass?” Erica giggles next to him. “Exactly what I was saying earlier,” Steve adds.

“I don’t think you need to meet her, Steve,” Dustin laughs, “Let him have something, for God’s sake.” “Well,” Nancy starts, “I mean, Steve’s party at Barcade is next week. Might be a good sort of low stakes way to ease her in.”

“That’s actually such a good idea,” Tatianna agrees.

“But I have the jazz concert for my kids that night,” Eddie sulks.

“Yeah but that ends at like, eight thirty,” she argues, “You should tell her to come. We’ll take care of her before you show up.” “I’ll take realgood care of her, Munson,” Steve grins.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s head is down on his forearms so he doesn’t know how many people started scolding Harrington over his head. This was overwhelming again – this part. Eddie thought maybe all the fussing over starting to date would be the worst but now it’s every day that they ask about you. At least twice a day in the group chat – Your girl coming to D&D? How was your date last weekend? Is she with you right now? Tell her we all said hi. Are you gonna bring her to Tati’s art show?

He doesn’t have all the answers yet and he doesn’t know where you’re at either. Do you want to meet his friends? Would you even like them?

Everyone yelling at Steve is satisfying, but it would be cooler if you were here to see it.

The following night he was up late grading papers he should’ve graded a week ago but he was too caught up in his personal life to care. Conversation with you had dwindled quickly last night as he spent more time at the bar and ended up planning the next campaign. You hadn’t reached out at all today and he felt too proud to be the one to text you first, a twinge of resentment plucking at his heart strings in his chest. Hollow loneliness drumming at his ribcage.

The papers were graded, neatly stacked and put away in his bag for tomorrow, red pen capped and put back on his desk. Eddie groans as he stands up to stretch, peeling off his t-shirt and slipping off his sweatpants, tossing them haphazardly in the corner of the room by his hamper. He kicks off his socks, finally comfortable in his boxers and silver chain, before trudging down to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back to a quiet buzz on his phone, screen glowing to life while he swipes it off his dresser.

hey, sorry i was so MIA today. things got really busy and hectic, surprise zoom meeting with bloomingdale’s and then a second surprise offer call with bergdorf goodman and then a few vendors wanted to get dinner and schmooze. it’s no excuse honestly but i should’ve messaged you to let you know i was busy. i’m sorry, handsome :( thought about you all day if that helps

Eddie’s heart leaps in his chest, cheeks already hurting from the smile splitting his face open. You thought about him all day. You thought about him all day. The same way he thinks about you all day. He climbs into bed, snuggling in under the covers with the glow of his phone illuminating his grinning face in the dark.

don’t apologize, sweetheart, i know you’re busy. glad that your hectic day is over at least, now you can relax! thought about you all day, too. one of my kids kept trying to play juicy by doja cat on the sax at jazz practice, so you came to mind immediately. LMAO. i’ll take that as a compliment. what’re you doing up so late? grading papers, but i’m done now. i’d ask why you’re up so late but it’s only nine thirty there. what’re you up to? trying this bathing suit on, finally. do you wanna see it?

“Do I wanna see it?” he murmurs, exasperated with an eye roll to no one, “Of course I wanna see it.”

yeah, show me :)

He waits with bated breath, trying his best to swipe out of the text conversation and do something else instead of counting the minutes until you reply. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits for the familiar buzz in his hand.

And there you are, dark red spandex hugging you tight, cinching you in all the right places. His eyes linger on the high cut of the bottom, the way some of the pudge of your hips pokes out at the seams and he bites his lip. ‘Fuck,’ he mumbles quietly. Your thighs on full display for him, thick and begging for him to grab, you’re so fucking grabbable he can’t even stand it.

jfc you know what you’re doing whaaaaat? what do you mean? ‘what do you meaaaannn 🤪’ you know what i mean. do you not like it? i like it a little too much you wanna see it from the back?

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters into the darkness. He feels the blood rush to his pelvis like an army command, cock partially at attention while his hand palms delicately over his boxers.

of course i do

He gulps when the picture comes in, you posed like that on purpose. One ass cheek propped up on the bathroom counter, the other lifted and perky from your stance. The soft rolls of your back on display from how you’re turned to still have your pretty face in frame. He’d fucking wreck you. Lovingly, of course.

do you want me to hop on a flight or?? how much are tickets to az? i’m about to come thru. you got enough blood in your brain to make that trip rn? lmao you know i don’t 😏 sorry i’m all the way in a different state, i’d help take care of it.

“Yeah?” he chokes out, palming turning to full slow strokes over the fabric, “You wanna take care of it for me?”

yeah? you’d take care of it? only if you asked nicely :)

“Fuck,” he whispers, tossing his phone down to reach for his side table drawer to reach for the tiny bottle of lube he kept there. He tugs down his boxers hastily, squirting some of the liquid in his palm before picking up the phone again with his clean hand.

i’d ask very nicely. i’d even say please. what a good boy. :)

“M’such a good boy,” he huffs, hand wrapping tightly around the base of his cock and dragging upwards, “I’ll be so good for you.”

would you want me to use my hands or my mouth?

“Oh my fucking God,” he groans, brain short circuiting at the thought of you on your knees while he stands over you. Eyes looking up at him with a hand tangled up in your hair, desperately trying to not thrust deep into your throat while you go to work on him. He bites his lip while he fucks his fist, palm and fingers gliding in time with his foreskin, teasing his tip. A fire lights in his belly, cooking up thoughts in his head on how he’d want you first.

i like the idea of keeping your mouth full oh you wanna shut me up? is that it? i don’t think it takes much.

His head leans back on the wall behind his bed, eyes closing while his hips roll up to meet the speed of his hand, slower now to stave it off.

“Yeah, suck it just like that…” he hums out, “Please more.” His brows pinch while he looks back at the picture you sent, your glossed lips gleaming back at him. They’d look so good around his cock, your eyes would look so good filled up with tears when you tried to deep throat him.

“T-take all of it,” he stammers out, unsure of his own dirty talk to himself. Would he actually say that?

Bzz. Bzz.

oh yeah cause you’re soooo big 🙄

“Psh,” he hisses out with a roll of the eyes, hand lifting off his cock to type back. He guesses when it comes to you, he would say that. Just so you’d stop being such a brat.

you’re gonna feel so stupid when you see it you sound very confident because i am is it big?

He looks down at himself confidently, laying fat and dense up his stomach, kicking up at the thought of you seeing it for the first time. Chrissy always gawked at it, despite how many times she’d seen it, it was always like she was seeing it for the first time. The girls he’d pull into the bathroom at The Hideout and other bars would whine at the sight. Both him and them slurring together about how they can make it fit.

its big, sweetheart. but i think you can take it. i know i can take it. so sure of yourself tonight, huh? bet you wouldn’t be so cocky if you were here. so i could watch you jerk it in your bedroom? puhlease. 🙄 i can tell by how you’re talking that you really like the idea of that. so you are jerking it in your bedroom? the same way i know you have your fingers between your pretty thighs

He doesn’t know that, but it was worth the shot. His mind reels, thinking of you barely changing out of your swimsuit into nothing to lay back on your hotel bed to touch yourself to him talking to you. He grunts when his hand wraps around his length again, fisting himself with more intention, thinking about your hips writhing in time with his. He wishes he knew how you sounded when you felt good, how you’ll sound when he makes you feel good. And god does he wanna make you feel good.

🙈 stop yeah? i can stop. don’t actually, i’m just embarrassed 😩 how come? cause i do have my fingers between my thighs

“Fuuuuuck me,” he groans into a whimper. He shudders a gasp while his hips buck up to meet his hands thrusts, imagining you on top of him, under him, below him, above him. Mouth, hands, pussy, anything of yours bobbing over his cock. Wiping the images clean and starting over with you splayed out on the hotel bed again, trying to keep quiet so your boss won’t hear you through the hotel’s thin walls.

does it feel good, sweetheart? it would feel better if you were doing it for me. can i call you?

“Can I call you?” he reads out loud, in a whisper, “Can I…call you…”

absolutely.

Your face pops up on his phone within the minute, phone buzzing rhythmically in his hands. His heart rate jerks alive, stomach dropping like he’s on a roller coaster while it continues to ring.

He accepts, swallowing thickly as he does.

“Hey there,” he murmurs.

“Hi,” your voice is shaky on the other end, he holds back a moan.

“Hi,” he says back to you, squeezing himself softly at the base again.

“Do you wanna hear something embarrassing?” you laugh, following up with a soft needy sigh.

“Always,” he swoons out, low and warm.

“Your voice is so hot to me,” you giggle, “I don’t think I could finish if I didn’t hear it.”

“Ah, there you go again, thinking your compliments to me are embarrassing,” he smirks. You sigh again and he lets out a heady breath while he strokes himself, teetering towards a climax.

“Sorry,” you smile, and he can hear it in your voice, “You having a hot voice isn’t embarrassing. Me getting off to it is embarrassing.”

He pauses, hearing your shallow breaths pick up, waiting for the right time to strike. His thumb trails over his tip to smear the precum oozing out of it over the head — his eyes roll back as he thinks about your tongue there instead.

“S’not embarrassing,” his eyelids lower, settling deeper into his pillows. He groans low in his chest before speaking again, “You all wet for me, sugar?”

“Yeah,” you whine to him.

“Wish I could be there to take care of you,” he huffs, “I’d make you feel so good.”

“How?” you ask breathily.

He smirks, biting his lower lip, letting out a low laugh, “I’d take my time with you. Sounds like you get real needy.”

“I’m not needy,” you protest.

“Not needy, but calls me from the other side of the country to cum to my voice?” he argues playfully, “Oh yeah, not needy at all, baby.”

You whine again, a few huffs of breath sound in the receiver.

“You like that?” he asks lowly, “When I’m a little mean to you?”

“Yeah…”

“Fuck…” he whispers back, blood rushing to the tip, twitching while he works his hand up his shaft.

“Wait – are you actually jacking it right now?” you ask with a laugh.

“Yeah,” he sighs back, “Are you surprised?”

“How long have you been doing it?”

“Since you sent me that picture with your whole ass out,” he confesses with a giggle, it just makes sense to him to answer honestly.

“Is that how you wanna fuck me?” your voice is laced with depth and sex, his hips buck up at the sound, “From the back?”

“Maybe not at first,” he starts, imagining he’s in the hotel with you, eyes locking on yours while you touch yourself. Meeting your pleading eyes with a salacious grin while he pumps his cock, climbing on top of the mattress. Climbing on top of you.

“I’d probably want you on your back so I could see your pretty face,” he offers, “Watch you take it.”

You sigh into the receiver again and he groans quietly while pleasure starts taking him over.

“But if I’m being honest…” he starts again, voice lightly teasing. Your breaths pick up, and if he thinks he’s hearing right, you’re very wet. Just because of him, the way he’s talking to you. He shudders before regaining his composure, voice dropping dangerously low.

“I can’t wait to get my mouth on that pussy,” he slurs out, drunk on the idea.

“Mmm, fuck,” you mewl out. Okay Munson, maybe you still know how to do this shit. “Oh, you like the sound of that, huh?” he asks, a light raise to his voice, “You like thinking about me between your legs?”

“Yes,” you huff through gritted teeth. He feels his orgasm creeping up on him quick, your little whines hitting his ear and gliding down his chest to his pelvis. Every soft puff of your breath feels like he’s the one making it punch out of you.

“I know you’d take it so good, too. You’d get so messy for me,” he groans again when his palm grazes over the underside of his tip, cock leaking cum unceremoniously, sending shockwaves through his system, “Just like you are right now, hm? Waiting for me to come over ‘n’ fuck you stupid?” “Please,” you whine into a growl, “Please fuck me stupid.”

“Oh baby, I will,” he moans while he feels his balls tighten, closer and closer to the edge, hearing you pant and beg like that. Just for him. He grunts, breath huffing from his nose like a bull while his orgasm takes him over, cum shooting onto his belly in thick ropes, “F-fuck till you can’t fuckin – mmmf – can’t fuckin’ think.” “Oh! Oh my god, fuck. Fuck!” you cry out into the receiver. He grins, satisfied at that reaction, both of you taking deep breaths into your mics while you both come down.

“Did you cum for me, sugar?” he drawls.

“Mhm,” you squeak out. His grin doesn’t fade, it turns dirty, filthy, “Good girl.”

“Don’t say that.” He can hear your embarrassed smile in your voice, it makes him laugh. He’s normally not like that, that’s not something he thinks he’s ever said in bed – at least not sober.

“I won’t say it, I’m sorry. You don’t like that?” he asks thoughtfully.

“I like it a lot and you’re too far away,” you say softly.

“Poor thing,” he offers.

“I am a poor thing!” you exclaim. You quiet down a little, both just listening to each other breathe on the other end, “I’m excited to see you again, when I come back.”

“I’m excited to see you, too,” he smiles while he speaks softly into the receiver, “But lucky for me, I have these pictures of you to hold me over until then.”

“Visual learner?” you tease. “Physical, too,” he counters.

“You really are trouble,” you laugh, “And um – I don’t want you to think that like, the only reason I wanna see you is just to have sex or anything. I just really like spending time with you.”

“I don’t think that at all,” he assures, “I really, really like spending time with you. I’m – and this is gonna sound super lame – but I’m excited to keep on getting to know you.”

“Lamest thing I’ve ever heard,” you laugh, “But also, same. We can be lame together.” “Oh – uh, by the way,” Eddie’s voice reverts back to normal while a reminder jolts his body awake, “The group really wants to meet you and I know it’s gonna be the day after you get back and you might want to rest, but Steve’s birthday party is Friday if you wanna come. Totally understand if you’re gonna be too tired.” “Oh no, I’d love that!” he can hear you shifting on the mattress, likely getting ready for bed, “Steve’s the one whose Instagram request I shouldn’t accept, right?” Eddie laughs, “Right.”

You both talk for a little longer before he tells you it’s getting late and you should get some rest since you had such a long day. He doesn’t want to hang up, but you’re both too old to be doing the ‘falling asleep on the phone’ thing. Plus, he had to be up for work in five hours.

Eddie slides into the seat on his Honda Civic and sighs – he’s tired. He doesn’t want to go to Steve’s party where everyone is gonna be loud and drunk by the time he gets there. He hates playing catch up, but you’re gonna be there so he’s doing his best to hype himself up before he starts the car. He cracks the Monster Energy sitting in his center console and chugs it, heaving a deep breath before starting the car. Mayhem’s Freezing Moon blares through his speakers and he nods to himself, Good, good, good. It would be a hype enough song to get him excited on the way there. He gives himself a once over in the rearview mirror, looking the same as he did when he freshened up in the teacher’s bathroom after the Jazz Club performed during the Spring Concert. His slim fit black slacks still kept their crease, his wallet chains still dangled from his pocket. Eddie took your advice and started wearing more green, a hunter short sleeved linen blend button up laid open and loose over a clean and expensive white t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he would say he looked hot. His hair was coiffed and coiled – he made sure to get a trim before you came back just to touch up the shag. His tattoos were the showiest you’d ever seen them and deeply moisturized, his silver chain and small rings were recently cleaned.

He wants you to lose your mind when you see him, but when he walks into the bar he knows he already lost. There you are, standing at the bar with Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin while they laugh with you at some story you’re telling. You’re all legs in your little black skirt with a cute cropped ‘ARIZONA’ sweatshirt cinching you in right at the waist. Your little white sneakers were shining purple in the black light of the bar, you probably wear these everywhere.

“Eddie!” Dustin calls out, giving a big wave to call him towards the party. You whip around, beaming while he makes his way over, meeting him part way with a drink in your hand. He can smell your perfume immediately and he’s surprised he hasn’t already fallen to his knees. “Started without me, huh?” he asks, nodding to the drink in your hand. “I tried to get Steve a drink but he said it was a better gift for him to buy me one…or two,” you tell him sheepishly. Eddie catches Steve’s eyes over your shoulder when he pulls you in to say hello and shakes his head. Steve smirks, blowing him a kiss before mouthing, ‘Her ass? Insane.’ putting his hands out to show off the size of it. Eddie flips him off while he lets you go.

“Everyone’s been really nice though,” you smile, giving him a once over, “You look really good.”

“Thank you,” he says in your ear, kissing your cheek, “You look too good. Don’t think I can let you stick around here too long.”

“S’kinda hot when you’re like that,” you grin sloppily, biting your lip. The tequila’s blurring the filter in your head a little, he can tell you’re just saying what comes to mind, eyes a little glassy.

“Like what?” “A lil’ possessive,” you shrug. He tucks a knuckle under your chin, lifting your gaze toward him for a moment. “Okay,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss you much more passionately than you expected. Your mouth is cold against his, tongue sliding in to taste the tequila on yours. He snakes one arm around your waist so that you’re chest to chest, both of you laughing against each other’s lips while Tati and the group whoop and holler over your makeout. He breaks away, looking down at you, eyes sparkling.

“I missed you,” he says confidently.

“I missed you,” you smile, pulling him tight against you. This was what he was waiting for. An ounce of clinginess so that he didn’t feel so insane for wanting to be close to you all the time. He leads you back over to the bar, hand on your lower back while you put yourself back in your little group.

“What’re you having tonight, big boy?” Ed asks Steve, clapping him on the back in a brotherly hug.

“Surprise me – you doing shots?” he asks. Eddie nods, getting the bartender’s attention when she makes his way over.

“Can I get four shots of Jameson and then two for my buddy over here?” he asks, pointing at Steve with his thumb. The bartender nods, lining up the shot glasses and starting the pour. “I don’t really like Jameson,” you scrunch your nose.

“Well baby, they’re all for me, so don’t worry about it,” he grins playfully, white teeth shining, “I’ll get you something else when you finish that drink.”

You nod lazily, pulled into conversation with Robin while Steve and Eddie start taking their shots. The whiskey feels good hitting his throat, burning just enough to reinvigorate him for the rest of the night. He clicks his tongue when he downs them all, the scent of Tatianna’s vanilla perfume overtakes him before her hands cover his eyes from behind.

“Guess who it is,” she laughs.

“Someone who used my Warm Vanilla Sugar hand lotion today,” he answers, his fingers running over hers while he peels her hands away. He turns to her to pull her into a hug and then hugging Gareth behind her, already with their drinks in hand.

“Look, it went with the fragrance I was wearing today. You used my curl cream again so – you can’t even be mad,” she shrugs, beckoning him over with her hand, “Come sit with us really quick.”

Eddie turns to get your attention but Tatianna stops him, “She’s a big girl, she’s been doing fine on her own without you here, so far. Let her make friends.” Eddie pouts and Gareth pats him on the back after passing Tati’s drink to her, guiding him over to their booth close by the end of the bar. Eddie sits in the middle of the bench, looking like a kid who just got in trouble and is about to get a stern talking to by his parents. “So…” Eddie starts.

“I really like her, dude,” Gareth grins, “Came in and immediately knew who we were, introduced herself, offered to get us a round. All around seems very much your vibe.”

“And you, mom?” he asks, eyes lifting up through his lashes to look at Tatianna who has a smug grin on her face.

“All I’m saying is that you should always be listening to me when I tell you to do something,” she shrugs, “‘Cause what if you had deleted the app that night? Would’ve never met the love of your life right there.”

“Love of my life? You think?” he asks, eyes widening. “I know. Her energy is exactly what I thought it was gonna be,” Tatianna explains, gold rings in her twists flashing back the neon reflecting on them, “And you’ve been down bad for the past few weeks so I knew there had to be something about her that was really good.”

“So you like her?” Eddie grins.

“We love her,” Tatianna nods, “Consider her adopted.”

“Steve loves her too, it looks like,” Eddie huffs, looking back over at the bar to see Steve showing you something on his phone, a little too close for comfort.

“He’s behaving himself, don’t worry,” Dustin says while he slides in next to Eddie, “We all gave him a warning before she got here. Plus, he’s got two girls on his radar right now that he’s trying to take home if he doesn’t get too drunk – but y’know, we’re banking on the getting too drunk part.”

“Always banking on the getting too drunk part,” Gareth laughs.

The night continues on, people coming and going, getting up to dance, getting new drinks. He watches you blend in seamlessly, swaying with Tatianna at the bar while you wait for a rum and coke for you and water for him. He still has to drive home after all.

“What do you know about this song?” Tatianna laughs while Victoria Monet’s Coastin’ booms over the speakers. You both walk back over, two stepping in time until Gareth pulls Tatianna in tight to him, rocking back and forth with each other and stealing kisses.

Eddie watches you approach him while you lipsync the words playfully, hips swaying in in time with the beat.

‘Think of the waaaays, The ways I wanna give you this ass, Just how you liiiiike, Feel like a Thursday how I’m throwin’ it back.’ “The ways you wanna give me this ass, huh?” he smirks, eyes flitting over you while he takes the water yor offer him. You keep up with your sway, pressing up close to him – you look up with a fake unamused quirk of your brow and he knows you’re about to say something bitchy that’ll make him fall for you even harder. “I don’t think you could handle it,” you flirt.

“You know something?” he starts, putting his water on the table of the booth, catching you before you can sit down, “I think I can handle you just fine.” You burn at his words, a shy grin pulling at your lips when he sits down at the edge of the bench next to Nancy and across from Steve and Robin. It’s fun to flirt with you like this, right on the precipice of something a little dirty. He wants you so bad and if he knows women as well as he thinks he does, he knows you want him so bad, too. He pats his thigh, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You hesitate at first but he nods encouragingly, a silent Please, it’s okay. You settle in, the table high enough that both sets of your thighs fit under the table. He takes a breath before letting his hands settle on your skin, imagining what it might be like when he gets to put his hands on all of it.

Everyone banking on Steve getting too drunk to take someone home was right, him and Robin were already in their codependent best friend phase of the night where they only want to hang out with each other, hands cupped tight on the table. You’re talking to Robin about a game that’s like Sims but 8-bit –

“It’s called Unpacking and it’s so cute, you basically unpack a house or a room and you learn more about the person’s story by unpacking their boxes – sort of like Sims but with actual feelings that you don’t have to make up,” you enthuse.

“Is it on Steam?” she asks, “I’ll literally buy it right now.”

“We’re partying, Rob, don’t play a dumb game,” Steve whines.

“She’s not gonna play it right now, Steve,” Nancy chides, “She’s gonna play it later. Don’t worry, we all know tonight is about you.”

Lucas comes over to the table looking aggravated, Max grinning next to him in a smile that Eddie knows too well. Lucas lost a bet and has to pay up, Eddie wonders what they bet on this time.

“Why does your Dragon’s Lair score have to be so fucking high? Can you literally let anyone have anything?” Lucas huffs.

“Don’t be so sad, Sinclair – you can always try to beat Red’s score,” Eddie shrugs, smirking smugly at the pair.

“She’s 250 points behind you, and you’re both like, seven thousand points ahead of everyone else,” he huffs.

“What’d’you owe her this time?” he asks.

“I can’t even tell you out loud,” he sighs. Max cackles, offering her hand and leading him back over to the Party at the bar, fingers laced with each other while they talk. Eddie adjusts under you, groin shifting under your ass by accident but he savors how delicious it feels to have you on top of him like this.

“Are there any other games in there that you have a high score on?” you ask, breath hitching slightly while his hands coast teasingly over your bare skin under the table. Your posture straightens when his fingers glide up your inner thigh, brushing his fingertips past the hem of your skirt. You like that, he thinks, your body language tells him all he needs to know to keep going.

“The Dracula pinball machine,” he replies confidently.

“I’m gonna go beat it,” you grin up at him.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, hand sliding off your thigh when you get up to head to the arcade room, “You even know how to play?”

“You can show me,” you shrug. He doesn’t really have to show you, pinball is pretty self explanatory, but he doesn’t want to give up a chance to have you alone. He leads you to the machine, pointing out where you want the ball to hit for the best chance at extra points. The music on the sound system is loud and the machine’s music matches it so he has to get close to your ear to explain.

“Do you think I don’t really know how to play or do you just wanna get close to me?” you ask, turning your head to look at him while he chin hooks over your shoulder. “You caught me,” he blushes, hand resting on your hip while he fills the gap between your back and his chest, “I’m sure you’re gonna do just fine.”

And you do, in fact, you’re really fucking good at pinball and he’s almost mad about it. “Where did you learn to do this?” he asks after you rack up nearly three fourths of his high score in one go, the ball just narrowly missing the lever before sinking down to be propelled again.

“Summers on the boardwalk in New Hampshire,” you grin, “My uncle lives over there so we go visit him every year. Played one pinball machine every summer – my high score still stands, like, eleven years later.” “That’s so hot to me, oh my god,” he laughs while you get the next ball rolling onto the board. You lean forward, hips jutting out against him while you really get into it, concentrating hard. Eddie’s breath hitches when you slowly move your hips against him, so slow that he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not. Rihanna’s Work starts over the speakers and that’s when he knows it’s on purpose. Your movement’s pick up a little, lost in the game and in the beat. You’re a good dancer and that makes his mind wander to other things you might be good at. Your fingers work quick on either side of the machine, lights flashes against both of your faces while you keep trying to win and he keeps trying to not pull your skirt up in the middle of Barcade.

While the song continues, he stops paying attention to you playing, so caught up in how your waist winds and ass bounces against him that he doesn’t realize you aren’t even playing any more. His hips grind slowly back against you, one hand on your lower back, the other gripping your hip to keep you in position. This isn’t new territory for him, pulled into clubs by Tati and Gare, Robin and Steve, everyone else, from the moment things opened back up again in Indiana. When you look back at him he short circuits at first, but he knows you’re surprised he can dance like this. Maybe you forgot, but he does teach Music Theory – rhythm is kind of his whole thing. Of course he has it.

Your hips roll, making your ass run painstakingly slow and firm over his hardening cock. A groan gets stuck in his throat, reaching out to your shoulder to pull you up right again with your back against his chest.

“You like bein’ a tease?” he asks, voice deep and daunting.

“Just getting you back for what you did under the table,” you say matter-of-factly, turning around to face him with your butt leaning against the machine, “You’re not the only one here who knows how to be a slut.” “Also, I beat you,” you grin.

“Looks like you did,” he says, eyes passing yours to look at the new high score glowing on the outdated screen.

“Do I win a prize?”

“M’sure I can think of something,” he murmurs, lips pressing against yours while both of your eyes flutter closed. He takes your hand, leading you to the dark corner close by, both of you hidden by the now defunct change machine to press you up against the wall. “What do you think you deserve?” he purrs before catching your mouth in his again. His kiss is a little sloppy, a little needy, it’s the four shots of Jameson. Not too drunk to drive, but buzzed enough that he doesn’t care about his kissing technique, he just wants to taste you. “Oh, it’s like that?” you giggle mischievously, “I don’t think we can do what I think I deserve in a public place.”

“Hmm, okay, not into exhibitionism I guess,” he huffs a laugh while his kisses trail to your neck, knee slotting between your legs where you eagerly press up against him. He feels one of your hands fall into his hair, making his assault on the crook of your neck more intense when you give it a slight pull. “Kiss me,” you whine softly. “M’sorry, sorry,” he smirks, meeting your lips again, “You just smell really good, I like being in there.” “You’re a really good –” Kiss. “Mmm--kisser.” “Thanks, sugar, you’re –” Kiss. “Not so bad your –” Kiss. “Mmm shit – yourself.” He can barely think like this, so close to you but not close enough. Hands on your waist and hips to guide you against part of his thigh while a little whine pulls out of you. He can’t hold off much longer, feeling his pants grow unbearably tight.

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles against your jaw, a satisfied smile blooms on his face when you roll your hips against his knee again.

“You don’t wanna hear everyone drunkenly sing Steve happy – oh, mmm – happy birthday?” you pant out while he presses kisses at the curve of your jaw back to your mouth. His hand entwines with the hair at the nape of your neck, giving you a soft tug to keep your head in place.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now,” he purrs in your ear, “Is what you sound like when I’m making you cum.”

The ride home is quick, barely saying goodbyes while he pulled you through the crowds building at the bar and paid the tab. Gareth shot him a wink as they left, tossing you both a wave but neither of you could think of anything else except each other.

He dropped his keys twice trying to get in the door of his first floor apartment, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you smile, “Just breathe. I’m still gonna be here.”

The door opens and he takes a millisecond to rip your coat off and kick off his shoes, instructing you to kick off your sneakers or Tati would likely emerge from the walls and kill you both for walking into the house with your outside shoes on. His lips immediately attach to yours. There’s no time to waste for him, pulling you over to the couch and plopping down with an excited puff of breath. “C’mere baby,” he beckons you over with two fingers, grinning up at you while you climb over his lap to straddle him. His kiss is searing, hands exploring you with abandon, all the ways he’s been thinking about touching you were now fair play. No one here to see either of you, no one around to interrupt. You can feel how hard he is under his dress pants, the material leaves little to the imagination. The gentle curve of it, its thickness, the length, all pressing up against you with every mutual roll of your hips.

You choke out a whimper when it hits just right up against your clothed slit. Eddie looks up at you mischievously, greedily sucking on your neck for a moment before catching your gaze a little.

“That’s all it takes? Just pushing my hips up like that?” he purrs, rolling them up again slowly, “Is that what you want?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe. He bites at the skin on your chest, not hard enough to hurt. He grips and grabs you but not hard enough to bruise. He’s testing the waters, seeing what you like and how you like it. His hands travel down past your hips, gripping the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your mouth, exploring you more, his palms flattening against your skirt while it rides up, the curve of your cheeks warm in his hands.

“Finally got to grab it the way you wanted to?” you tease between breaths.

“Mhmm,” he groans, “Now I just gotta smack it around.”

You take his lower lip between your teeth, making his cock twitch when you let it go to click back against his gums.

“Ooh, you wanna spank me?” you laugh into your next kiss. His hand reaches up to pull at your waist, pushing you tighter up against him. His fingers graze between your legs from behind while your head falls back in a breathy gasp.

“Do you want me to spank you?” he asks, brows raised inquisitively.

“Maybe not tonight,” you shrug with a smirk, hips winding over him in a way that makes him really feel you. He growls when you do it, hands guiding your hips to do it again, “Maybe only when I’ve been bad.”

“Jus’lemme know,” he grumbles, pupils taking over the brown in his eyes, “So I can — mmm, shit — teach ya a lesson.”

“Next time,” you huff into his next kiss. He manhandles you so that your back is to the cushions and throw pillows, switching your positions so that he’s on top.

“Next time,” he nods, pulling your sweatshirt off and dropping it to the floor, “But since you’re so good, it only makes sense that you get a reward, right?”

“I did beat you at pinball, so…” you grin. He grins back, kissing your neck hungrily, slotting his knee between your legs like he did at the bar.

“You did beat me at pinball,” he nods, a soft growl brewing in his chest when he feels you start to grind against him. Insatiable, he thinks, Greedy girl. But he doesn’t know if he can say that to you yet. He doesn’t know, all the way, what you like. He feels his heart hammer in his chest at the fear of realizing it – you aren’t Chrissy. What if he was only good because Chrissy thought so? What if he wasn’t actually –

“Oh!” you squeak out, hand reaching out to grip his bicep.

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away from your neck to look at you, big brown eyes blown with nerves.

“Y-yeah that’s just…where you’re kissing…that’s a spot for me,” you admit bashfully, unable to look at him.

“Sweetheart,” he shakes his head with a knowing smirk, “Shouldn’t’ve told me that.”

A kiss on the lips is his only consolation to you before he goes back to your neck, tongue trailing down to its last spot where he parks his teeth and lips. You like that. He hears you like it. And fucking God is it good to hear you like this, to hear you in person, moaning and whining in his ear just from kissing and sucking this spot on your neck.

“Eddie…” you breathe, high pitched and desperate, hips still pressing against his knee for friction. He can’t help but go back to your lips, but before he does, he peeks to see the marks he left behind.

Lips become neck, neck becomes chest, chest becomes stomach, stomach becomes hips, and before you know it he’s on his knees on the rug in front of you. Eddie’s eyes find yours when he’s kneeling between your legs, the center of your thighs looking him in the face. He places a kissing on the inside of your knee, gentle and soft.

He opens his mouth to ask, but you nearly read his mind, tugging up the hem of your skirt over your thick thighs. He helps, pushing the fabric up over your hips and ass so he gets another chance to touch and feel you. Once he settles back down he takes a breath, smiling up at you while he readjusts your legs to open a little wider, mouth making contact with your skin soon after. His lips capture the fat of your inner thigh, traveling down in passionate kisses, like your skin is divinity that he’s found for the first time.

“You’re so soft,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your underwear to reach the top of your other knee, planting a kiss there too.

“Thank you,” you breathe out. He lets out a low, teasing giggle at the state of you, head lolling back on the couch while he kisses the inside of one thigh and runs his hand over the outside of the other. His kisses stop and he looks up at you from between your legs, big brown eyes begging you to let him in. A ringed finger teases over the gusset of your underwear, the way you bite your lip gives him the approval to keep going. His slides your panties off, run of the mill black cheeky cut cotton that he wished he could’ve stripped you down to. Just to see that ass swallowing them, to see the way they sat on the curves of your hips.

“You nervous?” he asks with a smile while your legs close, your underwear placed on the floor next to your shirt.

“A little,” you giggle.

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he coos, hands cupping under your knees to spread your legs again, “Just gonna make you feel good.”

He sighs when your legs open up for him, already wet and puffy, you’d been thinking about this all night. Eddie nips softly at your inner thigh again before he lets his lips linger over your folds. You squirm your hips closer to him, a whine leaking out of your mouth.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, “I won’t tease you, I’m sorry.”

But he’s lying. Leaning in to get close, only to ghost a breath over your clit. Fingers sliding to your slick lips to separate them slightly for more access to you. He pauses, leaning back away from your pussy and looks up at you quizzically.

“Actually, should I put on Hey Mr. DJ to set the mood? Since it’s so fucknasty…” gesturing his thumb towards the sound system on the other side of the room. You let out a mix of a laugh and a groan while his kisses coast on your thighs again.

“You said you wouldn’t teaaaasssseeee-oh my God,” you moan out when his mouth meets your clit without warning, soft, slow sucks and licks.

“You like that, sugar?” he asks, voice dropping down to a bassy gravel.

You nod feverishly, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

“Mmm, don’t stop?” he asks, tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit.

“Please,” you gasp, hand reaching out to run through his hair, bangs pushing back to reveal the soft lines of his forehead.

“Well you’re asking so nice, seems a little mean to keep you waiting,” he coos, fingers replacing his mouth while he talks, “But I thought you liked it when I was a little mean.”

“Don’t be mean, Ed,” you pout.

“Okay, I won’t be mean,” he smiles, opening your legs a little wider. He’s confident about his skills here, Chris loved getting eaten out so he dedicated a lot of time to getting it right. It helped that he loved going down, watching his partner gasp and whine while he serves her on his knees. Feeling the tug on his hair when he’s doing it right, making her feel good. The press of her hand to push him closer to her when she’s getting close, giving it to her over and over again.

“Oh fuck, Ed — oh my god, baby,” you mewl, hips grinding up against his mouth. He smirks into the next stripe of his tongue, latching onto your clit to suck softly while his fingers press against your entrance. His eyes gaze up at you, your own going glassy while you look down at him.

“I like when you look at me like that,” he confesses quietly, mouth returning to its actions immediately. He keeps his eyes on you while his first finger pushes in, he groans at the feeling — snug, warm, wet. He drags out slowly, a high pitched moan escaping you when he pushes back in with little resistance. His head moves with his mouth, tongue laving over your clit, lips pursing over it when he feels your pulse over his finger.

“You’re so good — fuck — you’re so good at this,” you sigh. The praise runs down his chest and along his spine, he moans gratefully into his next kiss against you. He stripes his tongue again, using his other hand to keep your lips spread for more access. Your thighs twitch while he goes back to soft deliberate sucking, alternating between that and gentle fluttering flicks from the tip of his tongue.

“That’s good for you?” he mumbles.

“You’re so good for me,” you whisper back, gripping his hair hard when he pushes his second finger in, “Just…unhm, just like that.”

He keeps a steady pace with his fingers, evidence of his skill coating them while he does. He wants to drag this out a while, take his time with you like he said he would. He breaks his mouth away for a moment to really look at you, just in your bra and skirt. His heart skips a beat, breath caught in his throat. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Too afraid to say it outloud. What if you don’t like that while you have sex? You said you like when he was a little mean, does that mean he should be mean all the time?

“Earth to Ed…” he hears you say, your hand waving in his face. He looks back up at you, startled, “You okay? You stopped and sort of just…stared for a second.”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he laughs to himself, taking his fingers away to massage the inside of your thighs with both hands, “Just got caught up staring at you.”

“Ew,” you giggle with a smile, “You think I’m pretty or somethin’?”

Eddie leans up between your legs on the couch where you come down to meet him, noses inches apart, “Well I don’t wanna be too forward…”

“You’re literally eating me out, you can’t get any more forward,” you both laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Of both being shaky and shy even this far into the game.

“Like I was saying — I don’t wanna be too forward, but I think you’re honestly so beautiful,” he blushes bashfully, looking down so all you can see are his full lashes, “And I didn’t wanna be corny and say it while I’m like, neck deep in your pussy.”

“That’s very sweet, baby.” You run your hand through his hair, pushing back one side when he looks up at you again. Baby. He likes when you call him that. He likes when you call him baby. He’s excited for you to call him other names like pretty boy, and babe, and honey. He wants to hear ‘em all. He wants you to spend the night so he can make you breakfast in the morning — for like…ever. You kiss him and he shudders, cock jumping in his slacks for a hint of attention — but he has a job to finish.

“You’re very sweet,” he says, nuzzling your nose before kissing your cheek, then your jawline, your neck, your chest, down and further down until he’s between your legs again — he doesn’t tease this time. He licks at your entrance, replacing his fingers with his tongue to lap up what you have for him. Your thighs tremble he trails back up, swirling his tongue over your clit when his fingers snugly sink back inside you.

“Eddie…”

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks, voice smokey and deep. He lets his fingers search inside you for your g-spot, grinning when he finds it. Your moan is loud when he massages it, hips pushing down into the couch cushions, head thrown back while you grind against him.

“M’so close,” you huff, “That feels so good, please don’t stop. Don’tstopdon’tstop.”

He grunts, feeling your thighs jump while he keeps up his pace. His tongue gets sloppy with it, wet and filthy, pooling spit out of his mouth in droves to mix with your slick. He fills you with a third finger, legs parting further again while you huff into the stretch.

“Ooh, you can really take it, baby,” he encourages, “Look at you takin’ all these fingers.” He glides the flat of his tongue over you once before leaning back to watch you. The pads of his fingers press in slow circles against your g-spot again, smirking when your eyes roll back.

“M’gonna cum…oh shit — oh fuck Ed I’m g.. — ohfuck — fuckfuckfuck — mmm-ah!” Your hips jump, lifting off the couch, writhing to pull away while you feel your orgasm rush rapidly to its peak.

“Thaaaat’s it,” he smiles, mouth returning home to its place latched over you. He holds your hips down with his free hand, eyes fluttering closed while he continues. A slight flit of his tongue right as he pumps his fingers in puts stars in your eyes, thighs snapping closed on either side of his head — exactly what he wanted.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you chant with strained, shaking vocal chords, tears pricking your eyes. Eddie groans when he feels your walls clench down hard over his fingers, flooding over him down his hand. You hiss while he keeps going, fingers easing out of you but tongue licking up as much as he can while you come down in shivers.

“You okay?” he asks, when your thighs release him. You reach for his hand, still covered in your juices and pull it toward you — but he knows your game. He knows you’re gonna lick it off and give him those eyes — so he pulls his wrist away, “Oh, no baby.”

Eddie delicately puts his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours with a glint of satisfaction, and gently sucks them clean instead.

“I don’t like to waste it, sugar,” he croons, “I can make you something if you’re hungry.”

His sexy act breaks when you roll your eyes at him, clearly flustered by his antics in your post orgasm glow. He snickers when he stands up, leaning down to peck you with your arousal still smeared on his mouth and chin.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pouts back. A peck turns to a kiss, a kiss to something passionate.

“Why don’t I go get cleaned up,” he starts, before catching you in another kiss.

“You should pee since that’s the smart thing to do before and after,” he presses a kiss to your neck.

“And then I’ll take you to bed,” he murmurs huskily, “How’s that?”

“That’s really nice,” you rasp back, turning so that you’re nose to nose, “But I am a little hungry now that you said that.”

“You’re funny,” he smiles, another kiss, “I’ll get us a snack and then I’ll take you to bed, is that better?”

“Much better.”

Eddie passes you your panties and shirt, and points out where the bathroom is down the hall. While you traipse along, he opens the fridge, taking out the tiramisu he got as dessert with his takeout last night but didn’t get around to eating. He slices the generous cut in half, gently placing it on two tea plates and grabbing two forks.

“Do you like tiramisu?” he asks when he hears your socked feet pad into the kitchen.

“I do. My mom’s is the best actually,” you brag. He turns around to see you, your bright smile, your refreshed face.

“Will you still eat it if it’s not your mom’s?” he asks, offering you the plate.

“Yes, of course,” you nod, taking both plates out of his hands and placing them on the table, “But first I gotta –”

Eddie’s taken aback by the kiss, but you don’t notice. He’s swift at the pick up, matching your pace expertly and hoisting you up onto the counter with surprising ease. He grunts when you pull him forward between your legs by the belt loops because he knows you’re trying to fuck just as much as he is.

“Baby…” he starts, regretfully breaking away, “Are you hungry or not?”

You don’t answer at first, you just look at him and kiss him again. When you pull away, your gaze lingers. Fear coasts icily over his chest when you almost look forlorn.

“Shit…” you whisper, shoulders drooping.

“Wh-what? What is it?” he asks, hands getting clammy where they rest on your thighs.

“I…” you take a deep breath, it shakes when you exhale, “I really fucking like you.”

He smiles, but he knows why this is your response, why you look like this, why your shoulders sulk — because he’s also there, “Does that make you scared?”

You nod, but instead of going in to kiss you again he pulls you close, smooching your cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay that you’re scared,” he murmurs, “But if it’s any consolation…”

“I really fucking like you, too.”

When you kiss again, he’s overwhelmed.

“Fuck the tiramisu,” you breathe, “Let’s just —.”

“Mhm,” he breathes back, hoisting you off the counter, balancing you on his hips, “I fucking need you.”

Jingle. Click. Creak.

“HONEY, WE’RE HOME!” calls the voice of a sloshed Steve Harrington, from the front door, “Put your clothes on, sluts.”

But it’s not just Steve, it’s the whole party — the group filing into the living room while you hurriedly slide down Eddie’s form. Tatianna and Gareth follow in after everyone gets their shoes off, laughing and joking with Robin and Dustin while they stumble through the door. They halt when they catch Eddie’s expression from the other room, a stare so cold it could freeze them both. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Gareth mouths, realizing with deep regret what they’ve interrupted. Tatianna makes her way over, making a face of pure guilt when she makes it into the kitchen.

“So here’s the thing, my phone died and Steve was using Gareth’s phone to change the music and I forgot to text you,” she explains to the both of you, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s seriously okay,” you laugh, “Please don’t feel bad. It’s you and Gareth’s apartment, too.”

“Are you mad at me?” Tati pouts at Eddie, who could not stay mad at Tati for even a second.

He puffs a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms, “No, no, I’m not mad at you. It’s okay.”

“Okay,” she smiles, opening her arms for a hug which he obliges without question, “Gare’s sorry too, but unfortunately he’s busy babysitting Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum with Nance.” Eddie looks down at you when he lets go of Tatianna, reaching his hand out to rub your back, “She means Robin and Steve.”

“I figured,” you smile. Tatianna makes her exit and you’re both alone in the kitchen again.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie offers, using the leverage of his hand on your back to pull you in close to him.

“What, why? There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you furrow your brow, forearms leaning up the length of his chest. The opening bass of Dua Lipa’s One Kiss starts to thump from the soundsystem in the living room into the kitchen, along with Steve’s passionate This is my favorite fucking song, holy shit.

“Everything got ruined,” he frowns, “I’m like, kind of embarrassed.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you urge, pulling him a little closer to give him a reassuring kiss, “There’s always next time. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“No?” he asks, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re stayin’ right here?”

“Well, until I have to go to home,” you shrug. The music gets a little louder and Eddie throws his disappointment to the wind. There is always next time. For now, he has you here in his kitchen, lips on yours, hands on your cheeks, the steady thump of the beat of his heart. And of course, Steve drunk crying to Robin in the living room – You’re literally my best fucking friend. You’re my best fucking friend Rob, I love you so much.

Eddie giggles against your mouth at the sound, an ache caught in his chest. He really fucking likes you.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things s4 #eddie munson x y/n

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joesburrows · 1 year

Text

𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗠𝗘 𝗧𝗢 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗦 — 𝗝. 𝗕𝘂𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄 / 𝗦. 𝗛𝘂𝗯𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗱

SUMMARY: You and Joe have been best friends since you were kids and when he decides to set you up with Sam one day, jealousy ensues.

PAIRING: Joe Burrow x Reader, Sam Hubbard x Reader

WARNINGS: Smut (18+, minors DNI), lots of swearing, slight choking, unprotected sex, drunk reader, drunk Joe and Sam

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

A/N: The picture that inspired this entire fic. I had started to get a little sloppy towards the end with my writing because I was trying to wrap it up as quick as I could but I hope you all enjoy!

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For as long as time could allow you to remember, you and Joe were inseparable. The two of you became best friends because your parents were friends with his, so naturally, you were in each other’s lives from the moment you could both walk and talk.

And throughout the years of growing up together, Joe became your rock. There wasn’t anything you two didn’t do together. Went to the same elementary school, middle school, high school, and eventually college. You refused to leave his side, even when he ended up transferring to LSU. That’s how close you were with each other; nothing could separate you two or the magical bond you shared with Joe.

Or so, you thought.

You weren’t ever really interested in Joe because he wasn’t exactly your type. You didn’t even think he was that attractive. Shallow of me, you thought. But it was just the truth. He was always the center of attention and you just… Weren’t. You hated attention, matter of fact. But it was something about him taking his first steps into the NFL that had you questioning the way you felt about him. It was like he’d done a complete three sixty from the last time you’d seen him. Somehow, he looked way prettier and it was obvious that was beginning to take good care of himself. You wondered why you had cared so much now about how attractive he was. Maybe you were just proud of him. Or maybe there were some underlying feelings there. You didn’t know but chose to ignore them and bury them for as long as you could.

However, if Joe wanted to be the franchise quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals, then he needed to keep up his appearance, right? And that’s exactly what he did. In his third season in the NFL, you could see the way his confidence had skyrocketed since his rookie season. It warmed your heart, but it also had you feeling neglected by your best friend and you told him as much. You didn’t even realize why you were craving his attention so bad; it didn’t seem like anything uncouth to be feeling that way. He was your best friend, after all. But Joe was practically a star now, and all you could do was sit back and watch, admiring from afar.

But what was Joe’s solution to you feeling neglected by him?

“You need to get laid or something.”

Appalled and taken aback, you swatted at his arm for even considering you needed to get laid to stop feeling neglected by him.

“What? It’s true. Getting laid makes everyone feel better. Plus, I know someone on the team who’s dying to get some action of their own,” Joe insisted.

You rolled your eyes dramatically and picked at your chipped nail polish. Here we go again, you thought. Joe had spent an ungodly amount of time trying to set you up with players on the team since 2020, but you always refused. Why? You didn’t really have a good enough reason, but you’d lie your way out of it every single time. It just wasn’t something you were interested in.

“For the millionth time, stop trying to set me up with the guys. I’m not interested.”

“Are you a lesbian?” Joe deadpanned as he placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands, staring at you stoically. The fact that he was so damn serious had you nearly bursting into a fit of laughter. “You know, because if you are, that’s really badass. I’d be so happy for you. I’d be the ultimate wingman—“

“What? No, I’m not a lesbian! Jesus, Burrow,” you quickly interjected.

“Then, what’s the real reason you keep turning down everyone I try to set you up with?”

You suddenly froze, not expecting the question. You didn’t want to be honest and tell him the real reason, so you’d have to come up with another lame excuse that you knew he’d just roll his eyes at. You had to protect yourself and your heart.

“Because, Joe. Why can’t you just live with the fact that I’m not interested? Why is that not enough for you?”

As per usual, Joe rolled his eyes, but leaned in closer to where you were sitting across from him. “Because I heard from a little birdie that Sam is single again.”

You had suddenly perked up at the mention of Sam being single. He was everything a girl could want in a man. Big, tall and literally sculpted by Greek gods. Literally everything that Joe wasn’t. You had once taken an interest in him a while back but didn’t know he was in a relationship at the time, so you backed off and left him alone. He was the one player on the team that you wouldn’t have minded being set up with.

And now, you were about to get your wish. But if Joe would’ve known it was about to be the biggest mistake of his life, then he would’ve stopped it from happening before it did.

—

By the end of the regular season, you and Sam had established a friends with benefits situation because you weren’t really interested in a relationship. Everything worked out perfectly because Sam wasn’t interested in one either. It was almost too perfect.

You didn’t like showing affection in front of anyone whenever you were around Sam, but something about the Bengals winning the AFC North Division tonight—and perhaps the onslaught of drinks you downed earlier—were enough to have you all over him. The two of you had found a secluded area in the locker room, away from the hustle and bustle of the boys smoking their cigars and dancing along to the music they had blaring over the speakers. You leaned up on your tippy toes and hooked your arms around Sam’s neck as he leaned against the wall behind him, going in for a sloppy kiss. You felt his strong, calloused hands grip your ass and pull you into him more. You could feel the prominent bulge against your thigh, and you moaned into the kiss to let him know.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good tonight, baby,” Sam said, pulling away from the kiss. “Promise?” You grinned, leaning in for another kiss that left you damn near paralyzed.

On the other hand, Joe knew you and Sam were messing around, but he never saw it because you kept it so well hidden from everyone. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to see the two of you messing around. The whole reason Joe had even tried to set you up with guys on the team was so that he could avoid his feelings for you. It was the ultimate cop out and it was foolproof. There was no way in hell Joe could ever confess his feelings for you. There was too much on the line and he didn’t want to ruin the incredible friendship the two of you shared. That was more important to him than taking the risk.

Joe had just finished taking pictures with some of his teammates and began to head for the showers when he happened to run into you and Sam making out against the wall. He stopped dead in his tracks and could feel a pang of jealousy wash over him. He wanted to look away but couldn’t bring himself to do so at the same time. He wanted to be in Sam’s position so fucking bad, but he was a coward and would continue to be for as long as time would allow.

For some odd reason, you felt like someone was watching you and Sam, so you had to pull away from him and find out for yourself. You looked to your right, but no one was there. Then you looked to the left of you to find your best friend standing there; confirming your earlier thoughts of feeling like you were being watched. You didn’t know what to say or even make of the situation. Words were caught in your throat and all you could do was stare at Joe with an apologetic look on your face.

Nothing was said between either of you. Nothing really needed to be said because the looks in both of your eyes spoke louder than words could. Joe got the hint and began to turn back around and walk away, but you had other plans. “Joe, wait—”

You had started to pull away from Sam, but he noticed what was going on and stopped you from doing anything else. “Hold on, let me go after him.”

“I’m not sure if you going after him is the best thing for this situation right now.”

“I got it, trust me. I’ll be right back.”

You sighed in defeat and watched while Sam followed Joe to wherever he was going. As much as you wanted to fix whatever the hell just happened between you and Joe, Sam may have had the upper hand more than you did. They could talk about things more level-headed than you and Joe probably could.

“Joe, man, if you don’t want me to see her anymore, I can stop. Plain and simple. I can see the way you look at her; she clearly means a lot to you. More than you probably let on,” Sam said once he finally caught up to Joe.

Joe picked up another cigar once he returned to his locker space and searched around for the lighter that he had misplaced until he saw it laying on top of a nearby table. “Honestly, Sam. I don’t really care what you do with her. I was the one that practically set this whole thing up.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean you can’t feel some type of way about it.”

“I don’t feel any type of way about it. Y/N can do whatever the hell she wants.

“So, you mean to tell me you wouldn’t care if I asked her out officially?”

No, I don’t fucking want that. That is the absolute last thing that I want, Joe thought to himself. But being the coward Joe was, he wasn’t going to say it out loud. He and Sam have had a really great friendship for years and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin anything between them, as well. It was such a messy and complicated situation and neither men could really make any sense of it.

“Alright, thanks for giving me the answer I needed.” And with that, Sam left Joe to make his way back to you. But you were nowhere to be found. You had to get out of that locker room because you felt like you were suffocating. Like the whole thing was your fault that things were now incredibly tense and weird between the three of you.

Later on that night, both Joe and Sam had invited you out to a club in Downtown Cincinnati to celebrate winning the division. You wanted to stay at home and sleep for the rest of the day, but you also wanted to get drunk and forget about what happened earlier in the day. And the more you thought on it, the more you felt like it would be a good idea to let loose a little bit.

You wanted to look hot and irresistible tonight, so you decided to slip on a bright red corset, paired with a black mini skirt, black chunky boots to match, and a Swarovski crystal handbag that Joe had gifted you for your birthday a few years back. You knew Sam wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you, but you also feared for Joe’s reaction to your outfit choice. It was like you purposely wanted to see if he would hold back on his feelings after what happened earlier.

—

You were on your fourth or fifth drink of the night… You think? Honestly, you couldn’t tell or even remember, but that didn’t matter when you had Sam’s hands all over you as you swayed along to the heavy thumping of the music. You were sipping on a gin and tonic and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Joe sitting and talking to some of his teammates in the VIP section of the club that the team had rented out for the night. You wanted him to see you so bad; you wanted to see that fire in his eyes, the jealousy that you saw take over when he caught you and Sam together in the locker room. And for a second, you swore you did when you finally locked eyes with him. Your breath got caught in your throat and you could feel the heat pooling between your legs as he looked at you like he owned you, possessed you. It was a look he’d never given you before and you couldn’t deny wanting to see it again the more he stared at you. You could even see him visibly gripping onto the glass in his hand like he was pissed at you for doing what you were doing. Instead of walking over to him, though, you downed the last bit of alcohol left in your glass and set it down somewhere before turning around in Sam’s arms. Standing on your tippy toes, you whispered in his ear, “Any place we can find some privacy here? I feel like I’m being watched.”

You couldn’t hide the smirk on your face after you had spoken the last several words, knowing well enough that if Joe had heard you, even over the loud ass music, it would’ve set him off.

Sam’s grin matched your own he took your hand, leading you through the sea of people around you, but you also made sure to never tear your gaze away from Joe’s as you followed Sam to wherever he was taking you. But as you were being pulled in one direction, you could see Joe stand up and began to make his way over to you, nearly causing you to collide against Sam from behind because you weren’t paying attention to where you were going. “Ow, sorry,” you muttered as you rubbed your forehead where you had run right into nothing but tense muscle.

“I’m gonna go see what Joe wants if you’re cool with it?”

“Of course. I’ll meet you in that private VIP room. Just don’t keep me waiting too long.”

Right before Sam left, he playfully smacked your ass and threw a wink at you before disappearing into the darkness. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you giggled and winked back at him.

“What do you want—” You started, but Joe cut you off when he finally came up to you, saying nothing and instead grabbing you by the hips, directing you to the nearest wall in the club until your back collided harshly with the surface. You let out a gasp from the suddenness and the pool between your thighs had started to make itself more prominent than before. You had never seen Joe act this way around you, more or less fucking manhandle you. Best friends weren’t supposed to act this way around each other. It was forbidden. But it felt like he was crossing the godforsaken line so many people refused to cross. And you couldn’t deny wanting him anymore.

“Stop looking at me like that, Y/N,” Joe leaned in and whispered into your ear breathlessly.

“Looking at you like what, Burrow? I’m not even doing anything,” you challenged.

“Looking at me like you want me to fuck you while you’re all over Sam.”

Oh, fucking hell. What was the point in holding back now? The two of you stared at each other for an entire minute, your breathing labored due to your arousal. You couldn’t stand it anymore. You literally threw yourself at Joe, crashing your lips against his for the first time ever. He quickly responded and threw every ounce of his being into the kiss; unable to keep his hands off of you now that he had you right where he wanted you after all these years. Finally.

When you pulled away from each other, no words needed to be spoken. You knew you needed each other and you needed it now. You took Joe’s hand and led him in the direction of the private VIP room where you knew Sam was waiting for you. And no, you hadn’t forgotten about him or kept him waiting, but you had an idea in mind that you’d been dreaming about from the moment Joe caught you making out with him earlier in the day. You were hell bent on having your cake and eating it, too.

You pushed your way through the door of the private VIP room, only to find Sam right where he said he would be, sitting on the plush sofa and looking through his phone. Though the door opening caught his attention and he quickly put his phone away but was confused to see you walking through the door with Joe inches behind you. Sam had begun to speak, but you raised an index finger to get him to stop before he could.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” you began, licking over your lips, “You’re both going to fuck me and by the end of the night, I don’t want to have the ability to walk. Got it?” The confidence in your voice came from all the times you spent being the boss of your own company and it had certainly paid off in more ways than one in this moment.

“Y/N, what the hell—” Joe said, but you cut him off.

“Shut up and go sit down next to Sam.”

Perplexed, Joe stared at you for what felt like centuries before he eventually decided to listen to your command and sat down right beside Sam like you told him to. But truthfully, you didn’t even know where to start. There was so much man to go around and it didn’t help that Joe and Sam were built very differently. They were both tall and around the same height. But Joe was leaner, while Sam was beefier. And you couldn’t stop your mouth from watering at the sight in front of you. You were hungry; you were the predator and they were your prey.

You had eventually decided on making your first move on Joe. You knew what sex with Sam was like because you’d been fucking around since the beginning of the season, so you wanted to start with something new. You could see Joe shift uncomfortably in place when you made your way to him, climbing onto him and straddling him with ease. Like it was something you had done before. You cupped his face in your hands and your lips met his for a fiery kiss that left you feeling over the moon. You never knew kissing Joe was something you needed, something you craved, until now. And Joe didn’t hold back either. He kissed you with the same amount of passion and it was clearly pent up from keeping his feelings hidden since the two of you could practically talk as kids. And you had gotten so lost in the kiss that you nearly forgot Sam was sitting right next to you, uncomfortably having to watch what you were doing with Joe.

Instead of ignoring Sam while you paid attention to Joe, you reached over and deftly unbuttoned his pants, wasting no time at all in slipping your hand past his boxers so you could firmly grip his cock. You could hear a faint groan coming from beside you and that caused Joe to pull away to inspect what was going on. He saw the way your hand worked its way up and down Sam’s shaft and even with bloodshot eyes, you could still see the intensity in his orbs. He didn’t want you anywhere near anyone else besides him now that he finally has you where he wants you. However, he knew that if he said anything, that it would start a fight and that was the last thing he wanted right now. He’d let you have your way for the night with both him and Sam, but it was the first and last time it was going to happen.

You saw the way Joe reacted to you paying attention to Sam while you were giving him attention, so it sparked an idea in your head. An idea that would likely have him begging for you, which is something you never thought you could see yourself wanting. But now that you practically had him in the palm of your hand, you wanted it more than anything in the world.

You climbed off of Joe and subtlety made your way to your knees in-between Sam’s thick thighs, your fingers making quick work of pulling his pants and boxers down and off in a matter of seconds. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock that was ready and hard for you and you couldn’t resist leaning forward to close your mouth around the tip, earning a groan from the beautiful man sitting on the couch above you. You didn’t have to even look up to know that Joe was uncomfortable in more ways than one. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him shift a few times and when you finally looked up, he was looking away from you. Pulling your mouth away from Sam, you huffed in annoyance and snapped your fingers to get his attention. “Eyes on me, Joey. Watch me while I suck your friend’s dick. Look at everything you could’ve had if you would’ve just told me you had feelings for me.”

“Y/N,” Joe growled, his voice strained.

“Shut up and fucking watch me,” you demanded. Without saying another word, you leaned back in and your tongue scooped up the pre-cum on the tip of Sam’s cock and you moaned in satisfaction once it slid down your throat. Finally, you could see Joe watching you with an uncomfortable stare as you took Sam’s length all the way back into your throat. Normally, you’d be looking up to Sam to gauge his reaction, but all you could do was lock eyes with Joe as you bobbed your head. Up and down, back and forth. Joe was squirming under your stare and you noticed the way his jeans grew tighter with every bob of your head.

Meanwhile, Sam really could’ve cared less that Joe was being ordered around to watch while you gave him a blowjob. In fact, he had his hands in your hair, his head was tilted back and he was letting out moan after pretty moan. And it was music to your fucking ears.

“Y/N, please,” Joe begged. You grinned around Sam’s cock and pulled your mouth off of him once you finally got what you wanted out of Joe. The fact that it didn’t even take long to have him begging for you is what drove you wild. With the back of your hand, you wiped the spit off the corner of your mouth and you braced yourself on Sam’s knees to help in getting up off the floor. “Did it turn you on watching me suck off your friend?”

All you got in response from Joe was a roll of his eyes, but you glared at him and he was once again squirming. “Yes. Fuck, Y/N. Yes, it turned me on.”

Smirking at Joe’s admission, you ignored him and decided to climb up onto Sam and straddle his waist like you’d done to Joe earlier. You bunched up your skirt around your waist and slipped your panties down your long legs, blindly tossing them somewhere over to Joe. You could hear the way Joe sucked in a breath as his fingers touched the material delicately; like he was afraid that having your panties in his hands was some fever dream. Joe rolled them up into a ball and stuffed them inside one of his pockets. He wasn’t giving those back to you. Not a chance in hell when you were making him suffer right now.

You rolled your eyes at the action and took Sam’s hard cock in your hand, giving it a few strokes before you lifted yourself just enough to allow the tip to penetrate your entrance. You let out a satisfied sigh and eventually slid all the way down until he was completely nestled inside of you. “Fuck,” you both groaned in unison upon the contact.

You quickly found a rhythm that you liked, bouncing up and down on Sam’s cock like it was the only thing you knew how to do. You always loved the way you could feel so full of him and yet, not full enough of him at the same time. You always wanted more, craved more. Sam was a goddamn man in every sense of the word and he had you damn near paralyzed with every stroke of his cock inside of you. You became so engrossed in the way you rode Sam’s cock and the way he felt that you completely forgot about Joe sitting there right beside the two of you, watching you fuck Sam.

“Stroke your cock while you watch me ride Sam’s cock,” you ordered him around again, “And I want the two of you to kiss while you do it.” It was a lot to ask of both of them, but you honestly just wanted to see if they would actually do it. Sam was a little more willing to do things out of his comfort zone, meanwhile Joe typically kept to himself and didn’t like taking risks. You could see the way Joe froze when you insisted on them kissing. Like it was something that was forbidden. He clenched his jaw as he watched your every move on top of Sam; and the more he watched, the more pissed off he became. He wanted his way with you more than anything in the world and he knew that if he wanted to fuck you eventually, he had to abide by your demands.

Sam turned to Joe, licking his lips. “Come on, man. Just let her have her fun. It’ll be forgotten about tomorrow.” And that’s exactly what he did. In one quick motion, Joe’s boxers and jeans were around his ankles and he took his cock in one of his hands right at the same time he felt a strong, muscular hand wrap around his neck, drawing him in close enough so their lips could connect. You let out some kind of animalistic sound at the sight of two of the hottest men you had the pleasure of knowing kissing right in front of you. It egged you on, encouraged you to want to work yourself on Sam’s cock even better than you had already been doing. “Holy shit,” you moaned and threw your head back in pure ecstasy.

Meanwhile, Joe was working his hand along his cock at a generous pace as Sam’s mouth possessively claimed his own, pre-cum leaking out of the tip and eventually dripping down onto his hand. But it didn’t bother Joe. He was drunk and wouldn’t even remember this in the morning. All he cared about was finally being with you. Even if it wasn’t in the way that he had wanted or pictured it.

“That’s so fucking hot. God, I want you inside of me so bad, Joey,” you breathed, working yourself to an eventual climax after the way you had continuously bounced on Sam’s cock. It took over your entire body and like always, you were trembling with pleasure. But you didn’t want it to end there. Oh, no, you had plenty more in store for the two men that sat in front of you.

After your high subsided, you climbed off of Sam and stood in front of both of them as if nothing had just happened which prompted the two men to break away from each other; wondering what you had up your sleeve next. “Joe, I’m going to get on all fours on the couch and I want you to fuck me from behind. Sam, I want your dick in my mouth while he fucks me. Sounds easy enough, right?”

Out of nowhere, Joe had built up some newfound confidence and he pushed himself up from the couch, making his way to you where he stood behind you, pulled your arms behind your back and roughly guided you to the couch. He bent you over the arm rest and rested his hands on your ass, gripping and squeezing as he pleased. He groaned at the way you felt underneath his longer fingers, desperate to feel more of you, to feel your tight walls clenching around him as he fucked you. The suddenness of his actions and the way he was manhandling you had you a complete and utter mess for him. It was funny how you could slip out of the dominant role so easily and hand it over to him when you had never been in the position with him before. But you liked it, loved it even. And you wanted to experience more of it. Especially when you were sober.

Without you expecting it, Joe withdrew his hand and he swiped it through the air; his palm coming down onto your bare ass and leaving behind a red indentation in the form of his handprint. You moaned, nearly on the edge and wanting to cum again from the unexpected action. You had no idea was so possessive in bed.

“Fuck, Joe. Please, I need you inside of me.”

“Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

You groaned, loudly, and pushed your ass back up against him in hopes it would bring some sort of relief to the warmth between your thighs. It was no use, though, because Joe noticed and spanked you again for even trying. “I need you inside of me, Joe. Fuck… Please give it to me.” Whimpering, you looked up at Sam with a look in your eyes that begged for his cock in your mouth. Sam took the hint and got up from the couch, instead deciding to kneel on the surface of the couch and wasting no time in directing his cock right back into your mouth. “Baby, fuck…” Sam groaned and leaned his head back, enjoying the way your mouth felt around him.

A sense of jealousy came over Joe again and he couldn’t wait anymore to be inside of you. He needed it just as bad as you did. Without giving you any warning, Joe plunged himself deep inside of you and you moaned around Sam’s cock from the feeling of finally being full of him. After years of pent up sexual tension and frustration that you didn’t even realize was there, his cock was finally claiming you. Finally. And it was just as you imagined it would be; perfect in every sense of the word.

You tried to focus on sucking Sam off as best as you could but it was becoming difficult to do anything else except allow yourself to fully immerse into the way Joe was fucking you. Sam noticed your lack of movement and began to fuck your mouth, driving in and out of you in a way you thought wasn’t humanely possible. And at the same time, Joe was fucking you dizzy; you didn’t know left from right, where you were at, how late it was. All you knew was that you wanted Joe to make you cum over and over again until you physically couldn’t anymore.

You couldn’t handle all of it. Sam’s dick in your mouth—practically choking you and Joe—fucking you like he was never going to be able to do so again. Considering you two crossed the line, you weren’t sure how things were going to be afterwards. If the sex would strengthen your bond or if you two just simultaneously ruined everything.

You lifted a weak hand up to Sam, desperately tapping his thigh to let him know that you needed air and to warn Joe of your impending climax. Sam nodded in your direction and he quickly pulled his cock out of your mouth, but that wasn’t about to stop you from coaxing him into his own climax. You wrapped your delicate hand around his length, pumping him profusely while you barely found it in you to finally warn Joe. “Fuck, Joey! I’m gonna cum. Please give it to me.”

Right on cue, your second climax of the night hit you like a freight train and you could sense Joe following right in your footsteps. “Fuck, Y/N. You feel so good,” he said as he unraveled, releasing every bit of his seed in you that he could. Moments later, Sam was also following, leaning forward to let go in your mouth. He had almost let go all over your face, but you were lucky to scoot forward a little bit before it could happen.

Joe pulled out of you slowly and when he did, you were so fucked out that you fell face first into the couch and you let out a groan from your now uncomfortable position. You didn’t want to move or get up. You could stay right there for all you cared. “Y/N, are you okay?” Sam asked, purely concerned as he reached for his clothes to dress himself again.

“I’m fine. Just leave me here to die,” you mumbled against the fabric of the couch.

Joe and Sam looked at each other silently for a brief second, then laughed in unison and you swore in that moment, you’d never felt more accomplished in your life for managing to snag some of the hottest men on the Cincinnati Bengals in one night and at the same time.

#joe burrow #sam hubbard #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #nfl fanfic #nfl fanfiction #joe burrow fic #nfl smut #nfl fan fic #nfl #nfl imagine #football #joe burrow fan fiction #joe burrow fan fic #sam hubbard fanfiction #sam hubbard fanfic

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squipedmew · 1 year

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well, since the Dream SMP has officially come to a close, I thought I’d share what I’ve been up to for the past 2 years - making character designs for every single one of the characters!

I really wanted every character to look distinct, with really distinct color pallets, unique weapons for each and every character - basically like each one of them could be the protagonist of a wildly different story from one another. Feel free to steal them (with credit) if you want!

I kinda dropped off working on it in late 2022, so I think I missed a few characters, as well as going back and re-doing some of the oldest ones (that’s why some of them are more detailed - those are the 2023 versions)

As strange as it is for me to say this, DSMP had such a big impact on me, especially over COVID. I haven’t had a piece of media fill me with such a passion to create art and improve probably since Undertale all the way back in 2015, if you can believe it. I owe a lot of my art improvement to this silly little Minecraft series, and though I may have lost touch with it near the end, it will always hold a special place in my heart.

o7 you crazy, wacky, depressing, stupid, unsatisfying, joyful, hilarious, and amazing series. I wish everyone involved in it the best!

(A few extra designs under the cut!)

This is a 2020 Pogtopia Wilbur I made, and if I were to draw it now, I probably wouldn’t change a thing. This design fucking slaps imo, I’m still super proud of it.

Exile Era Tommy. Wilbur’s old Pogtopia coat has been passed around so many times between so many different interpretations of characters, so I thought it made more sense for Tommy to take the L’Manberg era coat from Wilbur, since that was the version of him he idolized (This is an old version of Wilbur’s coat btw)

Post Dream-Getting-Sent-To-Prison Tommy! I wanted to emphasize how Tommy was trying to move past his trauma, so he shaved off the grey streak he got from the Withers in the L’Manberg explosions (I gave him the grey streaks before Revival canonized it - don’t ask me why)

Las Nevadas Quackity. It’s basically a 1 to 1 for his skin, save for the really ugly blue patches and hoodie I gave him. If I were to do it again, I would def change that.

Snowchester Tubbo. Also still holds up, though I’m not 100% on the pants. This was kinda before goat Tubbo got super canonized, so I just decided to have the eyes. The scars are from the execution.

Revivbur. He looks pretty good for a dead bitch - though I messed up the L’Manberg flag colors on the bandanna on his ankle. Guess he’s french now.

Team Rocket era Niki! She took custody of Wilbur’s Pogtopia coat, albiet cutting off the parts that were covered in blood and soot (which was most of it) I also made her a fire-born like Sapnap, though you can’t see from his design - her hair is on fire when she feels strong emotions, and she’s basically going through it 24/7 during this part.

Syndicate Niki! She’s calmed down and is no longer on fire, but her hair is still pink from all those weeks of constant rage and sadness. Also dressed more appropriately for the snow.

Dream Post Prison. Mask no longer has invisibility enchantments, so he doesn’t bother hiding his face. Gotta wonder how it’s staying on though. Get this man some moisturizer.

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conflictofthemind · 22 days

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Not saying this means anything especially since TBSOAS (the book) only came out in 2020, more of a “hey this is weird” post but:

I’ve always thought these two looked / were similar as two wavy blond haired blue eyed men, and it definitely helps that they both premiered (in the case of film Corio) within one year of each other . But there’s like, more than that? And some of it is very strange?

First off, they are two characters who since the start of their chronological stories teeter between ‘good’ and ‘evil’ with a lot of forces in their life, including their evil scientist mentor, pushing them towards the dark side by use of manipulation tactics. Henry is much more of a direct victim to this than Corio is though, and the latter also does have more good influences in his life.

“Fueled with the terror of becoming Prey, see how quickly we become Predator?” - Dr. Gaul

“I could restore balance to a broken world… a predator, but for good” - Henry Creel / 001

Also, can I mention how both TBOSAS and TFS are set in the same exact time period? The Hunger Games uses retro futurism since the entire story is set centuries from now, but the era is clearly inspired by the late 50s to early 60s, especially given that it takes place 60 years before the main series.

Now here’s the actual weird part that had me making this post.

Both of their origin stories center on a romance with a female co-lead that ends with them killing her (heavy question mark). That’s not the weird part. It’s the way that the plots of both of these origin stories and said female characters are based off of old European folk-songs that were popular in Appalachia. TFS is based off of ‘The Tale of Barbara Allen’ and TBOSAS is based off of ‘The Ballad of Lucy Gray’ - Stranger Things just bothered to change her name to Patty Newby. Barbara Allen (Patty) appears as a covey sister of Lucy Gray in TBSOAS. Naturally, both of these characters are singers which plays a role in their respective stories.

I just have to say, it’s a very obscure source of inspiration to happen twice like this. There is a little part of me that thinks Kate Trefry and the writing crew on TFS might have been fans of The Hunger Games. But who knows.

Suzanne Collins wrote the TBOSAS prequel to answer the question of ‘nature vs nurture’ and how much choice villains have in becoming their future selves - which is the exact same question that is actively being posed by Stranger Things in regards to Henry.

And then how I got started on this line of thinking again today - the older adult versions of these characters both kidnap the respective sweet boy love interests and hijack them against the main characters. For strategic reasons and, in the case of Peeta, emotionally torturing the main character so she gives up. Will and Peeta are just both so similar as characters; soft and sensitive, traumatized, painters, both the poor underdogs with (seemingly) unrequited love for the protagonist though Mike isn’t really the protagonist.

I’m not sure if there’s actual inspiration being taken here. I typically assume not on the basis that I’m someone who can find connections between any pieces of media I enjoy. But the whole Appalachian folktale angle of it all is strange to me.

While I don’t think Henry was conceived with this in mind, it’s possible the inspiration sprang up during the further fleshing out of his backstory and into writing The First Shadow. Maybe it will even have an impact on the final season.

One of the things I liked about TBOSAS was the theme of the past coming back to haunt Snow in the future through Katniss and the music Lucy Gray created living on through her. If this was in any way inspiration, I’d love to see Vecna haunted by how similar Will is to him and especially the ways that he is different and able to do better.

#stranger things #henry creel #vecna/henry/001 #will byers #not going to put this shenanigans in the hg tag but uhh go everlark and byler parallels

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allthemidnightmemories · 3 months

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I have so many thoughts and feelings about Josh/Annaleigh leaving Sweeney today, so I’m going to do my best to get them all down without becoming a ball of emotions (which is too late bc I watched their closing speeches 😭)

I’ve been a big fan of Josh since late 2020—though I was always aware of who he was, the pandemic was a chaotic time where his music really spoke to me and helped me through a lot of wild times, and I’ve been such a fan of the passion and care he puts into his artistry.

fast forward to late 2022 and he announces he’ll be starring in Sweeney, and I KNEW I would do whatever it took to get there. after a couple of failed attempts trying to plan the trip with others, my mom finally agreed to go with me.

I couldn’t have known then that March 2023, right before we were set to go, was going to be one of the worst months in my life for a long while. between late night bad news phone calls, family emergencies, hospital visits, and funerals, it was a season filled with anxiety and dread about what would go wrong next. it sounds silly now, but it was almost as if I was scared to even go on the trip because it was just one more thing that would go wrong, one more plan that would fall through where I’d have to chin up and tell myself it didn’t really matter to me, even though it did.

and then, none of my worst fears happened. and for a brief 3 hours seeing Sweeney Todd on stage, everything was pure magic.

it’s silly that a musical about vengeance and murder and bloodshed would be the thing to bring light into my life during such a rough period, but it did. I remember the house lights coming up at intermission after Priest and turning to my mom and saying “I’m so happy right now.”

You could tell the absolute passion these two put into these iconic roles, the way they poured everything into making what could be single-note villains into characters that, at their core, are desperately, relatably human, which is where the real tragedy and horror of Sweeney lies. Josh made Sweeney broken, human, full of tension and the push and pull of good and evil, while Annaleigh created a wacky, zany version of a Lovett who truly just wanted to be loved by the one she loved, and would do anything to get that love.

aside from the show experience itself, this revival reignited this blog and connected me with so many people who have united around this incredible show. from the silly memes to the heartbreaking analysis, it’s been SO much fun to dive deeper into this show with everyone, and I can’t wait to keep doing that.

anyways. I know this isn’t the end of the show and that we’ll hopefully have many exciting future iterations of Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett in this current revival. But today marks the end of an era I’m eternally grateful for, and it all began with these two incredible performers who made such an impact on me during such a chaotic time in my life.

happy trails, Josh and Annaleigh 🔪🥧💈

#sweeney todd revival #sweeney todd #josh groban #annaleigh ashford #I’m doing a lot of crying over media this weekend lol

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theweeklydiscourse · 6 months

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i'd be fascinated in seeing you write discourse on throne of glass, it really has a lot to unpack... i love your acotar commentary!

Now that’s an interesting idea! I got halfway through the first book in 2020 before I got distracted by another series, but I picked it up again in 2021 and read all the way to the end in rapid succession. I’d heard about Sarah J Maas’s writing before and I was exposed to some divided opinions on the qualities of her writing. Some hated it, but most people loved it and I decided to read the series so I could draw my own conclusions about the state of her books.

Long story short, I did not like her writing. But, there are certain aspects of TOG that make me prefer it to ACOTAR.

But, I read the series all the way through so I could make an informed assessment and critique of her writing without getting things wrong. Like you said, there is a lot to unpack and if I decide to reread the series at some point I’ll definitely write about it. Off the top of my head I have about three things in the TOG series (in no particular order) that have captured my attention.

1) The books in the Throne of Glass series should not be nearly as long as they are

One of my professors always told us to make every word count in our essays to create concise writing and I wish Maas had an editor who would tell her the same thing. Many of the books in TOG are bloated and could be improved if Maas would just cut down on some of the material in her books. There’s a lot of unnecessary fluff that pads out nearly all of her novels and it makes the pacing of the story very poor and uneven. This is particularly noticeable in her habit of creating a vast wasteland of nothing for chapters and chapters before finally reaching the REAL action (at which point the book ends and the reader questions their life choices)

2) The racism in TOG is impossible to overlook

I can’t even discuss Nehemia’s death without raging. Describing the way she died feels so surreal, it’s like Maas shoved her hand into a glass jar of racist tropes and pulled out a handful of them. Another detail I distinctly remember from reading Heir of Fire was when I was reading Sorsha’s description for the first time and noticed that she had “tan” skin and looked like she was of Eyllwe descent and I thought: she’s going to die, isn’t she? AND LO AND BEHOLD, yet another WOC killed in the most brutal way imaginable to advance the character arcs and angst of white characters. I got downvoted to hell on the Throne of Glass subreddit for pointing it out, but it must be said.

3) I was disappointed by Manorian.

This particular grievance is something I’ll elaborate more on in the future because to me, it represents a larger problem in Maas’s writing that should be addressed more often. I intend to write about his more in the future.

Also thank you so much for the compliment! I’m so glad that you liked my commentary on ACOTAR :)

#throne of glass #heir of fire #Queen of midnight #dorian havilliard #manon blackbeak #manorian #nehemiah #sjm critical

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oonajaeadira · 11 months

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For the Love of Fic: May 30

It’s been a slow reading time...a slow everything time. But it’s okay. That means there’s always a good fic waiting to curl up with when you’re ready.

Here’s what I’ve been loving lately!

🪐 = Year of Themed Creations work!

JOEL MILLER

In the Light They Both Look the Same by @insomniamamma I love seeing J take on new characters because she always sees them through a lens of truth. Never paints them too soft or too hard, ever better or smarter or stronger than they already are, sees their potential and works with what they are. Such is the case with Joel and this sex worker reader character. He pays her for her services honestly, but pays her for her compassion a little less honestly and a lot more satisfyingly. And I love him for it.

The Safest Way Into Tomorrow by @writeforfandoms Short and sharp and hard hitting. A good explanation for why Joel doesn’t sleep much. Or well. Or avoids it purposefully. And the reasoning is so very very Joel. Love a good internal character dissection...

Surrender Chapter Five and Chapter Six by @ezrasbirdie These two idiots are finally admitting to themselves that they can allow themselves to be loved and taken care of and thank gods because they both just need something sweet in their lives. Looks like they’re both gonna allow themselves to take it.

TIM ROCKFORD

Rockford & Roan Pt. 2 by @littlemisspascal This chapter is a lovely bath of environment and character building, letting us sink cozily into our new home with an interesting new roommate to observe. If this was a chapter in a book, I would not be able to keep from reading “just one more” before I headed to sleep...and I bet it would become a chorus and I’d be up all night just wanting to know more...

DIN DJARIN

The Man in the Shiny Mask by @all-the-things-2020 This Mandalorian and Futurama crossover (in shoot script form) is so fkn funny and I can totally see and hear this whole “episode.” Grogu fits so well with the Futurama universe and there’s a storyline going with him and the Hypnotoad and the consequences of their meeting that had me giggling. I really really applaud this crossover. Sophie knows the Futurama characters and voices and timing so well and really makes the pairing work!!!

JAVI GUTIERREZ

Darklight by @psychedelic-ink Not so sure I breathed through this drabble of Javi being your boss in a bookshop and coming to the rescue when a box is too unwieldily. It’s not so much what happens here as the possibility burning in the air between the two... Did I breathe? Unknown.

First Meeting by @hopeamarsu 🪐 I could think of a lot of worse ways for a meet cute, and not a lot of better ones than forced proximity when all the other seats in a movie house are taken. Brushing of thighs, stammered apologies, being given the power of an acceptance? Yes please. Talk about a meet CUTE.

PERO TOVAR

Flowers by @toomanystoriessolittletime Am I a sucker for a shop AU? Yes. The thought of rough and tumble Pero caring for plants? Yes. Being a flower shop owner AND a neighbor AAAAND a grower of sunflowers? SIGN MY SOFT ASS UP.

DIETER BRAVO

C is for CNC by @butchmandalorian 🪐 That’s it. I’m calling Tori for all my kink needs. Not a really kinky girl m’self, but the absolute trust their reader characters share with the boys is totally my jam. In this one, you NEED to read the warnings, because consentual non-consent is not for everyone. But the thought of negotiating a night out with Dieter that he will never forget but you will? And him taking care of you through it? Dang. DANG I SAY. I do have a kink. And my kink is trust. And this is IT.

EZRA

Budding Moon by @grogusmum 🪐 I think there is a prerequisite that selkie stories must get a large part of their beauty from a foundation of longing and bittersweetness, and Hazel’s Seven Tears AU is often no different. In this one, selkie!Ezra is asked about his first love, which is sweet and sad...but also hints at the fear that his current love could end the same way. After all, when you come from the sea, you must one day return to it...

SPECIAL GUEST CORNER

KILI (THE HOBBIT)

The Best Gift by @ironmandeficiency 🪐 While reader’s husband (Kili) is away, he writes to say he can’t be home for her birthday. But then, there is a rather large box waiting for her on the day. Also, I want a messenger raven please.

#for the love of fic #tlou fanfic #joel miller #merge manor fanfic #tim rockford #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #futurama fanfic #tuwomt fanfic #javi gutierrez #the great wall fanfic #pero tovar #the bubble fanfic #dieter bravo #prospect fanfic #ezra #the hobbit fanfic #kili

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rip-us-xoxo · 1 year

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Tightrope- George Weasley x Reader (REPOST)

Posted OCTOBER 20, 2020

Reposted APRIL 16, 2023

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Warnings- it gets pretty angsty, but it ends up good :)

Song- 'Tightrope' from The Greatest Showman

Italicized= Flashbacks Italicized, bold= Song Lyrics

Enjoy!😁😁😁

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You looked up at the clock, it was 7:30 pm. “George promised to be here 30 minutes ago,” you sighed sadly. He’s been doing this for the past few months. He promises that he’ll be home and then doesn’t come home until much much later. He and Fred have been really busy with the shop lately, and you understand that it’s their dream, but sometimes you want to see the love of your life, you know?

You sat up and looked at the dinner you had prepared for you two, and you looked down at your dress that you decided to wear for him. You groaned and sat down at the table, eating your meal by yourself.

“I’ll be home by seven love!” you mimicked Georges’s voice, “Bullshit, it’s all bullshit!”. You stabbed your fork down and kept eating.

After you finished, you sat your dishes down in the sink and turned on some music. “I might as well dance, even though I have no one to dance with. But, I’m used to it at this point,” you whispered to yourself.

“Tightrope” from The Greatest Showman started playing. “This explains my life right now,” you chuckled sadly then started singing, “Some people long for a life that is simple and planned. Tied with a ribbon. Some people won’t sail the sea ‘cause they’re safer on land. To follow what’s written. But I’d follow you to the great unknown. Off to a world we call our own,”.

You thought back to when you and George were talking about your future during dinner one day at Hogwarts. When you mentioned getting a job at the ministry he said that that was boring and no fun.

“What do you mean that’s "boring and no fun”?“ you asked. "I want a job where I can have fun, sure, it might not pay well. But it’s a lot better than getting an office job where you’re bored out of your mind. And besides, it’s fun to have a little risk!” George exclaimed, “What’s the fun in having a life that’s planned? It’s so much more fun to not know what’ll happen tomorrow! It’s fun when there’s some unknown to your life, it makes it exciting!”. “Well, I guess wherever you end up, I’ll end up,” you sighed dreamily and leaned toward him. “We’ll make the world our own,” he whispered and kissed you.

Your heart fluttered at the memory.

“Hand in my hand. And we promised to never let go. We’re walking a tightrope. High in the sky. We can see the whole world down below. We’re walking a tightrope. Never sure, never know how far we could fall. But it’s all an adventure, that comes with a breathtaking view. Walking a tightrope. With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh. With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh. With you,” you sang.

You tried to be optimistic about all of the time George has to spend at the shop because you know that one day it’ll all be worth it. But, it really doesn’t seem like it because it’s been months of this and it doesn’t seem to be getting better. At some point, the shop could completely crash and you two would be screwed. But on the other hand, it could work out amazingly and you two could be set for the rest of your life. You never know, you guess.

“Mountains and valleys, and all that will come in between. Desert and ocean. You pulled me in and together we’re lost in a dream. Always in motion. So I risk it all just to be with you. And I risk it all for this life we choose,” you sang and remembered to when Fred and George were trying to convince you to leave school with them. Mainly because George couldn’t imagine not being with you for the rest of the year.

“Come on, Y/n! Umbridge is the worst and we could get out of this hell-hole, away from her and her horrible ways,” Fred tried convincing you at dinner. “Please, Y/n, we’ll live out our dream of making the world our own! No more school, just you and I,” George said and grabbed your hands, “Along with me!” Fred butted in which made the three of you laugh. George gave you pleading eyes, “How can I say no to you? Fine! I’ll do it,” you agreed which made George ecstatic.

A few weeks later, you left with the boys making their grand exit and you flipping off Umbridge before flying away with George. And with that, you didn’t finish school. Meaning, that you couldn’t get a good job. You were dependent on your job at a small bookshop and the joke shop.

“Hand in my hand. And you promised to never let go. We’re walking a tightrope. High in the sky, we can see the whole world down below. We’re walking a tightrope.Never sure, will you catch me if I should fall?”.

At this point, you felt alone. Even though George came home every night, you were asleep and when you awoke, he was gone.

“I promise that no matter what happens with this shop, I’ll always be there for you,” George said as you two were walking down Diagon Alley. “Promise?” you asked, “Promise,” George reassured. As you started walking away, you felt that George wasn’t walking with you. You turned around to see him on one knee, “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n, you make me the happiest chap alive. I know that that’s cliché, but it’s true. You’ve supported me in my dreams and I promise to do the same, for the rest of our lives. Which I guess brings me to the big question. Will you marry me?”. You stood there with tears in your eyes before jumping up and down and screaming, “Yes! Yes! A million, bajillion times yes!”. He slipped the ring on your finger before you both shared a passionate kiss.

You looked down at the engagement ring on your finger, “Well, it’s all an adventure. That comes with a breathtaking view. Walking a tightrope. With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,”. You then thought back to the Yule Ball.

“With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh. With you,” you sang while spinning around acting like you were dancing with George.

He had asked you to go with him the moment you heard of it happening. You wore a gorgeous gown and you looked perfect, just like how your night went. You and George danced the night away and nothing else mattered except the two of you being together.

The music in your kitchen had engulfed you and you felt like you were in the great hall dancing the night away, just like that night. “With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,”. The music then stopped, bringing you back to your current reality. Your dress immediately stopped flowing and you looked out of the kitchen window. You were at home, with no George insight.

“With you, ooh-ooh-ooh. With you,” you sang while walking toward the counter so that you could lean on it since you were now tearing up at your current situation. “Oh Georgie, what happened to us?” you whispered to yourself and leaned over, sobbing, “We used to be madly in love, and now we’re not. I just want it to go back to the way it used to be,”.

You turned around and wiped a few tears before seeing George standing right on the opposite end of the kitchen. “Oh, hi love!” you exclaimed and wiped away your tears. He didn’t say anything back, he was just standing there sadly.

“How much did you hear?” you croaked out, starting to cry again. “I heard that we’re not as in love as we used to be and that you want things to go back to the way they were,” George said quietly.

You couldn’t keep it in anymore. You let out a sob and walked over to George, falling in his arms. “I just- I just, I miss you all the time. You’re never home and- and I feel like we’re falling out of love for each other,” you sobbed, “I mean, this is the first time we’ve touched in weeks,”. “Don’t say that love,” George cooed.

“But it’s true,” you sobbed, “we’ve been engaged for a year now and we haven’t even been able to plan the wedding because you’re always at work. I feel like you don’t care about me or this relationship anymore,”.

George didn’t say anything, he just looked down. “Do you not care about me anymore?” you said angrily and pulled out of his embrace. His head shot up and he started rapidly shaking his head 'no’. “No-no, I care about you a-a lot,” he sobbed.

You shook your head, not believing him at all. “I-I really d-do!” George cried out and reached out his arms to grab you, but you backed up. He watched helplessly as you walked past him and to the couch so that you could sit down. “I don’t know if I can believe you anymore, George,” you spat his name out like venom.

His heart broke when you called him by his name, you never do that. You always called him 'love’ or 'sweetie’, really anything except his name. “But you can! When have I ever lied to you?” George asked and ran next to you on the sofa, dropping to his knees in front of you. “When you said that the shop wouldn’t stop you from being there for me!” you sobbed.

He looked like he was about to say something, but he couldn’t say anything. You scoffed and stood up, walking to your shared room, and slamming the door. “Wait, Y/n! Wait! Please!” George pleaded and banged on the door.

You just sobbed and slid down the door. He was on the other side leaning his head against the door, banging it occasionally, and sobbing. He felt horrible and so did you. But, you couldn’t do it anymore; waiting for him every day, not knowing when he’ll get home, or eating dinner by yourself every night.

You. just. couldn’t. anymore.

You stood up from the door, which George heard. You grabbed a bag and walked over to your dresser to pack some clothes. You weren’t going to leave him entirely, but he needed to get it through his head that you didn’t deserve to be treated this way.

“Y/n!” George sobbed, “Open the door, sweetheart!”. You just wiped away your tears and kept putting clothes in your bag. “Please!” George sobbed and banged the door. You breathed out and walked over to the door, opening it. He slightly smiled when he saw you but it immediately dropped when he saw the bag in your hands.

“Y/n, what are you doing?” he asked. “Leaving,” you simply stated and pushed past him, “not for a long time, but enough time for you to figure yourself out,”. “But you don’t need to go away! I love you, isn’t that enough?” George asked, you just jerked your head around to look at him.

George breathed out, “I know that I’ve been at the shop a lot and I know that we haven’t planned the wedding at all. I just-”, “'You just’ what?! You just have a lot of work to do which makes you just forget all about your fiance?! The love of your life?!” you screamed.

“But I haven’t forgotten about you! Look, I know I screwed up, but pleas-please don’t leave. We’ll figure it out together, we always do!” George sobbed. “We haven’t been doing a lot together lately. It seems to just be you with me trailing behind,” you spat.

“I didn’t know you felt that way and-and I’m sorry. But, I’m begging you, please don’t go. You’re the one thing that’s been keeping me going these past few months,” George pleaded, “when I come home and you’re asleep, I love to hold you close when I get into bed. It’s calming and makes me forget all about the stress of running the shop. On my breaks, I always look at the picture of us at the Yule ball that’s on my desk. I have the little friendship bracelet you made for me when we were first years in my pocket with me at all times,”. He pulled a tiny bracelet out of his pocket, and sure enough, it was the charm bracelet that you gave to him all those years ago.

“You’re the one thing that’s kept me from losing it, so please don’t go. I’ll fix it- we’ll fix it- together,” George said and walked slowly up to you.

You stood there for a second, taking everything that he said in. It was the same for you too. Even though you never saw him anymore, he was the one thing that was keeping you from leaving him completely.

No matter what happened between the two of you, no matter how bad it was, your love for each other always shined through and brought you two to your senses about the fact that you both loved each other and there was nothing that could change that.

You dropped your bag and ran to him to hug him, nearly knocking him over. “Oh, love. You don’t understand how much I love you,” he whispered and kissed your temple. “I love you too,” you said, “Really?” he asked. “How could I not?” you giggled.

He smiled so big that it made your heart swell with happiness. You two quickly locked lips and stayed there until you both were out of breath. “I love you so so so much, and I’ll never let you feel that bad again,” George breathed out, “I love too, ginger,” you giggled, making him smile even bigger if that’s even possible. You two then shared another passionate kiss.

You two really were walking a tightrope. At any moment everything could come crashing down, but then again, life with George was exciting and unexpected. As long as you two kept your balance and kept loving each other, you would keep walking along that tightrope effortlessly and your life would be magnificent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

xoxo

#george weasley #george weasly x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley imagine #harry potter characters x reader #harry potter fanfiction

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scumbag-monthly · 1 year

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The Young Ones Were: A Final Word from Scumbag Monthly’s Editor 🖕💚

I was going to post this on 7th March – the birthday of the pan global phenomenon himself – but I think the emotion will be stronger tonight. Either way, I’ve chosen this post to say my last farewells to Scumbag Monthly and thank the people who helped make it what it was.

It was my decision as editor to end SM at Issue #25 and it was a difficult one to make. Although SM has come with both pros and cons, it’s something I’ve enjoyed creating and is something I’m very proud of. In a way, it would have been easier to carry on – sticking with the familiar is always easier – but I didn’t want our fanzine to drift off into nothingness. I thought twenty-five was a good number to end it at. Three years; twenty-five issues; three Rik specials; a zine for the fortieth anniversary – I think we’ve done alright, all things considered. More than alright! I’m so happy that we were able to add to the fandom in some small way.

I have a head for dates, so I can tell you with 99% certainty that I took on the reins of editorship at SM on 14th May 2020. It’s weird that that time feels both close and far away – international pandemics will do that to you. I’ve seen engagement and interest in this zine ebb and flow over the years. We’ve never really received enough submissions to keep us afloat long term. I used to ask my mutuals if I could add old art of theirs to zines to keep the Drawing Room full, and the amount of my fic that made its way into SM was not the result of an overinflated ego (I promise!), more the result of fic submissions falling even lower than art submissions. We’re a small fandom; that’s always been a problem for SM. While I’ve continually emphasised the importance of submissions to SM – how else would SM involve those not working behind the scenes? – the truth is that the end products simply wouldn’t have arrived on our website be it not for the so-called scumbag staff who dedicated their free time to making pages and content.

With a small fandom and ergo a small team, SM’s ambitions had to be realistic. We would all have loved to bring new segments out in every issue but, with a lot to do and limited time to get it done each time, this often wasn’t possible. I never wanted SM to become a burden to the people who made pages for it, as we all lead offline lives and SM was simply a passion project – we made this because we wanted to, because it was fun.

I won’t deny there have been points where SM burnt me out a tad. I think it was easy to lose sight of things during the lockdowns, or simply fall completely into one project. There are some zines where well over twenty of the pages were made by me because they had to be, and I’ve often feared that The People’s Poetry suffered because of this. I’m very pleased and grateful to point out that the page share became slightly less exaggerated after we found different people for each character, but (and I’m afraid I am going to have to be egotistical now XD) I’d be lying if I denied every zine since Issue #4 isn’t drenched in my blood, sweat, and improvised version of graphic design (not actually my passion, me being primarily a writer and all XD).

I hope this isn’t sounding too negative because SM really does mean a lot to me. I think it’s just that a mixed relationship is guaranteed with anything you give a lot of yourself to and I want to be honest here, at the end. It’s going to feel weird for me for a little while: no more new documents to set up, no more new pages to make, no more themes to discuss, no more Google Forms to collect. I will miss SM, but thanks to the internet it’ll actually still be here. We’ll be keeping the website up as an archive and the same with our Tumblr blog and Instagram (scumbag_monthly). For future runs of the Rik and Ade Fest, another blog has been set up (@rikandadefest). SM has also had a Redbubble on the down low for some time now and we’re planning on adding our designs of the lads there soon, if any of you fancy owning something with those on.

I realise this whole post comes at the risk of sounding pretentious and melodramatic… but sod it, you know? Here are the people I’d like to thank individually, on behalf of our fanzine.

@theevilesteviled -

First of all, the creator of SM: the reason you’re even reading this right now. During the period in which SM got going – that calm before the utter shitstorm of 2020 – we spoke nearly every day… though, living on different sides of the globe did limit our talk time to early mornings and late evenings. Ed is the reason SM ever launched. She did almost everything for the first few zines, often at the cost of her own sanity, and she inspired a passion for this fanzine within me.

In May 2020, when I found myself in lockdown limbo between college and university, Ed was struggling with the brunt of SM plus the new hell of online classes. When I took charge of Issue #4, I don’t think I realised the extent of what I was taking on – I certainly didn’t expect to still be editor nearly three years later! Even so, without Ed SM wouldn’t have gotten as far as Issue #4. I’ll admit when she initially proposed the idea for a The Young Ones fanzine, I didn’t assume it would ever actually happen. I agreed to take on Rick’s page, but never allowed myself to imagine we’d end up with a project that’d last three years. Surely, it was only other people who could pull off that kind of thing, right? Surely, a group of introverted young adults online weren’t really going to get anywhere with this, were we?

I’m not trying to make SM sound bigger than it is – I’m well aware how niche we are, have always been – but the point I’m trying to make is: thanks to Ed spearheading SM in the early days, I had the profound realisation that I can actually be creative and try new things and they’re not destined to fall completely flat on their faces. I think everyone involved with SM, be it through making pages or submitting their work, has experienced a version of this same realisation with the publication of each zine.

That’s thanks to Ed, so I’d like to formally express my gratitude. Thank you, ya bastard.

@xgardensinspace -

The lovely Deya! Deya has always been a big part of SM, right from the beginning. The portraits of Vyvyan, Rick, Neil, Mike, Balowski, and P that appeared regularly in our zines were drawn by them, as well as the ten portraits of our staff on our website. That’s not even mentioning the five exemplary covers they’ve whizzed up for SM!

Not only is Deya an exceptionally talented artist, they’re also an enthusiastic team player. From Issue #11 onwards, they’ve been our resident Mike. As most of us agree, Mike is the most difficult young one to characterise – Deya rose to the challenge with full commitment. Alongside taking on Mike’s Moments, for a period of time in late 2021 Deya posted as Mike to SM’s Instagram every Thursday, providing all of us with funny insights into Mike’s sense of fashion. There have also been times when my SM workload proved too much and they stepped up to write Comic Strip reviews for our Strip Tease – in fact, one of my favourite reviews is the one of Five Go Mad on Mescalin we wrote together for Issue #18.

Deya has always been passionate about SM, even when it seemed there were only a few of us who were. They’ve been incredibly supportive and understanding, often one of the first to volunteer to make art or write pieces for specials. To put it lightly, SM would be left severely lacking without their endless contributions and help and for that reason I’m incredibly thankful to them.

Last spring, I was lucky enough to finally meet Deya, when they visited the UK on holiday, and they were just as lovely in person as they are online. Thank you ever so much for your work on SM, you really are a cool person.

@drinkysketch -

I felt it only right to single out Julia here. Fandom spaces are ever changing and the individuals who’ve contributed to SM are no different. Despite this, Julia has been a constant cover artist for SM – not only did she create our first ever cover art back when SM was completely unknown, she’s since provided us with five more pieces for our covers. As the clever trousers among you will have worked out, that’s six in total. Almost a quarter of our regular zines!

There’s something instantly likeable about Julia’s art style: the shapes, the bright colours, the insistence on always giving Vyvyan one eye bigger than the other. The cover of Issue #1 especially is representative of SM – it’s the establishing shot – and I couldn’t imagine a better piece of art than the one Julia provided us with. I’d like to thank her for always being so eager to make art for us, even as the world’s gotten crazier and crazier. True scumbag style!

@codrington-road -

It was April 2020 when Haley first emailed SM with a fanfic submission and an offer to make pages for Neil. These were the early days of SM – Ed and I were just about keeping up with the zine’s Rick and Vyv content but were seriously struggling where Mike and Neil were concerned. It’s thanks to Haley that Neil is the only young one I’ve never had to make a page for… well, aside from that time we switched characters for April Fool’s in Issue #14… and she’s been a constant, reliable presence at SM since Issue #4.

There probably aren’t many people who could come up again and again with hilarious horoscopes on purpose, and I don’t know for exactly how many Wednesdays Haley manned Neil’s entries to our Instagram stories, but it was a lot. 9th June 2021 fell on a Wednesday – a little daunting for anyone. Yet, I think it’s that entry from ‘Neil’, a touching piece about missing people who are no longer here while still carrying the warmth they gave us within us, that sticks out to me the most.

Haley has always brought the exact right levels of surrealism, humour, and bloody hippie moping to Neil. She is probably secretly Nigel Planer. She’s helped keep the excitement for SM alive in me when I’ve been at my wit’s end with it and is in fact the main reason this fanzine didn’t fold after Issue #19. Honestly, she’s great. Have you read the fanfic she’s submitted? Pure brilliance. Her reviews of Rik Mayall's Bedside Tales and GLC were sublime.

Thank you, Haley, for encouraging not just me but everyone behind the scenes of SM and for being our resident Neil for so long. I know you’re a girlie, but I hope the seed of your loin is fruitful in the belly of your woman. Ta very much!

@martian-martian-martian -

Part of SM since Issue #18, Wisely is a person who truly deserves so much love. I first spoke to Wisely on Tumblr when they signed up to write about Rick and Kevin in our second Rik zine, in 2021. Needless to say, the results of their endeavours were some of the most memorable pieces in that zine. Rick still hasn’t recovered.

After that, Wisely only became more and more involved in SM, until they’d taken on the enigmatic fifth housemate, that scumbag named Petyr, as a regular in our zine. They did this despite the graphic design element being out of their comfort zone and even came up with a whole new page idea to spearhead. Cliff ‘sHits – as well as having a perfectly Young Ones-esq name – is exactly the kind of thing I always hoped would start happening with SM: that staff would strike out with new page ideas when they had the time. Wisely has a talent for twisting well known verses to fit the scumbag agenda and we thank them for it.

A keen promoter of SM – they could frequently be found suggesting submitting to our fanzine in the comments of TYO fanart on Tumblr – they’ve even written fanfic to keep zines full of content. I’d like to thank them for joining the team and enhancing the zine in the process. SM is all the better for having them.

@the-tardis-in-221b-baker-street -

Zoe already has a name for herself in Rik Mayall circles outside the scumbags; what fan wouldn’t go absolutely crazy at the sheer time and dedication she puts into her many cosplays? Zoe has a knack for morphing into the bastards she portrays… physically, at least. I’ve always found her to be as friendly as Alan B’Stard is devious. XD

It was during SM’s hiatus, when the spot of resident Vyvyan fell vacant, that Zoe immediately jumped at the chance to help SM out. Since Issue #20, she’s provided the voice of the beloved punk as well as producing a page of her own design, Top of the Plops. Zoe has also been quick to help out where reviews of Filthy, Rich and Catflap and of the music in The Young Ones are concerned, for which I am very grateful. Despite being the newest staff member at SM, she’s thrown herself fully into it and offered much needed reassurance and submissions whenever necessary. Zoe has been an optimistic voice at the fanzine: always up for new ideas and competitions, always there with schemes to boost engagement. Her DnD stats for the lads in Issue #24 were incredible.

We’ve had many scumbags writing for Vyvyan at SM over the years – more than we’ve had for any other character – and I’m thrilled we got Zoe in for our final run. She even made the cover art for our last issue. Thank you!

@aspinecone -

Aspen is someone I’ve shared online fandom spaces with since 2017. We’re both fans of Red Dwarf, but it was our shared enjoyment of The Young Ones that finally got us talking to one another. Last autumn, we finally met in person when we went to see Ade in A Christmas Carol - a brilliant day with a great friend that I'll always remember.

Aspen has had a presence behind the scenes of SM since the beginning, often submitting fanart and the odd piece of fanfic, until they took on the role of resident Balowski at SM from Issue #16 onwards. Creating content for the character most out of the loop with the others isn’t as easy as you might think, but Aspen has always produced insane, amusing pages for him. Aspen was also the original cover artist pencilled in for Issue #21, but graciously stood aside when they realised offline commitments were going to need more of their time.

During SM’s run, I’ve sometimes had hairbrained schemes such as making the badges several scumbags will be receiving very, very soon. I’m no design whiz – Ed and I always made SM out of Word Documents – and Aspen helpfully volunteered to remove the backgrounds from designs and clean them up. Like I’ve always said, producing SM has been a team effort. I’d like to thank Aspen for always being in my corner.

@cloubdustings -

Ava, the mad meme machine! If I recall correctly, Ava first popped up in scumbag circles in late 2020. She surprised SM with cover art for Issue #10 and kindly took on the role of resident Vyvyan from that same issue until Issue #19. 2021 was not a fun year – in fact, I’d argue it was worse than 2020 in some respects – so having Ava on the SM team to handle all Vyvyan content was a great help.

Ava has a very distinct sense of humour and you can usually tell which British comedian she’s most recently become obsessed with by checking her Instagram. XD Even with changing tastes, she’s still making content about Mr Mayall and her brand of whackiness is most definitely beloved by the fandom. Thank you for sharing it with SM!

@lumivarjo -

Lumi was around at the very beginning of SM and is actually responsible for the piece of grey tape bearing the zine’s name that became our logo. He was our original resident P, producing pages for us during the autumn of 2020. Lumi has always been more behind the scenes than at the forefront of SM, but has nonetheless also always been supportive. Being an artistic sod, Lumi is to thank for many of the key headers SM used, which were all vital pieces of the SM brand… if we want to get really pretentious. Thank you for being there for the zine!

@serenpop -

Pol was also around when Ed was proposing this insane new idea of a fanzine for The Young Ones and was our first resident Neil. Offline commitments saw them have to drop the role, but they reappeared again to help us out when we needed cover art at a pinch for Issue #9. A lot of SM’s Drawing Rooms have featured art from Pol, so I’d like to thank them for brightening up our pages!

Additionally, I'd like to thank the other scumbags who’ve made cover art for us: @frankenbolt (who made three(!) beautifully chaotic covers, including everybody’s favourite Modern AU); @whatacompletebastard (for the fab Breakfast Club parody that’s always been popular with the scumbags); @heinzpilsnerbloody (another talented artist who drew me a whole bunch of cool stuff in an exchange and kindly helped SM out); @colourshot-draws (our first anniversary zine cover artist and a genuinely lovely person); @postpunkpontypandyphantomthief (a massive Rik Mayall fan and integral part of the fandom); thedinodoodles (for being ahead of the curve and bringing us pirates before the Tumblr obsession); @rikhead (for the sheer dedication to detail on her cover and for her legendary skills in Rik Pic Hunting™); and @smashingblouses (for providing us with the brilliant TYO 40th anniversary zine cover art). I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: SM couldn’t have functioned without its cover artists. Thank you all. Big respec.

There are a few final scumbags I wish to mention and thank - SM's cheerleaders, if you will. These people have brightened up my day on various occasions and their enthusiasm helped make the zine what it was: @anglophobias, @my-blood-is-maple-syrup, @friedhofcreative, @shotsofnovacaine, @5gogh2, @mariigoldmayall, and @fourstarsandahamster.

Finally, of course, I’d like to say a quick thank you to the people who inspired this fanzine in the first place. Without the canon, there would be no fanon. They’re never going to read this thank Cliff but without the brilliance of Rik Mayall, Adrian Edmondson, Nigel Planer, Christopher Ryan, Alexei Sayle, Ben Elton, Lise Mayer, and all the recurring comic guest stars of The Young Ones, SM would have quite literally never existed.

We need comedy in hard times – to call out the shits in power, to keep us grounded, to simply make us laugh. I count myself incredibly lucky to have stumbled across fans of this anarchic ‘80s sitcom on Tumblr. Despite the time gone by between 1982 and 2023 and the changes in society and sensibilities, I think it’s an incredibly good thing that this comedy still connects with us. Most of the people I’ve spoken to on here, like me, weren’t alive during TYO’s initial run. It’s often assumed by certain bastards who shall remain nameless that the youth are trying to kill comedy, that we take offence too easily, that comedy classics are a thing of the past. To them I say: UP YOURS, UGLY! As long as there are people, there will be laughter; and among those of us laughing, there will be the young ones.

So thank you, scumbag reader, for downloading our zines and supporting our bastardly endeavours.

Signing off from Scumbag Monthly for the last time,

- R / @neil-neil-orange-peel <3

"This is it! It's really happening! Who needs qualifications? Who cares about Thatcher and unemployment?! We can do just exactly whatever we want to do! And you know why? Because we're Young Ones. Bachelor boys! Crazy, mad, wild-eyed, big-bottomed anarchists!!" - The People's Poet, 1984

#scumbag monthly #the young ones #tyo #rik mayall #fanzine #notice #goodbye

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nextstopwonderland · 2 years

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Masterlist of Taika/Rhys content I’ve posted on tumblr

Because I do so love archiving things.

(If putting anything on Twitter, especially photo edits/vid compilations please give proper credit)

Videos

Compilations (do not repost without credit)

Us Against the World: Interview compilation part 1

We’re in this Together: Interview compilation part 2

We were there for each other: Interview compilation part 3

We have similar souls: Interview compilation part 4

A Taika gushes over ofmd & Rhys 15 min supercut

Rhys + “the managerial role”

Rhys + “the managerial role” - the WWDITS edition

Rhys & Taika + working together

Taika + Rhys + “perfect”

Taika + Rhys + “great(est)”

Yet another casting related compilation

“Taika and I get each other’s vibe” -Wilderpeople bts compilation

“Do i ever make you laugh that hard?”

“It’s one of my favorite scenes in the film, because of him” - What we do in the shadows directory commentary compilation

Taika + the most fun being with Rhys

“You weren’t acting there, were you?” - in which the FYC q&a is like an established relationship romcom

Clips

“I never want those moments to end”

Rhys and the blackbeard bar & grill scene

“I was doing an erotic dance for my friends” vibes

“It was always the most exciting - for me- when it was just me a Rhys”

“We’re gonna work together forever. I know that.”

“Having Taika there made it easier to do. Because we’re in this together.”

“Put your Kraken arms around me... and take me... and squeeze me”

“This is all perfect” | full version

“The parallel between fiction and fact and life and creativity was so close”

Rhys discussing 2002 Fringe Fest and Taika

“We met on the comedy circuit in New Zealand”

“To trust each other”

“I spoke to you bro!! 🥺”

“He invites me into his special tent” (private 🔒)

Rhys discusses OFMD beginning of filming (private 🔒)

Rhys discusses adjusting to the filming schedule & guest stars (private 🔒)

Compilation of Rhys’s OFMD talk on The Cryptid Factor (private 🔒 )

“When’s the werewolf question coming up?”

“I only come here for the ring toss!”

Wilderpeople Sundance compilation

“One of the reasons he probably said yes is because he was opposite me”

Rhys discusses being cast in ofmd

“Finish each other’s sentences”

“I DO take direction well!”

“We had a each other to lean on”

“There’s just this synchronicity between our brains and the way that we act or improvise where we always seem in tune”

Rhys discussing scenes with Taika and next goal wins

Taika discussing Rhys during Wilderpeople DVD commentary

the FYC private foot tap

“See you in there, babe” - S2 spoilers (BTS footage)

“When I direct him, it’s easy. And when we act together, it’s even better.” - bts interviews, S2 spoilers

“See you in there, babe” - the Samba edition (edit, S2 spoilers)

Other Collabs

Rhys’s part of 2015 Taika directed charity vid

Rhys in Crazy Domains commercials directed by Taika

Audio

“I love how he makes movies, he’s fucking fantastic”

“I always knew i’d end up working with Rhys. I always do.”

Rhys talks being directed by Taika

“We really dig a lot deeper in this show to get into the psyche of these two characters” (Takes place right after the above audio)

“Thanks, Taiks!”

“I love him”

Taika on being able to have fun acting, fanart, and s2

David and Taika discuss the romance aesthetic and the end of episode 1

Rhys discussing his ghost experience at 2002 Fringe fest

Rhys discussing early comedy days with Taika and next goal wins from 2020

WWDITS Australian promo tour compilation

“He’s an amazing artist and I’ve seen everything he’s done”

“We haven’t changed who we are.”

Picspams

Taika and Rhys through the years

Taika and Rhys + Space Waltz (includes link)

Unicorn floats

No thoughts just these photos

WWDITS promotion

Gifs from vids

Find someone who looks at you...

Find someone who… part 2

Taika agrees with the above find someone’s apparently

More press promo tours

Another pic compilation

Taika photographing Rhys for FOTC

Taika + Rhys + hands

Taika + Rhys + beatboxing + heartseyes

FYC q&a stills

Next Goal Wins premiere

Quotes

“It was a pleasure romancing with you, Ed”

Quote compilation part 1 (in which i originally say they met at Fringe in 2002 because Rhys confused me, but in actuality they knew each other before that. Post has since been edited 🤣)

Quote compilation part 2

Pics + Quotes Compilations

“We’re good for each other, so it just works”

“Let’s just have some fun”

“Just Breathe, Rhysie”

Yet another photo + quote compilation

1996 vs. 2002

Rhys once again discussing their chemistry, love, and “magic”

“Rhys is inherently loveable. You can not help but love him.”

Ed + Stede + romance tropes

“I still see within Taika the same alternative comic from the 90s.”

“Taika has obvious sex appeal and I never have.”

“We’ve kind of been taking on the world together”

“I always play the nice guy and he’s always a prick”

“So, all of Rhys’s lines.”

_________________________________

Graphics

Mixes with cover art (Blackbonnet)

Without the one you love

The reason I hold on

The part of me I can’t let go

#taika/rhys #masterposts #masterlists

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drsteggy · 6 months

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Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

I was tagged by @cyraclove - thank you so much, I really enjoy these!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

175,330…I wrote 100k of that in 2020

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Legend of Zelda…mostly in my non canon but could be a game AU

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Uneasy Lies the Chosen of Farore

Reunion

Eternal Shipwreck of our Hopes

Nothing (but Flowers)

Homecoming

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I DO! I love having a little back and forth. I enjoy nerding out with people and maybe making friends

6. What is a fic you write with the angstiest ending?

7. What’s the fi. You wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not that I’ve seen on AO3. I had an anonymous jerk on FFN, so I left there.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I DO. I write pretty vanilla but explicit stuff where everyone has a fun time. Sometimes it’s silly.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I am not really into crossovers unless the premise really makes sense to me.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I did have one turned into a podfic!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not, not sure I have the personality for it.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Hmmmmmmm Mulder/Scully and Link/Zelda

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Nayru’s Counterpart. Though I’m considering a rewrite of the fic this is an offshoot of, and will roll it into that if said rewrite happens.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Action, combat in particular.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I love repeating words, sometimes in the same sentence…and then I can flip the other way and use a really ridiculous word when like….’said’ is perfectly fine.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I live in a place where I regularly hear people talk in languages I don’t understand, or maybe I can catch a word here and there, so I’d be fine with that if it makes sense in the fic. I don’t want to learn high elven or whatever while I’m reading, so it could be gibberish or maybe I catch a word or two. It depends on the story

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Fraggle Rock when I was like….13. In notebooks. That I still have. They were illustrated.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

This is a super rude question.

I reread my own work. A lot of it was custom made for me! I think my favorite is still Uneasy Lies the Chosen of Farore. I love some of the arcs through it. I don’t look back on it and cringe, though I know I could do it better. It came during a time I needed it. I love it.

I am not sure who to tag here so….no pressure shouts to @zeldadiarist @m-r-levine @kittmoon @snidgetwidgeon and ummm @spicychestnut

#fic asks #my fic #fic writing #writblr

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unsightedjoker · 11 months

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Spider-man: ATSV NSR AU

Ok, I usually don’t post stuff and only reblog and like stuff but since i just watched Spider-man ATSV and I really liked it that it hasn’t left my mind and won’t leave it any time soon I’m still so hyped I feel like sharing this. I was on my way home when I started to listen to the NSR soundtrack and the inevitable happened just remembering the premise for the game and what happens in the movie I started connecting thoughts and this entire AU happened.

My writing isn’t the best to make a fanfic that does justice to my ideas at the moment and hell if I can’t write I have even worse at drawing so making fanart for this is also out of the picture.

For anyone who doesn’t know NSR (No Straight Roads) it’s an indie game from 2020 that’s very underrated from what I’ve seen. The plot is very simple a Rock duo Mayday (a guitarist) and Zuke (a drummer) enter a competition made to scout for new talents that want to join NSR, a company that besides functioning as a music company works as the main energy supplier for the city by using a Mcguffin that transforms music into energy. Anyways NSR turns out to be a group of EDM artists that have complete control over the city and never allow any other genres to join especially not rock, so after getting rejected and suffering a city wide power outage (which NSR is completely inmune from) our rock duo decides to start a revolution to bring back Rock and take down NSR by hijacking their concerts. If you have not played it take this as a recommendation the art style, gameplay and music are reaaaally good (worth mentioning the music for each boss is dynamic it starts as EDM but as you start having the upper hand the music turns into a rock version of the same song).

The premise for the game and having Gwen and Hobie right there in the movie made this AU inevitable in my mind so I’m sharing it here.

So the characters I’ll be using changing for the AU will be the two main protagonists and the 6 main bosses of the game.

First off the protagonists

Because it’s a guitarist and drummer Gwen and Hobie take Mayday and Zuke’s place that one seems a bit obvious to me. It can also be Gwen and Miles but I ended up choosing Gwen and Hobie. However instead of starting their movement after being rejected by NSR they’re fully into their revolution agenda and hijacking the EDM concerts

DJSS

The first boss is Dj Subatomic Supernova and honestly that one was also an easy pick as he directly fits with Spot, especially because of his last phase in his fight where his face breaks and it looks like a black hole ejecting black matter or whatever. They’re both also so self-centered and silly.

SAYU

Sayu is the second boss and consists of a virtual idol (like Hatsune Miku) made as a project by four adolescents so for the au she could be made by peni parker and the virtual reality spiderwoman (i can’t remember her name :’) ) but idk who else could be put as one of Sayu’s creators in this AU.

YINU

Yinu is a child pianist prodigy so for her I’d go with Mayday Parker, since Yinu also gets help from her mother during the fight I guess Mary Jane helps her or maybe Peter B. idk? It’s just that Yinu’s dad in the game is dead and that’s also one of the reasons she plays her piano because her dad taught her. Yinu’s character is supposed to represent the lack of control child prodigies have in their lives because their parents or guardians are in charge of making all the decisions during their youth so I imagine Hobie would spend a bunch of this confrontation telling her to go wild and start doing whatever she wants to do while Gwen would tell Peter or Mary Jane to pay more attention to Mayday and be a better single parent, culminating in the piano solo at the end of Yinu’s boss fight

1010

So this one’s a bit weird but hear me out. 1010 consists of a boy band made up by 5 robots that are almost identical with the exception of their color and hairstyle so in this case it’s five alternate versions of Miles Morales robots as a boyband while the original Miles (the one that isn’t a robot) is Neon J (the creator of 1010) in this AU. I ended up choosing Miles for this one because despite how much Mayday says she despises them she has a crush on 1010 and while Gwen and Miles wouldn’t really act like Mayday and 1010 respectively I still chose this because of that.

In a similar way Gwen has a crush on 1010Miles but she isn’t entirely into it because the Miles robots have an artificial vibe to them like prefabricated charm and personalities, they can fool a lot of people but not everyone. Once one breaks and the real Miles comes out to replace it they start focusing on him, Gwen and Miles throughout the fight start to realize they like each other mean while Hobie goesout of his way to show how he’s in the wrong as he should question the stuff they do and shouldn’t be following NSR, by the end when they defeat Miles he ends up accepting it and actually rooting for them to beat the remaining members.

I’m using an action figure as a substitute for robots lol

EvE

This one I reserved for my favorites Nadia (EvE) and Pavitr. Eve happens to be an eccentric artist and Diva that is the second in command because of her skill. There’s a couple of reasons I chose to have Pavitr in Eve’s place:

First, during the briefing before her fight it’s stated that the “instrument” she uses to make her music is her body and mind in contrast to all the previous artists which have actual specific instruments (from sinthesizers to a piano) which doesn’t explain much until you get to her fight and see her dance, she dances (and probably uses a bit of magic as well or something) to make her music. If I’m gonna give the ability to make music through the movement of their body to anyone it’s gonna be Pavitr.

Second, during her phases Eve shows she can warp the space around her in what she refers as the Diva’s realm and from what I remember the part of diva’s realm is supposed to be a reference to Deva’s realm and Devas are deities from hinduism if I’m not mistaken, so there’s also that.

Last but not least I like a bit of angst. In the game its shown Zuke and Eve used to have a good relationship as they were a duo and know each other closely to the point Zuke knows what’s going on in her mind while many don’t, however after a certain incident they disbanded. Similarly in this AU they used to be a duo until they received an invitation to join NSR, Pavitr wanted to share his music and art and be in contact with everyone in their community so he accepted, this however was a deal breaker for Hobie so they disbanded. Once he got his position Pavitr could share his music however after being put in a pedestal he no longer could keep in touch with his community as much when he wanted leaving him feeling isolated and only focuses on his craft now as a way to cope. Their fight besides being about taking him down would have the purpose of mending Hobie and Pavitr’s relationship.

TATIANA

This one was also very obvious Miguel takes Tatiana’s place. To begin they’re the respective leaders of their antagonistic faction but also majorly because the entire story of NSR and ATSV happens because both of them had a very specific personal problem and instead of dealing with it by themselves or getting help to solve it they decided to make it everyone else’s problem and never even try to recognize that maybe they’re wrong.

And that’s it that’s all I have in my mind

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anonniemousefics · 2 years

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Today, I am overcome — in the best way possible.

Let me show you why.

Back in 2020, I was working (and stalling out) on my first novel - but I was also a “frontline worker” during the first wave of Covid, when we didn’t really understand how it spread. I was working at a grocery store on the side, initially for some mad money, to make friends in a new town, and prior to March 2020, I was having a grand time with it. And then Covid hit, and my partner had to take a pay cut, and suddenly, I found myself on the front lines of a thing because we needed the money. And there were people coming in to the store in gas masks. Panic buying. Every day was scary. I was coming home at night and doing my best to basically strip down and sanitize my whole self, hoping I hadn’t brought disease home to my family. My novel took a back seat. Everything took a back seat.

And I’d been in this headspace before, years ago, and the thing that got me through then as a traumatized teen was writing fanfic. So when I found myself gnawing on a new idea about characters that I’d resonated with deeply, I thought, well, fuck it. The world is ending. I could die next week. Might as well have some fun while I’m still here. Cuz there are a million problems in the world I couldn’t solve, but getting my favorite characters to canonically fuck was not one of them. I was eager to solve just *one* problem. 😂

So, I wrote it to make myself feel better, and I thought, if 20 people read it, I’ll be happy. And then 20 people read it. And then a lot more people read it. A one shot turned into 5 parts. And I kept writing. I made friends — in the midst of the most isolating global crisis of our age, I *made new friends*. I got to connect with people who loved the characters as much as I did for the same reasons I did.

In short: I survived.

Eventually, we recovered financially and I got to leave that job, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget what got me through it mentally, emotionally: it was you guys.

So, this is why I’m so overcome! @specializationisforinsects and @pyrrhlc gifted me with this AMAZING HAND-BOUND COPY of the fic that started it all - the fic that kinda saved my life? And, guys, it is beautiful. It’s even prettier in person but have a look:

I know I’m just a little account, and I know I’m being kind of dramatic about this - but I guess I wanted to show that success in writing doesn’t have to look like sweeping popularity and landing book deals and making money. We live with this capitalist narrative that that’s the only way to know you’ve succeeded with your writing - that’s what will be celebrated and that’s how you’ll know your hard work was worth it. But sometimes, it looks like this. It is deeply satisfying knowing that my work resonated with people. It’s absolutely blissful knowing that someone put this much care and love and art into binding this fic with their own two hands. My life is so much more enriched from knowing people who like the same kind of art I do. I don’t know, guys - this feels like success to me.

When people irl hear that I write, they want to know what my goals are. What’s the next step, they want to know. What they mean is, how are you going to monetize it? I don’t know. Maybe someday that will happen for me. But I also know that don’t want it to happen at the expense of this blissful feeling I’m experiencing right now. This right here is priceless.

Thank you, Winston and Anne, from the bottom of my heart. This exceeds all my wildest fic dreams. ❤️

#take a chance on that story idea that won’t leave you alone #follow your bliss #different ideas on success #anti capitalism #fanfiction love #fanfic things #lovely people #six of crows #nonnie’s rambling and emotional again #art #book binding #fic binding #things to read when im sad

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mezmer · 4 months

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Does anyone remember the mezmer mom divorce saga?

In 2020 I conceived my daughter in July. Outdoors lol. A month and a half later I took the test and expected it to be negative. Well it was positive, and Johnny and my mom were home at the time. I walked to the top of the basement stairs where my mom was doing some laundry and I told her it was positive. She said, WHAT, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

At the time that year she’d been playing World of Warcraft with some friends she met online, which she had done off and on since the game came out. She did voice chat, was in a guild, etc. the night after I got the positive test, she was on voice chat playing WoW, and her voice seemed to be higher pitched than usual talking to a man in her guild. My stepdad, who she had been married to for ten years, just got off of work and he thought nothing of it. I thought it was strange and I had a mysterious and vague premonition. Over the week, she continued playing with the guy and even mentioned him to me in a way I also thought was strange. By the end of that month, divorce was on the table. I held my stepdad while he cried. He thought she was having an affair with her boss and I tried to tell him it was a guy on WoW and he did not believe me. I was very close to my stepdad and he had kept a roof over my head for years; he was a great man. One day, maybe a couple months later after many arguments, my mom jumped in front of my stepdad’s car as he was attempting to drive away from the house. She hung on to the hood and he slammed on the breaks. I was not present but this is what I’d gathered from the situation. She called the cops and he was arrested for DV. Everything after that changed fast. He wasn’t allowed in his childhood home we lived in and my mom took over the house. She took weeks off of work to fly to California to meet the guy she met playing WoW. She took my 10 year old half brother with her. She was terrified of flying, so it was huge that she’d chose to do this. Of course there was a restraining order in place with my stepdad. My mom asked me to watch her three dogs while she was on vacation, so I did. She sent me pictures and went on and on about this guy. Something really embarrassing happened I shouldn’t say. She sent me a video on accident, and this to me showed her brain was experiencing side effects of long term amphetamine use. She has been taking ADHD meds constantly since she was a young child. Her behavior was erratic. Nothing substantial was happening in my own life aside from my progressing pregnancy. Months still passed, and I kept asking her when Brandon was getting the house back. The answer was different but the same every time : I don’t know.

I knew this was going to be bad. I didn’t plan on moving in with Johnny’s family because I didn’t really know them. In the final months of my pregnancy, they told me they were renovating to make a nursery for our child and that was that. I started nesting as you would say, and I started having Johnny and his dad slowly move things out of the house. Keepsakes clothes etc. My mom was reassuring me I’d have time to get those things. I wasn’t in contact with my stepdad who was staying with his father. The divorce was progressing quickly. I was worried and kept taking totes of my grandma’s belongings out of the basement. Oh and, that guy she met? He left her and ghosted her one day. This was probably 75% of the way through my pregnancy. She thought she was gonna marry this guy. Well immediately after she started going on tinder dates with strangers and having me watch my little brother. By now I had moved in with Johnny totally and was about to give birth.

Until finally, my mom was evicted. Cops came with Brandon and told her she had minutes to leave. She called me hysterically crying that they’d kicked her out. I know in my heart of hearts she was aware of an eviction date and I still have no idea why she didn’t tell me what it was. I also still had important things there. Then I give birth, I have my seizures, she continues dating people from tinder, and didn’t spend much time at all with me and my newborn daughter. I don’t know where she stayed, but quickly she found a man to move in with who she is still with now, and she drinks more heavily than she ever had.

The point of this is the remnants of my relationship with my stepfather. He was destroyed by the divorce (they married when he was 24 and she was 34) and he found it difficult to speak to me at all. I was also a fentanyl addict before this all happened and as a substance abuser, our relationship was difficult even then, though we both loved each other and were close family. Well I’d gotten sober and had my baby, and I did reach out and begged him to give any extra belongings of me, mom, and brothers to me so I could keep them safe here. He allowed me to come get two loads of stuff at first. I came and we hugged and talked for a short period of time. One of the loads was mostly literal garbage he’d found in his bedroom that my mom had compiled over that time. He was a busy worker and had little time to go through things, so he stuffed it all in boxes and brought it to the driveway. We lost contact after that.

Until two days ago, my mom called and said Brandon is moving out and he has a few boxes for me if I’d come get it. She gave me his number, I texted him, and I said I can come today, and I did. This time, I brought my daughter and we tearfully talked and hugged each other. He gave me more sentimental items this time. We told each other we loved each other and he met my daughter. He told me he will keep in contact with me now, and that the divorce was really hard on him. I gave him a letter I wrote to make amends for my substance abuse. That was that. It was incredibly intense and I’ve been thinking of it nonstop since then.

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