#I think i must have thought i hit *record* but really it was hitting *stop recording*

[freebooter4ever]

I have more Geno pictures from behind the bench, do you want me to send them your way? They aren’t super different from what I have posted but some of them could be good references. Anyway, love your art and I hope your conference is going ok!

Oh my gosh i would love that!!! Your photos are great! A total different perspective than the publicity shots or official camera boys. i do have an email for this account: freebooter4ever @ gmail . So if that's easiest ^_^ i will gladly take any and all references for my collection lol! Sometimes i never know which one i want to draw until i try drawing it. Thank you so much!!!! (the conference, for better or worse, is over, and im still unemployed but now with extra sadness and depression and total hatred towards myself and my art, yay1 haha)

[goldsainz]

# F1 GRID — OOPS, WRONG PERSON !

MASTERLIST !

REQUEST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ you decide to pull a prank by “butt-dialing” your boyfriend.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ tiny tiniest bit of angst, barely proofread.

003. NOTE !

✯ i loveddd this request, so much fun to write! hope you all enjoy it because i don’t know if it’s quite as good as i intended. also, this is LONGGG so please let me know if you liked it 🫶

word count : 5,6k

★ CARLOS SAINZ

Carlos is genuinely surprised when he sees your name pop up on his phone, a facetime call incoming. Still, he doesn’t hesitate in answering. Whatever it is you might have to say must be important given the fact that you usually avoid making calls. Texts or face-to-face conversation being more your style.

What he doesn’t know, is you’re trying to keep your giggles to yourself. You have your back-up phone in hand, recording a TikTok trend you saw and decided to attempt with your boyfriend.

When Carlos answers, you pull yourself together and start speaking as if you were in the middle of a conversation. You wonder if the wall can see the idiocy of what you’re doing, if it’s judging you as you sit alone in your room whilst pranking your boyfriend.

“Amor?” Carlos asks, greeting you still slightly confused as to the reason for your call. You grin at his voice, your camera pointing to the ceiling so it seems like an accident.

“Honestly, I think I would tell him no,” you say to nobody in particular, making up a conversation.

“Hello? What’s going on?” He asks again, but you pay him no mind.

You continue your prank as best as you can, “I don’t know… I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of commitment,”

Carlos doesn’t respond instantly, but he gets the feeling that you’ve accidentally called him. He doesn’t hung up, no, he’s too nosy to do that. So, he keeps quiet in hopes that you continue whatever conversation you’re having.

“Do you think he would be mad?” You ask to your wall, “He’s really sweet, but that would anger anyone.”

What? He asks in his mind, trying to fill in the blanks to your conversation. Are you talking about him?

“He asked me the other day if I liked silver or gold better, isn’t that a sign?”

Oh, you so are talking about him.

When the realisation hits, he’s kind of sad. He didn’t ask it with the intentions you are insinuating, but you would really say no if he asked you to marry him? He can’t help but have his feelings hurt.

“I just don’t want to rush things.”

The silence on the other end of the phone is deafening. You would think he hung up if you weren’t so intently watching the screen on your phone. You feel slightly bad about the kind of conversation you’re having. A fake conversation, but still, you feel bad.

Deciding he’s had enough, Carlos hungs up. He won’t listen in on your conversation any longer, it’s doing him no good. He’s left with a bitter taste in his mouth, a weight crushing onto his chest as he ponder over your words. He didn’t know you felt that way, and truthfully, he could’ve gone on for longer without knowing.

Immediately, you call him back. He’s tempted to ignore the call but twice can’t be a coincidence.

“What?” He asks quickly after answering, when he sees your face his harsh frown softens but his tone doesn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you say, dragging the y, “It was a prank, mi vida.”

He freezes for a second and then lets out a sigh of relief, “It was?”

“Yes!” You exclaim, showing him your second phone, “Say hello to TikTok.”

“You scared me,” he says with a shake of his head, “I thought you were being serious.”

“Never,” you firmly respond, “Can’t wait to be Mrs. Sainz,”

He smiles at the sudden shyness of your voice, “Well, that’s a relief then,”

You laugh at his words then suddenly stop, “Wait, Carlos, what do you mean?”

He looks at you as best as he can through a camera lens, then laughs and blows you a kiss.

“Carlos! What do you mean?” You ask more desperately, searching for answers but he just laughs and says his goodbyes.

You are left with your mouth agape when he hangs up. The video is certainly funny, and you can’t wait to edit out the more intimate ending and post it. But you’re left with a nervous yet exciting feeling at the pit of your stomach.

Perhaps the prankster ended up being the one pranked. Though you hope it’s not a prank.

★ CHARLES LECLERC

You await Charles’ response to your facetime call, patiently sitting down on your bed and your other phone in hand, ready to record. 

When your incoming call appears on Charles’s screen, he instantly answers. He loves to hear from you, especially when he’s away from you and misses you deeply. 

“Hello, mon chou,” he says, smiling at the camera and then slightly frowning when he notices that your camera is completely black.

“Okay, so I’ll see you at seven, right?” You ask your bear plushie, smiling at the ridiculousness of the prank.

At your words Charles’ mood dips, trying to understand what you;re saying or better yet, who you're speaking to.

“I’m so excited to see you,” Maybe it's cruel to play such games when you're thousands of kilometres apart. 

You know how much Charles misses you, how gruelling being so far away from home is to him. It is to you as well, being separated from your boyfriend tears your heart apart each time, but you decide that maybe spicing things up a little could be just what you need.

"Wait, who are you talking to? Is someone else there?” He asks, fidgeting with his hair and straightening up from where he was sitting. 

You pretend to ignore his voice and continue with the prank, “Yeah, he’s in Canada right now.”

Your boyfriend is now agitated at your words, though he prides himself for his calmness in tense situations he's not sure how to act right now. Should he hang up? Shout so that you perhaps hear him? Or stick around for the call and understand who you're talking to?

“No no, don't even worry about him,” you have to stifle your giggles, looking at the plushy in front of you who has served as your faithful company while Charles is away.

He leans in closer to the camera, tilting his head slightly, trying to understand what’s going on. “Amour, who’s there with you? Is someone else there?” he asks, a little louder this time, but still in that soft, slightly panicked tone.

It takes everything in you not to break character, but you want to see how far you can go. And hey, if you can pull this off maybe an acting career is not so far away. 

“Honestly, it gets so boring around here but you make it better.”

Charles’ lips part as if he’s about to say something, but he hesitates. You can see him wrestling with his emotions. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, but the confusion and a bit of hurt are written all over his face. He glances away from the screen, clearly feeling awkward. “I mean... if you’re busy, I can call you later?” His voice is soft, polite as always, but there’s a hint of insecurity creeping in.

Finally, you can’t keep up the act anymore, and burst into laughter.

His eyes widen in realisation, and his face immediately softens with relief. “Wait, is this a joke?!” His hand goes to his chest, and he lets out a nervous laugh. “Mon dieu, I thought you were serious for a second! I was so confused.” He laughs now, more freely, shaking his head.

You grab your phone, fixing the angle so he can finally see you and just how alone you are in your room. “Yeah, it was just a prank. You should’ve seen your face!”

The giggles you're letting out make Charles smile, finding it endearing how such a simple thing entertained you. 

He groans playfully, clearly relieved but also slightly embarrassed. “You really got me... I didn’t know what to think! I was about to ask if I needed to fly out and speak with you!” He chuckles, running a hand through his hair again, his smile back and wider than ever. “But honestly, don’t do that again, chérie. I was about to lose my mind!”

You laugh, wiping a tear from your eye. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist! You were so confused, it was hilarious!”

He shakes his head with a grin, still amused, but now there’s a more serious note in his eyes. He leans a little closer to the camera, his voice softening. “I’m glad it was a joke, but you had me really worried for a second there. I didn’t know what I would’ve done if it was real...” He trails off, his expression turning thoughtful, like he’s truly imagining what it would feel like if you were talking to someone else.

You smile, feeling a bit guilty for messing with him. “I would never do that to you, Charles. It was just a prank.”

He breathes out a little sigh, then flashes you a tender smile that could melt anyone’s heart. “I know, I know. I trust you... but still, you’re so important to me.” His voice drops to a softer tone, his vulnerability shining through. “You don’t know how much I care about you. When I thought you might be talking to someone else... I don’t think I could’ve handled it.”

His sincerity catches you off guard, and your heart swells. Before you can say anything, he smiles again, a little sheepish now. “But anyway, good prank. I’ll give you that.” He points a playful finger at the screen. “Just remember, payback’s coming!” His grin is wide, but there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You raise an eyebrow, pretending to be unbothered. “Oh really? What are you going to do?”

Charles smirks, leaning back in his chair. “You’ll see. You’ll never know when it’s coming, but when it does, you’re going to regret pranking me!” He winks, but it’s clear he’s more than happy to let this prank slide for now.

Then, his voice softens again, and he gives you a look that’s pure affection. “But seriously... don’t scare me like that again. I like knowing I’m the only one you’re FaceTiming.” He smiles, his dimples showing, his face a mix of relief and playful charm.

You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay! I promise, no more pranks like that.”

“Good,” he says with a final grin, looking like he’s truly at ease again. Then, he blows you a quick kiss through the screen. “Now, tell me what you were actually doing before you called me. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

★ LANDO NORRIS

It’s late afternoon, and you’re feeling mischievous. You decide to pull a prank you saw earlier on TikTok on Lando. You know he will be caught off guard, and that’s exactly what you’re going for.

You set your phone on the couch, deliberately calling Lando without actually answering the FaceTime. Then, in a casual voice, you start the prank, pretending to have a conversation with someone else.

“Yeah, it was so fun hanging out last night. You’re hilarious!” you say, just loud enough for Lando to hear through the FaceTime call. “I can’t believe we stayed up talking for so long!”

On the other end of the line, Lando picks up immediately. Your contact name makes him smile, wondering what you’re about tell him. But when the call goes through, he’s confused, staring at your screen which faces the ceiling. “Wait… babe? Hello?” he says, glancing around as if trying to figure out what’s happening. He leans in, his brows furrowing when he hears you talking, but not to him.

“Yeah, it was so fun hanging out last night. You’re hilarious!” you say, just loud enough for Lando to hear through the FaceTime call. “I can’t believe we stayed up talking for so long!”

His eyes go wide as he looks closer at the phone, confusion spreading across his face. He shifts in his chair, trying to process what he’s hearing. “What? What’s going on? Who are you talking to?” he asks, his voice growing more anxious.

You continue the conversation, making it sound even more flirty. “Yeah, I didn’t expect to have that much fun either. You’re really something else.”

Lando's heart rate definitely spikes. He leans forward, the panic starting to creep into his voice. “Wait, wait, who’s there? Who’s she talking to?” He mutters to himself, wondering why the hell you can't hear his panicked voice but what he's more worried about is who you're talking to. 

“I’ll text you later, okay? Maybe we can hang out again soon?” you say, keeping your tone light and playful. “Yeah, it was really great seeing you. I’ll talk to you later!”

By now, Lando’s freaking out. He’s still staring at the phone screen, but you can see the uncertainty and jealousy building. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a nervous laugh. “Okay, this can’t be real. Am I being punked or something? Who the hell are you talking to?” He leans in closer, almost yelling now. “Babe! Hello! Can you hear me?!”

You pretend not to hear him and keep talking to the imaginary guy. “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow. Can’t wait.”

He finally breaks, face twisting into disbelief, and he throws his hands in the air. “Are you serious right now? Who the hell is this guy?!” His voice cracks, and he’s clearly spiralling at this point. “Babe! BABE! Who are you talking to?! Are you with someone else?!” He’s practically on the edge of his seat, completely panicking.

You can’t hold back anymore and burst out laughing, picking up the phone.

Lando’s eyes are wild as he sees you finally holding the phone properly. “Wait… what? What’s going on? Who are you—” He stops mid-sentence as he realises you’re laughing, and it slowly dawns on him. “Oh my god.” He slumps back in his chair, groaning dramatically. “Noooo, don’t tell me this was a prank!”

Still laughing, you nod. “Yep! You got butt-dialed, babe.”

His face is still frozen in disbelief. “Are you joking right now?” he asks, his voice going up an octave. His hand is over his chest like he’s trying to calm his racing heart. “You seriously just made me think you were talking to another guy?”

“Uh-huh,” you reply, barely holding back more laughter.

He leans closer to the screen, his eyes wide. “I’m literally sweating! My heart was in my throat, and you were over here just… casually chatting with some ‘guy.’” His voice cracks a little as he says “guy,” and his dramatic reaction makes you laugh harder.

“Oh, come on, it was just a little prank,” you tease.

Lando shakes his head, looking somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Little prank? I was literally about to start a fight with the air! I’ve never been so confused in my life!” He lets out a long, dramatic sigh, slumping back in his chair. “I’m in shambles right now. I’ve been emotionally attacked.”

You try to stop giggling, but his over-the-top reaction just keeps it going. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a heart attack!”

“Too late,” he says with mock seriousness. “The damage is done. I might need to lie down after this.” He pauses, staring at you with narrowed eyes, a small smirk forming on his lips. “You owe me big time.”

You roll your eyes, still smiling. “Oh, really? And what exactly do I owe you?”

Lando crosses his arms, feigning deep thought. “Well, first off, you owe me a massive apology. And then maybe…” His eyes light up as the thought hits him. “You can take me out for a nice dinner, pay for dessert, and— oh! I’m thinking a full day of pampering.”

You laugh, raising an eyebrow. “Pampering? What do you think this is, a spa?”

He grins, leaning back in his chair and looking more relaxed now. “Hey, I deserve it after what you just put me through. I was about to show up at your place ready to fight some random guy I didn’t even know existed!”

“Alright, alright,” you say, playfully rolling your eyes again. “I’ll pamper you. But just this once!”

Lando’s grin grows wider. “Deal. But I’m definitely getting you back for this, by the way. Just so you know.”

You can’t help but laugh at his scheming. “I’d expect nothing less from you.”

He tilts his head, his eyes softening slightly. “But seriously, don’t scare me like that again, okay? My poor heart can’t take it.” His voice drops into a teasing whine, but there’s a touch of genuine relief there too.

You smile, feeling a little guilty now. “I promise, no more butt-dial pranks.”

Lando sighs in mock relief, then grins. “Good. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’m expecting that pampering session to start soon. I’m thinking back rubs and snacks. Lots of snacks.”

You shake your head with a laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” he says cheekily, winking at you.

★ LEWIS HAMILTON

It’s late in the evening, you’re lounging on the couch, scrolling through social media when a mischievous idea pops into your head: prank Lewis. It’s been a long week for him, and you know he’s probably relaxing after a day full of meetings and training. That makes it the perfect time to catch him off guard.

Picking up your phone, you set it on the couch beside you, face down, so it looks like a genuine mistake. Then, with one quick swipe, you FaceTime him. The phone rings a few times before Lewis picks up. You can see from the tiny preview screen that he’s in the hotel, leaning back in his chair, probably unwinding after the busy day he's had.

At first, he looks confused when he sees the camera pointing at your ceiling. “Babe?” he calls out, his voice soft and curious. “Did you call me?”

You ignore his soft voice, pretending you don’t realise you’ve called him. Instead, you start the staged conversation with your "friend” who really just is an unbothered Roscoe, who's resting by your feet and not paying much attention to anything.

“I don’t know, I just feel like things with Lewis aren’t working anymore,” you say with a sigh, making your voice sound hesitant, like you’re deep in thought.

On the other end, you can hear Lewis pause, his confusion evident as he watches the ceiling of your living room on the screen. “Wait, what? Did I just hear that right?” he mumbles, his voice soft but tinged with concern.

You continue, not responding to him, staying in character, “It’s just been really hard lately. Like, I know he cares about me, but it feels like we’re growing apart, you know?” You make your voice sound vulnerable, as if you’re spilling your deepest thoughts to this imaginary friend.

Lewis sits up straighter, his face showing a mix of confusion and worry now. He leans toward the screen, trying to get your attention. “Babe? What’s going on? Who are you talking to?” His voice is still calm, but there’s a note of urgency creeping in.

You keep the fake conversation going, pushing it a little further. “I mean, I love him, but sometimes love isn’t enough. We’re just in different places, and I don’t know if we’re going to make it.”

Your boyfriend’s eyes widen and he rubs a hand over his face, his composure starting to slip as the weight of your words sinks in. “Wait, hold on, what are you talking about? You don’t think we’re gonna make it? Babe, what’s happening?” His voice is louder now, more strained, and you can see the confusion and hurt beginning to cloud his expression.

You almost put a stop to your prank right there, but you decide to push through. So, you ignore him, still talking to your imaginary friend, “I’ve been thinking about ending things for a while, but it’s just so hard. He’s so sweet, and I don’t want to hurt him, but I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine.”

Lewis blinks, and you can see him processing your words, his heart clearly sinking. His mouth opens slightly, but he’s struggling to find the right thing to say. “No, no, this can’t be real,” he whispers to himself, shaking his head. 

You glance at the screen briefly, seeing the growing panic in his eyes, but you push the prank a bit further. “Yeah, I’m going to talk to him soon. I just hope he understands.” You add a small, fake sigh. “I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t think we’re right for each other anymore.”

He lets out a shaky breath, his calm exterior cracking even more. “Babe, talk to me. What’s going on? Is this how you really feel?” He’s practically pleading now, his voice full of emotion. You can see the vulnerability in his eyes as he tries to make sense of everything.

Finally, unable to hold it together any longer, you burst out laughing and grab the phone. “Oh my god, Lewis, it’s a prank!”

For a moment, Lewis just stares at you, blinking in complete disbelief. Then, slowly, realisation dawns, and he lets out a long, exasperated sigh, slumping back in his chair. “No way… are you serious? You were just messing with me?”

You nod, still laughing. “Yeah, there’s no friend. I wasn’t talking about breaking up with you. I’m so sorry, my love!”

He rubs his face with both hands, trying to process everything. “Wow… okay, you really got me.” He exhales sharply, clearly relieved but still a bit shaken. “I thought I was about to lose you here. My heart was racing.”

“I’m sorry!” you say, giggling. “I didn’t mean to freak you out that much, I swear.”

He chuckles softly, though you can see the relief still lingering on his face. “You really had me going, babe. I didn’t know what to think.” He pauses, then looks at you with a mix of amusement and reproach. “I was ready to drop everything and come find you.”

You grin, feeling a little bad now that you can see how worried he really was. “I didn’t mean to push it that far! It was just supposed to be a little prank.”

Lewis shakes his head with a smile, the tension starting to fade. “Alright, alright. It’s all good. You got me. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook so easily.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s my punishment?”

He leans back, crossing his arms with a playful smirk. “I’m not sure yet, but I’m definitely getting you back for this. And trust me, when I do, you’ll never see it coming.” His eyes glint with mischief, though there’s still that hint of vulnerability lingering in his expression.

You laugh, still feeling a bit guilty for putting him through that emotional rollercoaster. “Fair enough, I’ll be ready for whatever you’ve got planned.”

He chuckles, his smile softening. “Just… no more pranks like that, alright? You really freaked me out.” His voice lowers, and you can tell he means it.

You nod, giving him an apologetic smile. “I promise, no more fake breakups.”

Lewis grins, though his eyes are still warm with lingering emotion. “Good. Because if we’re going to have a serious conversation, I’d rather it be in person.” He winks, his usual calm confidence starting to return.

“Deal,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes, relieved that he’s taking it so well.

He sighs dramatically, then chuckles. “You’re lucky I love you, babe. Because if anyone else tried that on me…” He trails off with a smirk, but you know he means it.

“I know, I know. You’re the best,” you tease, still smiling.

“Yeah, don’t forget it,” he says, his voice light, but you can tell he’s glad the whole thing was just a joke.

★ MAX VERSTAPPEN

Max’s phone buzzes with a FaceTime call, and he glances at the screen, seeing your name pop up. It’s unusual for you to call directly; you typically prefer texting or face-to-face conversations. So, he’s immediately curious about what might be urgent enough to warrant a call.

You place your phone face down on the couch and dial Max’s number. The phone rings a few times before he picks up, his face appearing on the screen. He’s clearly winding down after a long day, his hair slightly tousled and a relaxed look on his face.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asks casually. You can see he’s expecting a normal call.

Instead of responding, you start chatting as if you’re talking to someone else. “Yeah, it was great seeing you tonight. I didn’t expect to have such a good time.” You add a flirty tone to your voice, trying to sound casual.

At first, Max stays silent, his expression shifting from relaxed to puzzled. After a moment, his eyes narrow, and he leans closer to the screen. “Who are you talking to?” His voice is direct, with a calm demeanour that contrasts the intensity in his eyes.

You continue with the prank, keeping up the pretence. “I know, right? It’s been so long since we’ve had a chance to hang out like this.” You give a small, playful laugh.

Max’s face tightens slightly, and he sits up straight, clearly not pleased. “Seriously, who is that? Who are you talking to?” His tone is calm but authoritative.

“I’m glad we could hang out,” you say softly, using the same voice you use when you want to sweeten Max. It’s a tone reserved only for him, and that only makes him more frustrated.

He watches you intently, his patience wearing thin. “I’m not playing games. Are you going to tell me who this is or not?” 

You can see his frustration building as he waits for a response. When you don’t immediately answer, he makes a decisive move. “You know what? I’m ending this call.” He starts to hang up, but then pauses, his eyes narrowing even more. “Actually, I’m coming over. I want to see who you’re talking to.”

Before you can react, he’s already starting to disconnect. Realising the prank might be escalating, you quickly grab the phone and try to calm him down. “Wait, Max, it’s a joke! I was just messing with you!”

Max freezes mid-disconnect, his eyes widening with a mix of relief and disbelief. He straightens up, a sarcastic grin spreading across his face. “Oh, a joke? Perfect timing. I was just about to come over and give your ‘mystery guy’ a piece of my mind. You know, because clearly, he needed a crash course on what it means to mess with my girlfriend.”

You burst out laughing, trying to explain yourself. “I’m really sorry, Max. I didn’t think it would get this intense.”

He rolls his eyes dramatically, still grinning. “Yeah, because nothing says ‘I’m just kidding’ like a full-blown emotional crisis. I’m sure your ‘mystery guy’ would’ve been thrilled to meet the real Max Verstappen, all dressed up for a confrontation.”

You giggle, feeling a bit sheepish. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far. I just thought it would be a harmless prank.”

Max raises an eyebrow, his sarcasm in full swing. “Oh, of course, harmless. I mean, who needs peace of mind when you’ve got surprise pranks, right?”

You laugh, trying to diffuse the situation. “Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll make sure to keep my pranks a bit less intense next time.”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Unless you want me to come over and give you a live demonstration of what happens when you prank a racing driver. Spoiler alert: It involves a lot of very fast revenge.”

“Noted,” you say with a grin. “I promise, no more surprise drama.”

Max chuckles, his sarcasm giving way to genuine amusement. “Good. Because I was about to start practising my ‘disappointed boyfriend’ speech. And trust me, it’s a work of art.”

You laugh again, feeling relieved that he’s taking it well. “I’ll avoid any more pranks that might warrant a speech.”

“Perfect. Now, let’s talk about something less dramatic— like how you’re going to make it up to me. And I don’t mean another prank.”

You laugh, ready to move on from the prank. “I’ve got just the thing. No more surprises, I promise.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Good. And remember, I’m always keeping an eye out for any more ‘mysterious’ calls.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say with a laugh. 

★ OSCAR PIASTRI

You’re feeling cheeky and decide to pull a prank on your boyfriend by pretending to butt dial him. You carefully set up your phone, ensuring it calls Oscar automatically. You place the phone on a table and begin your act, speaking loudly enough for him to hear clearly through the call. 

You make sure to put on a show, talking loudly enough that Oscar will definitely hear it. As soon as he picks up, you begin your “conversation.”

“Oh hey! So glad you called,” you start, making your voice bright and cheerful as if you’ve been waiting for this call. “I just have to tell you, last night was absolutely amazing!”

Oscar, on the other end of the call, answers with his usual calm demeanour. He sees your name on the screen and answers with a mix of curiosity and amusement. His face remains composed, but you can sense him starting to analyse the situation. He listens intently, trying to figure out what’s happening.

“I’m so glad we got to hang out. It’s not every day you meet someone who can keep me laughing like that,” you say, your tone warm and engaging. You emphasise the casual nature of the conversation, hoping to make your boyfriend think it’s a genuine chat.

Oscar’s gaze is fixed on the screen, his eyes narrowing slightly as he listens. He remains eerily quiet, giving you the sense that he’s deep in thought, piecing together the details of your conversation. His face is a mask of calm curiosity, but there’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

“Absolutely, we need to do it again soon. How about dinner tomorrow? I’ll text you the details,” you continue, maintaining the pretence. You keep your tone light and breezy, almost as if the conversation is too engaging for you to notice his reaction.

Oscar’s smirk starts to form, his mind piecing together the clues. He leans back slightly in his chair, his composure unshaken. He’s clearly caught on to the prank, but he maintains his cool, waiting for the right moment to reveal his awareness.

“I hope you’re done with your other conversation,” he finally says, his voice smooth and collected. “We can talk later when you’re free from your… other commitments.” His calm tone and subtle smirk indicate he’s caught on, but he’s letting you have your fun for now.

You immediatly start laughing, realising that Oscar has seen right through your prank. “I didn’t expect you to catch on so quickly!”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying the reveal. “I had a feeling something was off, your conversation was a bit too perfect.” He gives you a playful wink. “Nice try, though. I have to admit, you had me intrigued for a moment there.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you say, still grinning. “I was hoping to give you a little challenge.”

He leans back in his chair, his smile broadening. “Challenge accepted. You managed to get a rise out of me, which is no easy feat. But now that I’m in on the joke, I’m planning my own comeback.” His tone is light-hearted but filled with a hint of mischief.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you say, still grinning. “I was hoping to give you a little challenge.”

His smirk widens into a charming grin. “Challenge accepted,” he replies, his eyes twinkling with playful mischief. “But since you managed to prank me, I think it’s only fair that I get to return the favour.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his confident tone. “Oh, really? And what do you have in mind for your comeback?”

Oscar leans in a bit closer, his gaze softening. “Let’s just say that next time we talk, I might have a surprise of my own for you. Something that’ll make your heart race in a way that’s far more thrilling than any prank.” He gives you a knowing look, his voice lowering to a teasing whisper. “I’m all about keeping things exciting.”

Your heart flutters at the flirtatious undertone in his voice. “Is that so? I’ll have to be extra vigilant then. I wouldn’t want you to catch me off guard again.”

His eyes sparkle with affection. “Oh, don’t worry. I love a good challenge, especially when it means I get to see that beautiful smile of yours when you’re surprised.” 

You blush a little at his words, “I might have to prank you every day if I get you this sweet after.”

“I’m alway sweet,” he teases, laughing at your flusteredness.

“Yeah, you are.”

“Anyway, are you getting home later today?” You ask, hoping to see your boyfriend after weeks of him being away.

“Yes, I’m aching to see you,” he confesses, smiling at you.

“Me too.” 

“See you then, my little prankster,” Oscar says with a laugh.

You roll your eyes at the nickname but you’re endeared by it all the same. “See you soon.”

[naburi]

DO YOU THINK I’M PRETTY?

MOMO X READER

TAGS: NTR, GANGBANG, DOUBLE PENETRATION, MOUTHFUCK, CREAMPIE, REVENGE SEX

1.6K WORDS

You heard men laughing in the background, they can’t comprehend what is happening right before their eyes. It was 6 cocks surrounding a kneeling girl who's still in her school uniform. The video shows your childhood friend trying to put two cocks in her mouth.

It’s a slow afternoon in the campus, the professor's voice can’t find its way into your ear as you seem too deep in your thoughts. You want to have a conversation with her to know how she let that happen. Momo is your childhood friend, you grew up together and you know she’s not that type of person. How can the innocent and naive girl, who easily gets scared over the smallest of things let herself get used like a fuckdoll by the varsity team.

One of the varsity players in the video is your classmate, he boastingly shows you the video of them doing it with Momo. He said they invited Momo to a late night celebration as they won over a rival division. He said the girl knew that it was all men there but still decided to hang out. You wanted to ask for more details but your classmates easily got irritated and jokingly said that you should see how she’s begging them to not stop filling her holes. It made you angry how he brags about it but it also made you feel jealous, if it wasn’t for your shyness, you could have confessed your feelings to your childhood friend.

You decided to message her later in the night, you wanted to make sure that she’s okay. You’re in limbo if you should open up about the video you saw but you’re afraid to make her uncomfortable.

“He cheated with my classmate,” Momo said in the text message. The star player of the varsity team breaks her heart. This is her first relationship and first heartbreak, you can’t imagine how hurt she must have felt.

“Can I visit you tomorrow?” You asked, you wanted to comfort her, it’s been a long time since you spent time with one another. She has been distant to you ever since she got a boyfriend.

You’re infront of her apartment waiting for her to open the door, you are bringing canned beers and some snacks just like she requested. Momo welcomes you with her “just woke up” face. She’s wearing a tight crop top which gives you a better look of her nipples as she’s not wearing anything underneath, her exposed skinny waist which looks like she hasn't eaten anything good for a while, and her loose shorts that’s hanging too low in her small waist. This look of her made you feel hot the seconds you saw her.

You made fun of how she probably hasn't taken a bath for a few days which she loudly denies those allegations, you keep exchanging insults and banters like how it was when you were younger. Sitting comfortably in her living area, Momo opens the canned bears as the conversation gets serious. She’s tearing up while explaining how she found her boyfriend cheated on her. They have been together for a few months and she admitted that she gives her virginity to him because he threatens to break up with her.

“I watched a video of my boyfriend getting his dick sucked by my classma…,” she can’t finish her sentence as she’s still hurt by what he found on her ex’s phone.

Momo stated that she wants to hit back at her ex by “dating” one of his teammates, not telling her that you know what really happened, how you watched a video of the 6 teammates taking turns putting their dick on her destroyed tight pussy. Momo is laying on her back in a small dining table, lifted skirt, exposed boobs through her opened up uniform, masturbating dicks on both her hands, her tongue giving two dicks equal attention, one member pumping his dick inside her while the other member is making sure that all of this are getting recorded.

She asked to cheer bottles before you both drank the beer. She goes on to share how terrible her boyfriend is while your mind is playing the part of the video where the girl in front of you is getting her mouth stuffed by a thick cock while his pussy getting rammed at the same time. The boys in the background loudly cheer about the erotic scene they are witnessing. Some of them are getting their hands through her tight body feeling up all of her softness. Some slaps and grope her boobs while it’s aggressively moving due to the pounding she’s taking in both directions. The video closed up on her drooling mouth while she’s still getting mouthfucked, then it pans out to her crempied pussy while it’s still getting pounded hard.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” The more she drinks, the more Momo opens up to you. You were stunned by her sudden questions, you remember the times that you almost confessed to her but pulled back at the last second.

“I like you,” you said softly, maybe it’s the alcohol but you finally found courage to confess to her. You're looking at her in the eyes hoping for an answer.

“Kiss me,” Momo said with a straight face. She doesn’t have the same feelings for you but the fact that one person likes her is enough for her.

Your body moves first before you can comprehend what’s happening. You started to kiss her aggressively knowing you waited for this for a long time. Your hands sink down as you grope her boobs, wanting more, you pull up her crop top. You pinch and pull her hard nipples which made Momo moan. You made her lay down on her sofa while kissing hard on her neck making sure she will go to school with the hickeys you made.

You remember how the 6 boys left kiss bruises all over her body, not wanting to get out done, from her neck to her tits, you made sure to leave as many hickeys as they left.

Momo felt hot the way you hungrily kissed her body. She guides your head to her shorts. You notice the wet spot forming in her shorts, you pull down to see how wet she is. This is the same pussy that gets rammed by the players. Blinded by anger, you put two fingers quickly inside her. Momo gasped by your sudden movement, she starts to moan loudly as you ram your fingers directly into her g-spot. She has no idea that this aggressiveness stems from pain you felt after watching her get gangbanged.

“FUCK ME PLEASE” she shouted out with her orgasm.

You wasted no time, you aligned your cock in her entrance. Looking at her in the eyes, she have the same look back when they are taking turns fucking her. She’s looking at you like she’s pleading to get her pussy pounded hard, which you’re more than happy to give. You hold her small waist to fuck her hard from the get go. You wanted to fuck her more aggressive than they did to her, you pound your dick inside out to her like you want her pussy to only remembers your cock.

Momo can only moan with her eyes closed as she’s getting overwhelmed by the pleasure your dick is giving. She remembers the time that she caught you staring at her body but doesn’t confront you with it to retain your friendship, she never thought you could fuck her as hard as your doing right now.

You put her thick legs over your shoulder to get deeper inside her, this made Momo intensely moan, you go deeper each thrust making sure you feel all of her inside. You felt her inside walls tighten, signaling she’s near orgasm again. Your thrusts get harder as you're about to cum as well. She asked you to pull out but you remember how all of the boys creampie on her, felt insulted by her suggestions, you fucked her pussy rapidly making both of you orgasm in unison.

You pulled out and watched how your cum, drip out of her. She moves her body to the side like she’s about to sleep which you didn’t let her. You move her head hanging over the sofa just her position in the video. Momo is trying to protest but you are hellbent on destroying her holes more than they did to her. You shove your stiff cock in her mouth, you see the form of your cock down her throat. The girl is mumbling, trying to say something but you pull your cock just to hardly put it back down her throat. You hold her head in position as you continue your rampage against her mouth.

You saw her mouth drool just like it did in the video, which pushed you even more to pump her mouth longer. You notice that she’s stopped mumbling which makes you worry that you go too far. You pulled out your cock but kept slapping your wet dick to her face reminding her that you’re not with her. Momo gasped for air but it didn’t take long before you put it back inside her throat to continue using her mouth. The girl is moving her tongue around your cock while it’s inside her mouth to give you more pleasure, accepting her faith that she's your fuckdoll now. This added pleasure made your cock twitch. You groan Momo’s name as you leave out a huge load deep down her throat. Untidy hair, teary eyes, cum drooling out her mouth. You made Momo a mess.

[masonmtxo]

Insatiable

Summary: Y/N teasing Mason relentlessly while his barber does his hair

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: this is sorta filthy without there being any actual smut?

Note: this is a result of my brain going into meltdown when the picture of Mase with a marked neck from the barbers gown was posted 🫣 please please leave feedback, it really means the world 🩷

•••

Mason groaned loudly in your ear as he released into you, instantly dropping his head into the crook of your neck, the weight of his body pressing you even deeper into the mattress as he relaxed into you. You giggled softly, gently raking your fingers through his hair as he came down from his orgasm that had him near enough trembling against you. He had been so pent up, the post orgasm come down had hit him hard so you gave him a moment, knowing full well he wouldn't form a coherent sentence for several minutes after the event.

Once his breathing had finally slowed you gently tugged on his locks, encouraging him to lift his head and look at you, needing to see his face after the intensity of what you had just done, "you okay?”

He nodded, eyes still bleary, lips red and swollen, a pretty grin adorning them at the sight of your equally as flushed face, "yeah, just needed a minute."

You smirked at him, loving the way you could work him into such a state of sexual bliss he was rendered speechless. He had been away for a few nights with the team for a match in Italy, making him extra needy for you when he stepped through the front door. You hadn't even made it upstairs before you had him whining for you, on your knees taking your time to swallow him down your throat until he came. Your escapades had continued throughout the house, ending with him pounding into you on your shared bed after giving each other multiple orgasms throughout the early afternoon.

You checked the clock on the nightstand beside you, eyes bulging at the sight, "fuck Mase, it's nearly half 4 already!"

He didn't lift his head from where he had burrowing back into you, letting out a short laugh, "Jesus, I got home at 1."

"Nearly 3 and a half hours, that ridiculous," you couldn't help but chuckle with him, "think that's a new record."

His head lifted from your chest so he could look at you, the sight of his disheveled hair making your heart jump with love for him, knowing nobody else got to see him this way.

"Dunno, I reckon when I got back from the world cup we must have been going at it for longer,” his smirk made you twitch, instantly floating back to the night you shared after being separated for weeks. He had been relentless, his head between your legs bring you to more consecutive orgasms than you thought was humanly possible, before fucking into your overstimulated body for multiple rounds that had you screaming.

You both fell silent, enjoying the peacefulness of just being with each other, your bodies aching in the most perfect way. You couldn't help but stare at his soft features, heart expanding with even more love that you thought possible as you admired his pretty face, wanting more than anything to kiss over the freckles dotted across his flushed cheeks but you stopped yourself, not wanting to disturb him as his eyes fluttered shut again, feeling your eyes closed and head lull back as you joined him for a late afternoon snooze.

The sound of your doorbell had you both jumping upright in an instant, Mason exclaiming a loud "shit!" Before springing up out of bed and grabbing the black gym shorts he had thrown to the ground an hour earlier in his haste to get you into bed.

You couldn't help but giggle as you watched him hopping to the door, naked arse on show as he scrambled to get the shorts up his legs, still not fully situated on his hips when he darted out the bedroom door.

He was gone in a flash, no further explanation as to who was at your door but you figured you may as well follow, curiosity getting the better of you, pulling on Mason's large t-shirt.

It wasn't until you were midway down the staircase that you noticed it, too late to say anything as Mason had already pulled the door open, his barber, Adam, standing on the other side of the threshold. Your eyes fixed on his muscled back, long red scratches littering the expanse of it. They weren't deep by any means, caused only by your fingernails in desperation to grab hold of him in any way you could.

Though the worst marks were left across the back of his neck, inches above the tattoo you loved to trace over with your lips when you cuddled him from behind, caused by what you could only presume was the chain of his necklace that you had pulled tight around his neck as he fucked into you. The angry red indents stood out against the soft, pale skin of his neck, making you cringe as they were far from unnoticeable.

You winced as he turned to guide Adam into the house, watching as his eyes landed on the recognisable marks on Mason's back, causing his lips to twitch into a slight smirk. In a moment of horror, you felt his eyes flick to yours, noticing the way you stood frozen on the staircase in only a T-shirt, cheeks burning as you had unmistakably been caught red handed.

Offering a quick wave, you spun on the spot and ran back up the stairs, extremely conscious of the fact you hadn't cleaned yourself up yet and could still feel Mason's cum between your thighs.

You let out another squeak of horror as you slipped into the bathroom and caught sight of your appearance in the mirror, kicking yourself for even following him out the room when you weren't even remotely presentable for anyone at the door. Everything about your reflection screamed 'I've just been relentlessly fucked for the past few hours’ making yourself cringe more than you already were.

After cleaning yourself up, you quickly stripped your bed of the sweaty, stained bedsheets, the smell of sex in your bedroom slowly disappearing as the candle you lit began to burn.

Grabbing a hoodie of Mason's and a pair of knickers, you made yourself at least decent, attempting to tame your hair with a brush. You were observing your reflection in the mirror when you heard the bedroom door open, your shirtless boyfriend appearing in the doorway.

"Baby, what the fuck have you done to my back," he smirked, spinning so you could have a clear view, "I just clocked it in the mirror as I was coming upstairs."

"Oopsy?" You offered, shrugging at him with a cheeky grin, knowing full well he loved it when you marked him up in bed, loving it when you were so desperate for him you would frantically scrape at his back and bite down on his shoulder.

"I'm guessing Adam's already noticed," he laughed as he made his way towards you, wrapping his arms around your neck and pecking your cheek affectionately.

You stood up from your dressing table and cuddled into him, nodding into his neck, "judging by the look on his face when he followed you in, he's well aware of what we just got up to."

Mason couldn't help but let out another laugh, unbothered by the fact his barber had just caught him post-fuck, he was never ashamed of anyone knowing what the pair of you get up to when your alone, bar his parents. Poor Woody had been victim to your antics on multiple occasions when he stayed over. You learnt early on in your relationship that Mason had no shame when it came to sex, and for the most part, neither did you, the teasing in the kitchen from his best mate the next day about your noise levels never bothering you. But something about his barber knowing made you cringe internally.

"Why are you up here anyway?"

He gestured down to his crotch, his half hard dick prominent in his tight shorts which did nothing to cover up what he was packing, "I need to put some boxers on before I give Adam another eyeful."

You watched as he stepped away and pulled the shorts down, eyes not moving away from his naked body as he stood completely exposed. He smirked down at you, enjoying the way you reacted to the sight, pulling you back up against his body, "you're insatiable, been fucking you silly for hours and you're still dribbling at the sight of my cock."

"You did that on purpose to work me up," you whined, closing the gap between you again, hand skimming down his chest in an attempt to grab at his length, but he stopped you, holding you wrist in his and stopping it from traveling any further.

"Behave," the firmness of his voice made you shiver in anticipation, "and once he's gone I might give you what you want."

He raised his eyebrows at you as you whined, pouted lips and screwed up nose making him smirk in amusement at how bratty you could be when you weren't getting what you wanted. He stepped away and around your body, grabbing a pair of boxers from his draw before slipping them up his narrow hips.

He turned to see you still boggling at his exposed body, eyes hazed over, "can you stop staring at me like a piece of meat and give me my shorts," he teased, gesturing the material on the floor by your feet.

Reluctantly, you picked them from the floor and tossed them towards him, sticking your tongue out childishly as he smirked.

Mason pulled up his shorts slowly, hand dipping into the waistband to 'adjust' himself in a way you know was purposefully to wind you up even more, “come down with me?," he asked sweetly, a complete 180 from the teasing tone he had taken on before, "I want to go shorter but need your opinion."

"Fine, let me just grab some joggers," you turned to walk away, stopping when you felt his hand grab hold of your hip.

He smirked, "don't bother, he's already seen you without, and I like the view."

Rolling your eyes, you allowed him to take your hand in his, reluctantly following him downstairs.

You weren't stupid, he never usually consulted you for haircuts, you knew he wanted to watch you squirm in front of Adam, sensing your embarrassment at the situation a mile off. But you refused to let him get to you, determined to make him as flustered as he was attempting to make you.

Adam had already set his kit up along the kitchen island, pulling a chair out from under the counter when you walked in, throwing you a polite smile when he noticed Mason had you in tow.

Situating yourself on the sofa across the room as you watched your boyfriend discuss the style he wanted, you couldn't help but admire his side profile, quickly turning away when he caught you staring, a smirk pulling across his pretty lips. You knew this game was fruitless, his ability to get you flustered with just a look was enough to make you hand him the win. But you were determined to at least make him squirm a bit.

The TV was already switched on the sport channel, some form of golf competition showing on the screen. You didn't bother looking for the remote to change it, knowing you wouldn't pay attention to whatever you flicked onto.

You pretended to be disinterested in the men's presence, not joining in their chit chat as Adam got to work. Eyes following the screen, but mind running wild of how Mason would look dressed in some of the outfits worn by the professional golfers, seeing a particularly cute jumper you thought you'd buy for him before he next went golfing with his mates.

"Don't I know it mate, y/n is a nightmare." Your ears pricked at the sound of your name, brows creasing at Mason's choice of words, your head twisting to glare at him. You knew it was intentional the second you caught the teasing look in his eye, he had wanted to pull your focus back onto him.

Refusing to back down, you bit back, "and how am I a nightmare, do tell Mase?”

"Adam was just saying how his missus made them half an hour late to dinner last night, I was saying you're the same," he responded, "takes you about 10 years to settle on an outfit."

"Not sure about that Mason, since I don't even remember the last time you took me out for dinner," you knew it was a low blow and not even remotely true, he had wined and dined you not even a week ago, before he had gone away.

But he picked up on your challenge, instantly clocking on to your attempt to bait him, "don't be such a spoilt brat baby, l'm a busy man."

"Yeah, too busy for me apparently," you whined, spotting the remote sitting on the other side of the sofa, the clogs in your brain spinning as you thought of a way to rile him up further.

Watching out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Adam move to his front, focusing on scissoring through Mason's quiff. Taking the opportunity, you quickly cleared your throat to make sure you had his attention before getting onto your knees and stretching across the seat for the remote, arse stuck in the air. Glancing over your shoulder you noticed your boyfriend's expression drop, the teasing look from before now long gone, replaced by what you can only describe as panic.

You couldn't help but giggle quietly, giving your arse a quick wiggle as you purposely pulled the jumper over your hips to give him an even more explicit view, a lacy red thong the only thing stopping you from being entirely on display.

Not wanting to get caught, you quickly sat back on your heels, grabbing the remote before looking back over, Mason’s eyes still fixated on your every move. Adam was still messing around with his fringe, combing it and tidying it up repeatedly.

You werent sure what came over you, but you quickly dropping back onto your elbows with your back arched, forcing you bum are far out as you could and gyrating your hips in the air the way you do when you are silently begging him to hurry up and fuck you from behind.

His sharp intake of breath had you tensing, hoping Adam wouldn't catch on to the tension building in the room, but you breathed out when you heard him start humming, too focused on his job to pay you any mind.

With one final moment of bravery, this teasing side of you not one that came out often, you found your hand trailing up your body, firmly grabbing over your bum to grope it in a way you knew Mason would be itching to in that moment. And without a second thought, you grab onto your panties, quickly yanking them to the side and giving Mason a clear view of your dripping pussy.

“Enough.” He spat, making you drop back to the sofa instantly with a gleeful giggle, Adam stopping what he was doing and giving Mason a puzzled look.

“Sorry mate, I dunno why it came out like that,” Mason rushed out as he realised his barber assumed he was talking to him, none the wiser to your antics, “I just think that’s probably enough length off the top.”

Adam laughed lightly, still visibly confused but feeding into Mason’s cover, “no problem bro, I’ll just tidy up your beard then you’ll be done. Want it like usual?”

“Yes, ple…”

You cut him off, leaning on the arm of the sofa, jumper now covering your decency, “don’t take any length off, just tidy it up.”

Adam turned back to Mason with a questioning look, your boyfriend watching as you smiled at him sweetly.

“You happy with that Mase?”

“Yeah bro, whatever the missus wants I guess,” he shrugged, knowing you loved him with longer facial hair and wanting Adam out the door as quickly as possible.

Sitting back on the sofa as Adam started asking about his plans for the summer once the season was over, you grabbed the remote to pass the time until he was finally done.

•••

"All finished mate," you heard Adam say at last, glancing over to see him unclipping the cloak from Mason's neck, not missing the way his lips curved into a small smirk as the evidence of your antics on his neck was uncovered. The harsh red marks looking even more prominent than before.

"I won't take a picture to post on socials this time... you know..because of…” Adam gestures to his neck, Mason's face dropping into a smirk as he clocked onto what his barber meant.

"Yeah sorry about that mate, she gets a bit carried away sometimes," he chuckles, both sets of their eyes darting to you as you continued to flick through the channels, pretending to ignore their conversation to save you any further embarrassment.

You stayed put as Adam quickly cleared his equipment, making small talk with Mason about the upcoming match before throwing a quick bye to you and heading to the door, Mason in tow to see him out.

"Cheers bro, see you in a few weeks." Mason's voice was followed by what sounded like claps on the back as they embraced, the door finally clicking shut as silence fell through the house and your stomach clenched with anticipation.

You heard his feet quickly making their way back to you in the lounge, his voice sharp but you knew he wasn't actually annoyed, frustrated and horny, but not annoyed, "you're a little shit, you know that right?"

“What did I do?” You smiled coyly, reaching for him as he made his way over to you. He dropped himself over your body, hoisting your legs around his waist as he pressed his hard crotch into yours, absentmindedly beginning to thrust his hips against you.

“You know exactly what you did, my dick popped up so fucking quick I dunno how Adam didn’t spot it,” he laughed inbetween lazy kisses against you mouth.

You couldn't help but blush, shocked at your own actions, but secretly happy to have gotten him so worked up he seemingly was ready to go for another round without much convincing. “He probably did, just didn't want to mention you getting hard at the sight of him doing your hair,” you teased with a bubble of laughter at his misfortune.

Mason rolled his eyes, burying his face in your neck, “little did he know my brat of a girlfriend was humping the air and flashing me behind him.”

Pulling him up for another kiss, you both smiled into eachothers mouths, messily making out like teenagers.

“C’mon, let’s go upstairs,” he whispered, lips trailing down your neck in a way that had goosebumps prickling across your skin.

"There's no sheets on the bed, they were filthy after this afternoon's session,” you moaned, pulling at his hair.

"Right here on the sofa it is then,” he smirked.

[xoxoladyaz]

It Hits Different This Time, Part 2

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rock Star Eddie x Steve Harrington

TW: Mentions of alcohol, drug abuse

QUICK AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry that the last entry was so angst heavy, I promise this one provides some comfort! Eddie needed to take a big step here and he really, really does. Also, much love to everyone who commented, I've tagged you at the bottom of the post - let me know if anyone else would like to be notified of the next entry!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

It was another five days before Steve heard from Eddie. Another five torturous days of radio silence, only this time, there wasn’t anything online. No new articles were popping up saying he’d been spotted somewhere, no new TikToks of him meeting fans on the street. The rest of the band was MIA too; Steve had thought about sending Jeff a text to check-in but ultimately decided to wait another couple days. Robin had been texting with Chrissy, after all, and if something bad had gone down, she would know.

When Eddie did finally call, it wasn’t from a number that Steve recognized.

“I’m getting a call from Malibu.”

“Holy shit!” Robin sat up on the other end of the couch and shot him a look. “Okay, just breathe dingus, okay? It’s going to be okay, I’ll be here the whole time.” She squeezed his ankle comfortingly. “You can do this.”

Steve accepted the call with shaky hands and brought his phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey Steve.”

He shut his eyes and swallowed, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “Eddie.”

He heard Eddie let out a watery laugh across the line. “Do you, uh, have a minute?”

“Mmmm hmmm,” Steve hummed. He physically couldn’t get an actual word out. 

This was it. Eddie was leaving, he’d cheated, it was over – 

“I’m in rehab.”

Steve’s eyes shot open. “You’re what?”

Robin started rocking back and forth. “Turn it up!” She hissed, and Steve obliged, turning up his volume so she could just barely hear what was being said. (Was this a private conversation? Yes. Did Eddie know he’d probably immediately tell Robin everything? Also yes. 

Was this news big enough to warrant having Robin eavesdrop?

Absolutely yes.)

“Yeah, I’m, uh, at the Promises Treatment Center in Malibu,” Eddie continued. “We got back about five days ago and when I saw your note, I – 

“Look, Steve,” Eddie continued, and his voice was choked up, like he himself couldn’t speak, “I fucked up. I’ve fucked everything up. You are – you said in that note that you didn’t want me to give up on my dreams, and you’re right, making it big and getting famous for my music was my dream for literal years. Because I kept thinking “once I get a record out there,” “once I go on tour,” “once I win a Grammy,” “once I get a million dollars,” then I’d finally be happy. 

“But it turns out the only thing being famous has done is make me pretty fucking miserable,” Eddie let out a harsh laugh. “But I was so goddamn convinced that this was it, you know, that I’d accomplished my dreams so I must be happy that I started taking whatever I could get my fucking hands on to make me feel that way. The thing is drugs and the alcohol and the parties never made it fucking last. It just made every other second that I was in the public eye that much worse.

“But I’d still made it, you know? I felt like I didn’t deserve to feel this fucking miserable. And everyone back home was so fucking proud and I didn’t want to let them down - ” Eddie paused for a few moments to clear his throat before continuing. “I didn’t want to let you down. Because Eddie “The Freak” Munson didn’t deserve you, but maybe Eddie “The Rock Star” could.”

Steve can feel his own throat closing up and he can barely see Robin’s face, his eyes are watering that bad. “Baby,” he sobbed. “I wish you’d told me.”

“Me too,” Eddie sniffled across the line. “I didn’t though, I just kept self-medicating and ignoring it, because that’s always worked,” he huffed sarcastically. “But then - ” Eddie cut off again, and Steve can hear that he’s trying so hard to hold back his own sobs, “then I came home last week and realized that I’d missed our goddamn anniversary because I was too fucking high and that you were gone and I just – I called Jeff and I told him to get me on a plane out here because you – you, Steve Harrington, you are the best thing in my goddamn life. And the only dream I want to chase now is the one where we get married and adopt some kids and grow old together.”

“Eddie,” Steve sobbed out again, and he heard Eddie start to cry too, and then suddenly they were crying together, even from hundreds of miles away.

“So I’m gonna be here for the next six weeks,” Eddie finally continued, his voice still full of tears. “I’m, uh, meeting with a therapist for a few hours every day and working through my shit. I wanna be a guy who deserves good things, baby. I wanna be a guy who deserves you.”

“What – what about the band?” Steve sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. A handful of Kleenex appeared in front of him. Robin must have gotten up to grab them at some point. He shot her a thankful nod and patted at his eyes; Robin nodded back and did the same, her face flushed that bright shade of red that accompanied her own tears.

“Murray wrote a provision into our contract where if one of us checks into rehab, then the band is instantly put on a two-year, non-negotiable hiatus.”

“But – what about your momentum, the label kept talking about it?”

“The label can go fuck themselves” Eddie practically growled over the phone. “Who do you think hosted the party where I first got my hands on the hardcore stuff anyways?”

“Babe - ”

“Murray said he was going to look into some sort of contract termination so we can sign somewhere else. And even if we didn’t have that thing written into our contract, we probably would have gone on hiatus anyways, or worse. That – the last leg was rough. Gareth was just as fucked up as I was and Jeff was fucking pissed. He kept having to pull Gareth out of orgies and shit while babysitting Phil and I too.”

“Did,” Steve swallowed harshly, “did - ”

“No, baby, never,” Eddie declared quickly. “Even when I couldn’t fucking see straight, you were the only one I wanted to be with. I honestly don’t even know who we were partying with at the end there, the label sent them for some PR shit, I don’t know. It’s just another reason why we want out.”

“Oh,” Steve murmured, “okay. Good. Or, well, not good. You know.”

“Yeah, baby, I do,” Eddie replied softly. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, just listening to each other breathe. “I, uh,” Eddie started up again quietly, “I’m wearing the ring.”

“Yeah?” Steve found himself smiling despite the fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Eddie’s voice was just as choked up as before. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Eddie - ”

“Look, I know, I know I hurt you so, so badly and I’m never going to fucking forgive myself for what I did, but I – you’re everything I want, baby. If I had to give up Corroded Coffin tomorrow for you, I would do it in a heartbeat. And I – I know I can’t expect for you to just, like, forgive me after the shit I pulled, but – will you be there, when I get out? Can I – I want to come home to you,” Eddie finished, and Steve could hear that he was crying again.

Steve looked over at Robin, who was wiping more tears out of her own eyes. They looked at each other for a few moments.

It might be crazy, but I think I want to say yes.

I don't blame you. I mean, this is one hell of an apology, especially from Mr. “I’ll Never Need to Go to Rehab Ever.”

Yeah. And I love him.

And you love him.

“I’ll be there,” Steve murmured reassuringly, and Eddie burst into a new wave of muffled sobs on the other end of the phone. “Just do what you need to do and come home when you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting for home.”

“At home?” Eddie’s voice broke on a whimper.

“At home. I’ll even clean the bathrooms and everything,” Steve joked, and Eddie let out a loud laugh despite the quiet sobs Steve could still hear. 

“Really? You’ll be there?”

“Yeah, Eddie. I’ll be there. We can get through this.”

“Together.”

“Together. Because I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.”

“Fuck, Stevie,” Eddie let out an incredulous laugh again, “I love you so fucking much, baby. I’m going to marry the fuck out of you someday.”

“Save the sweet talk for when you get home, okay?” Steve could feel his heart settling in his chest, and whatever tears he’d had left to cry were all gone now. There was just the twinge of missing Eddie, but that would go away soon enough. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Eds.”

“Thanks, baby.” Eddie’s answer was soft now. “So I, uh, get a couple hours to call people every day from one of the site’s phones. Can I keep calling you?”

“Please,” Steve heard Eddie exhale in relief. “Every day sounds perfect.”

“Good, good. I’ll have to, uh, use some of my time to talk to Wayne, but the rest of it is yours, baby. And Gareth, Jeff threw him into a different center too. His check-in was much less voluntary though.”

“Shit,” Steve winced. “Is there anything Robin or I can do to help?”

“Take Jeff and Chrissy out to a nice dinner and use the Amex,” Eddie snorted, causing Steve to laugh.

“Consider it done.”

“Good." Steve heard the sound of another voice behind Eddie. Eddie replied something Steve couldn't understand, but it was in the affirmative. "Doc says my time is up for today. My, uh, talk with Wayne took up a lot of time,” Eddie returned, and his voice trembled as he spoke. “But I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll see you in six weeks.”

“Yes you will.” Steve shut his eyes and imagined Eddie was standing right in front of him. Eddie with his riotous curls and holey graphic tees and tight jeans. Eddie with his rings on his fingers, with Steve’s ring on his finger. Eddie, standing across from him and smiling at him with that twinkle in his eye that had first caught Steve’s attention all those years ago. 

“I love you, Eds.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Tags List: @gregre369 @starman-jpg @skoomy-doompy @thequeenrainacorn @sleepyboosstuff @strawberrykore @paintsplatteredandimperfect @amoris-no-smut-allowed @steve-the-hairrington @iknewyouweremuggle @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sunfloweringstories @loverkasp @hyperfixationgoddess @steddie-as-they-go @zerokrox-blog @messrs-weasley @thelittleclare @lovelyscot

[cannedapricot]

the deal. || ldh

in which you never wanted to ask your stupid neighbor for help in chasing your dream man - but desperate times call for desperate measures - even if that meant giving lee donghyuck the satisfaction of parking his car in your spot.

word count: 3.5k

genre, warnings: fluff at the end, smidge of angst, slice of life, neighbor!au, high school!au, one sided enemies to lovers, mistaking admiration for love, very romcom movie there's a kiss in the rain scene somewhere in here, mark lee is in the same grade as the 00s for plot purposes, underage drinking, profanities

bgm: hits different by taylor swift, can i call you tonight? by dayglow, disaster by conan gray, i like me better by lauv, kiss goodnight by i dont know how but they found me

a/n: i read better than the movies and the whole time i was thinking "you know who this trope would look good on? hyuck." and thus this was birthed. there's a another neighbor!au in my drafts but the brainrot has taken over i'm afraid.

A proud grin, the tinkling of his keys, an annoying strut. These were all the qualities Lee Donghyuck sported in this very moment as he climbs out of his car. Perfectly parallel parked in the spot outside your house.

If only you were rich. You'd run your stupid neighbor over in a heartbeat then pay the bail to get out of jail. Instead, you wear a scowl reserved especially for the boy, click your tongue, and park a good five minute walk away.

Technically, the parking spot was between your house and the Lees next door. But technically, the spot was 60% on your side, and 40% on theirs. So technically, shouldn't that spot be yours? Why was your shit head of a neighbor adamantly trying to feud with you?

The five minute walk, lovingly dubbed the "walk of shame" by both you and your sworn enemy, would be a lovely three minute walk home - if not for the Kims on the corner who loved starting conversations with whoever passed by. On a good day, you would get away with two minutes of conversation ("Oh sorry Mrs. Kim, I have an assignment I just must get to."). Other days? You weren't so lucky.

"Four minutes? I think that might be a new record." Donghyuck gloats, leaning against his car.

"You were timing me?" You glare at his casual demeanor, wondering how he could possibly be so insufferable.

"Well, I have to know what I'm up against."

You snort, passing by the boy waving his keys around like a trophy, making sure your middle finger was up and in sight.

"Jealousy is a disease, babe." He sings as you slam the door shut behind you.

He really was insufferable.

You should've known.

When you agreed to go to Liu Yangyang's party on the condition that someone drive you, you would've thought he would send someone like Jaemin or Jeno - the duo that always seemed to be the assigned sober drivers. Looking back, you were naïve.

You should've known he'd send your neighbor.

Thus, leads you to the present. Lee Donghyuck in your kitchen, chatting up your mother while you hurriedly try to find your jacket before said mother gets any more charmed by the kid next door.

Truth be told, you were close to not going to the party at all. But then you caught wind that he'd be there and it'd be silly not to grab hold of any chance you could have to impress him.

Donghyuck watches you move around out of the corner of his eye and when you started to move towards the door, he knew you were ready. But he'd spend extra long bidding your mom farewell, just so you'd wait a few minutes longer. He always liked keeping you waiting.

"I never took you for a house partier." Donghyuck comments when the two of you enter his car. "Stop checking yourself out in the mirror, you look the same as always."

You flip the sun visor back up with a scoff. What's wrong with making sure your hair was laying the way you wanted it?

"I never thought you'd agree to drive me to a house party."

"What can I say? I love giving back to the community."

It was a mystery to you how Donghyuck was so beloved around both the town and school. He was sarcastic, petty, and most importantly, constantly went against you. Perhaps everyone was blinded by his attractiveness? He did have a pretty face.

"I get that my face is attractive, but you don't have to look so hard. I think you're staring holes into my lovely cheek."

Correction, he had a pretty face when his mouth was shut.

It was loud, you could feel the bass pumping through your body. Drunk teenagers littered the floor of Yangyang's suburban house, bouncing to the beat and having the time of their lives. Swerving through the crowd of bodies, you picked up on bits of gossip you were sure you weren't supposed to hear. But by the end of the night, you were sure you would've forgotten about whatever scandal Shotaro from biology got into anyway.

Somehow still together, you and your neighbor find the host mixing unidentifiable liquids together in a red solo cup on the kitchen counter.

"Yang, is that poison or alcohol?"

"How dare you, it's called "a good time.""

He offers you the cup, which you turn down. You know how drunk Yangyang likes to get at his parties. Therefore, you know that one sip of whatever was in that cup could probably send you to ER. And you refused to go to ER without at least getting one glance of your dream man.

A quick scan of the room told you that he wasn't here, at least, not within your radius.

"No alcohol for me tonight. I have to drive this one back."

You raised an eyebrow as Donghyuck declines Yangyang's "special blend".

"How responsible." You tease.

"Only because you're here. I don't want you dying at my hands." He counters, leaning back and meeting your gaze, smirk on his lips. "How would I ever face your mother again?"

"Yo, Haechan, dude, you finally made it." A familiar voice sounds.

Enter, Mark Lee. Star athlete, every teacher's favorite student, adorably awkward, and your crush of two months. You swore he had this glow around him that made everything he does so endearing, even when he accidentally sent a basketball flying to your head once.

"Oh, hey Y/N. Didn't know you were coming as well."

"Yeah! I came with Donghyuck! Well, not with him but he was my ride here and will be my ride home so-"

You really had to do something about your nervous rambling in front of Mark.

Mark stayed for a small conversation with your little group before someone hurled on Yangyang's bathroom tiles, not making it to the toilet in time. The host (grumbling about how he just cleaned it yesterday) went to sort it out, your crush in tow.

You stare fondly at his back disappearing into the crowd before you feel a hot breath on your neck.

"No way. You like Mark Lee."

The car ride home was painful for you. Despite your attempts to bargain with him the whole party so he would shut up, the boy behind the wheel spends the whole ten minute drive teasing you like an elementary schooler instead. The song about kissing in a tree involved.

"What is it about him that you like?" Donghyuck asks, an amused glint in his eyes.

"Why? So you can hold it against me for the rest of my life?"

"Wow, I'm offended. Who do you take me for? I would never."

You raise an unbelieving eyebrow at him, only to be met by his side profile in the moonlight. The silver light beams against his features and you only just realize the constellation of stars on his cheek. The light at the intersection flashes red and the car smooths to a stop, Donghyuck turns to look at you, a small smile on his lips.

Shit, isn't this kind of intimate?

"Fuck off." You cough out, swiveling your head to look out the window instead. "Eyes on the road, Lee."

"I'm a Lee, but not the Lee you want." He exclaims, following it with an overly dramatic sob.

Keeping a steady stare out the window, you try to calm your reeling mind. Eyes on the prize, Y/N.

The prize being Mark Lee, of course.

Speaking of which.

"Donghyuck, you're friends with Mark right?"

"Depends. Are you going to ask me to help you get with him?"

You sit up in your seat and make your best possible attempt at puppy dog eyes, "please? I wouldn't ask if I didn't have a choice."

It was true, begging Donghyuck was the last thing you ever wanted to do. But you weren't getting anywhere by yourself and they were friends so surely that could help your case? At least he could tell you what type of person Mark liked? Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Your neighbor goes silent, presumably thinking about this suggestion. "What would I get in return though?"

Of course he wasn't just going to help you for nothing. So you rack your brains for something you'd be willing to exchange.

The car turns into your familiar neighborhood, passing Mrs Kim's house. And as the car pulls into the parking spot in front of your house, you spill out, "I'll give you the parking spot."

Donghyuck's eyebrows go up at this suggestion and his signature smirk makes it's way back onto his face. He leans his arm against the back of your seat and you instinctively lean back, fighting the urge to wipe that stupid grin off him.

"You're willing to take the "walk of shame" everyday for him?"

You click your tongue, "the parking space. Take it or leave it."

He leans back, mouth still curved up. The distance lets you release a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"You make a compelling argument."

"Well?"

"Deal."

You give him a nod, moving to exit the car and crawl back into the comfortable sheets of your bed, but Donghyuck's hand on your arm stops you. In confusion, you look back at him.

"I'm not fake dating you though."

"Hyuck, this isn't "To All the Boys I've Loved Before". I would rather die than fake date you."

The corners of his lips quirk up into a smile - not a smirk - at his nickname. "Hyuck?"

"I'm going home."

True to his word, for the next couple of weeks Donghyuck actively played a part in nudging you and Mark together. However, as much as he tried to create chances for you and your crush to be alone, your habit of nervous rambling when making conversation didn't help at all. It's not your fault Mark has the prettiest eyes you've ever seen. Though, somewhere in the back of your mind lingers a mischievous pair that glimmered the same way stars twinkled that night he drove you home.

Ever since making the "Making Mark Lee Y/N's Boyfriend" pact with your neighbor, you've been spending a lot more time together than you've ever had in the past. Admittingly, you've been enjoying it.

When did you last laugh as hard as you did when he attempted to step over the fence separating your houses? ("I can do it, my legs are long enough. Watch.") The boy ended up stuck with one leg half over and the other dangling off and because he looked ridiculous, you ended up on the soft grass of your backyard, tears in the corners of your eyes as you laughed.

When was the last time you felt comfortable enough with a person to share your deepest insecurities with each other in the dead of the night? Texting him nothing but a sad emoji as the clock hits 3am, receiving a response almost immediately - "Can I call you?". Talking about your ambitions, dreams, and fears until the sun rose above the horizon and you both realized you had school in an hour.

That didn't mean you liked him or anything though, right?

You liked Mark.

Or so you thought.

Maybe?

Fuck. How dare Donghyuck confuse you like this.

Sometimes, you wonder how things turn out. How the smallest choices can lead you down a whole new path entirely. And how they all led to Lee Donghyuck currently being sprawled on his stomach on your bed, legs swinging in the air.

Right. You had a date with the other Lee. The one you allegedly had a crush on. Well, it wasn't a date per se. It was more of a one on one friendly hangout? Donghyuck had gotten movie tickets for both him and Mark - then ditched the day before and said you would go in his place. It was kind of genius.

"Okay, would Mark like this color better than the blue?" You ask, clothes strewn across the floor. A good chunk of your day had been spent digging through your closet looking for clothes you think Mark would like. Your neighbor couldn't care less about your crisis. He barely spared a glance up at you before he returned to whatever he was looking at on his phone.

"Looks good."

"Donghyuck, I need you to keep up your half of the deal."

The boy finally gives you his attention. Pulling himself up so that he's sitting on the edge on your bed, staring straight at you.

"Shouldn't you want him to like you as you are? There's no point doing all this-" He gestures to the mess, "-just to impress him. I think you'd look nice even if you chose to wear your pajamas out."

"But he doesn't like me. Not yet at least. That's why I have you to help me."

"...Right."

The atmosphere suddenly becomes stuffy. You wonder if you said the wrong thing because suddenly, the boy next door is leaving. It's not surprising given that the both of you spent half a day going through your wardrobe and he probably had things to do. But, you just can't shake the uneasy feeling.

"Hey, are we good? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, we're good. Good luck." Donghyuck says at your door, a smile unlike any of the previous ones you've seen gracing his face. It seemed forced.

A faint pitter patter of rain hitting the window panes sounds through the quiet room.

You hope he made it home without getting wet.

"Man, I didn't know you liked Spiderman too."

"Mmhm."

You made it to the theatres with Mark. You enjoyed watching the movie with Mark. You were getting driven home by Mark. You had a great time with your crush. So why was your mind still on a certain situation and a certain someone from before.

"My other friends all watched it on a day I got called into work so I was surprised when Haechan was willing to re-watch it with me - he's usually not that nice, you know?"

The edges of your mouth lift a little at the dig at Donghyuck. In front, the windshield wipers squeak a little, trying their best to rid the glass of rain droplets. The radio plays an old song in the background that Mark hums softly to, thumbs tapping in time on the wheel while waiting for the lights to turn green. It was cozy, but could never measure up to how intimate you felt in the car with Donghyuck.

"Then he dips last minute. Honestly, I shouldn't have been surprised. I was more surprised that you were coming instead though - I thought you would've wanted to watch it with Haechan."

Your brows furrow. "Why?"

"Oh - I thought you liked him."

The world around you stopped. Though the light turned green and the car was definitely moving now, you felt your entire body freeze.

"How did you come to that conclusion?"

Mark's confusion showed on his face, his emotions always did. That was one of the things you liked about him. Or so, you thought.

"Well, for starters, you're much more comfortable around him. I don't know if that's just because you always tense up when I'm around. I'm sorry if I've done anything to make you uncomfortable by the way, it was never my intention."

Mark Lee, your supposed crush, thought you were uncomfortable around him. You lean your head against the window of his car, it was nice and cool. Perfect as you let yourself ponder.

You always were unnecessarily nervous around him - but wasn't that normal? You liked him. You liked his smile, how he was able to win the favors of everyone around him so easily, how he was always reliable, how good he was at sports- oh.

It was never romantic.

You didn't know anything about Mark. You never even had a proper conversation with him. What he liked to do in his spare time, what his plan was for the future, what stupid habit he has, what he sounds like over the phone at 3am. You had no idea.

But you knew what Donghyuck liked to do in his spare time, what he wanted to do in the future, what his stupid habit was, what he sounded like over the phone at 3am.

Fuck.

And it all came rushing to you all at once.

The prize was always something shiny, blazing, and brilliant. It was something you wanted but would put on a shelf to admire. Mark Lee was your prize. Someone you admired. He was never someone you imagined having debates with for the rest of your life. He was never someone you imagined spending rainy days indoors together with.

Perhaps, after all this time, the prize wasn't what you were after. Perhaps, what you really wanted was to spend time with-

"No way."

"Hm?"

"I like Lee Donghyuck."

Your admiration for Mark was a luminous, fleeting feeling that you mistook for love. Love was never about having to dress like a different person to impress them. Love was laughing together at the smallest things, showing up in two week old pajamas and still thinking they're the most beautiful being you've laid eyes on, and sometimes, love was fighting over a parking spot outside your house.

Mark grins. "Great. He's been in love with you since third grade."

"What?'

"Why do you think he's never dated before? All this time, he's been waiting for you to realize."

"I'm glad we got closer today," Mark mentions, pulling onto your street, "you seem a lot more comfortable now."

Yeah, because you no longer thought Mark was your dream man. A weight was taken off your shoulders now and you didn't feel the need to keep up an act around him anymore.

"Thanks for today."

"Hey dude, no worries. Just let me know if you need any help wooing Haechan alright? I love helping couples get together."

"...Didn't you try before with two other couples?"

"...Yeah... They didn't turn out how I thought they would."

The two of you share a laugh before you clamber out of his vehicle and wave him goodbye from your porch. The rain had started pouring down from the grey skies but your fingers hesitate at your door.

Fuck it.

Instead of walking into your warm and dry house, you decide to brave the rain and run over to your neighbor's, splashing through the puddles without care. It soaked the clothes you spent forever deciding on and ruined your meticulously done hair, but urgent times call for urgent measures.

Two knocks and the door swings open, revealing the boy next door behind. His eyes widen at the sight of you taking heaving breaths on his doorstep, hair and clothes complete wet and still getting pelted on by the rain.

"Did he hurt you?"

The urge to laugh bubbles through you. He was always putting you first. All this time, he was helping you chase another man. He was ready to give up on his chance with you if that meant you had a chance of being happy with someone else. Even now, after you'd hurt him, he was still worried about you.

"Lee Donghyuck, I'm in love with you."

For a while, everything's silent. Even the rain fell mute on your ears. All you could see was your rival's jaw open in shock and his Adams apple bobbing up and down trying to find the words to say. It was quite a satisfying view.

Then you start rambling as panic settles in. The need to apologize for hurting him, how you actually felt about Mark, how you found out about your feelings. Old habits die hard.

Except, not even a full sentence into your unplanned speech, Donghyuck steps out of his house, into the rain, and cuts you off with his warm, soft lips on yours. You stumble back, not expecting the sudden weight on you, and the two of you fall back onto the wet, cold grass on his front yard.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear that."

His face was as close to yours as physically possible, eyes gazing lovingly over your features, wanting to soak every second of this moment in.

"Let me guess, since third grade?"

"I knew Mark couldn't be trusted."

Laughter claims you both before you pull him in by the collar for another kiss. There were grass stains on your clothes, it was cold and muddy, and the two of you will definitely end up with a cold the next day, but somehow, in that moment, you felt as though the world was yours.

"I kept my end of the deal."

"What do you mean?"

"You ended up getting a boyfriend with the name "Lee". I think that means I get the parking spot."

You smile.

"I'd happily do the walk of shame for you."

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM THE MANDALORIAN SEASON 2 *  assorted dialogue from the tv show, adjust as necessary

enjoy the fights.

they say it lives here. they say it sleeps.

i know you're good at killing.

where did you get the armor?

i'm sure you call the shots where you come from, but 'round here, i'm the one who tells folks what to do.

take it off. or i will.

i'm prepared to pay you for the information.

i'm not leaving my fate up to chance.

thank you for coming to me.

give it to me now, or i will peel it off your corpse.

you must promise you won't kill me.

i promise that you will not die by my hand.

that wasn't part of the deal.

you don't understand what it was like.

i've got an idea. get its attention.

maybe we can work something out.

they might be open to some fresh ideas.

i hope someday our paths will cross again.

we've heard the stories.

what am i supposed to do with this?

am i under arrest?

you might be in luck.

oh, stop your crying. you'll rust.

i'm not a taxi service.

i paraphrased.

what can i say? i'm an excellent judge of character.

i'll let you know if i see any.

how much will it cost me?

thank you for letting me know. i'll get right on it.

what the hell are you doing?

this was not a part of the deal.

if you hadn't guessed, we're in a tight spot.

that old thing's gonna break apart in this atmosphere.

are you sure you won't join us?

there's something i need to do.

this is more than i signed up for.

that planet is cursed. anyone who goes there dies.

i can lead you to one of their kind.

do you copy?

put some tea on. we'll be up in a minute.

i'll let you live.

we've been hitting them pretty hard.

this was the best you could do?

were you able to eliminate them?

looks like we made it. get ready for landing.

according to records, you're quite a soldier. we could really use you.

that was some pretty impressive flying.

can i at least buy you a drink?

i believe you two have met.

i'm surprised to see this place is still standing.

i'll take my chances down here.

we'll watch the doors.

can we talk business?

i'm only here for repairs.

you wanna come back here and try this? be my guest!

i'm sure we can work something out.

i cannot train him.

you've seen what he can do.

i must get back to the village.

i've seen him do things i can't explain.

show yourself. i've been expecting you.

you will learn nothing from me.

surrender, or face the consequences.

we must find a way to free them.

my price is high.

i believe this is your payment.

you made me a promise, and i held up my end.

your bounty hunter failed.

if you want my armor, you'll have to peel it off my dead body.

i give my allegiance to no one.

nice shot.

you look like you've just seen a ghost.

you may think you have some idea of what you're in possession of, but you do not.

it's all the same to these people.

hey, i'm just a realist. i'm a survivor, just like you.

let's get one thing straight. you and i are nothing alike.

everybody's got their line they don't cross until things get messy.

you did what you had to do.

everybody thinks they want freedom, but what they really want is order.

we got company. hang on.

you get to the roof. i'll drop in and pull you out.

hey, if you want to accuse me of something, then just say it.

let's just say they might recognize my face.

you're not going alone. i'm coming with you.

that's not how this works.

that was some nice shooting back there.

wish i could say it looked good on you, but i'd be lying.

i can't go in there.

are you a jedi?

that's who you belong with.

may the force be with you.

you're a disgrace to your armor.

i've heard your voice thousands of times.

i thought you were dead.

don't be afraid.

drop your weapon.

don't worry about me. just be careful in there.

i need your help.

you're sparing my life?

open the doors.

i suggest you shut your mouth.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Stirrings in the Junkyard

Summary: A one-shot set during season 2. Eddie was hanging out in the junkyard when he caught sight of a side of Steve Harrington that no one had ever seen before, and it caused quite a stir in Eddie's secret romantic heart. Also, with a side of monsters.

Eddie was just minding his own business, really. Here he was, late at night, sitting in a junked out old car that he turned into a little fort. Wayne's trailer was occupied tonight. . .their trailer was occupied tonight. He was still getting used to calling it that since he moved in a few months or so ago. Well, officially anyway, he's lived there on and off the last few years since he was eight. It wasn't until his goddamn house burned down due to his own stupid decision-making skills and his father's that he had to move in with Wayne. Not that he was complaining. He loved Wayne. He just missed that house sometimes, the house his mom had picked out herself. He sighed and tried to get the image of his mother's records going up in smoke out of his head and focused on the book he was reading under a flashlight. That's when he heard it, the sound of hushed voices and something. . . something growling.

Shit, was the junkyard occupied by someone else tonight? Eddie sighed and rolled his eyes. He finally found a perfect place to escape to, and someone else was here. God, was it someone doing something sketchy. . .like maybe a drug deal. Eddie snorted. He was the one to talk, considering he had just started selling drugs to help pay the bills. Shit, did he have competition? No, these sounded like kid's voices, and someone was yelling for a guy named Steve. Eddie peered through the broken door frame from the back seat of the car. His eyes widened when he saw what was next to the very car that he was in. At first, he thought that it was a fucked up looking dog but there was no way that this creature belonged here on Earth. There was just no fucking way.

Eddie slapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from yelling out. One sound and he was done for. The creature was black with long, gangly looking limbs. It walked on all four of them, so it was an easy mistake to make, thinking it was a dog. It had no face. No eyes. No nose. No mouth. How did it eat? Oh God, he didn't want to find out. That's when he saw him, out of the corner of his eye. Steve Harrington. He stood in front of the bus like a guardian or a knight, a nail studded baseball bat in his hand and wielding it like a sword. He could see kids' faces peeking out and calling for him. Steve was protecting them. He was a gallant handsome knight, protecting his young charges. He's more like a paladin, really, Eddie thought. Wait, handsome? He must have let out a wimper because suddenly, the creature was trying to get into the car.

"Shit!" Eddie cursed as he backed away from the window and pressed himself up against the other door.

Suddenly, the creature's non face opened up to a giant flowery shaped mouth with thousands of rows of teeth. He was going fucking die. . .or so he thought. A moment later, he saw more creatures approach Steve, and Eddie watched for a moment as Steve took a swing at one, hitting it with everything he had. Eddie couldn't stop watching the swing of his hips. The creature growled and moved away from the window. It joined the others in their fight against Steve. Eddie couldn't stop watching the way he moved. The man was breathtaking, a word he never used to describe a man before, but it was accurate. The word belonged to Steve, and now, suddenly, Eddie could see what so many of the girls were saying about him. He was utterly gorgeous. Yep, Eddie Munson had a crush on a boy. Goddamnit, those stupid jocks were right. He wasn't straight. He wasn't gay either though.

"Fuck," Eddie muttered.

Suddenly, the creatures ran off like they were called away, and for whatever reason, Eddie still couldn't stop watching Steve. Okay, he knew about his crush and the things that go bump in the night, Eddie could look away now. He was in awe of Steve Harrington, though, completely enamored, and he couldn't look away. He watched as Steve ran his hands through his hair, and Eddie's eyes followed his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Eddie licked his own. Steve’s side was turned to him so he could see his profile pretty well in the moonlight. Eddie's eyes followed past his hair and down the curvature of his back. He liked the way his back curved, and Eddie could image running his hands down it until they rested against the small of his back. . .maybe even cupping his well-rounded ass. Holy shit, you could probably bounce a nickel off that thing. That's when he realized he was being watched. Steve’s eyes were on his or were they? He couldn't see him, right? Steve started moving toward the car. Shit.

"Steve, come on, they're heading toward the lab!" A boy shrieked.

"I thought I saw - Nevermind! Wait for me, you little shitheads!" Steve yelled.

Eddie sunk low and laid down against the seat. He pressed a hand to his chest to calm his racing heart. He shut his eyes tight, hoping that it had all been a dream. He wasn't sure when he had drifted off to sleep, but when he had opened his eyes again, sunlight was peaking through the window. Shit! Eddie sat up and quickly climbed out of the car. Wayne was going to be worried. He hopped in his van and drove off. When he got back to the trailer, Wayne was waiting for him out on the couch out front. It was earlier than he thought it was. The sun hadn't quite woken all the way up yet. Eddie plopped down next to him on the couch.

"Your friend leave?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah. You fall asleep in the car again?" Wayne asked.

"Yep," Eddie said, his leg shaking.

"You know, you don't have to keep doing that. Going to the junkyard," Wayne said.

"It's fine. I loved it there," Eddie said.

"You look a little pale there. Is everything okay?" Wayne asked.

Eddie looked at him and debated on whether or not he should tell him. Knowing his uncle and his conspiracy theories, he knew he would believe him if he said anything. It was best to keep it quiet.

"You ever ran away from something because people were telling you that's who you are, and they acted like it was a bad thing, but really, you didn't want them to be right because of your own stupid fears?" Eddie asked.

"Tried to run away from being a Munson when I was younger," Wayne shrugged. "But then I realized it wasn't just my daddy who shared the name but my mama too. She chose to be a Munson even after everything he put us through and even after he died. I ain't ashamed of it no more because you're one too, and I'm happy to share it with you, too."

"The crazy thing is, is that I never thought that it was a bad thing, I just ran away from it, and I don't know why," Eddie said.

"Looking into a mirror and being aware you're looking at yourself can be an unsettling thing. It's hard to open up to people and even harder to open up to yourself," Wayne said. "You want to tell me what this is all about, son?"

"I like women, but I also like. . . ," Eddie said and suddenly pictured his own dad walking out of his life, giving him pause. ". . . I also like men."

He was leaning forward, sitting on the very edge of the couch and trying his hardest not to look at Wayne. Suddenly, he was pulled back, and Wayne was hugging him tightly to his chest.

"You're my boy, and ain't nothing going to change that," Wayne said. "I love you, kid."

"I love you, too," Eddie sniffled as Wayne kissed the top of his head, and Eddie pulled back.

"Besides, you really thought the friend that I invited over here last night was a woman?" Wayne asked.

"You're - "

"Gay. Always have been," Wayne said.

"You never said," Eddie said.

"You never asked. I never asked you either. I figured you would come to me when you were ready," Wayne said.

Eddie sighed, grinning, and leaned back. He sank lower into the couch and rested his head on Wayne's shoulder like he used to do. They watched the sun wake all the way up, shining down over the trailer park as though it was letting them know that everything was going to be okay. For a moment, Eddie believed in the sun, and then he remembered the creatures in the junkyard. The image of the teeth chowing down on Uncle Wayne popped into his head. He couldn't stop the shudder from coming. He wouldn't let anything happen to him.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure there isn't anything else that you want to talk about?"

"I'm good, Uncle Wayne. I'm all good."

He had been hoping to talk to Steve that very day at school, but he wasn't there that day, nor was he there the following day. The next time he saw him was on Monday, and it looked like someone had done a number on his face. He managed to get him alone when Eddie himself was also going to the bathroom. He had spotted Steve going in first. He waited a moment before following him in there. Steve hadn't noticed him at all, struggling with the lid of a Tylenol bottle. Eddie made sure no one else was in the stalls before locking the bathroom. He swiped the bottle from Steve’s hand and hopped up on the bathroom counter.

"Those are not going to help you," Eddie said.

"And how do you know what's going to help me, Dr. Munson?" Steve scoffed.

"I've been called worse," Eddie said, cackling. "I don't know if you've heard about what I've been doing lately - "

"Selling weed," Steve said.

"Yes, that," Eddie said. "It's going to help you a lot more than these things will."

"I don't have a whole lot of money on me," Steve said, looking embarrassed.

Eddie tilted his head, studying him. He looked weak, pathetic, and sad like the bruises weren't the only things that were hurting him. He was curious about the bruises and it won out.

"What happened to your face, man?" Eddie asked.

"I don't really want to talk about it," Steve winced.

Eddie could tell that he meant that. He wanted so badly to tell Steve about what he had witnessed in the junkyard, but he could see it in his eyes that whatever he went through, he didn't want to talk about it. Maybe another day.

"Okay. Do you still want the weed then?" Eddie asked.

"I told you, I don't have a lot of money on me," Steve said.

"I don't want your money," Eddie said softly.

"What?" Steve asked.

Eddie couldn't believe what he was saying next. He couldn't believe how brave he was being considering that Steve could punch his lights out. Maybe he was just being stupid.

"A kiss," Eddie said.

"A kiss?" Steve asked. "From. . .?"

"You."

"Right. On the cheek or. . .?"

Eddie puckered his lips at him, and Steve swallowed. Oh, this was stupid. Steve was going to kill him. Suddenly, though, Steve was moving closer to Eddie and spreading his legs apart before stepping in between them. Steve grabbed Eddie's legs and slid him closer, very roughly. Eddie wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulder as the sudden movement, grabbing the back of his jacket. Steve’s face was very close to his, his lips hovering over Eddie's lips.

"I'm not doing this for the weed," he whispered.

And then Steve was kissing him, like actually kissing him. It was like out of a goddamn romance novel, the kinds that Eddie always denies reading when people ask him, the kind that he was reading in the car in the junkyard. He gasped, his mouth opening when he realized he had left his book in the junkyard. Like he always does, he put his name on the inside cover. Steve slipped his tongue in his mouth, and suddenly, every thought fell out of his head. Eddie moved his other hand into his hair, his legs squeezing his hips as he moaned. Steve cupped the back of his head, his large hand cradling him so gently. Suddenly, Eddie became very aware that the hands holding him so delicately, so softly, were man hands. The lips that were on his were a guy's. Eddie broke the kiss with a gasp, feeling very overwhelmed.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, cupping his cheek.

"Yeah, I just - ," Eddie trailed off.

"This is your first time kissing a guy?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, I'm going to guess that it's not the first time for you," Eddie said.

"Yeah," Steve said.

"I'm sorry, I only just figured out that I like guys, and I thought I was ready, especially when I saw you, but I don't think I'm quite there yet. Sorry, if - " Eddie babbled.

"Eddie," Steve said softly, his thumb stroking his cheekbone. "It's okay. Take your time. Breathe."

Eddie inhaled and slowly exhaled, leaning his face into Steve’s soft touch.

"Thank you," Eddie whispered.

"Take your time, man. When you're ready, come and find me," Steve said. "I'm in the big book."

"The bible?!" Eddie exclaimed.

Okay, yeah, that kiss turned his brain into oatmeal. Goddamnit.

"The phonebook," Steve laughed and grabbed the Tylenol bottle from Eddie. "You're right, I don't need this. I feel much better."

He kissed the tip of Eddie's nose, and he walked out of the room with a spring in his step. Eddie eyes were glued to his backside the entire time he walked away. He ended up leaning so far forward that he fell off the counter and onto the floor. Eddie flopped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.

"Oh, I am in trouble," Eddie said.

It was a statement he repeated a couple of years later, when Chrissy Cunningham died in his trailer and he was hiding out in Reefer Rick's boathouse. He never expected him to show up, and he certainly never expected to see him after Eddie pushed himself away after Eddie distanced himself like a coward that he is. Eddie didn't deny himself after that kiss. He even went up to Indianapolis and discovered the term for himself. Eddie Munson was a full-blown bisexual. He wasn't afraid of that anymore. No, it was the fear of actually getting close to someone in an intimate manner of letting his guard down that kept him at bay. He had hoped that Steve somehow knew. As Eddie pushed him up against the wall of that boathouse, he could see it in Steve's eyes. Steve knew. He cupped Eddie's face and brushed his thumb against his cheekbone.

"It's okay, take your time, breathe. It's okay, Eddie," Steve said softly.

Eddie whimpered, leaned into his touch, and dropped the beer bottle. He buried his face into Steve’s neck. He broke down sobbing as Steve wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just ran," Eddie sobbed.

After that, everything happened so fast. They barely had time to talk except for that little moment in the woods in the Upside Down, where they admitted that they had been jealous of each other's relationship with Dustin. God, he really did love that little dude, and yeah, every time Dustin brought up Steve’s name, he had been a little jealous, but he had also felt guilty about not going to Steve. That one stupid kiss felt so perfect but also final, and it was like he realized he was never going to have a first kiss ever again. They had barely interacted, but when Eddie saw Steve swinging that bat in the junkyard and protecting those kids, he had known in that moment that this guy was it for him. God, did that scare the shit out of him, so he ran away.

"Hey," a magical voice sang to him.

White lights floated above him, and he furrowed his brow in confusion. There's no way in hell. . .

"Am I in fucking Heaven? Who in their right mind would let me through the gate? Oh my God! What's that obnoxious beeping sound? Someone get your fucking food, man," Eddie groaned and then he blinked more clearly to find that Steve was sitting by his bedside. "Yeah, I am in Heaven. There's a fucking angel sitting beside me."

Steve grinned and blushed. Eddie heard giggling coming from somewhere. He looked around and groaned. He was in a goddamn hospital and surrounded by his uncle as well as the members of the party.

"Don't be embarrassed, son. That's not the worst thing you ever said," Wayne told him. "I could tell everyone about the time you got your appendix out, and you told the nurse - "

"Nothing! I told her nothing!" Eddie exclaimed.

"It's good to see you're awake, Eddie," Nancy said as she started to push everyone out of the room.

"Um, okay, I guess I'm not as interesting now that you guys can no longer watch me sleep," Eddie said.

"We're giving you some time, son," Wayne said.

"Time for what?" Eddie asked with wide eyes. "Time for what, Uncle Wayne?!"

He didn't answer, just followed everyone out of the room, leaving Eddie alone with Steve.

"This isn't the first time you woke up, you know," Steve said.

"It's not?" Eddie asked.

"No, you were still pretty out of it. You kept apologizing to me about waiting too long, then something how when you saw me swinging that bat in the junkyard protecting the kids, that you knew I was it for you," Steve blushed. "And you said it scared the shit out of you which, I totally get."

"You do?" Eddie said.

"Do you think that you're the first person who ever ran away from big scary feelings? You're not. I mean, why do you think that I didn't chase after you? I had just gotten dumped, I was still hurting pretty bad, and suddenly, the guy that I've been crushing on since freshman year wanted to kiss me. I pushed you away too because when I kissed you, I knew you were it for me too," Steve said. "It was easier to run than to risk getting hurt again. I think I'm ready to take that risk, if you are."

"Yeah," Eddie said, grinning when Steve took his hand and kissed it.

"So, I guess you never went back to that junkyard after that because when I went there, I found this," Steve grinned.

He pulled out a book from his pocket and wiggled it in front of Eddie. It was his romance novel. With his name writing on the inside cover.

"Oh, no," Eddie said.

"Oh, yes, Eddie Munson likes romance novels," Steve grinned. "Apparently, he has a type, too. You know that guy on the cover looks awfully familiar. I think I've seen a guy like him in the mirror a time or too. I've got better hair, though."

"Goddamnit, how do you make being a bitch look so sexy?" Eddie muttered.

"It's a God-given talent, baby," Steve winked. "Now, let's crack open this bad boy because you're in luck, I happen to love romance novels too, and I haven't read this one yet."

With one hand, he held the book, and the other he held Eddie's. Eddie, meanwhile, gazed lovingly at him as he listened to him read. Steve paused for a moment before pulling out a pair of glasses from his pocket and slipping it onto his face. Oh God. He has glasses. Yep, Eddie Munson was completely gone for this man. Time of Love - wait, there's no fucking clock in this room. Goddamnit. Time is a funny thing. One minute, you're just minding your own business, and the next thing you know, you have got the best thing that ever happened to you reading by your hospital bed. Time, what a mischievous bitch.

[celestelunia]

Hope this isn't to OOC. Lol! I don't usually post stuff I write but decided I want to do more on here. Changed this into a reader insert.

She/her

Reader is magicless

Established relationship

**Just some warnings - blood, cursing, and abuse**

Jade ran down an empty and eerily quiet hallway of the NRC. Night had fallen, and most of the students were already tucked away in their own dorms for the night. He would be as well if it wasn't for a text he had received and the events that unfolded just before.

While Jade was good at his job handling whatever methods Azul needed from him, the eel never thought someone would be stupid enough to touch what was his.

It started when Y/N didn't show up for her shift at the lounge. Figuring she got caught up with something, he decided to wait to allow her time to arrive. She was rarely ever late, which cause Jade to frown slightly, but due to the chaos of the lounge, he pushed it aside and decided to text Y/N before heading back to work.

When Jade saw that his message was left unread during his break, he decided to ask her friends.

After questioning her friends and with their attempts to reach Y/N unsuccessfully, the teal haired eel excused himself as he left the lounge after reassuring her friends that he would go find her. It wasn't a feeling he got often, but something felt off. As he left, his phone chimed, notifying him of a text. Pulling out his phone, Jade noticed an unfamiliar number had texted him, and attached to it was a video. Gripping his phone, he pushed play.

"Is it recording?" A random male voice called out from off screen.

"Yep." Another said as the screen moved towards a very familiar figure on the floor.

In that moment, Jade felt his world stop.

"Come on, girlie." A taller man called out as he came out into view. Someone who Jade recognized as a Savanaclaw student who didn't repay the debt he owned. Someone who Jade was sent to deal with personally a few weeks ago. "Say hello~" the fox man said as he knelt down and grabbed the chin of the person in front of them as he forced them to look at the screen.

Y/N was on her knees, her uniform torn and a mess. Her hands seemed to be tied behind her back, but her eyes still held fire in them along with a mixture of fear. As the man grabbed her chin, Y/N shook him off before she bit down hard on his hand.

"Ah! You bitch!" He yelled as he pulled back his hand while the others off camera laughed. Sounded like there were two other people in the room.

"She's feisty!"

The Savanaclaw student growled as he grabbed Y/N by the front of her shirt, pulling her up off the ground and off her feet. "You're going to pay for that." He hissed with a glared as he watched Y/N struggle in his hold before she suddenly grinned.

"You guys must really have a death wish..." she said, causing the two others who were laughing to stop suddenly at her words. "Do you really think that hurting me is going to get back at him?" Y/N said in a stained voice as she did her best not to show any fear. "If anything, you're just going to piss him off...and if he's hard to deal with normally..." she warned, trailing off.

Silence was the only thing that greeted them for a couple of seconds as if Y/N words added a dash of fear to the people in the room.

Feeling his anger flair, the Savanaclaw fox suddenly threw Y/N. Feeling her back hit a wall, she let out a cry before she fell to the floor, the air completely knocked out of her due to the sudden impact. Not being able to hold back a small whimper, she flinched as she tried to pull herself up.

"Hey man...I thought you said you wouldn't hurt her. Just rough her up a bit to send a message..." A cornered voice said from behind the camera.

"Shut up!" The Savanaclaw man yelled as he looked back at the camera. "Come to the gym so we can settle this." He snapped before he made his way back towards Y/N.

"Hey. Wait a moment..." The concerned voice from before called out before the video abruptly ended.

Feeling his phone crack, Jade realized he was gripping the small device on his hand too hard. Spinning around, he rushed towards the gym.

It didn't take him long to arrive. After all, he knew NRC like the back of his hand and all the shortcuts thanks to his job in collecting student information.

The doors to the gym threw open as Jade kicked it open. In the center of the gym stood the Savanaclaw student as he punched a Scarabia student. With a quick surveillance, he noticed the other student unconscious on the floor.

"Finally arrived." The Savanaclaw student laughed as he turned to face Jade.

As he did, Jade noticed someone on the floor besides the two other students. Y/N body was on the ground, and Jade's eyes locked onto the small amount of blood that was pooled around her head. She wasn't moving...

"Oh? Well, this is something." The Savanaclaw fox said as his ears twitched happily. "Never seen you without that stupid grin on your face."

It was like all sounds around him disappeared as Jade felt something snap in him. His heterochromia eyes hardened as he took out his magical pen as his normally playful demeanor was long gone before the doors to the gym closed shut behind him.

--------‐------------------

Letting out a small moan, Y/N slowly opened her eyes as she noticed a white ceiling. She had such a headache! With a sigh, she pushed herself up before flinching lightly. Her whole body hurt...

Moving her hand up to her head, she felt some bandages wrapped around her forehead. "Oh." She whispered as the memories suddenly came rushing back. Seems she must have blacked out at some point when that fox student kicked her.

Feeling something move, she glanced over to see her boyfriend's arms on her bed and his head resting against them as he slept.

Realizing she was safe and that Jade came for her, she smiled before she placed her hands over her face for a moment. At least he seemed okay.

Y/N must have been lost in thought because the next thing she knew, arms were suddenly wrapped around her, pulling her into a hug.

"Jade?" She called out, realizing he was awake now. When he didn't respond right away, Y/N gently reached up and touched his arm. "Hey. I'm okay."

At her words, Jade pulled back to look at her before he pulled Y/N into a gentle kiss. "I'm so sorry." He whispered as he pulled away. He should have been more careful.

"I knew you would come." Y/N said with a small smile as she took his hand in hers. "I can handle a little bump and burises." she said as she hoped to make him feel better. "It was my fault for not being more careful as well."

Jade said nothing at first as he just stared at his girlfriend. She was the one hurt, and here she was trying to cheer him up. He really didn't deserve her. "You don't need to be tough for me." He said as he gently rested his forehead against hers.

Y/N tensed up slightly at his words before a waterfall of tears suddenly fell from her eyes and down her cheeks. "H-huh?" She whispered as she felt like his words broke down her dam that was holding back all of her emotions. She had been so scared but she didn't want to admit it. She didn't want to feel weak.

Jade reached up as he gently wiped away his girlfriends tears as he kissed her forehead as he stayed by her side as she cried.

Once Y/N was better and out and about, Jade was never seen too far from her side. Word spread on what happened and how the main student who cause the issues wasn't seen after it. Some people said Crowley handled it in secret and expelled the students while others say Jade was the reason for the disappearance. The other two students who were involved were also suspended, so no one could confirm what happened. Either way, the message was clear.

Don't touch what was his.

[thefearedashantis]

Garlic Toast and Bloody Noses

Pairing: Sirius Black x SAHM! Reader (stay at home mom)

Summary: Your eldest daughter got in trouble at school and Sirius is livid.

Word count: 3.1K

Warning: None (if you think it needs one lmk)

Emmerson is cranky, per usual. You weren’t sure how long a two-year-old could cry before tiring themselves out, but he was surely going for the record.

Nothing you did soothed him. Rocking, singing, a stroll around the block. He didn’t want to eat. He didn’t want to play. He didn’t want to sleep. The reasoning for his upset was simple enough. One you’d figured out shortly after he was born.

He hated you. Detested. Loathed. Abhorred. As much as the very idea broke your heart.

From the moment he took his first breathe he despised your very presence. Would absolutely scream his little head off until Sirius, or anyone really, rescued him from your grasp. Only then from the comfort of his fathers’ arms would he calm, then turn back to stare at you accusingly with watery eyes.

Well, his father wasn’t home at the moment, and you stare at the clock praying for the minutes to go by quicker. School and extracurricular activities having ended, Sirius and your other two children should be walking through the front door any second.

Your husband would enter your home silently, tuckered out from a long day. He’d take off his shoes and hang up his coat. Round the couch and lean down to peck you gently at the corner of your lips before prying your son from your arms. Wrestling his fat hands loose of your hair which he never failed to get an ironclad grip on. Then you’d stow away in the bathroom for a few quiet minutes after saying hello to your girls. Just to give yourself a little pep talk and allow the headache pulsing behind your eyes to recede. Give yourself some much-needed reassurance that this behaviour couldn’t last forever. At some point he’d warm up to you.

He had to, right?

You’re wretched from your thoughts at the slam of the front door. Followed by a gust of air whisking by you where you were slumped in the living room, thunderous footsteps banging up the stairs. Another door slams in the distance.

From the brief glimpse at the back of a muddy soccer uniform you know it must be Amelia, and that fact has you up on your feet in a panic. Because just as your youngest scorned your existence your eldest adored you. If she wasn’t at school she was virtually glued to your hip. She would never come home without stopping to throw herself at you like you’d been apart for an eternity.

Something was wrong.

You’ve barely placed Emmy into his playpen, a rigorous tussle, and taken a step into the hall when a small body crashes into your middle. Your kindergartner. Backpack, coat and shoes still on.

“Mom!”

“Claire!” you try to match her enthusiasm.

“I’m hungry” she mumbles against your stomach, arms squeezing you tight.

“I made your favourite snack. It’s on the counter for you.”

Sirius appears in the archway just as Claire scurries away. He’s in a flurry, making long strides in the direction of the stairs without so much as acknowledging you. “You get back down here right now young lady!” His voice all but shakes the house, sending your heart scuttling into your throat. Sirius never raises his voice, especially not when angry. Sirius was hardly ever angry to begin with.

Your hand shoots out to grab at him before he can get too far, pulling him to a harsh stop. “Whoa, whoa whoa! What’s going on?”

“Lia got in a fight at school!” Claire calls from the kitchen.

And he’s teetering on you, trying to get you to let him go.

“What? Why didn’t you call me? What’s happened, is she alright?”

“I’d say she’s doing better than Isaac!” Now he’s moving, circling to the other end of the room, dragging you along with him. “I mean parents trust me to look after and teach their children! How does it seem when I can’t even discipline my own? She’s old enough to know not to hit others!”

Sirius was the music teacher at the local elementary school. The one both of your daughters attended. That being the case he usually handled anything pertaining to the girls while on the premises.  Didn’t mean you were out of the loop however. If one got so much as a scratch on the playground you were sent a text about it. For the entire day to have elapsed without him informing you on what had happened was odd.

“Sirius” you release his arm in favour of his face, rubbing at the space between his nape and ear in a manner you knew he found soothing “Honey, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

But your attempts to pacify him prove worthless when his roaming eyes finally snap to yours with a steely coldness that has a chill running up your spine. You see none of the sticky affection you’re accustomed to within them. Nothing but distaste. There was no questioning Emmy’ parentage with that gaze.

“I told you the haircut wasn’t a good idea.”

Haircut? Was he still upset about that all these weeks later?

“What’s her hair have to do with anything?”

His eyes roll so hard you fear they’ll be lost in the back of his head. He shakes out of your hold. “Because you undermine me with every little thing when it comes to her! I try to put my foot down and you immediately slag it off!”

“It’s her hair Sirius. She wanted it short and you couldn’t give a good enough reason why she shouldn’t be allowed to have it that way.”

Emmy has finally gone quiet in his play pen. Standing and peeking over the edges at the two of you, gaze flitting back and forth like a ping pong ball whenever someone speaks. Probably wondering why his beloved father hasn’t come to pick him up yet.

“Because she looks like a boy!” Sirius throws his hands up, looking to the sky for some sort of backup he would not be receiving. “She already dresses like a boy, you’ve let her chop all her hair off and now she’s running around getting into trouble like some little delinquent!” With every word his face gets more and more red, voice trembling with raging effort.

You can’t seem to find anything to say for a long moment, just watching him breathe in and out in desperate rags. A minute passes, then two. When he manages to catch his breath and stumble over to the couch you follow closely behind. Leaning down near his ear so you won’t have to speak above a whisper.

“First of all Black, I don’t know who you’re speaking to in that tone but I suggest you check it, right now. Her hair and the way she dresses are nobody’s business but her own and they don’t make her a boy.” The fact those words could even leave his mouth after the childhood he had baffled you “And second I think you should stop and reevaluate the way you talk about your daughter, especially while she’s right upstairs to hear you.”

He turns his head. You’re so far into his space that your noses almost brush but you don’t back away. You would always stand firm when it came to your children. The one’s you two created and set out to raise together in the loving and supporting environment neither of you had gotten growing up.

 “Are you guys arguing?”

You straighten up at the squeak of Claire’s question. She stands behind the couch with a slight frown on her round face. Her snack of garlic toast held between two hands.

“No darling of course not,” a smile splits your expression for good measure “why don’t you come with me to check on Lia while Daddy says hello to Emmy hm?”

Claire is not convinced “sounded like arguing.”

You’re at the base of the stairs, swatting the girl up them, when Sirius calls back in a very small manner “I’m sorry.”

He appears more like himself now, the love of your life. Thin, long limbed, warm eyes with a hint of melancholy. Deflated of his anger and replenished with his token skittish composure.

“When I come back there will be no more yelling.”

He nods, and you’re off to discover the root of this grand affair.

Claire stands outside of Lia’ closed door when you arrive. Shifting from foot to foot as if nervous to go in. You reach over her and rap on the sticker covered wood with a firm knuckle. There’s no answer but you turn the knob and enter anyway.

The room is dark, lights off and curtains drawn. The only illumination comes from the device set up on the bedside table that projects stars and planets onto the ceiling. A balled-up form rests in the very corner of the bed, back to you, arms slung over the head.

“Is she crying?” Claire whispers. Well, her version of whispering. Which was just her regular speaking volume but slower.

“No.” Lia grinds out. She twists herself around so you can see her face. She wasn’t crying but she surely had been if the red of her eyes were evidence enough.

You make your way over to the bed, posting yourself up against the headboard. Claire opts to sit at the bottom, gazing up at the light show.

“Want to tell me what happened at school today?”

“Can I sit in your lap?”

Despite the circumstances a warm fuzzy feeling seeps throughout your chest, always happy to indulge in some physical affection. Lia is still quite small for her age. She crawls over your legs and slots her body against yours, burrowing as close as she can manage, sticking her nose into the material of your shirt and inhaling deeply. Her dark hair tickles your face. Not long enough for a scrunchy and too short for much other styling. It sticks up in amusing ends from sweat.

Claire must feel left out because she wraps a crummy hand around your socked foot.

“Daddy’s disappointed in me,” her voice is hoarse and wobbly. She keeps her eyes shut tight while speaking, nose scrunched.

“He’s not, he’s just…unsettled, stressed maybe.”

“Is there a difference?”

To an eight-year-old there might not be.

“Daddy was yelling” comes a whisper snaking up from the end of the bed.

“Be quiet Claire!” Lia tries to shoo the younger girl out of her room but she refuses to go.

“Loudly.” She continues “His face was all red.”

You fight a giggle “Eat your bread Claire bear.”

“Furious” she finishes around the last mouthful of her treat. She’s always been your chatty baby, forever excited for new vocabulary words.

You return your full attention to Amelia “Tell mom what happened bug.”

She doesn’t start immediately, instead relishing in the feeling of your fingers combing through her damp hair for a while. When she does start speaking the story is much worse than you thought it would be.

The boys in class have been bothering her for the last few months.

One in particular who sits directly behind her by the name of Isaac. He is the reason, she confesses, for originally wanting to cut her hair short despite loving the lack of inches now. It was in hopes of deterring him from yanking it by handfuls.

They apparently dislike her always trying to hang around with them and not the girls. Girls belonged with girls and boys belonged with boys as it went. Not allowed to mix. Cooties too easily spread. 

They took to stuffing things down the back of her shirt. Swiping her glasses off her face. Shoving her in the lunch line. Ripping the pages out of her notebooks. Pouring glue in her chair. Scratching mean names into her desk. Cornering her during recess while the teachers were distracted and pulling her pants down in front of everyone. Because if she wouldn’t play with the girls then she must be a boy but if she was a boy then they'd need proof. 

She tried to tell her homeroom teacher when it first started but the woman didn’t believe her because Isaac is a top student and his family name stood proud on the sign outside of the new gym complex. She must have done something to him to earn such treatment.

“Did you go to your father?”

Lia shakes her head “I started to once but he just told me to try sticking with the girls more.”

“What about me? I thought we didn’t keep secrets between us.”

“You always tell me to be brave and stick up for myself if someone bothers me. I was trying to build up the courage but—” she dissolves into a low whine, struggling to finish around her tears. “I don’t think Daddy likes me.”

Claires eyebrows furrow. Up until then you didn’t think the girl had even been listening “Why would you say that!” she shouts, looking seconds away from bursting into tears herself.

You’re quick to intervene “She doesn’t mean it. Your big sister is just really sad right now.”

“No, I mean it!” Lia insists, sitting up to rub at her eyes “He doesn’t like me! He complains about everything I do!” her head bobbles from side to side as she lists “Sit more lady like. Why don’t you wear any of the dresses grandma bought you. Why don’t you do ballet instead of soccer. Why don’t you grow your hair out like the other girls. Why don’t you have any girl friends”

You take her hands into yours, they’re cold. You feel unprepared to deal with her emotions, she’s so young to even be ruminating over such things. All you want to do is ease her heartache, as her mother. An adult in her life who should have all the answers, but has no clue where to start. What would be saying too much and what would be too little. “Oh, my love, your father had a really hard time growing up with his own dad. He was really strict with him. That’s no excuse for him to take it out on you, but I know he loves you very much”

She deflates back onto your chest “Yeah, but he doesn’t like me.”

She finishes the story. 

It was recess. She was climbing up onto the monkey bars and about to go across when Isaac caught her pant leg and tried to yank them down. On instinct she went to kick him off and accidentally struck him in the face.

“I didn’t mean to break his nose. Swear.”

Never in a million years would you think her capable of intentionally hurting some. You placate her with a kiss on the forehead anyway “how about you and mom go out for a treat? Huh? Just the two of us?”

She sniffles in contemplation “Ice cream?”

“Anything you want.”

“Can I come?” Claire crawls her way up to the headboard.

“I’ll bring you back some, but Lia’s had a very bad day and that means what?”

“She needs mommy time?”

“Exactly.”

You ease said girl out of your lap gently, laying her out on the pillows, and promising to be back in five minutes. Then you’d go for her treat.

On your way out of the room you notice Claire scooting closer. She sticks her pointer finger right in her sisters’ face. “Your eyes are puffy.”

The aggravated “Claire!” follows you down the stairs.

In the living room Sirius and Emmy sit in comfortable silence, your husband bouncing the now cheerful baby on his knee. His neck nearly snaps at your approach. Eyes already glassy with regret.

“Is she terribly upset?”

“Heartbroken more like” you say, not bothering to sugarcoat it for him “she thinks you don’t like her.”

He lowers his head in shameful anguish when you sit beside him. “I just, she’s so much like me when I was young.” No friends his own gender. Only interested in things typically deemed non-conforming “the things I went through in school, at home, it pains me to imagine that happening to her.”

How much had she told him of the bullying you wonder and why had he kept it from you. You'd been there for so much of his own struggle that it honestly hurts your feelings that he’d allowed himself to spiral so much without seeking you out. The number of times he showed up on your doorstep in the wee hours of the morning. The cuts and bruises you’d tended, caused over simplicities like nail polish, the length of his hair, the music he listened to. The way he dressed, acted, spoke. 

 “Ok, but you can’t just force her to change who she is in the name of protecting her. Just because she isn’t the girliest girl out there doesn’t give anyone the right to bully her, not even you. All you’re doing is teaching her that being herself is not ok. Then to go and blow up on her like that. It’s confusing Sirius. You know better.”

You don't say it, wouldn’t ever go that low, but you know he’s thinking it. He’s acting like his father.

Sirius sits with your words.

“Why did she hit him then?”

“She didn’t really. He tried to pull her pants down on the playset so she kicked out. It was an accident.”

“Pull her pants down?”

A fresh wave of anger rolls over his shoulders. You snatch Emmy from his grasp before planting a kiss onto his temple.

“No more of that. Go upstairs and talk to her before we leave.”

You’d get on him later for keeping secrets from you.

Sirius returns the kiss, lingering for a few seconds too long, pressing his nose into the fat of your cheek. He smells like peppermint.

“I love you.” Her murmurs. And you’re suddenly transported back to your childhood bedroom. The sun just creeping over the horizon and spilling through your window right onto his sleeping face. The lips so like Claires’, ears and brows so like Emersons’, freckles like Amelias’.  Hovering your finger over the bridge of his nose, skimming along his throat. Blowing gently at his thick lashes. Poking at the sliver of skin peeking out at his tummy where his shirt had risen up. When you’d fall asleep with him on the floor and always wake up to his breath on the back of your neck, legs tangled in bed with you. The fit of giggles sneaking him out the house before your parents woke up. 

“Love you too. Now go!”

You’re once again left with Emmy in the exact same place you’d started. He watches Sirius take the stairs two at a time before turning back to you, frown already forming. 

“And you my little man, i love you so much.”

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#373

“What the fuck is this I’m hearing about you?  My buddy Deputy Watson asked me why I have a faggot working for me?  He tells me that you have a record for sex in public bathrooms.  Is it true?

“Of course it is!  I can see it on your face.  Have the common decency of at least admitting it….  Jesus fuck!  You know when I hired you, I told you I didn’t want any drama.  And now I have to deal with this.  I can’t be thought of a sperm burper.  With my wife filing for divorce and living across the state at her sisters, people will start to think nasty shit about me once they find out that I have a fag working for me.

“You were recommended to us because you are a hard worker; you keep your head down.  You don’t drink and you don’t cavort around in town.  Now I know why. 

“Watson was telling me that you were caught once before at a rest stop in South Dakota getting cornholed.  He also said that the charges were dropped.  Lucky you.  So you must like sucking on random dick at some nasty assed bathroom.  What the fuck is the draw?

“Nothing to say?...  I want an answer….

“…You like to blow straight men?  Why would a straight man want to get blown by some fag when he can get it at home?... 

“…Watch your mouth!  The last time I got a blowjob has no bearing on this conversation.  You know damned well that Louise and I are going through a divorce.  I haven’t had anything in a long…  Wait a minute, are you looking to give me head?

“…Back to being silent…?

“Uh…

“Uh…

“Awww, fuck it….  I could go for some head.  You want it?...  No one will ever know that this happened, you got that?  Good.  Then get on your fucking knees. 

“I got a lot of skin….  God damn!  You are eager!  My wife makes me get hard first before I…  Oh fuck!  Oh man. 

“Fuck!  Watch your goddamned teeth!...  I will knock them out.  Trust me I will.  My dick may not be long, but it gets really fat.  Those teeth better know their place.

“Damn, not many women could deep throat me.  Fuck I will be using this mouth again.

“Fuck!  What did I tell you about your teeth? 

“Fuck you faggot!  You want me to hit you again, keep up with the teeth.  You hurt me, then I hurt you.  What do you have to say?...  Hunh?...

“Damn right you’re sorry.  Look up at me.  Open your mouth.  Let me feel your teeth….  Holy shit!  That’s some jagged teeth you have there. 

“I want you to make an appointment with your dentist.  I want him to grind them smooth.  You got that?  I pay for your dental, let me benefit from that.  And make that appointment as soon as possible.

“Look at me….  That slap means I’m serious about this.  Now get the fuck up.  You take men up your shitter?  Of course, you do.  Get out of those Levi’s. 

“A fucking jock strap?  You are such a fag.  Leave it on.  I’m not interested in what you have in front.

“It’s been years since I fucked an ass.  Most of the time it was to put a bitch into place.  You’ll be the first faggot, but it will be for the same damned reason. 

“Spread your legs further.  Damn.  That’s a pale ass.  Hold still….  Oooh.  You have been fucked before.  I can’t remember when my head went in so easy.  So I guess I don’t have to wait for you to adjust to me. 

“Right to the root!  Fuck your pussy is treating my cock so well.  Aw, shut up.  I don’t want to hear any goddamned complaints from you.  If you wanted more lube, you should have put more spit on my dick.  Next time think to do that.

“Now shut the fuck up.  I’m in the middle of fucking here….

“Your cunt knows how to take a pounding.  I like that.  I like that a lot….  Do that again.  Fuck, this is one talented cunt.  And it’s right here every day.  Yeah.  This cunt is going to be used going forward. 

“Fuck yeah.  I’m taking ownership of this cunt.  It’s mine.  You got that?...

“Answer me motherfucker.  Who’s cunt is this?

“Damned right.  You will give up other men.  It’s mine.  You understand faggot?

“…You better.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.  Get ready.  You gonna get flooded with a huge load.  Here it cums.  Here it goddamned cums!  Urg!  Urg!  Fuuuck.  Shit!

“Don’t fucking move.  Stay put.  Clamp down.

“Dammit faggot.  No wonder so many men use you like this.  Not anymore.  I wasn’t kidding when I said you are to give up other men.  That cunt is mine.  I don’t want any other man touching my property.  You got that faggot?...  You say, ‘Yes Sir!’

“That’s better.  You understand that I will be fucking it after we get done work every day?

“I’m one horny son of a bitch, a controlling one at that.  That’s why my wife is filing for a divorce.  You are going to be taking over her duties of taking my nut.  Let’s go up to the house so you can fix me some dinner. 

“No leave those Levi’s there.  You don’t deserve to wear pants.  The jock is all you need.  As I said before, I’m not interested in what you have up front.  In fact, it shouldn’t be any of your concern either. 

“Now get up to the house….  Goddamn, that’s a nice ass.  I don’t know if I will be able to make it through dinner without plowing that cunt and unloading a second time.  My dick can go all night, especially a cunt that treats my dick well.  That cunt will be so full by the end of the night.  Now get moving.”

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 ao3

Dustin gives Eddie ownership of the walkie. At some point, an agreement must have been made for Lucas and Max to stop talking on their channel, but Eddie isn’t aware of any such conversation having taken place. It feels like he has tunnel vision, the whole world narrowing down to the room, to the bed in the centre of it. To Steve. 

He changes frequencies constantly on the walkie, gritting his teeth against the static. Steve’s voice never comes through again, and his face is back to being eerily still, no expression. Blank. It’s an unwelcome reminder of Dustin’s past words: He looks... gone. 

Dustin leaves him alone late afternoon, saying he’ll ask Nancy to get in touch with Mike again, get an update on whoever this El is, her whereabouts. Eddie nods distractedly as he goes. 

He tries to keep playing the song, but the harshness of the static sets him on edge. His fingers can only push weakly against the guitar strings, the shittiest attempt at a chord position that he’s ever seen; and soon his hands are shaking too badly to even press the button on the casette player. Fucking pathetic. 

All at once, the static disappears. Eddie looks up at the absence of it, to find that Robin has turned the walkie off. 

She stares at him.

“What?” Eddie says, voice hoarse.

She doesn’t reply. Instead, she kneels down in front of him, a mirror image of Dustin. Painstakingly slow, she reaches out with one hand, as if expecting him to flinch; and Eddie thinks of himself in the boathouse, clutching onto that damned glass bottle like a lifeline, how he felt one touch away from losing it completely. 

This time, he’s able to catch his breath. Holds it. Breathes out. When Robin begins to uncurl his fingers from the neck of the guitar, he lets her without resistance. Then she carefully takes the full weight of the guitar from him, sets it aside.

“Look,” she says and nods at the heart monitor. Eddie follows her direction. He watches for a moment, then closes his eyes, listens to the slow, steady record of Steve’s pulse; and his breathing gradually follows the rhythm of each heartbeat. 

When he opens his eyes, Robin is smiling at him. 

“He’s still there,” she says. “He’s not gonna disappear if you take a break.”

A part of him wants to argue, wants to grab the guitar back and scream at her, no matter how cruel that might be. Chrissy, Patrick, Steve—they all died right in front of me, and I did nothing. Now I’ve got the chance to do something, save someone, and I can’t because, what, I’m fucking tired? I need to get a grip. But a larger part of him knows that he’s useless to Steve like this.

So he blows out a long, slow breath. Raises his eyes to the ceiling. Gives a tiny, reluctant nod.

Robin pulls up a chair next to him in response, then says, apropos of nothing, “I haven’t filled you in on the full Starcourt Experience.” 

Eddie tears his gaze away from Steve to blink at her in confusion. “Uh, no? Pretty sure you have, Buckley.”

She’d told Eddie about her summer at the mall while they were all travelling to the War Zone, a jaw-dropping tale that had Eddie looking around at the crew anew, with a far from infrequent thought: Oh, great, I’m the only normal one here.

Robin shifts so that she’s sitting side-on, leans back and hooks her feet over Eddie’s knees. There’s something both casual and sincere in the gesture, like they’ve been friends for years; Eddie doesn’t know if he’s worthy of it, yet Robin keeps smiling like he is. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t tell you the really important stuff,” she says, tilting her head forward like they’re gossiping in class.

And… she talks. 

She talks and talks and talks, gesturing wildly with her hands, and gives Eddie a rundown of what can only be described as ‘Steve’s greatest hits at Scoops Ahoy.’

There’s the time when, near delirious after a long weekend shift, Steve had started singing along to Material Girl as it blared over the mall speakers—and, when Robin made a show of announcing her presence, sure that he’d stop and pretend it never happened, he’d just kept going, adding stupid choreography as he mopped. 

All the times when he would give customers the bitchiest dead-eyed stare if they tried to enter the store before it had opened; when Robin would have to duck into the back so no-one saw her laughing.

Robin barely pauses to draw breath, so that the countless stories crowd Eddie’s head, leaving, for once, little room for worrying; and she must see that something within him has settled, if only for now, because she doesn’t stop him when he eventually picks up the guitar again. 

He doesn’t sing, just plays the melody as Robin keeps talking. She paints such a vivid picture that Eddie doesn’t want to interrupt, almost feels like he can see the ice-cream parlour despite never having set foot inside it—this unexpected haven within a neon monstrosity. Sees Robin catching Steve singing, sees her dubiousness melt away as he dances, using the mop as a prop. 

Eddie keeps strumming as Robin goes on, laughing quietly as she mimes Steve’s idiosyncrasies: running his fingers through his hair, how he’d open the drawer of money at the register with a little drumbeat, the secret eye roll he’d give Robin before having to serve someone particularly difficult.

One such anecdote is being shared, where the punchline is Steve finally snapping that, “This is Scoops Ahoy, ma’am, we can’t work miracles,” and both Robin and Eddie are giggling, despite—or perhaps because of everything; and Eddie looks up at just the right moment, because he—he sees—

Steve’s finger twitching.

It’s the first sign of life in hours.

Robin beams, gingerly prods the finger back. “’Bout time you showed up, dingus.”

Eddie feels a sudden sting in his eyes. He has to bite his lip to keep it together, to move on to the chorus without stopping.

Still, something must show on his face, because when Robin glances at him, she says, “Oh, Eddie,” with a gentle kindness he can’t help but feel he doesn’t deserve. But you’ve known him longer. I’ve got no right to…

When the song is over, Robin carefully pries the guitar from him again, and somewhere along the way, Eddie finds that they’re holding hands. They don’t let go for a long time.

-

Eddie tries to return the walkie to Dustin, but he doesn’t tune back in to his usual channel, doesn’t even turn it on. Instead he takes the seat that had been Robin’s, tilts his head back, eyes ever so slightly unfocused. Eddie recognises the look from Hellfire, whenever Dustin needed to think deeply about his character’s next move—and it feels like such a strange thing to remember now, as if from another world entirely. Eddie supposes that’s true.

“I’m still mad at you,” Dustin says suddenly. 

Eddie nods, half to himself—Dustin looks away. Guilt sits sour in his stomach; the sound of Dustin’s desperate screams as he drove away has never once left him.

“That’s… that’s fair,” he says, quiet. He moves forward a little in his seat, knocking his foot gently against Dustin’s. “I’m… shit, Dustin, I know I keep saying it, but I’m so sorry.” 

It still feels like it’s useless to say, but it’s honest, at least. There are a number of times where Wayne has decided to shield him from certain things over the years; and though Eddie had understood why, that had never stopped him from feeling bitter about it. Cheated.

“I’m mad at both of you,” Dustin clarifies. His eyes dart over to Steve then away again, as if he’s already beating himself up for even thinking it. He pushes back against Eddie’s foot until the sole of his sneaker is pressing against Eddie’s, then draws his own foot back, as if suddenly out of energy.

When Dustin finally looks at him, Eddie offers an apologetic smile. “He…” He glances over at Steve before meeting Dustin’s gaze again. “He made me promise,” he says weakly.

Dustin sighs; it’s resigned, world-weary. “Yeah, I figured.” When he speaks again, his voice sounds strained, rising almost like he’s asking a question. “I think I knew? Like, before all of…” This time, he knocks Eddie’s foot first. “It’s not exactly… he has a sorta… track record, I mean.” 

Eddie sighs, too. “Yeah man, I figured,” he echoes. 

“He made everything… God, I don’t know. He made it,” and Dustin gestures vaguely with his hands, “he made it easy. Easy to, like, laugh about or… Not forget the danger, that’s… I just… It was weird, after the mall, the rest of the summer…” 

Dustin trails off again, and Eddie tries to fill in the blanks as best he can. 

“We didn’t really talk about it,” Dustin continues. “He came to pick me up from Mike’s one day, and his face was still, uh, not great, but he just made this super corny joke about—ugh, I can’t even remember but, Eddie, it was so embarrassing, I know that for sure—”

But the wobble in Dustin’s voice tells a different story. 

“And he… he was singing along to the radio, and I—I just thought that I didn’t want him to—to save us, or be badass or cool or whatever the fuck he’s still hung up about from high school, I just—wanted him to be there.”

I know, Eddie thinks, because he does; because it’s so clear now, how much of a big deal Steve is to Dustin, and Eddie kind of wants to smack his past self who sneered when Steve graduated and he didn’t, and thought bet King Steve still thinks he’s hot shit. 

He reaches forward and squeezes Dustin’s knee. “We’ll get him back.” 

Dustin nods and scrubs briefly at his eyes. “I think I thought I could stop it,” he says. “If I just—if I stayed with…”

Eddie shakes his head. “He wouldn’t have let you,” he finds himself saying again. It’s obvious that Steve would have rather died than let anything happen to Dustin. Eddie can hardly fault him for that.  

“Yeah,” Dustin says, and he laughs a little. He sounds tired. “I know.” 

-

It’s about 9pm when Dustin says it, watching from the window for a sight of his mom’s car turning into the hospital parking lot. “Um, Eddie? I need you to just—check I’m not hallucinating or something.”

Eddie’s heart skips a beat. “What?”

“Shit.” Dustin waves his arms frantically, shaking his head. “Not like that! Just—” He taps at the window. “This guy looked really like Hopper.” 

Like, died in the ‘mall fire’ Chief Hopper? Eddie thinks, still not quite recovered from the scare. He goes to the window, follows the direction in which Dustin is pointing. “What the fuck.”

-

The girl looks about Dustin’s age. Her hair is cut very short, and when they are left alone in Steve’s hospital room, she looks at Eddie intensely. 

“You are Eddie Munson,” she says with a calming certainty.

Eddie nods, but he thinks he would have gone along with it no matter what she had said; she could have told him he was Jack the Ripper reincarnated with the same confidence and he would’ve said, Well, shit, if you say so.

“My name is El,” she adds simply. “I’m here to help.” 

Eddie stares at her. Some of Steve’s words come back to him, when he was eating fucking cereal and trying to pretend like he had even a bit of control over whatever his life even was now. 

“What, like a superhero?”

And the kid beams. “Exactly.”

-

Dustin has left Eddie the walkie again, and El turns it on so the static is loud. 

“You think you can… find him?” Eddie says.

“Yes,” El says. Again, it sounds like it’s a breeze the way she says it, like it’s nothing. “Henry is dead. I tried to…” She bites her lip; it’s only now that she appears to falter. “ I tried to bring Steve back but I—I’m sorry. I was… tired.”

Eddie privately thinks she’s gone to the Steve Harrington School of Downplaying.

“Jesus, his pulse,” he whispers. “That was you?”

El nods. “I tried to—it was all I could—”

“Fucking Christ—sorry,” Eddie says, bites back more curses, more prayers. “Thank you.”

She smiles—and God, she’s just a girl, Eddie thinks, why was this—why was any of it—thrust upon her?

El places a scarf over her eyes like a blindfold without explanation. The static from the radio gets even louder.

And they wait.

“He’s not in The Upside Down,” El says. “It’s like…” She stretches out both arms, lays one hand flat. Then, she puts her other hand slightly underneath the first. “The Upside Down is the floor. We’re here.” She wiggles the fingers of the highest hand. “And Steve is here.” She wiggles the hand that’s slightly below the other. “He’s stuck.” El’s nose scrunches. “Like going halfway through a Gate.”

Eddie plays My Little Town via the tape while they keep waiting. The song competes with the noise from the walkie.

The Gate comparison leads to El telling him that The Upside Down is slowly becoming sealed off from Hawkins after Henry’s death. Eddie thinks of Wayne seemingly not noticing the gaping split in the world at the trailer, thinks suddenly of an English class, of ‘Not with a bang but a whimper,’—and wonders if that is how the world is saved, too.  

Then El stiffens. “Steve?”

Eddie holds his breath. An explosion of static, but it somehow, just for a second, sounds joyful.

El smiles. “Hi. I’m okay. Are you…?”

She goes quiet for a long moment. Her smile fades, but Eddie is relieved to find not a trace of fear on her face.

“He says that he’s… sorry,” she says slowly. “For being… slow?”

“Oh my god, Steve, shut the fuck up with your fucking apologies,” Eddie says without thinking.

El giggles. “I don’t think I should tell him that.” There’s a pause, and she giggles again. “He says that he can guess what you said.”

The tape has moved on to the next song, so Eddie hurriedly makes to wind it back. El stops him.

“Steve says that this is better,” she says. She briefly mimes strumming a guitar. “He can tell that it’s you. It makes a… clearer path for him to follow.”

In his haste to play the guitar, Eddie fumbles the opening notes completely; he swears that he can hear the static shift into something that resembles a far-off laugh.

-

“He’s saying sorry again,” El says, once Eddie has finished singing. “He’s tired.”

“That’s…” Eddie swallows. “Tell him that’s okay. Please.”

She does. Then she asks for the time.

Eddie glances at the clock on the wall. “Nearly ten.” 

“Steve’s asking if you can try again,” El says, “in an hour.” 

“Yeah, ’course I will,” Eddie says, and his heart twists a bit at the thought that Steve must have phrased it like a question rather than a certainty.

“Goodbye, Steve,” El says softly. “You’re almost home.”

As she removes the scarf, Eddie is alarmed to discover that her nose is bleeding.

“Shit, kid, you okay? Should I call for—?”

But she shakes her head. “It just happens, it’s all right.” She rubs at her temples for a bit, and says, “Sorry, I had to stop. I was getting tired, too.”

“You’re good, just—take it easy,” Eddie insists, still watching with concern as she wipes her nose with her scarf.

“I’m really okay,” El says. “Compared to everything else, finding Steve was…” She pauses, then enunciates carefully: “Easy as shit.”

She says it like she’s only ever heard it in a movie, like she’s trying it on for size.

Eddie decides right then and there that he adores her.

-

“I like your hair,” El says suddenly. Eddie had got her a drink from the vending machine, worried that she’d keel over or something as soon as he looked away. “It’s very pretty.”

Eddie smiles. “Thanks.”

“My hair used to be long.” There’s a melancholy tinge to her words that has Eddie listening intently. “I think longer than yours? But I don’t know.” And she grins, small but genuine. “Maybe I would have won.”

“This took me years,” Eddie says and he goes ham on the delivery to make her laugh, tosses back his head dramatically. “I bet you could beat me again, in a few months.”

El beams. Then she pauses, grows serious. “I recognised you,” she says slowly, “from Steve’s… when he was running. He had to—to hide in memories, and—”

“Hey, hey, stop,” Eddie says quickly, but he keeps his voice gentle. Because no matter how much he’s burning to know, he can only think of what he’d want if the situation were reversed and…

“That’s in Steve’s head, okay? That… that should be just for him.”

El nods with a heaviness that suggests she more than understands.

-

Eddie is pushing his luck, he knows it. It’s already past 11, and he’s sung through the song twice, with hardly a break; this time there was minimal change on Steve’s heart monitor.

Now he’s playing the guitar as quietly as possible to avoid reproach.

“Hey, Harrington,” he says mid-strum, makes his voice go low and teasing like they’re still at school together, like they’ve just caught each other’s eyes in the cafeteria. “Wanna know a secret?”

For a moment, he tries to imagine Steve smirking back, rolling his eyes maybe… but then he realises that he doesn’t know how Steve would react, not really. He didn’t even get the chance to process Steve’s response to “Harrington’s got her, dontcha big boy?”—a stupid aside, but at the time he couldn’t help himself; he felt giddy, still almost certain that they were careening towards disaster, but that they might as well have some fun along the way.

I want more time. I want to know you more, Steve Harrington.

“I saw you once, after Hellfire,” Eddie murmurs. “Never said. I was in my van. You were picking up Henderson, and…” He sighs, leans closer, watches the rise and fall of Steve’s chest. “I was waiting for it, you know? Waiting for you to roll your eyes and act all put upon. I’ve seen what it’s like when folks are… tolerated, right?” He goes quiet for a few bars of music, thoughtful. “But that never happened. Couldn’t hear whatever the hell it was you were saying, but Henderson was talking your ear off and you were smiling, and—Christ, man, all I could think was he must really love this kid.” Eddie laughs in self-deprecation. “Didn’t really know what to do with it, honestly. Kinda pretended to forget about it. Didn’t want the fucking ‘Munson Doctrine’ to be bullshit just yet, I guess.”

He finishes the song without saying anything more; his hand falls on the bed and he stifles a yawn, then starts when he feels…

Steve’s finger tapping on the back of his hand. Slow, deliberate. Almost as if he’d be drumming his fingers if he could. Eddie searches, but Steve’s face is placid.

“You’re a stubborn son of a bitch, huh, Harrington?”

He doesn’t want to pull away from Steve’s touch, so he puts the guitar down and sings without it. Keeps his voice quiet but steady. Just for Steve.

And just as he reaches, “In my little town, I never meant nothing, I was just my father’s son,” he hears it.

Steve’s heart rate is picking up.

“Oh, God,” Eddie says, torn between gripping Steve’s hand and calling for help. “Steve, it’s okay, you’re—”

And then he stops.

Because Steve’s eyes are opening, fatigued but lucid; and Eddie can catch a tiny smile beneath his mask.

And Eddie feels Steve’s finger move, tracing a pattern across his palm. He laughs through an abrupt sob when he realises what it is.

Letters.

Hi.

[mossy-green-aka-ferrythem]

You know... I have thought a lot about Messmer.

Whether or not he ever left the Realm of Shadow, what matters is that one must think about how deeply heartbroken he must have been by his banishment.

Even speculation as to whether or not he ever saw Leyndell adds to this because imagine. Your mother, your guiding light, creates her perfect, shining, Golden Order, and she looks at you and decided that you are not in it. You will never be in it. Because you stand as a testament to her mistakes. Even though you were a favorite of her's, the serpent that writhes within you is her shadow, and as her son, that serpent has become something that defines you. It has defined you from day one. From the very moment you carried out her graceless purge, you have fully made yourself a son of Queen Marika the Eternal, as that is what Marika has come to embody. Any warmth that was within her instead shines out in a hollow facade, and with that facade, comes the shadow that shows the truth. The truth being you, Messmer.

Messmer is such a fascinating character. He clearly looks up to Marika so much. After all, she is the woman that defined his entire existence. He was most likely the closest to Marika out of all of her children, and his abandonment set an example. I cannot think of any other example of any of the demigods that personally interacted with Marika, only hearing her name echoed through legend. Only candidate I can think of is Godwyn and... well we all know what happened to him.

Anyways Messmer hits close to home because like. He's such a gloomy figure. The dungeon where you find him as a boss, Shadow Keep, is so extremely desolate throughout, even the research hall feels deeply depressing and vacuous. When you find him, he is in the dark, his serpent and flame writhing within him, sitting by a statue of his Mother.

Now I feel as though my thoughts aren't fully formed right now, but god. The dynamic between Messmer and the Tarnished really gets me. Think of it. Marika, someone who represents a golden, holy light that shunned him for his Gracelessness, has summoned you, a Tarnished, bereft of Grace, to succeed her and become Elden Lord. Think of it. How unfair that is to him. Messmer, son of Queen Marika, made to become a symbol of fear, someone truly unforgivable, like his own Mother, only for her to cast him away for that curse that dwelled within him, that serpent at the base of everything, her deep sin, so she can create her Golden Order, and be at peace knowing that her shadow is hidden away, beneath her, suppressed. Banished, completely forgotten, wiped from every historical record, not a single thing in The Lands Between that list his name. Him, made by her to be forgotten, being uncovered again by you, the Tarnished, someone from outside the Land of Shadow, and just. It is just such a shock to Messmer that such a thing happened. That his Mother's interest lies in a figure that in some ways, is not dissimilar from him. It must just feel so unfair. He's shorn of light, a shadow, abandoned by Marika. While you. You are Tarnished, without Grace, only guided by it, and Marika has chosen you, and others like you... and not him. I believe his commentary about his purpose, him embracing you with his flame, is out of envy, out of him trying to talk from a high position he doesn't have. All of this climaxes with his second phase, where he finally rips out his Mother's seal, and embraces oblivion. He stops living a lie. He realizes who he is. Cursed by shadow, fallen down into oblivion, merely a coiling, base serpent, embodying vice. Embodying all his cruelty, all of it completely taking him over.

All of this means that the only worlds he can say as the last of his life leaves him, are these words that just say it all.

"Mother... Marika...

A curse...upon thee..."

His mothers love has long since left him, abandoned him, and this is all he had left, until the end, where he finally realizes everything.

[love-for-faeries-go-burrrr]

NSFW Alphabet with Rocket Raccoon

Warning: Sexual Alphabet, Explicit, Kinks & More.

Asks are Open! (Please I need Inspo / knowing people want to see my writing)

(tagged a few Rocket writers who I thought may enjoy at the bottom can be removed if asked + can add people to a taglist if requested)

A = After Care: Will do anything and everything you need to make you feel cared for. Maybe even bandage you up if he dug his claws into your skin too hard. Would love to just lay on your chest after.

B = Body Part: Rocket's favorite body part is your hands, just adores them, his little paws in your hands? Or seeing you use your hands while giving him a blow/hand job? Perfect, bonus points if you keep them manicured or painted a color reminding you of him.

C = Cum: Breeding Kink, boy loves to cum inside you, but always asks where you want it before he cums. You must wait for permission to cum, but he won't make you wait too long.

D = Dirty Secret: When tinkering with his machines, sometimes he imagines making machines he can use on you. Would definitely get a certain idea and note it down for later, hell, even stop what hes doing and start creating a machine for your pleasure as he's rock hard.

E = Experience: Rocket's had some lovers but it was never personal, with you it's different, he wants you to feel how much he loves you, he wants to degrade then praise you over and over so you know how amazing you are but also know you're his.

F = Favorite Position: Pretzel Dip, hear me out, he gets to see your breasts bounce up and down, your face, and dig his claws into your thigh & ass as he slams into you? The man already jerked off just to the idea of it.

G = Goofy: Rocket just has some moments in between degrading and praising you, "Fuck... you really are so fucking hot princess" and he just has a smile to himself at how lucky he is. Maybe even laugh thinking about people before who have hit on you, imagine them seeing you now a sloppy mess beneath him.

H = Hair: Rocket knows he has that 'rugged' look, but if he knows he's definitely getting it from you tonight? Dude is taking the cleanest shower of his life, brushing out that tail if you've made a comment about it before, would take hella pride in his appearance. Or if you like him 'dirtier' he'd wear his signature blue cut-off and fuck you until you can't stand.

I = Intimacy: You have this raccoon's full attention, boy will hold back his orgasms to ensure you ride out yours first. He will study your body, the way you react even with the smallest reactions, the way your lips twitch when he flips your clit, he will know what makes you go crazy in no time.

J = Jack Off: Anything reminds you of him, a smell similar to your perfume, if he ever had a voice recording of yours even if you aren't saying anything sexual he'll use it to pleasure himself. The longer in between seeing you, the more he jerks off missing you, and the rougher you'll be handled next time.

K = Kink: Pain Kink, graphic to an extent, will stop if you truly don't want it but wants to tie you up, slap your ass, nip at your collarbone, claw at your ass. Your sounds of pain mixed with pleasure drive him crazy. Always loves to overstimulate you, where you can barely breathe because your body is trembling from the pleasure.

L = Location: Anywhere, in an alleyway, in the captain's seat, on the kitchen table when the other guardians are gone. Love's to know later on when he walks by and looks at a piece of furniture and can pinpoint how he made you cum there.

M =Motivation: If you're shy or bold about it, either response will rile him up. Shy about it? Man will have you moaning so loud the neighborhood knows you. Bold about it? You'll be put in your place and begging to be able to cum.

N = No: You cannot be in power and tie him up, brings back memories of feeling powerless.

O = Oral: Cunnilingus, Anilingus, Rocket is a pro at all of them the combo of his quick fingers with his rather long and agile tongue is a recipe for constant orgasms. Prefer's to give because of how you squirm but adores if you give because sometimes bro just needs to be reminded he can be cared for too.

P = Pace: Fast, always trying to give you that high, but loves to go agonizingly slow whenever you are close, must remind you that he can give you the high only if you deserve it.

Q = Quickie: Definitely down for it, especially if you are the one who initiates it. "You're my whore" he whispers in your ear as he fucks you in the shared shower. Hearing Drax bang at the door asking whos in there, he gets an "I'll be done in a minute" response as Rocket repositions you and shoves his cock down your throat to fuck face you.

R = Risk: Rocket is willing to try almost anything you want, where you want it, as long as he always has some sort of power in the situation.

S = Stamina: You always finish first, on the rare occasion you don't you won't even know, Rocket will just grin and fuck you harder, refusing to give you the satisfaction of knowing you made him cum first. If you call him out on it you get a simple "You're dreamin princess..." as he shoves your face into the bed and makes you squirm.

T = Toys: Will use anything and everything you want, but if his dick feels ignored he will take that vibrator out of you so fast and slam himself inside of you so you do not forget who truly owns you. Use's toys to his advantage but can be cocky and want to pleasure you more than they do.

U = Unfair: Rocket will bring you to the absolute edge of an orgasm and watch the stars leave your eyes as he pulls out, once he gets a good enough protest and you beg good enough, “Please Rocket…please fuck me, I need it, I need you!” he'll slam right back into you, and make your whole body quiver as you have the Galaxy in your eyes.

V = Volume: Verbal to a degree, gives small whispers of praise or degradants when needed, but mostly just wants to hear you moan for him. Whisper in his ear how bad you want it and he might just let you cum without protest.

W = Wild Card: Jack offs to the idea of you sucking him off in his pilot seat at night when everyone is asleep. Looking at your beautiful eyes as you move up and down his cock, if you actually fulfilled this fantasy he would basically pull out a wedding ring.

Bonus: if you're a top he'd adore you trying to gain power over him, to him it's cute to see you try so hard to be the sole pleasure giver.

X = X-Ray: A good 5-6 inches, the average human size, but for someone like him? That means he's packing big, he also knows how to use it. (I know y’all saw it in that jumpsuit in GOTG 1, if that’s him on soft? Bro’s definitely packing)

Y = Yearning: Every time you have sex he thinks of how next time he will do it better, how he will make you beg or squirm for it more. As I said, will be randomly fixing machines and getting new toy ideas on how to pleasure you and have his name rolling off your tongue.

Z = zzz: A definite cuddler, needs to be a little spoon after (can try being bigger but with the size difference, it's easier if you big spoon) and won't fall asleep until you do.

Bonus points if after you let him just lay on your naked body, flicking your nipples gently as he admits you did a good job taking him.

taglist: @raccoonfallsharder @aliasrocket @alylee-s @oolongteaboba (I can remove y'all if needed I personally love your work and wanted y'alls thoughts)

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Eat The Acid II

Summary: It had been 14 months since the fight, the worst 14 months of her life and finally she thought now was the right time to share her side of the story but all she can think about is the return of CM Punk at survivor series not even 48 hrs ago. What happens when she reminds him of the fact he's going back to a promotion that fired him on their wedding day?

Word count: 2,538

Warnings include: Swearing, violence, toxic relationships, manipulation and those kinds of things 

Part 1 Part 3 Main Masterlist CM Punk Masterlist

Inspired by "Eat The Acid" by Kesha

Survivor series 

I knew I would keep quiet when all of the news of what happened at All Out went public. I knew I would say something stupid or let my emotions get the best of me. I can’t believe I stayed out of it for over a year, this was me breaking my silence. Phill and I had filed for divorce months ago, only now getting the paperwork started. I felt anxious as I sat in the chair, it reminded me of the one that got thrown during the fight. Renee Paquette invited me on her podcast to talk about my career and how things were going. She knew about the divorce before Phill got served so with my permission we would talk about the situation. Figuring it had been the right time to finally hear my side of the story. At this point everyone knew, in fact they couldn't stop talking about it. Dying to know my thoughts, feeling bad for me after what happened. We both knew what could happen, how this would backfire, but I told myself I would never speak bad about Phill, sure he was my ex-husband but I could never say the things he said about me, about him. 

“So Y/n, I know you have some things you would like to get off your chest” Renee said “The floor is yours” 

I felt my heart rate increase, I grew anxious. It wasn’t like this was a live recording, this was me and Renee in the comfort of her and Jon’s home. Sitting with two microphones, creating a recording we could do multiple takes of or even cut things out. I looked at Renee and she gave me a comforting smile, assuring me things would be ok. 

“So, I’m sure by now you must have heard that CM Punk and I are getting a divorce” I knew we were getting divorced, but every time I said it outloud my mind couldn't comprehend that it was real. “This was a really hard decision but I really didn’t know what else to do Renee. I tried, I tried so hard…I..I just can’t do it anymore. It’s unfortunate because I really loved Phill and a part of me will always still love him. The whole situation ruined my family, I can’t even look at him the same after what happened. I really didn’t want to get a divorce but it was the best option.” 

I looked to Renee who said nothing, offering a warm smile encouraging me to continue but I couldn't focus. All I could think about was the event that took place less than 48 hours ago.

I woke up feeling like I got hit by a bus then rolled over by a train. My body was sore, I wrestled Full Gear a few days prior and felt fine despite having one of the most grueling fights of my career. It wasn’t until I woke up Thursday morning after I wrestled on Dynamite the night before that I felt it. It was weird walking up in Chicago alone, I spent many years here with Phill, it just felt wrong without him. I knew survivor series would be happening in a few days, finding it funny how AEW and WWE were both in Chicago less than 3 days apart. I decided to stay the week in Chicago wanting to catch up with old friends I haven’t seen in years.

Half asleep and in pain I heard my phone ring. After struggling to find it, lost in the mess that was my hotel room I answered the call half asleep, not even bothering to see who it was before I picked it up. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi” the voice on the other line was soft, so quiet that I almost didn’t hear the response 

“Who is this?” I responded, climbing back into the warm sheets 

“It’s me” the voice said a bit louder this time 

“Oh hi, Phill. What’s up?” I asked him, oddly calm, almost like nothing happened between us

“I need to talk to you, It’s important” He said quietly 

I didn’t know what was going on but I knew it must have been important. “Is everything alright?” I asked 

“Can you stop by sometime today, this is an in person type of conversation” I agreed to his offer, deciding to go to our once shared Chicago home to figure out what was going on. 

***

I stood on the steps of our once shared home, debating whether or not to ring the doorbell. It felt weird, like this was a foreign space despite all of the memories I’ve had here. When I entered the home I noticed it looked the same as it did the last time I was here. The only thing different was my missing items. I sat down on the couch agreeing to a coffee as I watched a very anxious Phill Brooks make two coffees. “So, tell me what’s bothering you” I told him honestly as I grabbed the mug from his hands, placing it on a handmade coaster I made years ago. A smile on my face noticing he kept it. “I’m coming back” was all he said and I knew exactly what he meant.

I didn’t know what to say, my throat was dry, my brain unable to form a thought. “No one knows, only Hunter and I know. I thought you should know about it and in person” He said softly trying to read the non existing expression on my face. He didn’t say anything waiting for me to speak knowing how I can struggle with expressing my emotions. 

“I don’t know what to say. How is this even possible?” I asked unable to comprehend how after everything he would return to a promotion that made him want to kill himself. “I remember when they fired you on our wedding day. Do you remember that, how that made you feel? How you swore to never wrestle again, never mind return to the enemy? You shit on WWE for years, not even six months ago you were talking about how horrible that place is and now you're coming back?” 

“I can’t believe it either love, if Hunter and I can make up I have hope that we might be able to make things right. I promise I will explain everything but I don’t even know what’s going on.  I know you don’t love me and that’s fine but I just thought you should know about it”

I could feel the tears fall from my face, I didn’t know why I was crying but I was. I felt betrayed, I felt like this was personal even though I knew it wasn’t. I had been by his side for the past 10 years. I remember when he told me he was miserable at work, I remember when he called me in the middle of the night when I was in Japan to tell me about the pipe bomb he dropped. I remember how they fired him moments after we said I do, I remember being by his side when he told me he wanted to start UFC, I remember being so proud of him despite his loss, I remember the tears we shared as I mended his wounds. I remember when he told me he wanted to start wrestling again, I was by his side through his whole stint in AEW. So hearing he was going back to a company that almost killed him, killed me, feeling like I had been living a lie. 

All I wanted to do was cry, over what I’m not sure exactly. Maybe it was the return, maybe it was about the fight, maybe it was the fact that he didn’t fight for us. I felt like a small child, I just wanted to cry and have Phill hold me like how he used to but that was wrong. That was then and this is now, when I looked at the man who sat across from me I saw the old Phill. Something inside him had changed, his hair starting to grow out, the gray in his beard returning, the love in his eyes. This was the man I fell in love with. 

I could tell that he wanted to hug me, he still knew me and he knew what I needed, he always did. He didn’t know what to do so I did it for him. “Can I have a hug?” I asked him softly ashamed of how vulnerable I was. “Of course love”

We stayed like that for a while, holding each other in a loving embrace, in a comfortable silence, neither one of us wanting to let go but knowing it was wrong. There was something so comforting about it, being back in the place I called home, with the man I onced loved, lying on an old couch that was falling apart but neither of us wanted to replace. It was like old times, I felt at peace, I was scared, terrified but this told me that things would be okay. 

Phill was the first to break the silence “You have no idea how much I missed this” he said softly as he began to draw shapes on my back, something that never failed to calm me. If anything it made things worse, it was too much. Everything felt too normal. He must have noticed that I had gotten more upset as he let go. “I’m sorry, this is too much isn’t it?” he asked. I didn’t respond. 

“What’s wrong Y/n?” He knew I was thinking about something. “What if I made a mistake?” I told him truthfully. To be quite honest up until this very moment I was still mad at him. 

“This doesn’t feel real Phill. Up until half an hr ago I still hated you but us sitting here in a home we used to share, this old couch, fuck you even kept all of my artwork. This feels too normal. You know that things can never go back to the way they were, I’m sorry but I can’t forget that fight. Do you even realize the long lasting effects that has left on me and everyone involved. You know I don’t care about that Perry one, you know that I thought he deserved it but for god sakes Phillip I watched you beat the shit out of my own brothers. There is something about this that feels too good to be true. It feels wrong, I miss you, I miss you so much, but I also hate you so much that I fucken love you. You just had to fight The Elite, why not The Dark Order or JAS, why me? Why after 10 years of loving it is all being thrown away after a silly little fight you started?” 

With every word I said I could see the guilt in his eyes, it was almost like he wanted to cry but didn’t want to show the vulnerability. “My love, I have tried everything to make things right, I know neither of us truly want this divorce but like you said it’s what's best. I’m sorry I didn’t fight hard enough for us, I thought it would have made things worse but by me doing nothing created damage I can never repair. If it means anything I will personally apologize to both Matt, Nick and Kenny, fuck I’ll even apologize to your dad. I know he always hated me”

“What about Adam?” I cut him off “This whole thing started over your hatred for him. You never once apologized to him.  Did you see his match with Swerve? That’s what he has to do to get the fans back behind him after you destroyed that cowboys career for no reason” 

“Y/n?......Y/n?.... You alright?” Renee called out, breaking me from my trance 

“Oh yeah I’m fine. Just thinking” I responded 

“We can wait, we don’t have to do this now. I know there’s alot going on” She told me reassuringly 

“I’m just still trying to process everything that has happened Renee” I told her as I looked at the grandfather clock that sat across from me reading 7:40 pm. “Raw’s on soon, do you think I should watch it, see what he has to say?” I asked Renee as I began nervously twisting my hair. 

“It’s up to you. I don’t want to be rude when I say this or anything but we both know he will probably talk shit about everyone during whatever it is that he has to say” Renee was right, Punk had a thing for shitting on his former employers and friends, I know this time would be no different. Knowing that The CM Punk would be on Raw tonight just felt weird, it was almost 10 years since he was fired. Even though I knew about his return it was way different hearing him say it then seeing it with my own two eyes. 

Since I  knew about the return, why was I in such shock once I heard his theme play. It was indeed real, the fans going crazy as the impossible was made possible. Chicago's son was home, home in the WWE almost 10 years later. My emotions were all over the place, on one hand I was excited, so proud of him like I always would be. The other part was scared, scared of the impact this would have on AEW, sure ratings were down but how could you compete with the return of Randy Orton and CM Punk in the same night. Part of me felt betrayed, after everything I did for him for what All Elite Wrestling did just to get stabbed in the back and join the other place. Another  part of me wished I was there, hidden within the crowd, in some disguise being able to immerse myself within the crowd, getting to experience one of his returns in person once more. Looking into his eyes you could tell that this is what he needed, he was truly home. He was happy, still in shock himself that he was back in a company that not even six months ago still had him banned.

I thought about what Phill told me earlier, ‘If Hunter and I can make up I have hope that we might be able to make things right.’ After that talk I couldn't get him off my mind. I knew if  he wanted he could just use that Chick Magnet charm and I would come running back but I needed to remind myself of the pain he caused me. How the past 14 months of my life had been an absolute hell. Everyday I look in the mirror and am shocked that I made it out alive, how somehow I was strong enough to tell that little voice in my head to shut up. I knew that chasing the feelings that were coming back was a suicide mission. I knew I shouldn't watch Raw but here I am getting home just in time to find my ex lover on the screen. I mean how bad could it be? 

[diamondmeadow]

as a certified Middle School Teacher, do you have any further thoughts or headcanons on mwpp at that age? because honestly this is a criminally underexplored comedic goldmine.

I cannot agree more! I feel like the first four years at Hogwarts especially have such potential. For gen fics mainly, so it might not be for everyone, might seem boring, but honestly we are writing and reading about a close-knit group of four boys, and by focusing on singular ships only, we might be missing out on so much of their dynamic expansion. I still keep thinking about that snippet of yours about Sirius pyjamas. But then I'm also coming from bands fandom which in a sense is a very similar environment, just a few men closely working and interacting together, plus my favourite trope is (best) friends to lovers, so there's that too. I'm pining for this. AHAHAH Anyway, enough of my ramble, here I come with some ideas, thought I don't necessarily think they are something people haven't come up with before. To sum up the comical possibilities move from bodily humour to more cerebral one over the years with lots of awkwardness thrown in between - i imagine a lot of hilarious situation happen just by accident. - ages 11/12 - they are probably extremely random. the things boys that age let out of their mouth, their associations, are just the wildest. the pranking at this stage must have been insane. a lot of body pranking and really dumb jokes. also there was a lot and I mean A LOT of physicality between the boys themselves probably. boys that age won't stop hitting each other, touching one another in quasi-fights, but there's nothing sexual about it. the boys in my class are at it nonstop, however dangerous it is, they keep smacking each other with cushions, slippers, textbooks, with ANYTHING that comes under their hands. they wrestle and pull at each other nonstop. i fully believe the marauders dorm room was a battle ground - this was specifically prominent between james and sirius. - ages 12/13 - this is the time when most of the boys enter puberty, so all kinds of physical changes you have described start appearing. they start to be more self-conscious about the way they look. as i HC for James to be a little on the vain side, I imagine him spending progressively longer time in the bathroom which might be a source of arguments (that are quickly forgetten) between the boys, they are constantly missing breakfast or well, James is, then he's grumpy because he is hungry. also times of the self-exploration, morning wood, wet dreams, lots of embarrassing moments for everyone. i imagine Peter being on the shy side, his bed has always curtain closed. their dorm room REEKS. Sirius might be the cleanest (pureblood upbringing leftover) lots of mood swings, it's a rollercoaster. a lot of bickering over stupid things. by the time they are thirteen they are a bit more shy with the touch (minus James and Sirius, again I feel like those two would be all over each other because that's their way of showing affection, James is a hugger from home). their pranking would get better, less body pranks, more cerebral pranks. i feel like here Remus might start getting bolder with his ideas. Sirius would get progressively mouthier. bless Mcg and every teacher at Hogwarts. - ages 13/14 - peek peer pressure. whatever their friends are thinking, that's the holy word. this is the peek pranking time. oh lord, Remus would hardly try to stop them. Peter would take a lot of detention to cover up for James and Sirius. and in general, they would be breaking records in detention. they are extremely aware of their sexuality, lots of lewdness, lots of stupid, inappropriate jokes. All the girls are annoyed by them. this is the time they start smoking if they start at all. sarcasm central! the randomness of their early age disappears - this is when everyone really understand just how smart Sirius and James really are. The third year is the year they are done with their mirrors and they are working on the map. they are bold enough to come up with the Animagi idea. this is the year they are invincible. by the way their room is a MESS - a MINEFIELD. Thank god for cleaning charms.

- ages 14/15 - now this is not very different from the previous year, i just think they get a little bit more organised, especially at 15, and increasingly it's possible to have a reasonable conversation with them. i feel like Remus would be a much more polite throughout the years, with his gratefulness for the opportunity he got at Hogwarts, so the difference would be scarce, the same goes for Peter, but James and Sirius would get much better and stop talking back as much. there's more secrecy in their plans. they also start to need their own space and time. their dorm room is tidier and the curtains are often closed on every bed. but all four of them have their opinions now and much more than before these opinions differ. it's not one brain cell/pack brain anymore. there are more discussions, a bit less pranking, they start seeing their behaviour is not as great and I think this is the time when they really only give a hard time to selected few (aka Snape) and whoever doesn't sit well with them. they definitely don't stop, but before they were much less selective. it could be anyone. Anyway, this is not wildly specific, more just like an application of my observation of teenage boys. I feel like everyone could make it work in their own way depending on how they see the individual Marauder.