#and by that i mean eddie getting his fuckin ass beat

[transgender-catboy]

only the most important artwork is going in here

[blueywrites]

Imagine asking Eddie hitting it from behind and you surprise him by begging to put it in your ass for the first time. Man barely makes it without immediately busting.

a little twist to your prompt! I had a sudden vision 😌

When you arrive on set, your stomach's a little twisted up with nerves - quite outside the norm for you, as you've been performing in these productions for a while now, and the thought of getting naked and fucking in front of a room full of personnel no longer phases you. But you've agreed to do an anal scene for the first time, and now you're a bit nervous for it. At least, you're nervous until you get close enough to see your costar - with his robe hanging low off one pale tatted shoulder, dark hair left to fall wild around his shoulders, his brown eyes cocoa-warm when they meet yours and he offers you a little wave in greeting.

Eddie.

You're glad it's him. He's funny and charismatic, and he never takes himself too seriously, which is refreshing compared to most actors in this industry. During scenes, he's flexible and responsive, always adapting quickly if you deviate off script a bit, and he seems to even enjoy it when you do. Likes it unpredictable, he says. Plus, he's vocal - and you like that. It genuinely turns you on, which makes the whole thing easier. Less of a performance that way.

After greeting Eddie with a bright smile, you're whisked away by your team. They get you prepped with makeup and hair and lube to ease your way later, and your nerves only come back just a smidge once you follow Eddie onto set and you both drop your robes, leaving you with nothing else to do but get in position and let the cameras start rolling.

"Hey." You turn at the sound of Eddie's gentle voice, pausing when you feel his fingertips clasp your elbow in a light hold. You thought you'd been masking you feelings well, but when you look up at him, his pouty lips are pulled into a soft, crooked smile. "Don't stress it, alright? I'll take care of you."

It's kind of him to offer reassurance, but that look in his eyes and that touch at your elbow and those words... It hits you more than just 'kind' should. I'll take care of you, and there's a flutter behind your ribcage, an omen of sweet, seductive danger, because he's your co-worker and that's why he's fucking you and you can't afford to feel some type of way about it.

But when he has you on all fours, folded up with your ass arched out, bouncing on the recoil as he hits it from the back... Shit. You know the transition is coming soon cause you've hit all the beats leading up to it already, and with how fuckin' wet he's made sure to get you, you're more than ready for him. You peek back at Eddie with your cheek pressed to the couch cushion, your breath huffing in little high-pitched whines as his hips clap against your cheeks and your pussy sucks him in on every thrust.

"Fuck, baby, feels so good," you simper, not entirely acting. And Eddie's supposed to reply with something like, 'Yeah, you like that? What if I put it in your ass?' But you don't give him the chance. Sweet and needy, breathily begging, you look up at him and continue, "Please, oh, please fuck my ass--"

"Fuuuuuuck," Eddie groans, and it sounds somehow both surprised and rehearsed at the same time, like maybe it started as a genuine reaction and he'd made a conscious effort to temper it back. But you've performed with him enough to know that new pinch in his brow means something's different this time. You can see it in his eyes too when you double down, whining out how much you need his big cock in your tight little asshole...

I'll take care of you. When Eddie pulls out, sinking into you in one smooth stroke, stretching you so abruptly full, making your eyes roll back at how fucking good it feels -- well, you fall just a little bit in love with him.

[lavenderstobins]

Wayne Adopts Robin | pt 2

[part 1]

Before anything else, Wayne needs to call Eddie.

Robin's still curled up on the couch, now barely visible under his jacket. Eddie's at band practice at Tony's place and has been for most of the day; there's still a few hours 'til he expects him home, but Wayne's aware that he might not be in the most... sound of mind.

'Band practice', Wayne has learned, covers anything and everything related to spending time with the band, whether they play or not. With no current upcoming performances, they're usually just hangouts, and hangouts that often have Eddie coming home red-eyed and giggly.

He doesn't mind it. He does think that if Eddie comes home stoned to find a random girl in their trailer he might have an aneurysm.

The number comes to him easily enough. Tony's Dale's kid, God rest his soul, and the phone number is burned into his memory from long-ago fishing trips.

The phone rings once before a voice answers. Linda, Dale's wife. A nice woman, known to be a gossip. They exchange pleasantries, then Linda's yelling for Tony to pass the phone to Eddie, and the background noise changes.

Tony, he can hear, is telling Eddie that he's calling, and Eddie, who is definitely stoned, answers eloquently with "Wha?"

"Dude, the phone."

"Huh? No thanks."

There's a snort, and someone else cackles. Wayne's pretty sure it's Jeff.

"It's your uncle, man." Tony's voice is higher-pitched than usual. Ah, to be a teenager again. "Mom's put it through for you. Answer... the... phone."

There's some rustling, and then—

"Wayne!" Eddie all but shouts. "Pleasant eve, my good sir!"

There's a giggle, then someone in the background says, "Oh, god, he's gone medieval again."

"Eddie?" He hesitates, glancing back to where Robin's sleeping. He lowers his voice. "You okay, boy?"

"Uncle Wayne, I could not be more magnificent." Another rustle and a quiet thud. Wayne dreads to think what's happening. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Ed," he starts, then stops, shifting. What even should he say? He needs to tell him about Robin being here, but as he glances back to her sleeping form, he can already feel that her presence ain't gonna be temporary. If her mom's kicked her out, she won't have anywhere to go, and he'll be damned if he lets a kid end up shivering on the streets. "You think you'd be okay with a sister?"

The other end is quiet. Then there's a loud thump, an even louder groan, and an explosion of laughter from presumably the rest of the band.

"Not soft," Eddie mumbles. "Fuckin— imposter rug."

Wayne clears his throat.

"You fucking moron," a voice chips in, feminine this time, which means it's Felicity. "That rug is almost as flat as your ass."

Eddie squawks indignantly. Wayne sighs, a small smile tugging at his lips despite it.

"Eddie." He waits for Eddie's answering hum. "Did you hear me?"

"Nope," he says, cheery as ever. "What did you say?"

"I said, how would you feel about havin' a—a sister of sorts around?"

There's a beat of silence. He's about to repeat himself, when—

"You're PREGNANT?" Eddie shouts.

Quieter, Wayne can hear Jeff's voice, "Wait, isn't he talking to Uncle Wayne?"

"No, Eddie—"

"YOU SLY DOG! YOU DIDN'T USE PROTECTION? AFTER ALL THE LECTURES YOU GAVE ME ABOUT IT?"

"Alright, that's enough, buddy." Jeff's calm tone takes over, growing louder a moment later. "Hi, Uncle Wayne. Uh, don't mind Eddie, he's..." There's a pause in which he seems to be trying to find the right words.

Eddie's voice booms again, far too close to the receiver. "Jeff, Jeff! Tell Wayne I want to name her Arwen!"

"... I don't know what he is," Jeff finishes. "Um, he'll be fine before he goes home, I promise. We, ah—We didn't expect your call."

"It's fine, son." Wayne stifles his own laugh. "I'll wait until he's home. You, uh, enjoy your night now."

"Yes, sir," Jeff says politely. Distantly, he can hear the sounds of a scuffle and more giggling.

Wayne hangs up, shaking his head fondly. He only hopes that Eddie does sober up before he gets home, or the conversation's going to be very difficult.

He's gonna need another coffee.

[courtingchaos]

Sundress

Mmm, I reblogged something about men in sundresses earlier and this is all I’ve thought about all day. Just a little something quick and dirty.

Eddie finds your new sundress and he looks real pretty in it.

18+ NSFW No Minors Allowed GTFO

Warnings: Hand jobs, dirty talk, cum eating you’re welcome

Eddie had tried to commit to the bit, had put your new sundress on and pranced out into the kitchen to show you. Did his little twirls and batted his lashes but it had all started going against him when he’d seen your eyes darken. He watches your gaze swipe up and down his body and suddenly he feels like he’s put himself on display. The tilt of your head when he turns to go back into the bathroom makes his heart rate increase and suddenly he’s trying to beat you to the doorway so he can shut the door. You get your hand on the doorframe though and crowd him against the countertop.

He’s already half hard and you can feel him pressing into your thigh. You trail a hand over his bare shoulder, pulling the thin strap down and placing a light kiss there. His breathing is short and quick and you keep kissing up to his neck while your other hand finds the hem of the dress and slides up his thigh.

“Are you not wearing underwear?”

“N-no, I was gonna get in the sh-oh fuck.” He’s cut off when you wrap your hand around his hardening cock under the silky cotton.

“No panties?” He immediately blushes, the red flooding his cheeks while you grin up at him. “Why don’t you turn around for me, huh?” You’re slowly stroking him and with your other hand you grab his hip to turn him. “See how pretty you look.”

Eddie is very quickly beside himself, hands braced on the counter top while you press up against him. The deep green of the dress is stark against his pale skin and okay, maybe it does look good. You hook your chin on his shoulder so you can watch his face while you jerk him off under the dress.

“Does that feel good baby?” You coo and he’s aware that you’re turning his own game against him. His teasing and his games coming back to bite him in the ass. He doesn’t care though, nods his head vigorously so you’ll maybe speed up a bit. He hangs his head when your hand wanders down to grab his balls, a low groan echoing in the small bathroom.

“Aw you don’t wanna watch?” You tug the dress behind him so it gathers above his hips, giving him a clear view of your hand gripping him under the dark green skirt. You roll his balls gently and he lets out the breath he was holding, arms shaking just a bit from anticipation. Your lips graze his ear, tongue following and he groans.

“Keep making those noises for me, so fuckin’ pretty.” You move your hand back to squeeze at the head of his cock, the dribble of precome caught in your palm before it drips into the sink. Your finger grazes the underside and up over the slit and his legs start to tremble. “You gettin’ close baby?” He nods again but you’ve brought your hand up to grip the hair at the base of his skull to pull his head up. “I wanted you to see Eddie.”

His mouth falls open on a laugh, gasping to the ceiling when you do finally speed up. He can see you watching him in the mirror, eyes wide with awe when a mean little smile grows. You let his cock go and hold your hand up in front of his open mouth. “Lick.”

He obliges, rolls his tongue out and licks a fat stripe up your palm. Wriggles the point in between your fingers till you pull your hand back and the slick sound of your palm sliding over soft skin sets the heat low in his belly.

“Oh good boy.” That makes him whimper and lean back in to you. I am a good boy, he thinks to himself. Put this dress on and ended up getting a handy in the bathroom. What a clever, good boy-

His thoughts cut off when you latch on to his neck, wet tongue sliding on overheated skin. You nibble at him to get a shiver down his back and he almost buckles under all your ministrations.

“Jesus Christ I’m fuckin-pleasepleaseplease!”

“Please what?”

“Please keep going.”

“I wasn’t gonna stop.” You mumble against his neck. He’s stringing out a litany of curses now. Between watching your hand on his cock and watching your face delight in his predicament, that heat starts creeping up fast. It burns through his abdomen and makes his knees hit the cabinet.

“I gotcha baby.” You let his hair go to wrap your arm around his waist, hand laid flat just under his racing heart. “You gonna cum?” Practically purring at him you give his neck a nuzzle and listen to the whines crawling out of him. “Huh? You gonna make a mess out of my new dress?”

“Uh huh.” He’s drunk on your voice. Follows it to the edge of his arousal and you push him over with your filthy little words.

“Oh come on baby, cum for me. Make a mess and maybe I’ll let you clean it up with that eager mouth.”

When he cums you hold him up, hand sliding up his chest to splay over the front of his throat. Long ropes of white over your fist and onto the counter, getting smeared on the hem of the skirt where it’s fallen back down his waist. You can feel the muscles flex under your hand when he tries to swallow around his gasps. You keep the pace of your hand up till he whimpers and tries to pull back, over sensitive and skin hot.

Holding up your hand you turn it over to inspect it, other hand still resting gently around his neck. He’s trying to catch his breath, head full of cotton and you. Doesn’t even think twice when you hold your hand up again and tell him to lick. He grabs your wrist and turns around to face you, tongue laving over your palm and between your fingers. He’s tangy on your skin, might almost say he enjoys the taste of it off you but he’s getting distracted by the look in your eyes. Wrenching out of his grasp you make to pull the dress off of him and he can feel the cooling patches on the fabric when it drags across his body.

“Still wanna take that shower?” You crowd him again, right up against the side of the tub, enough that he almost tips over into it.

“You are insatiable.” He laughs at you and pulls the shower curtain away, waiting for you to fully undress.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be walking around with no underwear then.”

“Oh it’s my fault?”

“You knew exactly what you were doing.” You climb in after him and slide your hands up into his hair, slick from the hot water.

“It really was supposed to be a joke.”

“Oh I take my men in dresses very seriously Munson.”

(Sacrifice for the readmore)

[wroteclassicaly]

ok since we’re being dirty filthy whores….. i want eddie pissing INSIDE me, making me hold it, releasing it on the toilet myself.

You… have no idea what you’re asking of me. My residency on hell road is solidified. I tweaked this a bit, so I hope you don’t mind? :P

Filth is below the cut! Obviously we are gonna have watersports, so… Master kink too! This is pretty intense, be warned, lol.

~*~

You really didn’t mean to be a brat all day, it just… well, it happened. Combine that with the stress you’ve been under lately and you’d sort of taken it all out on Eddie. He had raised a chocolate brow, a look of incredulous wonder painted on his defined features. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and tutted, then told you to ‘get the fuck in the van and keep your mouth shut.’ You knew Eddie would never be so casually mean with you, not purposely. And his tone suggested where it was headed.

And that is how you’re in your current predicament, laid out in the back of his van on several old blankets, accepting another water he’d given you without any protests. You’d stopped begging him to let you pee an hour ago. He’d driven you to a clearing out near Lover’s Lake after filling his cooler full of sodas and waters, a sneer on his plush mouth, a plan in his devious, curly little head. Eddie crushes a can of Coke in his fist, tossing it behind your head, furthering his vehicular clutter. You whine and shift, pressing your tight clad thighs together.

For a fleeting moment, as Eddie turns to look at you in the Autumn breeze, his hair billowing out behind him, you think he’s going to give you a break. When his chocolate irises give way to dilating pupils, your stomach sinks into your cunt. He lets his hand slide down against the growing swell in his denim jeans, snapping his fingers at you. “Everything from the waist down comes off. Now.”

You know better than to protest him, that look in his eyes shaving off any remaining color his irises hold. It’s embarrassing that you’re this wet through your leggings and they cling to your soaked panties, that also pull off strings of your arousal when you tug them down and place them behind you, the cool air making you tighten your muscles and close your legs automatically to resist that urge in your bladder. Eddie shakes his head as he’s shrugging out of his leather jacket and denim vest, throwing beside your head, undoing his belt.

“Spread your legs for me and lay back.”

This time you can’t hide your nervous whimper, an ache slicing through your tummy. You bite into the top of your lip and nod. “Yes, sir.”

Eddie’s stance shifts, his cock rock hard. It’ll be less difficult for him since he’ll be inside of you. He can’t contain the words that flow off his delicious lips. “I’m gonna fill you so fuckin’ full of my piss that you’re gonna cry.”

You choke on a soft cry, Eddie briefly faltering, raising a brow as he tilts his head. “That… good? Okay?”

You throw caution to the wind, eager to have something this filthy occur between you and Eddie. Without being asked you edge your ass on the end of the van floor, still on the blankets but hovering over the dirt below. You fall back, chest heaving with pained breaths, heart beat rushing through your ears, drowning you in static. Eddie steps into the space between your thighs, truly seeing how soaked you are, his doubts about your want for the situation become obliterated. He’s surprised at how gone his voice is when he rasps out his next sentence, thumb slicking down the soaked seam of your cunt. “Fuck, sweetheart. Someone really wants to be filled with her master’s piss, doesn’t she?”

“Please, baby.” You whine, gone, tears gathering in your eyes.

Eddie shushes you and finally pushes down his pants and boxers, his cock flushed and ready for you. He grips around the base, slapping your clit with it. You can’t see anything from your position, choosing to feel what he’s bestowing upon you. Still, he checks in.

“Gonna put my cock in now, yeah?”

You simply moan in response, widening your thighs, exposed more than you’ve ever remembered being as your feet plant into a prop on the bumper of Eddie’s van.

He slides in easily, a squelch echoing in the vast expanse of the woods surrounding you. Your hands fists into the blankets at your sides, Eddie pushing it until his full balls are nesting at the globes of your ass. He bends to meet you, kissing your chin in a stretch of his lanky body, shirt riding up and exposing his happy trail. You open your eyes to watch his hand slide into your sides and brush his fingers along your cheek, whispering into the cove of your mouth, pausing to give you time to adjust. “You’re so fuckin’ wet, you know that? M’ proud of you, princess. Doin’ so good taking me, holding it.”

“Eds, I don’t think I can much longer.” He drinks in your soft sighs and moves himself into the first stroke, both of you losing yourselves into it.

“Just gonna give you a little, then you’ll get filled up, kay?”

“O-okay. So much. Love you.”

“Oh, baby. Master loves his little angel too. More than anything.”

Eddie gives you a few more languid thrusts, that achingly, slippery glide making your toes curl. It’s when he stops that you’re lifting your head in time to see him toss his head back, clench his teeth, nose scrunching, and you’re flooded with a deep warmth. Your mouth drops open as you arch your back, panting, raising up to try and see what you can. Eddie’s having trouble not cumming on the spot, cupping the back of your neck and bringing you upright, both of you watching as he slides out enough that you see his piss spilling out all around his cock and from your cunt.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You feel me using you like this? Pussy full of my piss.”

He suddenly hisses through his teeth as you clamp down on him, trying to close your legs, begging yourself to be good. And he loses his resolve, abruptly sliding from you in a wet plop, his cock covered in his own spray and your creamy arousal, soaking the curls around his shaft. All of his release pours out and soaks the earth, and he steps close to you, beginning to stroke himself, teeth nipping your ear as he leans in close and says, “Piss for me. Fuckin’ do it now.”

Your body obeys Eddie before you do, hand in hand, jumping into off of that pleasurable precipice. It’s a filthy mess when you let go. Loud and a lot more than you anticipated, Eddie growling, tugging his cock directly underneath the spray as he noses your top away from your shoulder and bites into the flesh. He’s encouraging you, nipping, hand drenched and fisting his fat cock. “Pussy looks so pretty pissing for me.”

He lets his other hand slide against your cunt and presses his thumb into your clit, thrumming it fast circles, now nosing into your neck. “M’ gonna cum. You wanna cum with me, princess? Think you can do it while you’re—“ He cuts himself off with a throaty laugh, and you’re a goner.

That coil is so violent, combining with the relief of letting yourself pee after holding it for a while, and you’re cumming so hard that Eddie has to hold you upright by pressing himself against you, eyes wide. “Shit, baby. You cummin’ right now? S’ a good girl for me. Innit that right, princess? Cum and piss all over your master’s cock.”

Your head falls into his shoulder as you literally sob, fucked out and drunk on the haze of lust. Eddie twists his hand and aims himself at your cunt, you stopping once there’s a puddle beneath you, ass soaked, bumper wet, and both of you a mess. He spreads your lips apart as he spurts his release right against your clit with a loud and throaty cry, hand gripping the van door from the intensity of his own orgasm. It takes a few seconds, and he is huffing and moving away to survey the damage, trying not to let his shaky legs take him away. He spots a mixture of translucent cream and piss dripping off your cunt and down your ass.

You are looking at him with your glassy eyes and he recognizes those tears, separates them from anything bad. He leans in for a kiss, then another, nosing your nose with a cute smoosh. “You were fuckin’ incredible, baby. You alright? Still with me?”

“For now.” You manage with a knowing smirk.

[lesbianrobin]

family friend

2,051 words

eddie has a new neighbor. his new neighbor has an unusual visitor.

Eddie's gotta figure out how to get away with murdering Steve Harrington.

Steve was a douche in high school, sure, but nothing crazy. He was just standard ignorant jock douchey, not, like, hauling slurs at everyone and beating on his girlfriend douchey, which is why Eddie almost couldn't believe what he was seeing at first.

The Mayfields moved in across the way, and Eddie saw Steve carrying boxes. A bit weird to see Steve Harrington in the trailer park, sure, but maybe the mom paid him twenty bucks or something to help with moving. Not a huge deal. Then Eddie saw Steve Harrington pull up outside that same trailer in his BMW the very next night, around one in the morning. The little redheaded freshman girl came out of her place carrying a backpack and got into the car, and before Eddie could blink Steve was driving off, and Eddie felt like he might throw up.

Sure, technically it's none of his business, but Jesus fuckin' Christ, the girl can't be any more than fifteen at the oldest, and that’s if he’s being generous. He’s almost sure she’s fourteen. Steve's a grown-ass man, so Eddie would probably be well within his rights to call the cops, but what the hell would he say? Officer, I saw them talking. He gave her a ride. The hell kind of evidence is that? Besides, the cops don't give a shit about anything that happens on this side of town, and they sure as hell don’t give a shit about anything that Eddie Munson has to say. Eddie's gonna have to figure something else out.

Three months later, and he’s still drawing a blank. It's not that he's scared of Harrington, he's just being… pragmatic. Wise. Other things that aren't just being a cowardly little wimp. Harrington doesn't come by every night, sometimes he'll even go a week without visiting, but every time Eddie thinks that maybe he's finally decided to leave this poor girl alone, he comes back. Always at night. Well, probably. Eddie's obviously not just staking out this random girl's house all day. Because that would be weird. So for all he knows, Harrington could be coming by sometimes at noon, but Eddie's only noticed it at night, and the girl always comes outside to his car, Harrington never going in, and one time Eddie sees Harrington tug on her braid when she gets into the passenger seat and the kid smiles at him, and Eddie wonders if she knows how wrong this is or if she's just happy to have somebody giving her attention. Too many girls around Hawkins are like that, convinced that even the smallest scrap of affection means they're loved, and maybe it's a bit hypocritical of Eddie to say that because he's so desperate for love and respect that he devotes almost all of his time to making sure a bunch of teenage nerds think he's cool, and maybe if a grown-ass man had shown him a little attention when he was fourteen he'd have fallen into that exact same trap, but Wayne wouldn't have let it happen, and Eddie finds himself hating that poor single mother across the road a little bit even though he knows it's not fair.

Harrington may be a creep, but he's smarter than Eddie would have expected. He never does anything untoward in public, nothing that could give Eddie an excuse to get involved. What the hell is he supposed to do? Threaten Steve Harrington and get his ass kicked? Try to hit Steve Harrington, get his ass kicked, and get arrested for assault? Tell the girl’s mother and get chewed out for spying on them all the time? So Eddie watches. He just watches like a total piece of shit. Harrington’s the only man he ever sees at the trailer, which isn’t surprising. The kid’s mom seems to work too much to have time for dating. Eddie saw Lucas Sinclair once or twice, right around when they first moved in, but he hasn’t been by in a couple of months, and he hasn’t brought it up with Sinclair because how the hell is he supposed to even start that conversation? Any time he considers telling somebody about the Harrington situation, he starts planning what he’ll say, how the conversation will go, and it always ends with somebody wondering why the hell he’s paying so much attention to the little girl across the street and turning Eddie in to the cops, who already hate him and want any excuse to lock his ass up and search the trailer. Besides, Sinclair may not worship the guy like Henderson does, but he still seems to think he's pretty great, so he probably wouldn't be receptive.

One Sunday afternoon, Eddie’s eating cereal and watching TV when he hears a car pulling up outside. The engine's way too smooth to belong to anybody in Forest Hills, so Eddie stands to peek out the window.

Harrington’s BMW comes to a stop so hard that Eddie can hear the brakes squeal. He jumps out of the driver’s seat, leaving his car running, and takes the stairs two at a time, barging into the Mayfields’ trailer like he owns the place, and Eddie’s blood runs cold. Eddie's pretty sure the girl’s the only one home right now.

Steve Harrington gets into a lot of fights.

Eddie puts his cereal down on the coffee table and starts patting himself down. Shit, where’s his knife? In his jacket, probably, and his jacket’s in his room, and there’s no fucking way Eddie’s gonna take on Steve Harrington with his bare hands, so he runs through the trailer, hoping that he didn’t leave his jacket in the van, because the van’s locked right now and he can’t remember where he put his keys, and he keeps listening, waiting for a scream, but he doesn’t hear anything, which somehow makes him even more sick.

Finally, finally, he finds the jacket, finds his switchblade, and he glances quickly out the window on his way to the door—and pauses.

Harrington is carrying the Mayfield girl piggyback down the stairs. He says something, and she thumps his ear. Ow! he can see Harrington exclaim, but he doesn’t put her down, doesn’t retaliate in any way, and Eddie slips his knife into his pocket. He needs to hear what they’re saying.

The trash can’s only half full, but it’ll work.

Eddie tries his best to act nonchalant as he carries the too-light bag of trash outside, pretending like he doesn’t even notice Harrington and the girl are there.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harrington says, bending down so that the girl can open the passenger side door. “Here, careful…” He slowly lets her down, and Eddie sees that she’s balancing on one foot, holding the other one an inch or so off the ground. Harrington offers her a hand and she leans on his arm as she lowers herself into the car.

“I don’t need a hospital,” the girl says, “I just asked if you could take me to get an ankle brace, Mom,” and Harrington sighs.

He lowers his volume, but King Steve’s voice has always carried pretty well, so Eddie hears clear as day, “Look, I can cover the bill, alright? You know I can. Please don’t worry about it, Max, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Eddie can just barely hear what Max says next, but he’s pretty sure it’s sorry.

Harrington reaches down and tugs on her braid, a small, sad smile on his face, and he says, “Just be more careful next time, alright? Don’t try new tricks and shit without somebody around to make sure you don’t break your neck.”

They look at each other for a few moments, and the silence makes Eddie suddenly aware that he’s just been standing next to a trash can doing absolutely nothing. He lifts the lid and drops the bag in.

“Alright, your feet in okay?” Max nods. Harrington closes her door gently. He jogs around to the driver’s side, and that’s when he and Eddie lock eyes. Oh, shit.

Harrington gives him a polite smile, holding one hand up in a wave. “Hey,” he calls, and Eddie jumps. Harrington gestures toward the car. “Kid broke her ankle on her skateboard.”

“It’s not broken!”

Harrington rolls his eyes. “You’re not a doctor just because you can put band-aids on skinned knees,” he says as he opens the drivers’ side door, shooting a look back at Eddie like, Can you believe this kid? Harrington gets into the car and snaps his fingers, saying, “Hey, come on, seatbelt, asshole.”

Max Mayfield throws her head back and groans, but she puts on her seatbelt. Harrington buckles his own, waves at Eddie, and puts the car in drive. Eddie watches them drive off, standing next to the trash can, and it feels like his feet are stuck in place.

Eddie noticed a lot of things, keeping an eye out for Max like he was. He noticed Max spending hours at a time wiping out on her skateboard, over and over, skinning her knees and bruising her shins, until she nailed whatever trick she was trying to do. He noticed how many six- and twelve-packs her mother carried inside on a regular basis. He noticed how their TV and their lights often stayed on until the early hours of the morning. He noticed how Max always had dark circles under her eyes, how she never smiled, not really, always trudged to and from the school bus with her headphones on and her eyes to the ground. He noticed that Max sometimes smiled in the passenger seat of that BMW. He noticed that Harrington was the only man who ever came over to the trailer, but more than that, Eddie realizes, he was the only person.

When Eddie gets inside, his cereal is beyond soggy. He eats it anyway, gagging on every mouthful, and thank fuck he’s such a coward or he might have scared off the only person in a lonely girl’s life who’s actually looking out for her. Actually doing shit to help her, not just watching from across the street. Getting her away from her alcoholic mother, from her quiet, shitty trailer, and Eddie suddenly remembers how he heard Madonna playing from Harrington’s car radio one night, and at the time he thought it was disgusting, some old creep playing a little girl’s favorite music so she’d let her guard down, but now it makes his chest feel funny in a good way.

Shit, Henderson was right. How many kids has Steve Harrington adopted? Eddie’s always figured that Henderson worships the guy and Sinclair thinks he's cool because he’ll buy them beer or something, but he’d never quite bought his own theory, because Henderson doesn’t seem like the type. This makes more sense. Dustin’s mom is a little… uh… much, Sinclair had said one time when Dustin left Hellfire early. She might, like, actually have a heart attack and die if he’s home late again. Henderson lives alone with his mom, too, no brothers or sisters and no dad in the picture, and Eddie’s never claimed to be bright but he’s not too bad at recognizing patterns. So, Steve Harrington: not a creep, probably. That’s good to know. Eddie’s not gonna let up on Henderson, obviously, because Harrington’s still a stupid asshole jock, but it’s nice to know his little buddies aren’t hanging with a perv.

Three hours later, Eddie hears the BMW again. He watches through the window as Harrington opens Max’s door for her and helps her up the stairs on her new clunky boot. They're chatting about something, taking turns rolling their eyes and laughing on their way inside. Harrington seems to stay inside the trailer until Max’s mom gets home that night, and when she does Steve meets her on the porch. They go inside together for a bit. When they reemerge, Harrington hugs her, and Eddie thinks he might see a tear or two from Max’s mother, and then he looks away, busies himself with his third attempt at slogging through The Scarlet Letter because it's none of his business.

Steve fuckin' Harrington. God, Hawkins never stops getting weirder.

[xtrafluffyteddy]

Popsicles

Pairing: steve Harrington x reader x Eddie munson

Mentions: cursing, flirting, play fighting, young adult stupidness

It was July in Hawkins and the heat was at an all time high. You, Steve, and Eddie were all sprawled out in different places in Steve’s room you on his bed wearing an old corroded coffin shirt you had turned into a tank top along with some Jean shorts toying with some clicky cube you had found , Eddie on the other hand was on the floor wearing his usual hell fire shirt with the small modification of the sleeves being cut off and some black jeans reading through Steve’s chick magazine as he had called it, and Steve wearing his little basket ball shorts and no shirt sprawled out on his little couch lazily looking at you both with half lidded eyes.

“Jesus H. Christ, it’s so fucking hot in here” you groan flipping over onto your back sweat dripping down your forehead even with the fan on full blast

“Why don’t we all just get naked?” You heard Eddie suggest from the floor followed by a quick hey after Steve had thrown a pillow at him “that’s what you always suggest Ed’s” steve let out with a laugh.

You sigh and sit up looking outside Steve’s window catching a glimpse of something bright and colorful moseying down the road “hey Stevie cmere real quick and tell me that’s what I think it is” Steve got up with a grunt from his comfortable spot and made his way to the window following your eye line to an all to familiar vehicle

“Eddie you’ll never fuckin believe what’s outside” you turn to look at the long haired man with excitement in your eyes “THE ICECREAM TRUCKKK” you shouted.

Eddie grinned getting a devious idea “last one there has to pay” before rushing off down the hall you following closely after him steve running past you like it was nothing, before he tripped over something sending you leap frogging over him

“Sorry loverboy you gotta be faster than that” you shouted back as you tried to catch up with Eddie.

“Cmon sweetheart keep up I thought for sure you’d be faster than that” Eddie called back to you already halfway out there door shortly followed by you then steve

You all watched in shock as the icecream started pulling away sending you all running down the hot street feet burning on the hot asphalt hair flowing in the breeze laughs ringing out feeling like kids again while racing after the icecream truck.

When some kids had gotten the icecream trucks attention you were eternally greatful panting as Eddie had gotten there first followed by Steve then lastly you.

“Damn it” you grumble digging around your shorts pockets taking out your wallet. “It’s okay sweetheart” you’ll beat us next time Eddie patted your back “maybe” steve followed up earning then both a soft jab to the stomachs with your elbows as you made your way up to the small window

“I’ll have a tweety bird pop please” you smiled up at the man “I’ll have a fudge pop” you heard Eddie say “and I’ll have the firecracker pop” steve had said, when you all received your popsicles you pay the man making sure to leave a tip you turn to them all of you agreeing to just sit on the curb to tired to run back right now.

So that’s where you sat as the sunset over Hawkins joking and eating you icecreams the sweet treats dripping down your hands leaving sticky residue behind, all of you leaned up against each other offering each other bites every now and then.

“This tweety bird looks so janky” you giggle holding up the half eaten/melted treat who’s bubble gum eyes were no where close to where they should be.

“Looks kinda like Eddie” you heard Steve say followed by a quick pop from Eddie flicking his forehead.

You smiled watching the two bicker lovingly knowing they didn’t mean any of the teasing insults they were spitting at each other.

Hot summer days were your favorite even if you were sweating your ass off, shielding yourself from the suns rays, swimming in Steve’s pool or just laying in Steve’s bedroom because his ac is the best out of the three of yours. This was the life this is exactly where you wanted to be.

[dinodinodin0]

hi!! loved loved loved those hc’s u did with Eddie and little!reader!! could you do something with Eddie’s reaction to little!reader getting bratty and throwing a lil fit? 💗

Oh my goodness of COURSE <3 TW: teensy bit if mean! Eddie! Not too harsh tho <3

༺♰༻

You had been pushing Eddie all day. You argued over petty things, you refused to look at him when he asked, and worst if all, you whined. You whined, constantly.

"eddieeee I wanted to listen to this songggggggg"

"Eddie I want a kisssssss"

"Eddie!! Gimme that!!"

Eventually you decided to push him to his limit. He told you to ' do your work as you're s'pose to,' and he sat you down on his counter with your work in front of you.

You looked up at him with big glassy eyes, lip pouting. You tugged in his sleeve hard and started,

"Eddie I don't want to !! I don't wanna do my work it's too hard for me!" You whined, volume louder then you'd meant it.

Suddenly you felt his hand grab your jaw as he forced you to look at him. He came real close, his eyes cloudy and jaw clenched.

"I have had it with you. You've been a fuckin' brat all day. If you keep this up, I'm not above bending you over this counter and punishing you until you do your fucking work with your ass Red and wilted, now sit the fuck down and do your fucking work." He spat, harshly shoving you back into your seat and redirecting your head to your work.

"what do you say."

"okay Eddie." You say, heart beating faster.

"what did you call me?" You gulp,

"yes daddy."

[dameronology]

Hi! Could I please request imagines of Steve or Eddie with a short reader? (Pref one who isn’t a rabid chihuahua because not all tiny ppl are filled w/ rage 24/7 ty 🥰)

i will drink to this bc i'm 5'3 on a good day which isn't even that short but i work with lots of tall ppl so i have a little bit of a napoleon complex at times but i hate the tHeY'Re DeMoNs cOs tHey'Re ClOseR tO hElL bullshit

eddie munson

a lotta people write eddie as being tall as fuck but canonically, he is 5'10 which is definitely on the taller side and he's somehow still lanky and gangly as hell

idk how people individually define short but in my head it's like 5'4 and below so he's definitely towering over you in some way or another

obviously, he teases you about it; especially when you ask him to get stuff down for you from a shelf in the supermarket or to reach the leftovers at the back of the freezer

it makes him feel needed in a sweet domestic way

eddie will sometimes use your head as an arm rest, just to take the piss

one of his nicknames for you would definitely be "short stuff"

"having trouble reaching that, short stuff?" and "how's the weather down there, short stuff?"

it also means this clothes hang off of you and he loves that !!

like seriously his heart skips a beat every time you have to roll back the sleeves on his denim jacket or t-shirt that he's leant you

his arms are long enough so that he can keep a hand on the small of your back when you walk.

i'll tell u what tho. sharing a bed with him is a pain in the fucking ass

because the man spread eagles his stupid gangly limbs everywhere and you're forced to resign yourself to one singular corner of the mattress

but then he tangles himself with you in the night, and he's tall enough to completely enclose your body in his and it's sweet as fuck

steve harrington

steve is also on the much taller side at 5'11

he insists he's six foot though and honestly you're just gonna have to let him have this one

either way, he's a lot bigger than you

honestly it's not something he paid much attention to until dustin, lucas, mike & will had their growth spurts and he's all like "wow haha you're actually fuckin' tiny"

one time he took you & the kids to the theatre and the lady in the box office asked if you wanted a kids ticket

steve said yes because he wanted to save money and you didn't talk to him for the rest of the day

he loves the height difference tho. it means he can rest his head on top of yours when you hug and you're the perfect height for forehead kisses

his favourite thing to do is sling an arm over your shoulder whenever you're walking beside him

and sometimes he runs up to you and picks you up into a kiss

[banannabethchase]

Secrets to Hide - also on AO3

~

"Be very careful who you lie to" is advice Claudio Castagnoli should have taken before he married Jon Moxley, and before he started sleeping with Wheeler Yuta on the side.

Warnings: Major character death, infidelity, murder, graphic depictions of violence (see AO3 for more details)

~

This is very loosely inspired by Two Black Cadillacs and Sarah's prompt, but I went the Sara route and Schrodinger's Prompt-ed this bitch. Tis a dark one, folks!

~

+6 months, 12 hours, 24 minutes, 5 seconds

Mox slings his arms around Wheeler’s shoulders. “I mean, it’s one of those things you can’t explain, right?” He gazes at Wheeler, feeling something too close to love bloom in his chest. “Sometimes people are brought together by grief. Memory of the loved ones lost, you know.”

Wheeler beams at Mox. “It’s weird, but it works for us.”

Eddie snickers from where he’s head first in a bowl of soup.

“What?” Wheeler asks. “Not a fan of love?”

“You guys are terrible,” Eddie laughs. “Jesus.”

Mox and Wheeler share a knowing glance, then turn back to the group.

Ruby laughs into her soda. “Eddie’s just jealous because Mox promoted Wheeler over him.”

“He wasn’t even working there at the time,” Mox says, taking his arm back. He turns to Wheeler. “And Claudio, rest his soul, rated you highly in your performance reviews. You were the only reasonable person to become the gym manager.”

Eddie shrugs. “He’s right, Roo. I’m just glad I got a steady job again. Beauty in tragedy, right?”

Mox nods. “Beauty in tragedy.”

Wheeler leans over and kisses Mox’s cheek. “I gotta get home, baby, but I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

Mox kisses Wheeler gently, still reeling from how different this is from before. From who he used to kiss. “Okay,” he murmurs against Wheeler’s lips. “I’ll see you later.”

He watches Wheeler walk off and turns to Eddie, who has the most knowing of smiles. “You two sure are a picture,” he says.

Mox shrugs. “You find love in the weirdest ways.”

~

+7 days

Mox gets home from the service past midnight to see the door cracked open, just the slightest. He pulls out his pocket knife, wishing he’d listened to Eddie years back telling him to grab something bigger, and slowly walks into the house, locking the door behind him. There was no car out front, no bike, nothing.

“Hello?” he calls. “I just came home from my fuckin’ husband’s funeral, so if you wanna die, now’s a good time to show yourself.”

He recognizes the chuckle as the figure slides out from behind the door. “Hey,” Wheeler says, smiling. “I had the Uber drop me off at Kroger, then walked here.”

Mox freezes. “Shit, did I awaken some sort of serial killer shit in you?” He holds out the pocket knife. “It’d be great if you didn’t kill me.”

Wheeler laughs a little as he shakes his head, a glint in his eye that intrigues and worries Mox. “Not my plan,” he says. His steps are slow and deliberate as he comes up to Mox. “What do you say to a little celebration?”

Mox raises an eyebrow. “That’s – that is not where I saw you going with this.”

Wheeler drops to his knees in front of Mox, and his brain starts to scream in a combination of his blood zooming southward and the alarm bells of fucking the guy who just helped kill your husband. “Come on,” Wheeler says, and he begins to see how easily Claudio was seduced by those eyes and that smile. “I can’t be the only one who felt it.”

His hands settle on Mox’s belt buckle.

Mox should refuse. Mox should kick him out, not even pay for the cab, and send this kid packing. He should go back on the promise, should make sure Wheeler Yuta can’t set foot in this town again without getting his ass beat.

“Fuck, yeah,” Mox says, and Wheeler’s hands undo his belt.

Wheeler’s smile feels like heaven around his cock, and it’s only a few moments before he’s in this, fully. Good decisions be damned. He’s at worst a murderer – this doesn’t even make the list of bad things he’s done.

“Get up,” Mox says. “Gotta – there’s no bed in the main bedroom, obviously, but the guest –”

Wheeler stands and wipes his mouth, nodding. “I, uh. I know where that is.” He shrugs, apologetic eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Mox says. “It’s all mine now.” He grins at Wheeler. “Including you, I guess.”

Wheeler laughs as they tug each other into the guest bedroom, bite marks and scratches blooming as Wheeler fucks him into the mattress without a care in the world.

“Surprised,” Mox gasps, scrabbling for purchase against the cheap mattress and bedspread. “When I walked in on you and Claudio, you were bent over for him.”

Wheeler laughs, hands gripping Mox’s hips tighter to drive into him. Mox whimpers. “Yeah, well, Claudio always liked to be on top, didn’t he?”

“He always did.” Mox groans as Wheeler wraps a hand around his cock, unrelenting thrusts meeting focused, concentrated strokes. It’s strangely easy to speak of Claudio in the past tense. He’d expected it to take longer. “Liked his – oh, god – liked his men on his knees for him.”

“Now you’re on your knees for me,” Wheeler growls, and Mox comes without warning.

~

+6 days

The funniest thing about how the memorial service was set up, Mox thinks, is that there’s a massive area specifically for former colleagues. There’s about a dozen of them, and Mox has only met around half. He wonders if Claudio was fucking anybody else in this group, if anyone else should have been in on the plan.

If Claudio lied to everybody about who Mox was.

“Mox?” says a small, blonde woman. “Are you – you were Claudio’s husband right?”

Mox nods. “I was.”

She takes his hands and smiles at him. “He was a wonderful man,” she says gently. “I’m sure you miss him dearly.” Mox tries his best to smile back at her. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Did everyone know about me?” he asks.

“Some, yes,” she says. “But we were all quite focused on the work. You know how it is.”

Mox doesn’t. In his line of work, you often learn who people are before you join them in the ring. “I know,” he lies. “Thank you.”

The line of people stretches far, and Mox is wondering if he should have just had Claudio be cremated with how long this is taking.

And then a familiar pair of eyes meet his further down the line, and he nods once.

He braces himself to meet Wheeler for the first time officially, talking aimlessly for a moment with one of Claudio’s aunts, who weeps into his shoulder until she moves down to Claudio’s mother.

“Hi,” says Wheeler, smiling sadly. “I’m Wheeler Yuta – I worked with Claudio.”

Mox nods, holding his hand out to shake. Wheeler does, and it’s a completely different shake than the first one: meek, gentle. As much as a show as everything else the two of them are doing. “Oh?”

Wheeler nods. “He was a good man.”

“Yes,” Mox says, the lie sparkling between the two of them like a firework, “he was.”

Wheeler joins Claudio’s work friends in throwing roses into the casket, bumping the back of Mox’s hand with his as they pass wordlessly on the path. Mox knees in front of the casket, hearing the weeping of Claudio’s family behind him. His eyes are dry but red.

“Good riddance,” he murmurs, so quiet he can barely hear himself. “Until we meet on the other side.”

He exhales and stands, and meets Wheeler’s eyes one last time.

~

0

“Babe?” Mox yells, throwing open the door. He drops the groceries on the ground. He hopes it’s not suspicious he only got things that don’t need the freezer.

His heart is already racing, expecting to see Claudio tidying the bathroom or making dinner. Maybe half alive on the floor of the bathroom, puking up every last ounce of life in his body. “Claudio, where are you?”

His hands shake as he walks through the rooms of their house. The kitchen, where they’d cooked countless meals: empty. The living room, where Claudio had fallen asleep in Mox’s lap more times than any one man could count: empty. The bathroom: empty. The guest room: empty.

Mox takes a deep breath before pushing open the door to their bedroom.

Claudio lay in the bed, color wrong, completely still.

“Claudio?!” Mox shrieks. He runs to him. Despite how much he wanted this, despite the fact that this was the ultimate outcome, the panic of a dead body in front of him, of his husband’s dead body in front of him, sends shocks of adrenaline and fear through him. He shakes Claudio’s shoulders, frantic, trying to see if there’s anything left in him. His head shakes around violently, and Mox realizes the chill against his fingers is Claudio’s skin.

He makes the strangest wailing noise as he fumbles in his pocket for his phone, dialing 9-1-1 with shaking hands. “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“I – I came home, and he was in bed – he’s so cold.”

“Who is, sir?”

Mox takes a deep breath, voice shaking. He’d thought he’d have to act this part. He didn’t think his reaction would be genuine. “My husband.”

The next hours are a blur – police officers, EMTs, the phrase, “Dead on arrival,” the bedroom blocked off. He doesn’t stop shaking the whole time.

“Sir, is there anyone you can call?” The police officer – Mox thinks her name was Grant – asks gently.

He nods. “I – my friend Eddie.” He fumbles for his phone. “I – I’ll stay with him.”

She slides him her card. “If you need anything, or have an idea of who may have done this.”

Mox nods absently, putting his phone to his ear as it rings. “Eddie,” he says. “Claudio’s gone.”

~

-5 days

“Alright,” Eddie says. “I got the stuff. All I gotta do is get Ruby to give it to her friend Toni, Toni drops it off for the DoorDash order, and we’re in the clear.”

Mox fidgets, glancing down to the phone, where Wheeler is on the other line. “Are you sure we can pull this off? If they can trace it back to us, we’re all fucked.”

Eddie shakes his head. “This shit’s fast acting and it can’t be detected after four hours, so, as long as you’re out of the house while it takes effect…”

“I’ll be out of there,” Mox assures him. “I’ll run errands or something, be somewhere with lots of cameras.” He turns to the phone on the table and leans in. “Wheeler, your job is to make sure he takes his ass home the second he starts showing symptoms. If he doesn’t get home, the plan doesn’t work.”

“I can make that happen,” Wheeler says through gritted teeth. “He…he listens to me. Trusts me with the gym.”

Mox holds back a laugh. “Course he does. But, Wheeler. You have to make sure he drinks that specific coffee,” Mox says in a low voice over the phone. “If he doesn’t, or if it gets into somebody else’s hands…”

“He’ll drink it,” Wheeler assures Mox. “He always chugs the coffee when Door Dash brings it at 9:45. Like clockwork.”

“Is it the same person every time?” Mox asks. “Because if it is…”

Wheeler shakes his head. “Different people, and he never interacts with them.”

“Okay,” Mox says, exhaling. “Okay, this is gonna work. It’ll work.”

~

-10 days

“You want to what?!”

Mox glances around the sports bar. He’d never be caught dead in here, is the thing, which is why it works so well for cover. People all around them are screaming about some hockey game. They’re completely drowned out, and no security cameras in the place makes for the perfect hidden spot. “He’s gonna keep doing this shit if we don’t stop him,” he says quietly. “And if I leave him, I’m left with nothing, and so are you.” He glances around again. “The only way out of this is killing him.”

“That seems extreme,” Wheeler says, dark eyes panicked. “Mox, I know we both hate him, but – is murder the answer?”

“Legally?” Mox says, stretching out. Wheeler’s eyes slide to his tattoos, and Mox decides not to be too much of a dick about that. “No. Logically? Rationally? Hell, morally? Yeah. Yeah it fucking is.” He focuses his eyes on Wheeler’s. “You’ll lose your job at the gym if you tell him. His next of kin might promote you to manager if you kill him.”

Wheeler’s eyes widen. “You – really?”

Mox nods. “And nobody would suspect it. Not for a fuckin’ second. If I knew about you, I’d hate you, right? That’s what everybody would think. But if it’s you and me behind the scenes and everybody else thinks I’m just a grieving husband promoting my late husband’s best reviewed employee, nobody’ll look twice.”

Wheeler stares at a knot on the sticky wood table for a few minutes. “Okay.” He lifts his head, finally, to meet Mox’s eyes. “If you take care of the – of the logistics, I’ll do what I need to do to help.” He nods. “You swear I get the gym after this?”

“I’ll be owner in name only,” Mox says, sticking out his hand. “I mean, I need a little cash flow to pay the bills, but, other than that? It’s all you.”

Wheeler nods, shaking Mox’s hand without an ounce of hesitance. His grip is strong, which Mox should have expected, but then there’s a fascinating fire in his eyes that Mox wants to get to know better. “Okay,” Wheeler decides, nodding. “Okay.”

~

-12 days

The text comes at 7:30 before his match, when Mox is backstage smoking a cigarette.

“The fuck is that?” Eddie asks, leaning over to check his phone. “Everybody you know is either here or – well, wherever the fuck Claudio’s at.” He shakes his head and scoffs as he takes another drag of his cigarette. “Not here, I’m guessing.”

Mox exhales. “If I tell you something, your ass better shut the fuck up for the rest of your life about it, you hear?”

Eddie pauses. “Oh. That sounds interesting. Lay it on me.”

“He’s been fucking one of his employees. Told the kid I was dead.”

Eddie’s jaw drops, and Mox allows himself a moment to be pleased, because it’s hard to rattle Eddie with something as simple as words. “No fuckin’ shit.”

“None,” Mox replies. “You were right about him.”

“Yeah, but I’m not happy about it!” Eddie says. He chucks his cigarette to the ground and stops on it with the heel of his boots. “The fuck you gonna do about it?”

Mox wiggles his phone. “Answer this text, first.”

“You gonna give me, like, an ounce of detail for what that’s about?”

“This is Wheeler Yuta,” Mox says, shoving the phone to Eddie. “The sidepiece. The other man. The –”

“Fuck, I get it,” Eddie grumbles. He scans the text. “You guys are gonna meet up?”

Mox takes the phone back and nods. “Kid seemed pretty pissed about the whole thing. Didn’t like how he was sympathetic for a widower who was actually a sleazebag.” He looks at Eddie. “What’s with that look?”

“Just,” Eddie exhales and drops his head against the wall. “He fucked me around at the gym, then he cheats on you and pretends you’re dead?” He looks at Mox, eyes bright with anger. “This fucker deserves more than just a consequence.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Eddie says, “that you have a decision to make.”

~

-13 days

Mox is fidgety and panicked outside the Starbucks. It’s probably a terrible decision, harassing this kid at work. But a more terrible decision was fucking his husband, and the kid did that first. So.

He shoves open the door once the rest of the customers have left and the kid, Wheeler Yuta, looks up at him, almost bored.

“Are you here to rob us?” he asks cooly. “We’ve been watching you pace back and forth outside for, like, an hour.”

“Actually I’m here to ask why you’re fucking my husband.”

Dead silence.

The girl behind Yuta, one with brown and blue hair and admittedly impressive galaxy makeup on her face, steps away. “I’m gonna make the guess this doesn’t have to do with me,” she says, backing out of the situation, “but yell cantaloupe if you need help, Wheels.”

“It’s not me either,” Wheeler says. “I’m not fucking anybody married.”

Mox boils with rage.

“Oh, really?” Mox asks. He whips out the framed photo of he and Claudio kissing at their wedding in navy suits with matching floral patterned ties, then the one of the two of them showing off their rings in front of the courthouse. “You didn’t have this guy’s dick in your ass yesterday?”

Mox watches the kid – confusion, recognition, horror. He’s either the actor of a generation, or something far more insidious is happening here. “You’re – Claudio’s still married?” he asks, voice pinched. He braces himself on the counter. “This – no. He said he – he said…” He trails off. “Are you Jon?”

Mox nods slowly, unsure of where this is going. “Uh. Yeah. Jon Moxley. Formally Jon Castagnoli.”

Wheeler shakes his head, then barks out the coldest laugh Mox has ever heard. “He told me you died,” Wheeler mutters. He finally looks up at Mox. “He said he was a widower, that you died in some weird – I think he said incident with a table?”

Mox exhales long at that. “Of course. I’m a wrestler – I had a rough table spot a few years back, but it sure as shit didn’t kill me.” He clenches his fists, then realizes he’s mirroring the kid in front of him. Hunched over the counter, bearing the weight of life changing news.

“We should meet up and – and go over this more,” Mox says. He scrawls his number on a napkin and shoves it across to Wheeler. “A place you’re not at work.”

Wheeler nods, holding the paper in his hands. “Yeah. I’ll, uh. I’ll text you.”

“Hold that thought.” Mox pulls out his phone and changes his Pin number. Now it’s the date Claudio has been claiming Mox had “died.” “Alright. Text me any time. And please don’t fuck my husband again.”

Wheeler laughs, a little panicked. “I don’t plan on it.”

~

-14 days

“How was work?”

Mox does his best to keep a mild, disinterested look on his face as Claudio saunters into their kitchen. He’s covered in a sheen of sweat. Mox doesn’t want to know from what.

“Lovely, darling.” He leans in to kiss Mox, who makes the mistake of flinching. “Everything alright?”

“You’re sweaty,” Mox says, forcing a laugh. “As hot as you are, armpits are armpits.”

Claudio laughs, easy and jovial, and Mox wonders if this is how he feels after nailing the client. “Alright, alright, I’ll take a shower. Then dinner?”

Mox nods. “Was thinking we could order in – I’m feeling something Italian.”

“Hmm,” Claudio says. “I was thinking sushi.”

Mox refuses to let out the scathing remark that pops into his mind. “We could do sushi.”

Claudio empties his pockets onto the kitchen table, as always, and Mox does everything he can not to snap up the phone right now and demand an explanation. Claudio leans in and kisses his forehead. “After my shower, we’ll order.”

Mox nods and follows Claudio with his eyes until the water starts. He takes note of where everything on the table sits, then snatches the phone up. Long ago Claudio had admitted to using his birthday for every four-digit password, and it works in Mox’s favor. He scrolls through the messages as quickly as he can – everything is innocuous, other than his communications with Claudio, of course. Nothing’s in the texts, in the phone log.

At every noise, Mox’s head snaps up and he checks the hallway, ensures he can still hear the water running and Claudio’s warble of whatever pop song is popular right now.

Mox is taken back to a few weeks ago, when the gym had shifted from an 80s playlist to something more modern, and he’s horrified to realize it’s probably on the recommendation of Claudio’s boy toy.

His entire body goes cold.

“Playlists,” he mutters, opening Claudio’s Spotify app. He checks – and there it is. His heart races as he pulls up a playlist called Gym Songs. There’s only one collaborator, and Mox can’t help himself from smiling cruelly. These stupid Gen Zers not knowing basic internet safety. His entire name is there.

Wheeler Yuta.

“Stupid fuckin’ name,” Mox mutters. He opens the Facebook profile attached to the Spotify account and memorizes every detail he can. The kid is 26, works at the gym and a Starbucks around the corner from where Mox and Claudio live. Mox is disgusted even further – Claudio should know better than to fuck a employee. The kid’s got a degree in kinesiology, which Mox will have to google later, from some fancy private school. It stings.

He sets Claudio’s phone down after deleting the search history from Claudio’s Facebook and clearing the Spotify screen back to the home page.

He grabs his own phone, scrolling through random car videos on Instagram just for something to do.

“There we are,” Claudio says, beaming as he saunters back into the kitchen. He smells like the body wash Mox bought him for their anniversary a few weeks before, smoky sweet. Mox wants to squirt it into Claudio’s eyes. “Sushi, yes?”

Mox nods, holding up his phone. “Already got DoorDash ready.”

~

-14 days, 19 hours, 42 minutes, 8 seconds

Mox had expected this to be a sweet little surprise – grab the Swiss chocolates, put the pretty flowers in a vase, hold the card awkwardly so he can push open the door to his husband’s gym. It should have been flawless.

So why the fuck is Claudio bent over a twink-adjacent, too hot for his own good client in the owner’s office, railing him into oblivion?

Both grateful and infuriated by the small door window, Mox hightails it out of there and chucks the gifts in the trash.

“On our fuckin’ anniversary,” Mox grumbles, slamming the car door shut. He can’t decide if he wants Claudio to know he walked in on him, and instead drives himself home to stare at the bed he’s shared with a man he thought he knew.

[leelei1980]

Part 23- Beauty and the Freak

Wayne

Eddie

" He's going to fuckin flip Sweetheart, he is going to love this! It has been forever since he has been home for his actual birthday."I looked around the trailer at the decorations that we put up ,then over at Veronica as she shook sprinkles on the top of the birthday cake that we made Wayne.

" I hope so! I mean it's not perfect, but it is homemade and it was made with love." She turned and smiled, her face lighting up. " I think we did pretty good. Now hopefully I didn't fuck up the roast."

" It smells amazing. Pot roast is his favorite, we never have it because neither of us knows how to make it."

" I followed my mom's directions exactly. I am going to make a casserole too."

" Like what kind? One with vegetables and shit?"

She furrowed her eyes at me." Yes with vegetables and shit. You two bachelors don't eat enough fresh veggies, my mom recommended that I make it. She is worried about you guys getting proper nutrition."

I smiled. " That Lucy, always thinking of us. She is a good woman."

Ronnie threw a pot holder at me , which I easily dodged and put her hands on her hips. " She is already taken Munson."

I smirked and slowly walked over to her, grabbing her hips and pulling her up against me, her hips had to be one of my favorite parts of her body. She was always so self conscious, but I loved her hips , they were perfect for grabbing onto to pull her close,or to hold onto while we were getting'intimate'. Her curves were so goddamn sexy. "You are all the woman I need Sweetheart. You take such, " I kissed the top of her head." Good,"

I kissed the tip of her nose." Care of me , in every, and I mean every possible way." I took her face in my hands and kissed her lips. I felt her arms wrap around my neck, and her tongue part my lips as she deepened the kiss. She pinned me up against the counter and pressed herself against me.     Goddamn. I ran my hands down her sides than grabbed onto her ass and gave it a squeeze. She made the cutest little noise. Her teeth lightly grazed my lower lip as she pulled away. " Fuuck baby."

" Got to take care of my man." She smiled then backed away. " Alright Munson, time to focus, got to get these veggies chopped up."

" Do you need my help?"

" I would love your help." I watched her  get the cutting board out from the cupboard, I swear she knows her way around this kitchen better than I do, then she took some kind of yellow squash out of a bag and started slicing it up.

I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, I put my chin on her shoulder. " Your doing a wonderful job."

" I thought you were helping?"

" I am, didn't you hear my words of encouragement ?"

" I did. If you don't want to chop can you grab me a casserole dish? "

" What the fuck is a casserole dish?"

She laughed." Do you have a glass baking dish?”

" Oh , yeah." I let go oh her then went to a cupboard and took out what I thought she was looking for then brought it over to her. She thanked me with a peck on the cheek then went back to work. I went back to my position behind her and watched as she methodically chopped and layered vegetables in the pan, poured some soup mixture over the top then covered it in foil. I took it from her then placed it in the oven.

I helped clean up the kitchen then hopped up on the counter and sat and she stood in front of me , back against my chest , head in the crook of my neck. I wrapped my arms around her and snuggled her in, she was warm cozy and I buried my face in her hair. She smelled so good.

" Thank you Princess."

" For what?"

" For this. For helping me throw this together for Wayne's birthday."

" Oh Ed's you don't need to thank me. Wayne is the best. I am happy to help."

" It just means a lot, he's all I got."I squeezed her tight.

" Was all you've got, you've got Lucy and Bill and me now." She tilted her head and kissed my cheek.

Wayne

I opened the door to my old beat up, shit box of a truck and couldn't help but notice the aroma of something cooking in the air. Boy did it smell good. It was making my stomach growl, I hadn't eaten anything in hours and was starving.

I shut the door then made my way up the steps on our small front porch, I could hear laughter and music playing in the background and I smiled to myself. This is what a home should sound like. I opened the door to walk inside and was greeted by." Happy Birthday Uncle Wayne!"

I stepped inside and saw that the kids had decorated with banners and streamers and balloons for my birthday. I was so touched. Eddie was sitting on the counter, arms wrapped around Veronica, she was leaning against him,huge smiles on both of their faces. They were so cute together. I have never seen my boy so happy, so settled. He was in love, and it was real. I could tell by his demeanor, his attitude. He was a different kid.He was doing well in school, he was actually going graduate this year. I had Veronica to thank for that. She made him focus and kept him grounded. He needed that, especially because I wasn't around nearly enough, and I always felt horrible about it. I wished that I could have been home more , but times were hard and bills needed to be paid. Eddie always seemed to understand.

" You kids didn't need to do all this!"

" Of course we did, it's your birthday!" Veronica smiled." They are meant to be celebrated!" She walked over and gave me a hug, Eddie right behind her.

" Thank you sweet girl." I gave her a squeeze then backed away and pat Eddie on the back. " Thanks kid."

" Your welcome." Eddie smiled. " Your in for a real treat tonight. Ronnie made a pot roast, she even made some other vegetable casserole thing, and we made you a cake."

" It smells amazing, I can't wait."

" Hopefully it comes out ok, I hope I didn't screw it up, I have never cooked a roast before."

" It's going to be perfect Princess." Eddie kissed the top of her head.

" It should be just about done, I'm going to check it." Veronica went to the oven and Eddie went to the cupboard and took down plates , started setting the table.

I couldn't help but smile." Eating at the table, fancy."

Eddie laughed." I know right?"

" I think it is done!" Veronica started pulling dishes out of the oven and it made the trailer smell wonderful.

I walked up beside her and smiled,"That looks fantastic Sweetie. I can't wait to sink my teeth into it."

She turned to me and beamed."Hopefully it taste as good as it looks!"

" I am sure it will."

I put a couple potholders on the table and helped her carry over the dishes.

" Wow babe, that veggie casserole thing actually looks good." Eddie started digging in, I couldn't blame the kid. It was a rare occasion that we actually ate home cooked meals, and rarely together.

We filled our plates than dug in. The first bite I took brought a smile to my face. " You did good sweet girl, real good. This is delicious."

We chatted as we ate, the kids telling me about school and the upcoming Senior Prom, I was happy to hear that Eddie would be attending it this year. It was wonderful to be sitting at the table eating and talking and laughing as a family. I may look like a gruff, grumpy old man but deep down I have a soft spot, and this made my heart feel happy.

When we were finished dinner the kids made me go into the living room to relax and ' let my food settle ' so that I would be ready for cake, while they did the dishes. I was more entertained watching them than I was the tv. Eddie would scoop up a handful of bubbles and put them on Ronnie's nose, he would laugh hysterically then she wouldn't blow them off and put them on his head. I loved sitting back and watching them interact when they had no idea that I was watching. They were such a good match, Eddie always so full of energy and Ronnie, a nice calming presence. They always seemed to be laughing and joking, sharing loving looks and gestures. This is exactly what I wanted for him.

" Ready for cake Wayne?" Veronica asked from the kitchen

" Anytime you are Sweetie."

" Ok then close your eyes!" I heard a lighter flickering, then heard the kids start to sing Happy Birthday. By the time they got to me Veronica said " Ok now open 'em!"

" Surprise!" Eddie was smiling, as he held a chocolate cake with a million sprinkles on it and just as many candles on it. " Make a wish!"

I blew out the candles in one deep breath, not bad for an old man that smoked as much as I do.

" What did you wish for?" Eddie asked.

" He can't tell you or it won't come true!"

" I didn't have to wish for anything. I already have everything I need right here. This was perfect ,thank you guys."

Eddie pat me on the back, " Your welcome old man."

I smirked." Smartass, now why don't you cut us some of that delicious looking cake."

" You got it boss."

I took a big bite and it tasted as good as it looked. This was the best birthday ever.

[plentyoffandoms]

No One Else (Part 4)

Eddie Kingston x f/Reader

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Gifs & photos do not belong to me.

Warnings: Some swearing. Jealous Eddie.

Story idea & request by @ecarroll1978

Main Masterlist ♡ AEW Masterlist ♡ Eddie Kingston Masterlist ♡ No One Else Masterlist

Summary: f/Reader & Eddie have been dating for awhile now but Eddie doesn't like how close Jay Briscoe are. They eventually get into a massive fight.

Eddie Kingston’s POV:

I waited for Jon to come and get me. I thought about leaving but I just knew he would track me down and then beat my ass up and take me back to YN. I knew he was here because I could hear a few wrestling fans say that Jon Moxley was here. That Dean Ambrose was here. 

I could see the angry look of one my best friends heading my way. A few fans tried to stop him for autographs but he was having none of that today. 

“Get up Eddie. It is time to leave.” 

Like I would actually be that stupid to do that?

I nodded my head yes at him and left the rest of my beer on the table. Before we left, I made sure to pay my tab and leave the waitress a good tip.

Jon was actually gripping my shoulder to make sure I didn’t try to run away from him. 

But then again, I never thought I would ever accuse YN of ever cheating on me and calling her nasty names outside of the bedroom. 

Jon and I got to his truck and he practically forced me into the passenger seat and instructed me not to move as he went to his side of truck. 

He started to drive and I noticed that the route was not towards my house, but towards his. Shit, that means YN is there and so is Renee, who is probably going to kill me.

“So you want to tell me what brought all this on?” 

“I don’t even know man. Just the thought of YN being with Jay made me think all of these ridiculous thoughts. It’s like any time he is in town, they are hanging out together and my thoughts just got the best of me.”

“Are you not the one who is telling me that YN is asking you to come hang out with her and Jay?”

“Yeah.” I said meekly.

“That woman adores you more than you will ever realize Eddie. She loves you and wants to be with you. That is why she called me. If she didn’t care about you, she would of just packed up your stuff and left them on the pavement for the garbage men.”

I hate how he is right. 

“I wouldn’t forgive me if I was her.” I said as I looked out the window. 

“I wouldn’t if I was her, but she knows this isn’t like you. She knows that it is just your thoughts getting to you.”

I put my head in my hands and groaned. “I have so much I have to do to make it up to her.” 

“Yes you fuckin’ do and that I can’t help you on. Now once we get to my place, I will try to hold Renee back but you know how she is.”

I had nothing to say as I already knew deep down inside, that Renee was going to get one hit in. 

And boy was I right. We pulled into his driveway, and I was barely out of the truck and the front door opened and out came Renee, running full speed at me. 

Her hand making direct contact with my cheek. She smacked me so hard my head flung to the side and almost hit the seat. 

“RENEE!” John and YN yelled.

But she just ignored them. “You are very lucky the two of them are here because if they weren’t you would have a kitchen knife cutting off your dick right now Edward Moore.”

I gulped and looked down at her. I knew she was serious and I am forever in Jon’s debt as he picked her up and moved her away from me into the house. 

Now it is just YN and I. 

She had her arms crossed but she was rubbing her upper arms, a nervous habit of hers as well as her biting her lip. 

“Eddie,” the sound of my name leave her lips brought on the tears as I walked slowly towards her. 

“I am so sorry YN. I have no idea what came over me.” I was on my hands and knees, with my arms wrapped her legs. 

At first she didn’t know what to do as she was in shock, but then I felt my hat being moved off of my head and her hand rubbing my head. 

“Please forgive me love. I will do everything in my power to make it up to you.” I said into her stomach. 

“Eddie, we will have to work this out and get past this.”

“I will do anything.”

“Anything?” YN asked with an eyebrow raised. 

I nodded my head yes as I looked into her eyes. She was staring into mine and I have no idea why this woman could or should ever forgive me. 

Her hand cupped my cheek and she stroked it with her thumb. “Eddie, I think you need to take some time off of work. We need some us time.”

She is probably right. This is probably why this all happened and my stupid fucked up head and thoughts. 

“I love you YN. You are too good for me.”

“Oh baby, no I am not. We are perfect for one another. I love you. You own my heart and no one else could ever come close to that.” 

“I will talk to Tony first thing tomorrow morning and take some time off of work.”

“That is all I ask, now stand up so you can kiss me properly.” I stood up and pulled her into my arms and I kissed her, pouring all my heart and soul into the kiss. 

“Lets go home Eddie. You can make it up to me by doing that thing I like.” She said with a wicked smile. I groaned at the thought of that. I fucking love doing it and she knows it. 

“I promise to pleasure you for hours baby to make up for being such a shitty boy friend to you.” 

“Oh, I can’t wait. Let’s go handsome.” YN took my hand in hers and I followed her to her car. 

As we drove home, I realized I will have to head to the bar tomorrow to get my car and come by Jon and Renee’s place to say sorry to them. 

Final Part

Tag List: if you would like to be added, please let me know. @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan @lghockey @lilaviolet @iloveeddiekingston @sparkleva25 @jazzy-bella02 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @wwenhlimagines @hungmanhorsecarriage @ecarroll1978 @anaeve @crowleysqueenofhell @baybay-boom

[avintagekiss24]

GOOD STUFF || ANDY BARBER

pairing: Andy Barber x black!reader || word count: 3,798 || warnings: smut, sex, slight degradation, cum play, public sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, crying kink, praise kink || request: #39 - “they have good stuff down at the farmers market” w/ lawyer daddy Andy

authors note: back on my bullshit with this man. this is the first 4k celebration fic! i actually got this request some time last week when I first reblogged one of the prompt lists. inspiration for the sexy time came from @honeychicanawrites​ headcanon (🥴🤤 so fucking good), line divider by @firefly-graphics​!

You tap your fingernails against the open refrigerator door as you bite the inside of your cheek, your eyes bouncing around. You push a few items around, open the drawers, then move more items around, failing to find anything particularly appetizing. You could order a pizza; or chinese - Andy loves Chinese… but you know he’s been in court all week, his long days turning even longer; he can’t even relax when he’s home. The jury has been out for two days, and he’s worried. A home cooked meal is exactly what he needs.

You close the refrigerator and spin on your heel, grabbing your keys from the table and sling your purse over your shoulder and chest. You smile gently to yourself as you move out into the garage, hearing Andy’s voice in your head. Again? What is it with you and that farmers market?

It’s a short drive to your favorite little market, and within twenty minutes your nose is full of the fresh smell of fruits and vegetables, your fingers wrapped around a small basket. The air is crisp as autumn starts to blow through, the leaves on the trees all burnt oranges and browns, but the breeze is unseasonably warm. You browse slowly, stopping more frequently than not to pick up a ripe tomato, or an ear of corn just to smell them.

You scan through recipes mentally as you move through the large, crowded market picking up a little of everything on your way. Your phone buzzes in your hand, Andy’s name flashing across the front as you turn it over.

“Babe?” You say gently as you lift the sleek phone to your ear. Your stomach drops a little - it’s hours before he’s supposed to be home. The decision is in.

“We won.” Is all he says and you can hear the relief in his voice.

You close your eyes and tilt your head upwards, a smile on your face, “I knew you would baby. I’m so happy for you.”

“Well, you were the only one that knew,” his low chuckle rumbles in your ear, “I need to get the fuck out of here before I pull my hair out.”

“I’m at the store, so I’ll meet you at the house.”

He pauses, “Again?”

“What do you mean again?” you laugh, “I haven’t been to the store this week.”

“I know you better than that, you’re at the damn market again.”

You laugh, “They have good stuff down at the farmers market.”

You can practically hear his eyes roll, “I’ll meet you there in twenty.”

“No, babe, just go home and take a nice long shower.” You start, smiling as you pass a twenty to the young girl at the stand, “Get in your sweats - just relax. You can turn on some stupid Eddie Murphy movie and fall asleep with your hand down your pants and I won’t even complain.” His laugh travels through your ears and you can’t help but smile, “You deserve it.”

You can hear the soft click of his briefcase in the background, his steps against the marble floors of the courthouse, “I’ll meet you in twenty. Love you.”

The phone clicks before you can get out another word. You shake your head but smile as you slide the phone into your purse and start to move towards the front, to wait for him.

Andy Barber is nothing but punctual. Twenty minutes on the dot you spot his black Audi pulling into the parking lot and another smile spreads on your face. You continue to watch as he emerges from the front seat, pulling off his suit jacket and throwing it in the back seat before he slides his sunglasses over his eyes. He moves around the back of the car, undoing his cufflinks and rolling his sleeves up his forearms as he walks.

Your core tightens as you look him up and down, having to take a deep breath and expel it out of your nostrils to combat the sudden heat that flushes through your body. Your smile widens when he lifts his head and smirks at you, wiggling his eyebrows as he approaches.

He reaches for you, holding out his large hand and without thinking, you slide your smaller palm into his, letting him pull you into his hard body, “Hey baby.” His voice is deep, slow - tired.

You squeeze him, letting out another deep breath, “Hey, you.” You lean back after a few seconds, cupping his face in your palm as your eyes move around his face, “You look tired.”

He nods slowly, running his hand through his hair before he smiles softly at you again, “Nothing I can’t handle. Come on.”

“Lynn is going to give you a break, right? Is she gonna give some stuff to Neal for a change?”

He cuts his eyes at you at the sound of his name, “Not if anything big comes along, but yeah, she will.”

He links his fingers with yours, holding your hand tight as the two of you start to move down the aisle of the market. The breeze whips around you as the two of you make small talk, you careful not to bring up the case unless he does. You know it’s the last thing he wants to talk about. Taking your cues from him, you watch him out of the corner of your eye as he pokes and prods at random pieces of fruit. You run your hand up and down his long arm, up over his shoulder and massage the back of his neck as he pays for some blueberries, popping a few into his mouth as you laugh.

“I told you not to do that,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his back, “You need to wash them first.”

He shrugs and thanks the older woman before he pulls you around his body, tucking you into his side as he throws his arm over your shoulder. He kisses your forehead, “You look cute today.”

You laugh again, “Don’t ignore me, you can get sick from doing that, Andy!” He tickles the back of your exposed thigh, making you jump and squeal, giggles falling from your lips, “Andrew Barber!”

“That’s my name, you can totally wear it out.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh again, rolling your eyes, “What a fuckin’ nerd.”

“I’m a nerd because I like hearing you scream my name?” He asks seriously, stopping in front of you.

Your mouth drops open as your eyes widen, “Shhh!” you hiss, looking around, “Keep your voice down!”

He wraps you back up in his arms, pushing his chest and crotch into you, “Okay,” he whispers, “I’m gonna fuck you into the mattress when we get home.”

His words suck the air right out of your lungs. Your lips part as you blink back at him, your face hot, your legs turning to jelly at just the thought. You inhale sharply, a dumbstruck look on your face as your mind goes blank. He laughs at you, “Cat got your tongue, baby?”

“Andy,” Is all you can mutter.

He sucks his teeth, glancing over the top of your head as he sneaks his hand up into your skirt, palming your ass, making you gasp, “I haven’t fucked you all week. I’m horny, my cock misses you.” He purrs into your ear, gently swaying the two of you back and forth.

You exhale hard. Your eyes skirt around the market as your heart starts to beat faster, the blood rushing in your ears. He pinches your ass, then slides his hand slowly around your hip before he cups your sex, his fingers rubbing your slit through your panties.

The air chokes in your throat. You hear him grunt softly as your panties start to stick to your skin. He chuckles before he leans down to kiss your lips, “Such a responsive girl. Come, let’s get you home, hm?”

He grabs your hand, linking your fingers with his as he takes a few steps, “Better yet,” he says, bopping your nose with his index finger before he grabs your wrist and starts to pull you through the aisles in the opposite direction.

You follow behind him, almost having to jog to keep up with his long gait. He pulls you out of the small market and crosses the street, looking both ways as you run behind a few moving cars. He pulls you between two office buildings, stopping and turning suddenly to grab your face and crash his lips to yours. You drop the bags carrying your food around your feet, moaning into his mouth as you squeeze his sides.

He backs you into the brick building behind you, lifting your leg by your thigh and throwing it over his hip. You can’t object - you can’t find the words. You just wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him to you as he nips at your neck, right underneath your jaw - just how you like it. You tilt your head towards the sky, grunting softly as you arch your back from the wall, pushing your hips into his.

He grips your thigh tight, his wedding ring pressing into your skin - searing your flesh. He bites down into the crook of your neck and you jump from the sudden pain, your mouth falling open, a sharp moan slipping from your lips. He chuckles, deeply, slowly, into your ear as he runs his fingers over your pussy, palming your hot sex through your underwear, “You like that, baby?”

He leans back, his blue eyes bouncing back and forth between your dark eyes as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. He circles your clit, pressing the pads of his fingers against your heat. You roll your hips into his hand as you pant heavily, trying to keep your eyes linked with his. You have to sink your teeth into your own lip to stop yourself from getting loud - and he loves it. He loves doing this to you in the worst places.

He grabs your lips with his again, kissing you hard - his velvet tongue sweeping over your lip and the roof of your mouth as he finally pushes your panties to the side, “Andy-” you hiss, sucking in air as he pushes his fingers through your sticky folds, “Fuck, Andy.”

“Can you be a quiet girl? Hmm?” He asks softly, turning his head slightly to glance towards the sidewalk, “Can you be good for me?”

You nod quickly, completely out of breath and nearly vibrating from the lust pooling in your stomach, “Yes.” You whisper hard.

You drop your eyes to his crotch, watching as his hands start to undo his belt and pop the button of his expensive slacks. You whine audibly - digging your fingers into his shoulders in anticipation of that pretty cock. He pulls himself free and you could melt into a puddle. He’s hard, and long - thick - his tip shiny and wet from the droplets of precum that have dribbled out. He wraps his hand around his girth, stroking himself slowly - from his base to the tip, sweeping his fingers over his slit.

“Andy,” you beg, pushing your hips into him, wanting to feel him spread you open, “Please, baby.”

He smiles.

He slips his cock through your folds, rubbing your clit with his tip before he pushes at your opening. He flicks his eyes up to you and rests his forehead against yours - his lips brushing over your swollen lips, “You gonna be a quiet girl?”

“Yes!”

He licks your lips with his hot tongue, “Good girl.”

He pushes slowly and you help - sinking down onto his thick cock - letting him spread your tight, wet muscles. Your eyes flutter - your mouth drops open as he occupies your depth, filling you right up. You wrap your arms around his neck again as he nuzzles into the side of your face, his soft beard rubbing against your cheek, adding to your desire. You dig your fingers into his hair, grabbing a handful to gip as he starts to move, pulling completely out of your cunt before he delves back in.

You can’t help the moans that fall from your lips and fill the air as his hips push you slightly up the wall. You keep your leg thrown over his hip as he fucks into you, one of his hands around your throat, the other flattened on the bricks to hold his weight. He pushes the tip of his thumb into your mouth, and you bite down before you push your tongue along it, inviting him to shove the rest of it in so you can suck on it.

“You are such a good girl,” he grunts into your ear, nibbling and pulling on your earlobe.

Your heart jumps into your throat at the praise, your chest swelling with pride. You are such a good girl. He continues to pound his hips into yours, bouncing you up and down on his dick as he lifts your hand, his fingers playing with the big, shiny rock on your finger. He kisses it before shoving your fingers into his mouth, a thick, heavy moan scratching at the back of his throat.

A shiver runs the length of your spine as his tongue swirls around your thin digits, his hips still digging into yours. Your slick muscles start to squeak from the wetness; from his warmth pushing and pulling from you, filling every inch of space your sweet pussy has to offer. You can feel your arousal slipping down the inside of your thigh, thick and warm, a mixture of your slick and his seed.

Andy pushes deep inside of you, halting his hard rhythm to wiggle his hips slowly, wanting to go deeper - to feel every part of you. He leans back again, his eyelids low as he watches you squirm. A slow smirk covers his mouth as he pumps his hips just once, pushing deep again, “Do I feel good?”

His voice is husky - full and silky as he teases you. You nod as your head swims, your stomach and chest tight, your clit swollen and achy, begging to be touched. You writhe, pushing your tits and hard nipples into his chest and roll your hips, catching the faintest touch of his pants against your bundle of nerves, making you shiver again. He slams into you unexpectedly and you squeal, digging your nails into his bare forearm.

“I asked you a question,” he murmurs, his words slightly slurred as his own arousal gets the best of him, “Do I feel good to you, baby?”

“You know you do, Andy, baby,” you groan, rolling your hips again, “S’good.”

He slips his hand down your body and between your legs, pushing his fingers against your clit and begins to rub you slowly, his eyes staying on yours, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “You like being my little whore, don’t you baby girl? Hmm?”

You grunt at the words. Your body tenses as your lust and need of him unfurls in your stomach. This man - this reticent, straight-laced, uptight man turns into the absolute devil at the sight of you - and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Gone are the eloquent speeches he laces together on almost a whim to charm and convince his jury. All that’s left are the dirty, lush, hot words that strike you to your core. It must be the Gemini in him.

You pull your hips back, his cock sliding out of you before you roll back onto him, pushing that fat cock back in, “I love being your whore.” You whisper, biting your lip just as the last word slips between your teeth.

He shutters. You feel it roll through him and you can’t help but smile. You love this little game.

Andy hisses as he pulls out of you slowly and jams himself back in, nipping at your mouth with his as he starts his pace again. His fingers continue to push against your clit, rough and quick as your octave starts to rise. He stops suddenly, shaking his head as he places his index finger to his lips, “Be a quiet girl.” He reminds you, his voice hushed, “Or you won’t get anymore.”

You sink your teeth into your lip again and nod frantically, urging him to move. You wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders, pulling his chest into yours and slam your eyes closed as he sends you on a journey. He fucks into you hard and fast, grunting and growling in your ear as your cunt tightens around him.

“Fuckin’ hell, girl,” he mutters, his chest tight, his large palm gripping and pinching your thigh.

You slam your hand over your mouth to muffle your cries as shockwaves start to roll through you. Each pulse of your orgasm gets harder and more intense, your legs shaking, your hips jerking into his as it washes over you. Your choked mewls fill the small area between the two buildings that shield you from view as you arch your back away from the wall, pushing your thick nipples into his hard chest.

“You want my cum, baby? Hmm?” He asks, his voice strained, “You crave my cum, don’t you girl? That’s right,” he breathes, “You love my cum.”

It isn’t long after that - the convulsions of your heat, the slick of your femininity - coax his untethering. His strokes punctuate each spit of his cock, his thick, silky cum filling you up to the very brim. He grunts, low and deep - scratchy - as his dick jumps inside of you, giving you every ounce of him. He slips out of you seconds later and falls to his knees, pulling your short, flowy skirt up to your waist.

He pulls your panties down, leaving them in the middle of your thighs before he pushes your legs open as wide as they can go. He grabs your arms and wraps them over your stomach, holding your wrists in one of his hands, pushing them into you to keep you still as the other hand slips through your folds. You squeeze your muscles tight, wanting to keep every drip of him inside but it trickles out, running down your thigh.

“Aww baby,” he coos, flicking his eyes up to yours, “That pretty little pussy is so full! You need me to help you keep it all in, don’t you? You always need daddy’s help.”

You whimper, pushing your hips into his face as he drags his fingers up your thigh, collecting his cum, pushing it back up to your messy pussy. He shoves his thick fingers into you, groaning loudly as you tense and jump - still sensitive, still reeling from your shattering orgasm. He pumps his fingers inside of you, staring at your wet, sticky, puffy cunt, sucking his teeth and moaning all the while.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” he praises, still holding your arms tight so you can’t move, “You are such a good girl, taking my cum like that. I love how well you take my cum.”

You pant hard, your face breaking as emotion starts to roll down your cheeks. You cry softly as he fingers your delicate, sore cunt, pushing his cum back inside of you. You start to shiver, whimpering and crying as you rest your head against the wall, tilting your head towards the sky. It feels so good to be so full of him - his fingers, his cum - it just feels so damn good.

His tongue skirts across your clit and you sob, your body jerking at the sudden spark of electricity that flashes through you, “Oh my god,” you cry, “Andy.”

He sucks your clit into his mouth, sucking hard before he pulls away with a loud smack - moaning as he watches his fingers plunge in and out of you, “You’ve earned this baby girl,” he says softly, “For being such a good girl while I was working. I hate neglecting you.” He moans again as he pushes his face into your sex, sucking your flesh back into his mouth before he pulls away again, “You are my favorite girl in the whole world.”

You cum again within minutes, all over his fingers and face, his soft hums vibrating through you as he laps it up. Your legs are jelly as he kisses the insides of your thighs and down to your knee as he continues pushing his fingers in and out of you, curling them gently, massaging your taut muscles.

He thumbs your clit as he peppers kisses up and down your leg. Your clit stings from the stimulation, your heart pounds in your chest - the sound of your heartbeat filling your ears. When he knows you’ve had enough, when you can barely stand any longer, he pulls his fingers from you. He kisses your swollen cunt sweetly before he stands and pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your body.

He hugs you tightly, his large hands sweeping up and down your back, “I love you so much,” he whispers softly, dropping kisses along your forehead and cheeks, over your nose, in the corners of your mouth, “I love you so, so much. You know that, right? I can’t ever get enough of you, baby.”

You ball his shirt in your hand as he lifts you from your feet, wrapping your legs around his waist. You’re a crying mess - unable to verbalize your love for him, but you know that he just knows. He holds you tight, rubbing your back slowly as you nuzzle into his neck. He only sits you back on your feet once you’ve calmed down, hovering over you, his thumbs wiping at your cheeks to remove the wetness of your tears. He cups your face in his hands and kisses you gently, purring as a smile tugs at his lips.

“Your lips are always so soft after you cry.”

You smile soft, your eyes still closed as you run your hands up and down his veiny, hairy forearms - still grounding yourself, “Yours are always soft.”

He smiles, warm and gentle, making you swoon like you were back in college, laying eyes on him for the very first time. He pushes his hands along the sides of your face again, both of his thumbs brushing over your plump lips, “Let me drive you home.”

“I’m fine,” you giggle, “Just grab the bags for me, please.”

“I don’t want you driving.” He brings your hand to his lips, kissing the backs of your fingers, “I’ll come get your car later. Come.”

His tone is stern. You know better than to argue with the best district attorney in all of Massachusetts.

[nagdabbit]

MY GIRLFRIEND'S COMMENTARY WHILE WATCHING HER FIRST AEW PPV

"my entire fitness goal is hook's shoulder-waist ratio, but with taz's extremely dense neck."

"the funniest thing about wrestling is that this fucking company is trying to make something called a stadium stampede sound both cool, AND serious."

gf: "if you cry listening to a crowd sing judas again, im divorcing you." me: "so that means youre gonna marry me." gf: "i've been bamboozled."

about brian cage: "this man is a huge dork. like, literally, i could fit me in him."

"i dunno what it is, but i would die to protect mr. hangman. he hunk, but he also baby."

thoughtfully, "i bet i could just catch you out of the air like that. i mean, i can squat you, i could probably even curl you like that, too."

because she is deeply in wrestling twitter now: "HOOK! babe, look, its hook! hook hive, rise up!"

"what i love about this feud is that all these men are fuckin' idiots. no brain cells, just shoes and fwiendship."

"what do you mean their tag team isn't just the wild boys, wtf? missed opportunity."

"those kicks are ugly, but i would steal them, too, honestly." *thirty seconds of silence layer* "for you, babe. i'd steal them for you, i mean."

"jon, no, the germs, jon, jesus christ, please dont drink that jon you dumbass."

"i love eddie, but i'm pretty sure we should never hang out. too much extremely new york energy, we would get arrested in like ten minutes. possibly less."

"diorsday device is the funniest shit ive ever fucking heard, how goddamn sad is that."

"max caster is gonna get murdered, but i love him."

"i wish bowens and his extremely attractive boyfriend the best in life."

"colt cabana and tay conti are tied for best smile in wrestling, but tay wins because i dont want colt to kick me in the face."

"penta is the only joker i formally recognize."

"today i found out that some people don't like stu and uno, and to them i say get entirely fucked."

after rush came out and i lost my entire shit: "i don't fully understand yet, but i support you." *one minute later* "oooooooooooohh. okay, yeah."

gf: "i enjoy that cody is pushing ogogo by being a dumb bitch with this america schtick." me: "you gonna say that when cody wins?" gf: "...fuck."

"ogogo got that guy ritchie movie ass music you love to see it."

"you were right about cody and i fuckin' hate it."

"aw yeah, its big boi season."

about miro: "i'm very gay, but the thing is, men with extremely jacked traps just do something to me."

"lance changed changed the color of his extensions and i appreciate that." *thirty seconds later* "are those... three crosses? tattooed on his back? jesus doesnt like murder, i don't think he likes murderhawks, either."

"britt baker is the only dentist i want in my mouth. no, wait, don't type that one!"

"oh, fuck, shidas getting teary i'm gonna fuckin cry, oh fuck, i get it now, i'm so sorry i made fun of you, i love her."

"oh fuck, shida knee me directly in the face."

"britt scares me. like the blood drip details on her gear are really cool, but i would legit believe its real blood from her."

"are you really crying about britt and the nice announcer man hugging?"

"hey, quick question, just real quick while ive got you here... why is the emo twink... like this?"

"darby's dad looks like my dad, and i'll never be okay with that."

"i like that darby just yeets himself around like that. he came in like a wrecking ball. a tiny, tiny wrecking ball."

"sting just tossing his son around the ring like that is very good, but, sir, that's bad parenting."

"the thing about sky and page is that these are the suburb guys i beat up at the beach on summer vacation. they have big "i robbed these guys at the pier" energy."

"damn, darby just feels his emotion with his entire face, doesnt he."

"okay explain the gambling thing and WHY it's a thing."

"orange rolling into the ring is so fucking good, that man is national treasure."

after me showing her the video of younger orange cassidy shitfaced and holding a fish for no reason: "i am shocked and appalled that you're only showing me this now."

after explaining the history of the jansport: "the range of this dumbass."

"i get that kenny is good and all, but his hair really fucks me up. it's upsettingly bad and i hope he knows that."

"pac is just. so much muscle. flippy beef man. a meateor." she did specify how to spell it for the joke because it was important.

"that man is a weeb, isnt he."

"something about a man breaking a hold by putting his hands in his pockets really gets me hype."

"fuck just murder omega and be done i hate this, put it on the beef man or the juicey boy already."

"babe, ill be right back i gotta murder this callis bitch."

screaming, "THAT'S MY FAVORITE REF, YOU UGLY FUCK!"

after kenny won: "i fucking hate wrestling, this is bullshit."

"holy fuck, babe, i forgot mark henry was a wrestle boy! i know him from the olympics!"

"hey, is mark henry bigger than large paul?"

"mjf is a dumb bitch and i love him."

"hey, quick question, who thought repelling down the stadium would look cool, they're so far away."

"there's wardlow, my sweet boy. this is cool now."

she laughed for a solid two minutes at tony schiavone saying, "here comes the little guy."

"i fuckin hate hager. kill him wardlow, kill that crispy maga ass bitch."

"okay what's with the chairs." *after a brief explanation of the chairshot heard round the world* "and, like, he can't just pick a new gimmick? it's been two years, bro. move on, shes not coming back."

"okay, i admit that this is great and i love it, kill that old man on the dancefloor."

upon learning this is technically the main event: "you mean it's over after this? theyre ending the show on THIS? not the triple threat match, this?"

"i just noticed mjf's bedazzled jeans, i'm not angry anymore, this is perfect."

"no, more wardlow. gimme the beef."

"christ, sammy guevara is kinda incredible and i'm fuckin angry about it. why cant inner circle be just sammy and santana and ortiz, fuck the other two."

"no, shut up! i refuse to sing along to this! whats wrong with you?! this is a bad song!"

[justasimplesinner]

Please for the love of fuck give me a happy ending to the riddler/scarecrow breaking hcs that may or may not start off with the reader running into them again and being understandably pissed. I just want to throw a vase at Eddie. I can have a mature conversation with Johnathan with some raised voices and some crying from both parties but I want to throttle that green goblin lookin motherfucker. I want to see fear in that man's eyes as I curbstomp his stank ass for living in my head and never paying rent. Cause that shit broke me no pun intended.

I'm a soft bitch I need someone to put a bandaid on the hurtie and kiss is to make it feel better.

ugh, you fuckin' softies. continuation of this post

Arkham Knight!Riddler getting his happy ending hcs:

like i stated in the previous post, you two may have not been together anymore, but that didn't mean he'd leave you alone. you were the last bit of his sanity, at this point, he didn't know how to live without you. he was constantly lying to himself and you about the motives behind his calls and visits, but truth was, he was just trying to cling on. he couldn't let you go, you were his raft in the middle of the fucking ocean, if he let you go, he'd... he wouldn't survive that. he didn't know how

but it doesn't mean that this whole thing sat well with you. fucking bastard, neglects you for years, treats you like the very dirt he walks on and now has the gall to fucking invade your private space? ruin you completely? it's like it didn't matter if you were with him or not, he'd still find a way to fucking destroy you. and you, on one hand, genuinely wanted out. you wanted him out of your life, because you had only one and you didn't want to live it in misery, you didn't want to just suffer and take it like a good puppy. you weren't even sure he realised the extent to which he fucking hurt you, because he was constantly focusing on himself and no one else, because selfishness was his coping mechanism and he wouldn't change

it was only logical that at some point, you'd have enough. you didn't want to fucking live like this. he didn't have a right to just sit there and do nothing and yet simultaneously do damage. he was a grown fucking man and it was time he made a grown fucking choice

– Well, well, well, look who decided to finally show up-... – you didn't give him the chance to finish, your fist connecting hard with his nose, or maybe it was his cheek, though you hoped it was his eye so it'd hurt the most. You didn't really know, you didn't really care, you've had fucking enough. You knew he was there, in your house, before he even opened his yapping mouth, and you didn't fancy being greeted in your only safe (or, apparently, not-so-safe) space by a fucking insult from the man responsible for all your current misery.

You didn't feel a pang of regret, quite the contrary, his stumbling form and widened eyes gave you this weird feeling of satisfaction. You kind of understood why Batman did what he did, beating Ed's ass was just too rewarding.

– I've had fucking enough of you and your stupid charade! – you didn't plan on beating around the bush anymore, it was time he was fucking faced with the consequences of what he did.

He didn't have the time to recover from your last blow before the first thing you could grab collided with his shoulder - a vase, apparently, and it shattered into small pieces upon impact. Great, now he fucking ruined your favourite vase, too, as if your life wasn't enough for him!

– You have no right to fucking invade my house and treat me like shit even after I've dumped you! – with every word, with every step you took forward, he took one back, eyes wide in genuine fear as he tried to back away from you, maintain a safe distance, as if anything could save him from your wrath now.

– If I mean nothing to you, then why the fuck are you even here?! Why the fuck do you insist on getting me all tangled up in your stupid games?! I'm not gonna fucking sit here and take it like an obedient pet just because you can't get over the fact that we're not together anymore! – you raged on, and you had no intention of stopping, you watched him back away, you watched him stupidly bump into the side of your couch and fall on his stupid fucking ass. He deserved to fall on the floor, not on a set of nice, comfy pillows. But he had no way out now. He had nowhere to run, not when you fucking rounded up on his shock-still form.

– I-... – he dared to try and interrupt you and it was truly the last straw, it was all you needed to have angry tears blur your vision and your hands clenched in fists again.

– You never even fucking apologized to me for anything either! Did it ever fucking occur to you that if, instead of tormenting me and calling me an idiot, you just fucking said you're sorry, pushed your idiotic pride aside and genuinely fucking said you're sorry, then I would've taken you back?! That maybe we wouldn't be here, in this fucking situation, if you just weren't selfish for once and apologized for all the shit you did to me, all the pain you've put me through-

– I'm sorry. – it was so quiet you almost didn't hear it. So shaky and breathy, so fucking... guilty. Heartbroken. So utterly pathetic. Just like he was, just like he looked. Just like you wanted him to be, but now that he was, you hated it. You hated his glossed over, wide eyes, the shame in them, the guilt, the pain. You hated his arms, slightly risen in a protective manner because he expected another blow. He deserved another one, but... it's like he was just a child then. Just this small, broken boy that was afraid to admit he was wrong, that was afraid of the punishment that awaited for him. And all over again, he made you want to pull him close to your chest and kiss it all better, make it so he'd never experience this pain again. And you hated yourself for it.

you've destroyed the fucking dam then. you haven't heard this man apologize to you once in your entire life, and suddenly, you were swarmed with sorries, with regrets and sorrows and his tears. suddenly, he remembered every smallest thing he ever did that made you upset, and he apologized over and over, for everything and anything, and you thought he was going to suffocate with how he was crying and rambling on your couch

god, he wasn't fucking worth it, you knew that, but suddenly, he was in your arms again, and you were soothing his shaking form, again. you were back there to ground him, to comfort him, to make him feel loved, even if he didn't deserve it. you were there to listen to his - probably empty - promises to change, even though you knew he most likely didn't have the power to change at this point, and god dammit - you believed it. or wanted to believe it. you wanted to believe that maybe you were important and that maybe he will put the effort in changing for you this time as you kissed him breathless and let him cling onto you for dear life. you wanted to believe that he deserved a(nother) second chance and that there was still hope for him as you clung right back. you missed having him right there, in your embrace. despite everything. and maybe you were just plain out stupid, or maybe he truly made a promise he, for once, intended to keep. and honestly? you weren't sure if you were ready to find out

you also apologized for throwing a vase at him. he wasn't mad. if he was, you'd throw another one. he had no right to be mad

Arkham Knight!Jon getting his happy ending hcs:

Jon genuinely thought about seeking you out, hoping that maybe that would give him some closure, that it would make him able to work and function properly again. but he realised how stupid, how selfish and disgusting that was. he swore to himself he won't even fucking force you to look at his ugly mug again. he had no right to come to you, expecting the person he pushed away in order to work to help him get back to work. he didn't fucking deserve to even breathe the same air as you

he kept tabs on you though. he had to know where you lived now, where you worked, and knowing where you were at all times would be ideal too, but he didn't dare go that far as to have someone stalk you. it's not out of some creepy obsession, it's actually out of... concern. sounds ridiculous, especially since he hadn't expressed any concern for you for the past few months, but he... he really didn't want to ever hurt you again. even accidentally. even if you were to be collateral damage. he needed to know the places he could target and the places he couldn't, he needed to know when, where and on who he could test his freshest batches and when, where and on who he couldn't. he hurt you enough. he destroyed your mind enough. he wasn't about to subject you to your worst fears too

but a reunion was inevitable, it seemed. one way or another, fate was bent on bringing you two back together. and so, he missed the fact that you changed your jobs and started working at Ace Chemicals, front desk actually, passing around exactly the information he needed about the company, it's building and resources

You genuinely couldn't believe your fucking eyes. You couldn't believe his cheek. The gall he had to be standing right here, in front of you, in his tattered, dirty "glory", milky eyes seeming wild behind the mask, as if he didn't expect you to be here. As if he hadn't planned it all.

– What are you doing here? – you didn't even have the strength to get angry at him anymore. You just resigned yourself to the fact that he was going to haunt you every single day for the rest of your life, be it in person or as a fleeting thought in your mind. You weren't allowed to get rid of him. You weren't allowed to forget.

– I could be asking you the same question. – his tone was hard to decipher. As if it was emotionless, but at the same time wasn't. Like there was something behind it, something he didn't want you to see. Something he himself wasn't ready to face.

You were already too exhausted mentally to give a shit.

– I work here. – you sighed, using that mocking tone he always used on you whenever you asked "stupid" questions. Funny, how one day he tells you there are no stupid questions and that you can always ask away, that he will always listen, and then treats you like an idiot when you do.

And yet you still loved his sarcasm, loved his quips and biting remarks. This was who he was, and you did, after all, love him as a whole.

– I didn't know that. – you were actually ready to believe that, what with how he was still standing there, practically in the doorway. He didn't round up on you yet, he didn't corner you like you were his prey. Actually, it seemed he thought you were the predator, like he was... scared to come closer.

Maybe that was better for the two of you. Who know what you'd do if he started to come at you like he owned you and this whole place.

– Oh, didn't you now? – you couldn't allow him to know though. It was his turn to get the cold shoulder for once. Not that he cared enough to be hurt by it. Not that he ever cared. About you, about anything. Anything but his work.

Jesus, fuck, you couldn't break down in front of him. You already did in the past. Way too many times. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of having the upper hand.

– You shouldn't've gotten a job here. – he seemed to feel as if he had it anyway – I work with chemicals on a daily basis and you know I'm planning to gas the entire city, it is only logical for me to take advantage of having a huge chemical factory right in the middle of it. It was obvious I'd come here sooner or later. – every word he said, he took a step closer to the desk. Every word he said, he beat you down into the ground harder. Obviously, you were in the wrong. Yet again. Always your fault. Why would you distract him from his goal yet again? Why would you meddle? It seemed that even if you didn't want to, you proved to be an inconvenience, a chink in the chain that was his research. It didn't matter what you did, it was never going to be good enough.

You two weren't compatible, after all.

– Yep, I'm stupid, I get it. Go on, psychoanalize me too, tell me how I did it knowingly just because I wanted to see you again. – you couldn't stop yourself from snarling at him. As always, he only came to you to break down what you've so carefully built back together. It was always that way, if you really thought about it. Every time you were starting to get used to his absence, starting to truly live on your own, he suddenly appeared, acted like everything was fine, acted like he loved you, and you believed it like the fool you were. You believed it and then he left you alone again. You believed it and then you woke up to an empty bed again. Every single time.

Maybe you really were a fucking idiot.

– And did you? – or maybe he was one, because this comment only resulted in riling you up more and yet he dared to fucking ask.

– I fucking hate you Jon. – you weren't ready to believe that what he just did at your words was flinching. That it hurt enough for him to physically move away. – If I wanted to look at your face again, I'd just turn on the news.

– I don't want to hurt you. – that was bullshit. He never did anything else. Hurting you was what he was best at, and he prided himself in it. – But I need access to the vast supply of chemicals your workplace has to offer. – even when you two fucking argued, it always came down to his work. Even when you told him you hated him, all he offered back was that he didn't care and came here just to get shit done. He didn't even fucking care enough to at least say he hates you back.

– You don't want to hurt me? That's a new one. – you were really tempted to just roll your eyes and go back to work. To ignore him, like he always did to you. But suddenly, you realised just how close he was. Practically leaning over the desk. His scarred face hooded and covered in a mask, hidden away from you. That face you wanted to stare into every time you woke up, that face you wanted to be the last thing you saw every day you went to sleep. That face that you wanted to kiss better, to make him know. Make him know you didn't mind. Make him know he was still handsome as ever. He never believed you, and you saw that. You saw that very clearly in his milky eyes. It's like they were fogged, like his mind was surrounded with fog and blurred reality with imagination, like there was this barrier between the two of you.

It wasn't there at first. But then he changed, and you didn't really know who he was anymore.

– I'm sorry. – it felt like pity. Like he pitied you. Like he was saying it just so you'd shut the fuck up and move out of his way at last.

And maybe it was better if you did.

– Save it. I won't get in the way of your plans, don't worry. I'm not getting paid enough to sacrifice myself for this place either way. – you were gathering your things, leaving the computer on, the information unguarded. You could use a day off, anyway. To cry in peace or whatever.

No such luck apparently, since Jonathan immediately had you in a grip, his fingers flexing against your arms.

– No, (Y/n). I'm sorry.

you really weren't ready for that conversation. not at all. you would never be ready for that. seeing Jon apologizing, hell, seeing him crying, genuinely crying in front of you, over you, wasn't something you ever expected to see. Jonathan, despite being a skilled psychologist, never really talked about his emotions. he was always hellbent on talking through yours - well, at the beginning he was, until the whole "spiralling into his obsession" thing started. then, he stopped, because he didn't have time for you. or, as he now explained, didn't have the courage to face how much he's hurt you. you really wanted to fucking punch him then, when he told you that he knew. that he knew all the time what he was doing, and yet never stopped, as if he purposefully sabotaged your relationship so you'd leave him. you knew he had his problems and you couldn't blame him for that, but you could blame him for running away from them. you could blame him for treating you like shit since he woke up from his short coma after the incident with Killer Croc. hell, he took the blame full on

you've never heard him so... bare. so raw. so vulnerable. when he apologized to you, thanked you for everything you ever fucking did, for always helping him, for sticking by him for that long, for enduring him and showing him how it feels to be loved, he was but a broken man. for the first time in... assumably ever, Jonathan didn't hide behind any walls and just... let the words flow. both of you knew that wasn't enough to compensate for what he did. nothing will ever be enough. he will never give you back everything that he took from you, and your heart will never fully heal. even if you two got back together, he wouldn't resign from his research either, and more likely than not, it was all going to end exactly the same, with him hiding away from you because apparently, acting like he didn't love you saved you from the heartbreak, and you having to mend your broken heart on your own, alone, knowing you will never get all your lost time back. you will never get back the time you spent crying in your home because you knew he wasn't coming. and yet, you - like the idiot you probably were - dived right back in. because you fucking loved him. and maybe it was stupid, and maybe his arms clinging onto you as you kissed him for the first time in months were stupid too, but if being stupid meant being happy, even for just one moment, you were going to take it

Jonathan still had a lot to make up for. you didn't think he will ever manage, honestly. but you were excited to see him try

[einsteinsugly]

My Two Worlds Apart universe...aka, interacting with other second-gen universes (The Sweetest Gifts version)...

To @zeppelin-and-unicorns, because I adore this universe!

Hannah Kelso: Oh, so you're named Hannah too. Hannah Forman: Yeah, I am. We're both sweet, and we love animals. Hannah K (excited): Me too! I don't like to pick favorites, but dogs are just the sweetest... Hannah F: Usually, yeah. Cats hold a special place in my heart... Hannah K: Really? Cats can be mean, sometimes, but that doesn't mean I love them any less. I mean, I can maybe hurt a fly, but not a spider... Kate (panicking): Spider? Did you say spider? Hannah K: That's your sister, from another universe, over there. Hannah F: She takes after Dad, I guess. *With a laugh* I don't have a sister, and now, I get two. Kate (meandering over, with Becca): And, you get Becca, your potential sewing buddy. Becca (awkwardly waving): Hi, I'm Becca. Kate (with a similar laugh to Hannah F's): And we're like sisters. Attached at the hip since we were babies... Becca (with a disappointed sigh): Yeah.

Pan over, to Dylan, James, and Leah.

Dylan: Don't you see Leah as a sister or a cousin? I see Hannah as a sister, and nobody fucks with her. When someone snatches her hearing aid, I fucking kick their ass to Jupiter. James: Eh, we always had chemistry. And unlike Uncle Kelso with his chemistry set, it won't blow up in our faces. Leah (wrapping her arm around James's waist): I think we should buy Uncle Kelso some fireworks. James (with a smirk, and a kiss): Yeah, maybe he can lose a couple fingers, like his Uncle Eddie...

Pan over to, the gang...

Two Worlds Apart Kelso: They're so mean! TSG Kelso: I know, right? Dylan and Jordan like to mess with me, too! TWA Hyde: Most of the time, you fuckin' deserve it. *Turning to the other Hyde* How the hell do you sleep at night, since Mikey's with... TSG Hyde: He's not an asshole, like kettlehead over there. *Annoyed* He's still a fuckin' kettlehead, though. TSG Kelso: Damn, Hyde! He's totally good enough for... TWA Hyde (ignoring Kelso, to the other Hyde): I hear ya. The last boyfriend Becca had, he abandoned her to go skateboarding. *With a proud smirk* I smashed his skateboard over his head. TSG Hyde: Like an anvil? *TWA Hyde nods, and they clink beers* Nice.

Focus in, on the Jackies, and Eric and Donna...

TWA Jackie: I can't believe there are two of us, right here. Right now. *Barely skipping a beat* Isn't that amazing? TSG Jackie: Of course it is. Taking the world by storm... TWA Eric: Yeah, by storm, all right. She's richer than all of us. TWA Jackie: And Eric makes next to nothing, because he's a teacher... TWA Eric: Y'know, teachers should be valued in society, instead of being spit on with pennies... TSG Eric (with a sigh): As the wives make more money than us. *Clinking beers in solidarity* It's so sad, y'see... TWA Eric (lowering his voice): Shh, she doesn't like being called the wife. TSG Eric: Maybe, just maybe, I do it when I need to make some sort of... *Both Donnas appear* Oh, hi. My Donna, the other Donna... TWA Donna: I'm the other Donna, in case you're confused. *Turning to TSG Donna* How did you bring yourself to return to Point Place after you graduated? TWA Eric (interrupting, wrapping his arm around Donna's shoulders): That's where fun goes to die. And hopes and dreams. TSG Eric: How do you survive teaching on the South Side of Chicago, every day? TWA Eric: A little bit of diplomacy; a spoonful of sugar, if you will. To help the medicine go down. The medicine being, y'know...breaking up fights, the general blight compared to the North Side... TSG Donna (to the other Donna): Does he always ramble on like this, all the freaking time? TWA Donna (with a sigh): Yeah, he's passionate about his job. Just like I'm passionate about mine, and he listens to me rant about politics and all the freaking crap that goes on in the newsroom... TSG Donna (with an identical sigh): I hear you. It can get kind of dull, sometimes. There are only so many fluff pieces about the state fair and doll expos I can write about before I freaking explode. And write something worthwhile. TWA Donna: I don't really write fluff pieces. I write about a lot of city council meetings, though. *With a groan* It's like watching CSPAN. TWA Jackie (barging in): My talk show is never like watching CSPAN. It's like watching Grease, or Fame, or the Heathers...

Both Hydes emerge from the darkness, as both Kelsos follow suit...

TWA Hyde: If I ain't behind the scenes, I'm sittin' at Grooves, watchin' the show. *Skipping a beat* It's pretty freaking great. TWA Jackie: We're both pretty amazing together. I don't know who these writers are on this weird 90s show, but they're putting me with Michael... TSG Jackie (nearly gagging): Eww! TWA Jackie: And, I'm pretty sure we have a son named Jay. And Eric and Donna have a daughter named Leia... Both Eric and Donnas (wincing): Eww. TWA Eric: I've had so, so many dirty fantasies about Leia... TWA Hyde: Forman, you named your kid Leah. TWA Eric (awkwardly twitchy): That's totally different. You know the story... TSG Jackie (as Eric's still rambling in the background): So, I can't believe I'm saying this, but since Eric saved my life and everything, both Erics have aged better than Michael... Both Kelsos: Damn, Jackie! TWA Kelso: You're so mean, just like... TWA Jackie (ignoring him): He's aged like John Travolta. TSG Jackie (also ignoring Kelso): So, terribly? TWA Jackie: Yeah, he's fat. *Wrapping her arms around Hyde's waist* But my Steven? He's amazing, smart, and hot. He's redeemed himself a long time ago, and he's gone above and beyond; now we're partners in...or against, crime. Crimes against humanity. Like Eric and Donna, but cooler. TWA Hyde (kissing her temple): Damn straight. We're rebels with a cause, and we kick ass. TWA Jackie (pulling him closer): And take names. TSG Jackie: Oh, we do that too. *With a dramatic pause, turning to Hyde, wrapping her arms around his waist* Don't we, Steven? TSG Hyde (kissing her): We've aged like a freakin' fine wine.