#because he's SICK and TIRED of fucking losing will every single time he thinks he's got him back

[bylertruther]

thinking about how lonnie only ever cared about will when he died and that was just to profit off of his death + will giving a girl he doesn't know his toy truck just because she's crying and he thinks she needs it more even if he knows joyce can't buy him another one + one of the very first things will did upon waking up in the hospital was ask if jonathan was okay + will telling them to close the gate in season two even though he's part of the hivemind and that would've killed him, too + will breaking his own heart by confessing his feelings and giving mike the painting he's spent so long on but saying that all of it came from el thus sacrificing his own wants and self to again help others + how that same selflessness and self-sacrificing nature of his is going to undoubtedly rear its head in season five again because he's at the center of it all and it all goes back to him and vecna is a creature that feeds off of n fans the flames of pain and guilt... feelin very scared n anxious in this chili's tonight over this actually 😳

[jo-harrington]

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 5)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 14.1k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Angst, body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, fluff, love, smut, mutual pining, Character development, manipulation/deception, Things That Require Communication (Hey Guess What) , Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, self hatred, loss of identity, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dry humping

Note: Ok guys, here we are. Only 4 hours late and with no PiV because I'm a lying bitch but I will write a oneshot if we want it. Holy shit, but can I say that this is the first "series" that I have finished writing. I talk a big fucking game about writing fics for so long, but man those were LONG FICS that I abandoned hundreds of thousands of words in, or they were all oneshots that now only live on my old computer. The ending, I hope, is not disappointing, but I literally didn't want it to be left up to interpretation. Thank you @ghost-proofbaby for tamping my insecurities down with this one. If I am the brains of this series, you for sure are the heart. And let's not forget @shiftingtherain once again for inspiring this whole thing to begin with.

This chapter is unedited...but I am tired and sweaty and happy. So have fun.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

"You're lucky I don't have to--shit!" Robin's eyes went as Steve opened the door to the trailer and she got a view of his--Eddie's--face. She reached out, as if to touch the swollen bruising, but second guessed herself and her hands immediately found the straps of her backpack. "What happened to you?"

"Eddie happened," Steve grumbled miserably.

"Eddie?!" Robin shrieked and Steve immediately shushed her and swatted her into the trailer. He pointed to Wayne, who was--thankfully--dead asleep and snoring on the fold-out bed, then ushered her back towards Eddie's room.

He'd felt...somewhat guilty early on when he realized that Wayne slept out there on the uncomfortable fold-out while "Eddie" had a room and a bed, and had tried to offer to swap, but Wayne grumbled something along the lines of "if I told you once, I told you a thousand times."

"Eddie did this?" Robin asked once the bedroom door was shut behind her. "Did he lose his mind?! Why would he punch you? You two are supposed to be...seeing through one another's eyes and all that shit. Working together to get back into your own bodies."

Steve felt his stomach drop.

He had stewed on it all night Friday and all day Saturday as he hid in Eddie's room and wallowed in shame. The sick sort of triumph he felt when he got that response from Eddie--as impulsive and fueled by anger as his own words had been--had faded and as the mottled colors began stitching together and spreading across his skin, the realization of just what he had said had settled in. And with every moment that the ache in his face became more pronounced, his guilt grew.

"I...I might have...fucked up," he admitted. Robin's expression went from one of shock to one of annoyance, and Steve immediately launched into a recap of Friday night. Hell...of everything that he'd been keeping from her.

Because, truth be told, he had been.

Steve knew that Robin was more in touch with her emotions, or rather...acknowledged them at the very least instead of simply ignoring them. She was smart as a whip and when she made you face the truth, it stung just as badly. He had told her that he'd been getting tutoring sessions...just not from who. Every time he brought up Nancy...well...Robin wasn't her biggest fan. Really not because of anything that she had done...except break Steve's heart...but because he couldn't get over her no matter how hard he tried.

And if he was being honest with himself, he hadn't...really tried too hard.

Steve hoped Robin would see things from his perspective, though. Her expression remained stony as he explained everything, but her emotions shone through her eyes as he poured his heart out. As he admitted to all the mistakes he made.

"I don't...I don't really believe those things," Steve explained truthfully. "But when I get hurt? When I'm desperate and overwhelmed? I just...lash out. You know this. And there's so much I've had to keep inside and this whole experience.

"Rob...you've gotta believe me, it's been shit. Eddie's right, his life is hard...I really don't know how he does it but...damn my life sucks too alright? So I figured, if I could have one thing, just one thing, to make it all worth it...this might be it.

"But I don't know why...why he wouldn't just let me have this," he concluded and ran a hand over his face, wincing as he pressed into his black eye.

"Alright, you're not just a dingus, you're a real bonehead," Robin rolled her eyes. "You and Eddie both! This whole situation isn't some treat for either of you, it's supposed to be a lesson."

"I know that!" Steve threw his hands out to gesture at himself. "But I'm still Eddie and Eddie's still me. So what lesson? What is selfless love?"

"Because you haven't...you haven't..." Robin sighed and ran her hands through her bangs. "Maybe we're working backwards? We're trying to find...selfless love. But...but the spell said there was a prize reflected in each other's eyes. What about self love? Gotta love yourself before you love someone else right? Or whatever bullshit those self help people say on the Oprah show."

"That's bullshit Rob, I don't love myself," Steve grumbled. "In fact, I hate myself...a lot."

"Ok ok," she pointed at him. "See and you thought Eddie had it all, that he loved his life. You told me so yourself. You were jealous because he had it all."

"But he doesn't."

"And he thought you had it all? But now he's realizing you don't," she reasoned.

The more Robin talked and rambled, the more she made sense. She snapped her fingers and waved her hands around, as though willing the solution into her head.

"Ok," Steve sighed. "We've figured out that no...we don't actually like being one another...so what gives? Why haven't we switched back?"

Robin gasped and grabbed Steve by the shoulders to shake him.

"It's Nancy! You idiot!" she hissed.

"Nancy?" Steve frowned. "Nancy's not stuck in someone else's body, I am."

"No!" Robin groaned. "You were on the right track but you started thinking with your dick when you thought that you could get back with Nancy!"

Steve began to fidget.

Was it...could that have been the answer all along?

He refused to believe it.

"We loved each other!"

"But you loved her more than she loved you," Robin explained, mirroring words he had once confided in her right back to him. "And you refused to let her go. And now you would quite literally be someone else entirely to get her back."

"She doesn't love Steve," he signed. "But she might love Eddie."

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Robin stared at him, dumbfounded. "You are not Eddie Munson. You have to let her go. You have to accept yourself, and if that means letting Nancy go, then it's the right thing to do. You need to apologize to Eddie...and you need to fix this."

Steve's mind raced; he knew, deep down, it was all true but...he just couldn't accept that it was just that easy.

"Ok, ok, b-but there has to be another way," Steve attempted to deflect and Robin groaned and rolled her eyes. "No, wait, hear me out here. I...I could...help him get a job at the dealership--"

"Not gonna help when you are still Eddie and you don't know shit about cars," Robin reasoned.

Steve pushed past her and dug through the pile of notebooks and textbooks on Eddie's dresser.

"I could get him to graduate," Steve bargained.

"I think you need to give it up," Robin rolled her eyes. "You know what you need to do."

"No, I can do other selfless things, I can, I can..."

Steve and Robin went back and forth, verbally jousting with excuses and explanations, as he flipped through Eddie's school notebooks. He glanced over half-finished essay drafts and barely legible chemistry equations. As though there would be some great solution to this problem amongst the countless algebra equations and--

"Hang on," Steve held his hand out to silence Robin. He turned and showed her the notebook. "Look at this."

"What is it?" She took the notebook from him and they flipped through the notebook together.

Your name. Over and over. Your initials and Eddie's. Little heart drawings and daggers and--what Steve assumed to be--princesses and knights. And then towards the end...a bunch of pen scribbles obscuring the little fantasies with the oh-so-familiar sigil drawn beneath.

It had been a notebook that Steve had scooped into his arms along with piles of Eddie's laundry and other knick knacks in an attempt to tidy up the trailer a little bit for his own sanity Wayne. To clear away some of the clutter. Especially after he and Eddie had torn the trailer apart looking for the occult book that one night, something that felt like ages ago now.

Steve felt a kind of triumph at this. Justification.

What a fucking hypocrite.

So it wasn't just him that was holding up their inevitable switch back, it was Eddie too. Eddie had a crush on you, and now he had gotten exactly what he wanted by dating you for Steve.

Except...

Except Eddie sort of always seemed to be worried about you. Worried about you finding out the truth, wondered how upset you might be if you did.

"Shit..." Steve sighed.

"Ok so maybe Eddie is as much to blame here as you are," Robin rationalized. "I told him...he needed to tell her the truth, that she would be heartbroken. I didn't realize that he..."

"No...it's..." Steve struggled. "Shit...shit."

Because it all made sense. Steve hadn't thought about the details, really, but he knew how it felt to have feelings for someone who you couldn't have...who didn't like you back. And while he happily planned to try Nancy back...Eddie...and you...

"Shit!"

He had to talk to Eddie.

"Hey Steve. Uhh..." You twirled the phone cord around your finger as you stammered into the receiver; the speech that you had practiced in your head was completely forgotten as you got the Harrington's answering machine.

"Listen, you left pretty quickly last night and I was just wondering if everything was alright? Or...or maybe I did something to upset you? B-because...we are having a good day, I just...if I did something...I'm sorry. Anyway...uhm...I'll try calling back later...or I'll...yeah...bye."

You slammed the phone as you hung up and covered your face with a groan.

You were up all night--heartbroken and embarrassed.

Steve left...he ran out of your house. One minute...he was...well he was...

You'd had a wonderful date and you had been...so focused, so in the moment as he...gave you the most intense pleasure you'd ever felt...and he just left.

You had been shocked. Barely clothed, legs made of jelly--whole body made of jelly--stunned into silence as he pushed himself away from you and pulled his clothes back on. When you called his name, he looked sick to his stomach.

His eyes clamped shut, shook his head, and then ran.

You'd pushed yourself out of bed, stumbled after him while calling his name, but he was gone. You could practically hear the tires screeching as he tore down the street.

Something happened. You must have done something. It was the only explanation that made sense. Everything had been going great and then it wasn't, and he looked so...disgusted.

So it must have been you. You wracked your brain for some idea...

Did you...did you make a weird noise? Did you...moan too loud or something?

...until a sense of dread overcame you.

Had you said Eddie's name? And not Steve's?

No...no...you couldn't have. Because as much as Eddie kept popping up in your thoughts...you knew that you were with Steve. Your entire head and heart were filled with Steve Harrington.

So why did something still feel wrong when you thought about it now?

Your mom got home late and had trudged off to bed; she barely glanced into your room to make sure you were asleep, and you had half the urge to stop her before she scuttled off. But you knew she would grill you if she saw the tear tracks reflecting the streetlight outside of your room.

You couldn't tell her about this.

And of course, you didn't tell your mom everything but...you really could have used a little bit of comfort. Her occasional words of wisdom that seemed to make everything better.

It was as you lay in your bed that you thought about the other times you'd gone to her, the times you'd cry after a mishap that your child brain couldn't quite comprehend. All the hurt in the world because of a doll that wasn't shared, or some painful words that were thrown around haphazardly.

"I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding," she always said. "You can talk in the morning, and it'll all be ok."

Except it wasn't ok. And Steve hadn't picked up. And you felt...sick.

You would have gone over to the Harrington's house or Family Video if you didn't have to get to work...to apologize in person and...

And what? What if he never wants to see you again? What if this just pushes him right back into the arms of Nancy Wheeler?

You knew that the insidious little voice in your head was just...just praying on your insecurities. It was irrational, but a fear was a fear. And you didn't want to lose someone you loved as wonderful as Steve.

You took a calming breath and made a plan...you had work today and class all day tomorrow, which meant if Steve didn't call back by the time you got out of work...you might not even going to see him until Tuesday night at the earliest if he was going to hang out with Eddie and the--

Eddie.

Your stomach lurched with nerves.

He and Eddie were friends, it was a fact that you were trying to move past. And as much as it anguished you to see Eddie...you couldn't lose Steve. So maybe...just maybe if Eddie didn't already know what happened and refused to look at you, he would know how to fix this.

You couldn't wait for Tuesday night.

You needed to fix this today.

"There you go sweetie," Mary cooed as she placed a mug of chicken soup on the bedside table and then brushed the hair out of "Steve's" face. "And I ran out and got crackers and ginger ale if you're not feeling up to soup."

"Uh-huh. Great. Thanks mom," Eddie muttered and stared numbly at the plaid-papered walls. If he didn't look at her, if he focused on the tense whooshing sound in his ears instead of her voice, he could pretend that it was his mom taking care of him.

Truthfully, he didn't want to be here, pretending to be sick. After he'd made his escape from your house, he realized he had nowhere to go where he could ground himself in...well...in himself. The one place he wanted--his stupid, ramshackle trailer in Forest Hills...home--was still inaccessible to him. So was his other home, you, as he had just...left you. Ran. Like a coward.

While he didn't want to be stuck in the Harrington's house with Mary up his ass for hours, he knew it was the only place he could really let himself become numb without interference from the outside world. So Eddie resigned himself to another day of being Steve Harrington and allowed Steve's mother to coddle him. The cold reception he had been receiving from Mary was immediately replaced with gentle care that made Eddie feel like a kid again, in those carefree days between his father's incarceration and his mother's death.

Knowing how deceitful she was, though...how willing she was to manipulate her son...well, needless to say that Eddie wasn't really buying the sincerity of Mary's behavior. He wished that it was genuine--for Steve's sake, even though he was still pissed at Steve--but in the case that it wasn't, he was not letting up on his demands.

Chicken soup from the deli, snacks from the grocery store, and some time in the house alone so he could smoke a joint in peace and let the high calm his troubles for a little while.

"You know," Mary sat down on the edge of the bed and Eddie groaned, which immediately got her to change her mind and remain standing. "I called the video store to let them know you were having a sick day, and that manager. Kevin? Keith? He was incredibly rude."

"Yeah," Eddie responded as Mary continued, disinterested in making a conversation now that he had started to come down from his high.

"And speaking of rude," she scoffed. "There's this...rude girl who's called twice this morning already while I was out; she left messages. Is this the girl who you've been going out with Stevie?"

Eddie's interest piqued and his spirits lifted just the slightest, then fell again, when he realized it must have been you.

Now, after the panic had subsided, he knew that he had messed up. That he shouldn't have run. Fuck...he couldn't finish what he started but at the very least he could have...stayed and told you the truth. Told you everything. But hindsight was 20-20, or so they said, and in the heat of the moment...running from the reality that he wasn't himself and that you would never love him seemed like the only thing he could do.

Eddie didn't quite know how to feel about the fact that you were calling him now. It wasn't that he didn't want to see you. No, he...he only wanted to fix what he had messed up. But...he just couldn't stand to see you look at Steve with that look in your eyes. Hear you say his name, when all Eddie wanted was for you to want him.

"...sounded so unsure of herself. That's not the kind of girl you want to attach yourself to; you need someone who knows what they want and will go after it. Not to mention that she apologized. Said she hurt your feelings. Is this why you're sick? What did she do? I'll have a talk with her mother and make sure she never calls you aga--"

Mary's heated speech was interrupted by the rapid ringing of the doorbell. She tried to ignore it but it kept ringing.

"My God, if we're not answering it means we're busy," she groused under her breath and turned on her heel. "Will some people never learn patience."

Eddie said a quick thank you to whatever deities he could think of for getting Mary away from him, and he closed his eyes.

Back to the rest, back to his wallowing. Back to the...sound of rocks hitting the window, what the hell?

Eddie's eyes shot open and he rolled over to stare at the window, and sure enough, tiny rocks kept hitting the glass. Over and over.

Eddie pushed himself out of bed and crossed the distance. He briefly wondered if you might be out there, if you had tried calling with no answer. But he had negotiated with Benny to give you a day off yesterday, so he knew there was no way you weren't at work today.

He opened the window and leaned out, only to find the surprise of his life when he "Eddie" himself...or rather...the real Steve was standing in the backyard, staring up at him.

Eddie felt a strange sense of satisfaction seeing the swollen black eye on his own face. Much more than the memory of him giving it to himself conjured. That he gave to Steve?

Fuck this wasn't getting any easier to sort out in his head. And there was no way that it was gonna be fixed any time soon.

"What do you want?" Eddie called down to Steve. "Come to rub it in my face that you have a real date with Nancy tomorrow night and that I was wrong?"

"I came to apologize," Steve called back. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. "No, I'm serious. I fucked up. I said some nasty things and I regret it. I shouldn't have said them. I was angry."

"A lot of true things are said in anger," Eddie sneered at him. "And that wasn't the first time you said some shit like that."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Steve sighed. "You don't have to forgive me, but...fuck I have to make this right because--"

"Save your breath," Eddie rolled his eyes. "I don't wanna hear it."

He could only imagine what happened that would get Steve to change his tune so quickly.

He tried to make a move on Nancy and she told him to get lost because she had a boyfriend already, regardless of what Harrington Charm Steve thought he possessed.

Or she just laughed in his face because who in the world would ever want to date Eddie Munson.

He winced, knowing it was a little too harsh, but his insecurities would win for another day or two. As eager as he was to get back into his own body, to go home, Steve could stand to deal with the fallout of whatever mess he made. Eddie would just stay in bed until Steve was as tired of this shit as he was. Then maybe they can try to work together and fix this again.

He was about to tell Steve to fuck off, when the patio door opened and Mary's voice echoed across the yard.

"Excuse me, this is trespassing!"

Steve was frozen, like a deer in the headlights, at the appearance of his mother.

Steve loved his mom, don't get him wrong, but sometimes...

Sometimes he just didn't understand how she could be sweet and loving one moment, and then an absolute misery the next.

It had been a recent discovery, this sharpness to her. In fact, for the longest time, he never considered that she was anything other than a happy and loving PTA mom, well-respected by friends and neighbors.

Growing up, she did everything Steve thought moms were happy to do. Go to PTA meetings, plan summer barbecues, come to all of the games for the sports he played, and cook elaborate dinners for the whole family to enjoy. But as his dad stayed later and later at the dealership, he was less present at family dinners or available for family outings on the weekends, creating Mommy and Stevie time. And as Steve got older, he preferred to hang out with his friends and run around Hawkins then stay at home alone with his mom.

He saw the light start to disappear in her eyes and he just...thought nothing about it. Didn't realize that he was also one to contribute to it.

Tommy H. had made a joke once about his dad having an affair, and Steve just...figured that must be the case for his dad too. He must have been, which is why...why he and mom didn't smile at each other much any more, why birthday gifts had become more elaborate and expensive, why both of his parents traveled together when his dad had conventions and auto shows.

And Steve defended her, always. She was an active member of the community, she went out with friends, and volunteered at the church. She did her best to take care of anything and everything the family needed. Protected them.

Until she didn't.

Until the one afternoon that the strip mall had lost power and Family Video closed early, and Steve came home to find his mom and Mayor Kline together.

All of the care and the sweetness and the motherly love vanished. Steve had suggested she talk to dad, if she was so unhappy...so lonely...but she had spat and swore and cursed his father, claimed that he was the one who ruined things. Ruined her happiness. Ruined their family. But once she saw the hurt expression on Steve's face, she begged him to let it go, to forget about what he saw. Promised that she would do better, she would talk to dad and fix it. For him.

But it happened again, and again. Steve hadn't seen the mayor in their house but he saw the evidence of him. The tie pin left in the bowl that they dropped their car keys in, an extra wine glass next to his mother's on the coffee table. Everything she did felt...forced. Every time he would notice something off, the evidence of all the things she did around the house, for him, for the family, became more noticable. As though she tried to buy his forgiveness rather than actually fix the problems with their family.

He tried to confront her about it again, ask if she had talked to dad. She had yelled and complained and blamed him for wanting to hurt the family. And that was when she offered to give him his allowance back.

Blood Money. Judas. The words echoed in his head, some remnant of some Sunday school lesson that had faded over the years, as he tucked the stack of bills into his wallet.

He didn't know who it was that he betrayed by making this deal...his father, himself, maybe even his mother...but he knew it wasn't right.

So he kept it all inside. Ignored it and let it fester. Kept his mouth shut.

Until now.

Steve looked around the yard, at the big house and the pool, at "Steve" leant out of the window with his good looks and expensive pajamas. He thought about his dad at the dealership, working hard to give this all to them. And finally looked at his mother, who made sure everything looked pristine, only for it all to be festering and rotten just below the surface.

He might have towered over her but couldn't feel any smaller as she glared at him. Glared at "Eddie."

"I, uh," Steve cleared his throat and held his hands out to show that he wasn't doing any harm. "I just came by to talk to Ed--Steve! To talk to Steve."

"So you ding dong ditch and then you trespass into my yard?" Her brow raised in disbelief.

"It's cuz I knew you weren't gonna let me in," he explained.

"If I won't let you in, that means you shouldn't be on my property. Period." his mom sneered at him. "I know you, Eddie Munson; you spray painted my car a few months ago."

Steve glanced up at Eddie, and Eddie simply shrugged as though he hadn't been the one to do it. Which was funny, because in actuality...it had been Steve who maybe had gotten a bit too creative after one too many beers at Heather Holloway's Back to School kegger.

"So what if I did!" Steve shrugged, technically owning up to it.

"That's enough for me to call Chief Hopper right now!" she shrieked, and Steve could see her practically vibrating.

Steve knew that calling the police was sort of his mom's MO. But he wasn't phased.

Probably because he was in Eddie's body and not his own. But maybe it was because he was in Eddie's body that he also felt a bit of courage building.

"You're really going to call the cops on your son's friend?" Steve laughed at her.

"My son wouldn't hang around someone like you."

"Oh yeah? Tell her about Hellfire Club, Stevie! Or how you've been coming to Corroded Coffin shows!" Steve called up to Eddie, whose eyes went wide as he was put on the spot.

"Steven!" his mother turned and glared at Eddie now. "Is this true?"

Eddie stammered and glared at Steve, who didn't give him the chance to respond.

"What? You're surprised that your precious son would want to spend time with a drug dealing, no good, piece of trailer trash?" He practically quoted his mother word for word, having recalled the few times she had encountered Eddie out in Hawkins.

His mom spun around to face him, but he continued.

"Come on, Mare, you don't think that I could be a worse influence on him than you are. With your lying and canoodling with Larry." His voice went falsetto. "Oh Larry, you know how to make a girl feel like she's 20 again. Barf."

"How do you know about that?"

"You're bribing and manipulating your son, you're ruining your family, and on top of that, you're a huge bitch."

Steve felt the weight on his shoulders get lighter with each word that escaped his mouth. He also saw his mother's anger start manifesting physically. She was turning red, shaking, breathing heavily. He knew that he needed to make his escape before she really did call the cops. Or hit him with a shovel or something.

"Wayne's sick," Steve called up to Eddie and Eddie's eyes went wide.

"Who's Wayne? Is that another one of your little drug dealer friends? Get out of my yard. Get off my property!"

As Steve ran from his parents' backyard and away from his screaming mother, his mind raced. He knew he shouldn't lie to Eddie but...desperate times called for desperate measures. He needed to get Eddie alone so they could talk, reconcile what happened. So he could convince him that this...that this was exactly what they needed.

He knew that he needed to rally the troops if he was going to fix what he broke.

It took hours for Eddie to get out of the house.

As soon as Wayne's name had left Steve's mouth, he felt like he was doused in ice water. Every nerve was on fire, his body itched to leave and it was unfair that he had to be subjected to Mary's tirade as soon as Steve had run and Mary returned to the house.

All he wanted was to get into the car and race to Forest Hills to see his uncle, but instead, he had to listen to her speech about dangerous criminals and vandals and making better life choices. She even tried to lecture him about taking classes at the community college to get away from the deadbeats who hung around Family Video.

Jesus Christ, lady, way to kick a man while he's down.

Once she was done with her lecture, she marched him straight back to bed so he could get the rest he needed.

Eddie knew he'd have to make a miraculous escape and he waited and waited for Mary to settle in the living room or get on the phone or something. His mind raced in the meantime as he thought of all the ways that Wayne might be sick.

Was he sick sick? He'd been sick a grand total of once in Eddie's life, in 79, when a nasty flu bug swept through the whole town. He remembered wishing that he knew how to make soup other than from the can, but when he'd brought Wayne the bowl of microwaved Campbell's, the look of pride on his uncle's face was enough to relieve him of his guilt.

Maybe he'd gotten hurt at the plant? He always made fun of his uncle's age, calling him old timer and geezer and whatnot, but he was getting older and he needed better glasses than the readers he got off the little revolving rack in Melvalds. Maybe he cut himself...or needed stitches. Or threw his back out?

Eddie thought back to his initial idea of getting him a job at the Harrington's dealership, something he never acted on and suddenly felt dread that whatever fate had befallen Wayne had only happened because he hadn't acted fast enough.

Hours passed by and he waited. Mary had brought him a grilled cheese with the crusts cut off, she'd done several loads of laundry, and even ushered him into the bathroom to take a shower. But before he knew it, she had ducked her head into his room.

"Stevie, are you feeling ok?" she asked gently. "I need to run out for a little while. Run a few errands."

Eddie glanced out the window, at the way the sky darkened, and then back at Mary who was dressed a little too nicely for errands.

Nice to know she's going to knock boots with Mayor Douchebag while her son is sick.

"Ok mom," Eddie forced a smile. "Be...safe."

"There's more soup in the fridge, if you want any more while I'm gone."

"Sure."

She turned and left without so much as an I love you, and as soon as Eddie heard her car peel out of the driveway, he was on his feet. He threw on a pair of jeans and one of the t-shirts he had gotten with you the day before, and then ran down the stairs.

"Fuck, she took my keys?" he groaned as he noticed the little bowl on the table in the hallway was conspicuously empty. "Well, bad news that her son is actually a criminal drug dealer deadbeat vandal who knows how to Hotwire a car."

Eddie found tools in the dusty toolbox in the garage, and then strolled out to Steve's BMW. It was a shame that he would cause damage to the vehicle--it had been a nice change from his van, even though he missed the van immensely--but desperate times. He struggled for a moment, the imported car a little trickier than the clunkier Chevys and Fords his dad had taught him on, but he got it in the end.

For the first time in his life, he was a little thankful to his father for giving him some kind of skill, as unsavory as it might have been. Because if he didn't have it, there would be no way for him to see Wayne right now.

Maybe being Eddie Munson wasn't such a bad thing after all.

He pulled into the trailer park and the car skidded to a stop beside the van. Even Wayne's car wasn't here, which meant that Steve probably had to pick Wayne up from the plant.

Or the hospital.

He jogged up the steps and threw open the door...

"What the fuck?" Eddie exclaimed.

...only to find Steve, Robin, Lucas, Dustin, and Will sitting around the living room with notebooks and homework and DnD mini figs. The TV was on, the volume down low, with a stack of videos piled in front of it, and there were cans of soda on every available surface.

"Took you long enough," Dustin announced and rolled his eyes. The other kids started chiming in.

"We started working on homework when you didn't show up right away."

"And Mike's birthday campaign."

"It's been hours!" Robin exclaimed. "Keith is gonna have my ass too, I called off, and you called off too. Which means he's working open to close. And you know how he hates that. Er...um...well one of you knows." Robin glanced back and forth between Eddie and Steve.

Eddie looked around again. The trailer was cleaned, he could hear a load of laundry clunking around in the washing machine, there was a stack of frozen pizzas laid out on the counter in the kitchen, one in the oven making the trailer smell enticing.

But no Wayne.

They tricked him.

"Alright, what the fuck is going on here?" Eddie asked, then zeroed in on Steve. "You lied to me. You used my uncle as bait and you lied to me."

"I'm sorry, I had to," Steve got to his feet and sighed. "You weren't listening to me...and then my mom..."

"You lied to me to get me to come over for some kind of pizza party? I didn't know you were that desperate for friends, Harrington," Eddie asked incredulously.

"No!" Robin interjected. "He lied because the two of you need to settle this once and for all. You haven't been entirely truthful about this whole situation either, Eddie."

"What do you mean? I've told you everything."

"Not everything." Steve pulled a spiral notebook off the coffee table and threw it at him. Eddie's stomach dropped as he realized what he caught. "Open it."

"I don't have to do shit," Eddie feigned anger and threw the notebook over his shoulder.

"No, because you already know what's in it," Steve jeered. "You have a crush on my girlfriend and you've been using this to your advantage this whole time. Don't look at the kids, they already know. I told them." Eddie had glanced at Dustin, Lucas, and Will, half expecting to see betrayal or deception in their eyes, but they looked sympathetic.

"Listen," Steve went on. "I know how it feels to have a crush on someone and think that you don't stand a chance with them. We all do." He gestured at the others, and they all nodded.

Eddie felt uncomfortable under their heavy stares, and it sent his skin crawling.

He knew that he wasn't alone in having a crush on someone; unrequited love had a definition for a reason. He didn't understand why they wanted him here? Why were they confronting him like this? Did they blame him for the spell? He already knew it was his fault.

"So what? Why am I here, Harrington?" Eddie finally asked.

"To work it out once and for all!" Will explained. "There's only two options here."

"There was more to the riddle," Lucas elaborated. "More than just the translation."

"You both want to be with someone that...otherwise wouldn't want to be with you," Robin continued. "The real you."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better about myself, Buckley?" Eddie sneered at her.

"Leave Robin alone," Steve sighed. "She's the one who figured this all out. The prize...reflected in another's eyes...when I saw that notebook I thought that it was...something tangible. Popularity, or...or...friends...or a girl. But the real thing is love."

"Yeah, Selfless Love," Eddie shrugged. "Selfless love will change you back. What about it?"

"But in order to love selflessly, you have to love yourself first. And even if you find it hard to believe, both you and Steve...struggled with that. You thought...you couldn't be loved by the person you wanted the most. You didn't have the kind of life the other had. The love you thought the other had," Robin offered.

"So...there's really only two ways about this." She continued. "We all work together to help you two to learn to love yourselves. It's gonna take some time, because you clearly still hate yourself Eddie, and Steve...yeah he's not gonna admit to it because he's shallow--sorry Steve--but...he struggles to love himself because everyone else leaves him. Shut up Steve, you know I'm right.

"Or... you suck it up and deal with it. Steve stays Eddie, and he shoots his shot with Nancy. And you stay Steve, and you get to keep your honey. And honestly, this needs to be the outcome if we can't get you to change back with the self love thing.

"But it means that the two of you need to work together," Robin concluded. "Because it isn't gonna be easy."

"I'm willing to try if you are." Steve held out his hand to shake. "I mean...it's a win win no matter how you slice it."

Eddie stared at Steve's offered hand and then at all the others' open faces.

He was...touched that they were all here and willing to help. He truly was. And he knew that it was a gesture of good faith from Steve, trying to work together. They'd almost become friends the past few weeks, trying to solve this situation...what he had told Mary earlier had been true. Hell...Eddie was almost proud of Steve for standing up to her the way he did.

But to accept that offer meant that there was nothing to lose. And Eddie had already lost himself.

"Fuck you," he swatted Steve's hand away with his own. "I'm not shaking to that."

There was a collective commotion of "what's" and "why's" from everyone and Steve looked lost.

"What's your deal?" Steve asked.

"What's my deal? What's your deal?" Eddie laughed. "You think I'm gonna believe that you want to help me love myself, when just the other night you listed off every reason under the sun that I'm not worthy of love or friends, and that I would live and die alone. Yeah, real great act there, Harrington."

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Eddie.

"So you don't want to be me and you don't want to be you, then who do you want to be?"

"I didn't say I didn't want to be me, I just said you're fooling yourself if you think I'm gonna let you help me want to be me. Besides, don't you think it's still a little too convenient that it's only a win-win for you?"

"How is it not also a win for you?" Steve questioned. "You either get your life back or you get the girl of your dreams. Same for me."

"What if I want both."

"Then I say you're the one being selfish here."

"Come on guys," Dustin sighed. "Fighting isn't going to solve anything. You need to come to an agreement and--"

"No, th-th-there's...there's nothing to agree on!" Eddie stammered. "Except the only thing there is to agree on. You can't always get what you want, right? Isn't that the way the song goes? Rolling Stones? We're trying to make a deal to find a way to make the best of either situation, but neither of us is gonna be fully happy in any scenario. I learn to love myself and what? The girl I love doesn't love me either, so what's the point? You get the girl you want, but you need to live with the fact that she doesn't love you.

"But could you live with yourself day in and day out if she looked at you with love in her eyes and didn't see you for who you truly were? If she believed you were someone else. Could you live with that Steve? Could you live with Nancy Wheeler screaming out my name as you make love to her?"

Robin and the kids all started groaning and making gagging noises at the last sentence, but Eddie knew he hit a nerve in Steve as he had the decency to look a little sad.

"Don't you see I love her, but she doesn't love me. And she never will. So if I had to choose, no...I don't want to be Steve Harrington anymore, I want to be Eddie Munson again, because even if she never loved me, I wouldn't have to be face to face with the fact that she loved someone else, every day, for the rest of my life."

Eddie finished his shouting and his shoulders heaved with his labored breath, and as he realized what he just said, he turned on his heel to get to the door.

He didn't want to run away from this, but he felt like he had no choice but to run. This had been a mistake. He should have left as soon as he realized that Wayne wasn't sick. Back to the Harrington's where he could suffer in silence until he was ready to face the reality of being stuck in Steve's body.

"Eddie, wait!" Steve shouted and jumped across the living room to stop him, as Eddie's hand turned the knob. "You can't just lea--"

Eddie was about to turn and start yelling at Steve--he couldn't tell him what he could and couldn't do--but as the door to the trailer swung open, both he and Steve realized that someone was there.

You were standing on the other side and they didn't know how much you had heard.

It really was the longest Sunday at work that you had ever faced. Each minute was an eternity, and each break that you had went by too fast. You sat by the kitchen door to call home, and Benny would watch you with a critical eye as you asked your mother if there were any messages for you--there weren't.

Your mom knew there was something wrong by the tone of your voice...but she knew your breaks were precious and not to take them up with her questions.

"I'll be home a little late tonight," you warned her.

"You ok?" she asked.

"Yeah...just...going over by Steve's for a little, I think."

"Ok Honey. Have fun. Tell him I said hi."

But you wouldn't...at least...you thought you wouldn't as you drove your car towards Forest Hills Trailer park after work so you could talk to Eddie.

Imagine your surprise as you pulled up to the trailer with the obvious green and white van out front...only to also find Steve's burgundy BMW parked next to it.

Fear gripped you, and you debated...well, you debated just leaving. Cut your losses and run, because they had to be in there...obviously talking about you.

But looking further past the two vehicles you saw a handful of bicycles leant against the side of the trailer.

So maybe it would be safe...if they were having a Hellfire meeting or something.

You parked your car and slapped your face, gave yourself the pep talk of the century.

He's in there and Eddie's also in there and their friends. And you're gonna walk up there and act completely normal, say that you came by to see Eddie but...oh, Steve what a surprise, you were trying to call him but he must have been here all day.

Yeah that was it. Perfect. You just had to get out of the car and say it.

The air was thick with the sludge of your nervousness, and its viscosity grabbed and pulled at you with each step toward the door you took.

You could hear the voices even before you got to the door, the variations in the timber of Steve and Eddie's voices vibrated through the wooden walls and vinyl siding. And it wasn't until you pulled open the storm door to knock that you really heard what they said.

"The girl I love doesn't love me either, so what's the point? You get the girl you want, but you need to live with the fact that she doesn't love you." The sound of Steve's voice made your heart plummet.

Nancy. They had to be talking about Nancy. He still loved her.

No wonder he was so quick to run when you said his name. He pretended you were Nancy all the way up until then.

"But could you live with yourself day in and day out," Steve continued. "If she looked at you with love in her eyes and didn't see you for who you truly were? If she believed you were someone else. Could you live with that Steve?"

Wait...Steve? But...but that was Steve who was talking. What...what was happening.

You kept listening and as Steve kept talking, as you heard other voices chime in to try and stop him, and as he got louder and closer, you got more and more confused,

"So if I had to choose, no...I don't want to be Steve Harrington anymore, I want to be Eddie Munson again." Again. "Because even if she never loved me, I wouldn't have to be face to face with the fact that she loved someone else, every day, for the rest of my life."

"Eddie, wait!" And that was Eddie's voice.

Eddie called Steve...Eddie, just like he did that day way back when...the day he showed up at Family Video. The day that you had that date with Steve, when he changed your mind about breaking up with him.

And Steve was claiming...that he didn't want to be Steve anymore...that he wanted to be Eddie again. But if he wanted to be Eddie again...that meant he had to be Eddie at some point in the past...right?

Time slowed down and you got dizzy as you tried to make heads or tails of it all.

The dates and the kisses and the cologne and the chewing gum.

All of the times that you wished you knew what it was like to be with Eddie, when you were held so tenderly in Steve's arms.

The music and the declarations and the...the Nancy of it all.

You had thought vaguely last night that it almost seemed like they had traded places...but that was impossible.

"You're not...what I expected Steve Harrington to be like," you muttered. "You're so much better."

"Of course I'm better, it's because I'm..." He faltered for a moment.

It's because Steve was Ed--

The door to the trailer swung open and you stood in wide-eyed shock as you came face to face with Steve and Eddie.

Or...Eddie and Steve.

"Honey," they muttered simultaneously and you couldn't help the step you took back, the way your foot faltered on the steps of the small porch. You tumbled down the few steps and caught yourself on your hands, only for them and your knees to get ripped up by the gravel of the drive.

"Shit!"

"Is she ok?"

Two sets of footsteps came thundering down the porch steps and hands grasped at your arms to get you back to your feet.

"Honey, look at me, are you ok?" Steve--Eddie--cupped your face in his hands and turned you to him. He looked down at your hands and winced at the scratches. "Shit, we need to clean you up."

Meanwhile Eddie--Steve--talked over him.

"What did you hear? How much? You can't say anything, you can't tell anybody. They wouldn't believe you. They'd think you're nuts."

"Good job Harrington, can't you see she's hurt."

"She heard everything, Munson. God. We need to be proactive about this."

"Guys!" A voice came from the trailer door and you looked over to see Robin and a bunch of Steve's...Eddie's...someone's freshman friends standing behind her. Both of the boys continued bickering back and forth until Robin yelled again. "Shut the fuck up!"

Everything went silent except for the ringing in your ears.

You did the only thing you could do...

Your thoughts went a mile a minute as you revisited the epiphany you just had. And you couldn't believe how much sense it made. That it was Steve who touched you and kissed you and loved you. But underneath it all was Eddie.

...you turned on your heel and ran.

Eddie's heart clenched as you pushed his hands away from you, and you ran.

Well...ran was a generous term. You hobbled and skipped, the deep scratches and cuts on your skinned knees prevented you from gaining the speed you probably wanted. And it was all he could do not to go after you.

You heard. How much of it? Everything? How long had you been out there? You had to know now. You'd never look at him again.

It hurt, cut him so deep that it practically stopped his heart in his chest.

He knew that this was inevitable, had come to this conclusion that he would lose you...shit before he even had you. Everything in between then and now would just be a beautiful memory that he could take with him for the rest of his days.

"Well aren't you gonna go after her?" Robin called from her place at the door.

Eddie looked over at Steve, who looked right back at him.

"She means you," they said in tandem.

"Me?" Steve exclaimed. "Why me?"

"That's your girlfriend," Eddie said, as though it was the most obvious thing on earth.

"No," Steve laughed. "That's your girlfriend. And on top of that, you love her, so you need to fix this."

Eddie was speechless as Steve went and sat on one of the steps. He fished a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his vest and lit one up. Eddie rolled his eyes and looked back up at Robin and the kids.

"Go!" They all yelled at him. Eddie scrambled and started in the direction you ran, shaking his head softly as he heard them all turn on Steve with an "are you an idiot?"

He knew the way you ran. This was his home turf, even if he hadn't been here for a few weeks. He would always know this worn, dirt footpath that led to the gazebo out beyond the last trailer in the park. There used to be a jungle gym and swings out there...he had sat on those swings for hours after he heard news of his mom's death.

It was a good place to cry.

And Eddie half-expected you to be there crying, especially as he saw you, perched up on the bench with your face in your hands.

"Honey?" Your shoulders went rigid as he spoke, and he stopped in his tracks. "Hey it's me. Are you...ok? Can we talk?"

"Me who?" you asked softly, the fragility in your tone enough to make him pause. "Please...I need an answer, who am I talking to? Steve? Or Eddie?"

"Eddie," he said, clearly and confidently, knowing that this was it.

Your shoulders started shaking and he could hear vague whimpers coming from you. He couldn't hold himself back, he shuffled over to you, stood directly in front of you with his hands on your shoulders as you cried.

"I'm sorry," he began. The words flooded his mind: apologies, excuses, declarations of his emotions. He could barely contain one leak before another sprung. "I'm sorry I lied to you, I'm sorry I kept it a secret. It's just that it was so...unbelievable, so impossible, that I knew there was no way I could tell you without you thinking I was crazy.

"And before I knew it, it was too late, and we were dating. I was dating you for Steve but I was also...I was dating you for me because I've...I've had this stupid crush on you for years. Can you believe it? Years! And I never...I never thought I was good enough for you. But I was so...so angry because Steve wasn't good enough for you either. He's an idiot. Imagine my surprise, my luck the day I woke up and I was Steve...and I got to take you out on some date and finally...finally get to show you how much I cared. How I felt...

"But it wasn't right to have lied to you. To...to touch you and kiss you when you didn't know it was me. We all kept it a secret. Me, Steve, the kids, Robin. We all could have come clean at any time, but we figured we could fix it before then and now...now we might be stuck this way forever so please, please, I need...

"I don't need anything actually. There's nothing I can do to make this right. I can't ask anything of you, except to listen to me and believe that I never meant to hurt you throughout any of this. There were no tricks, no...well I guess there were lies. But I never pretended to care for you. Everything I said and did...it was real. And I don't blame you if you hate me, or if you never want to see me again, I just need to know...I need to know that you're alright.

"So please Honey," he ran his thumbs soothingly back and forth over your shoulders. "Please look at me and tell me...tell me you're at least ok and if you want me to leave you alone, I'll leave you alone forever. Just please. I need to know you're ok."

Your shoulders kept shaking and although Eddie's heart practically disintegrated in his chest, he felt...lighter. Something had shifted. Everything was out there, the truth. He didn't have to hide from you anymore, pretend that he was something he wasn't. All that was left was for you to tell him to fuck off...

When you peeled your hands away from your face and looked at him, though, you had tears of laughter in your eyes and a manic smile on your face.

"You..." you hiccuped through a giggle. "You're...you're Eddie Munson and you love me?"

"What?" he asked in disbelief, not entirely sure that he heard you right.

"You...you're Eddie Munson," you poked a finger into his chest. "In Steve Harrington's body."

"Yes."

"And you, Eddie Munson, love me?" you questioned. Eddie froze and you continued. "Don't act like I didn't hear....everything you said. You said...you said...you loved me but I would never love you back. But..."

You grabbed onto the front of his shirt and shook him, wincing as the rough fabric scraped against your torn up palms.

"I told Eddie...I told Steve...that I had a crush on you, Eddie Munson," you shook him and looked up into his eyes with a smile. You had...a crush on him and you told...Steve? "And he just said--"

"When?" Eddie interrupted you.

"In High school."

"No, when did you tell Steve?"

"Uh...last week? I don't...the...the night you came in with Corroded Coffin," you closed your eyes and shook your head. "And Steve...you...I'm sorry, it's really confusing."

"I know, imagine how I feel," Eddie chuckled.

"I told 'Eddie' that I had a crush on him in high school," you explained. "I told him and he acted like it wasn't anything to blink at. Like he didn't even remember I existed. And I felt so crazy, so hurt, that I went home and I tore up my diary because I never even thought you...that he...that..."

You rambled about thinking about him and smelling his cologne, noticing his chewing gum, and thinking about him when you kissed Steve--when you kissed him--and Eddie felt all the pain that he had, all the insecurity he had for the past 24 hours, melt away.

All the light in the universe--the burning of an infinity of stars--couldn't compare to the way his heart was shining right at that moment.

You didn't want Steve. You wanted Eddie.

"...and you ran away and I thought...but you..."

Eddie didn't let you finish your thoughts, he smashed his lips to yours and kissed you with bruising intensity.

The way he felt outdid any high he'd ever had.

He kissed you until you both needed air, then dropped little pecks around your face until you directed him back to your lips.

"You love me," you muttered against his lips.

"I love you," he nodded.

And then you said the one thing that he had wished to hear come from your lips for weeks, months, years.

"I love you too."

As soon as Eddie was out of sight, Robin and the kids were on top of Steve, yelling at him and swatting at him.

"Are you kidding me?" Robin shrieked.

"What?" Steve howled.

"You need to go after them too," Dustin tried to reason with him. "She's hurt and she's crying. This entire thing is a disaster."

"She's not my girlfriend! OW!" Robin had slugged him hard in the shoulder. First a black eye now a bruised shoulder. Great. "Ok, why do I need to go?"

"Because whether or not she's your girlfriend, you and Eddie both dragged her into this mess. So you both need to explain it to her," Will explained.

Steve sighed.

"Fine," he grumbled and threw the cigarette to the ground.

As he followed after you and Eddie, he sighed and wondered how this was all gonna play out. Why you hadn't just gotten into your car and driven away if you knew the truth. If you thought they were insane.

You could have made a fortune, told the newspaper.

If you told the newspaper though...that meant Nancy would find out eventually.

Nancy...

Steve reflected on everything that Eddie had said. He knew, now, that it was all in the context of you. That Eddie loved you...

So then why didn't he say anything? Steve...would have understood...or tried to at the very least. Right? And what Eddie had said made some sense to Steve.

"Could you live with yourself day in and day out if she looked at you with love in her eyes and didn't see you for who you truly were?"

But who was he? He was just...Steve. He could talk about his parents and his time at Hawkins High...all the sports he played and friends he made. Nancy hadn't wanted Steve anymore, hadn't wanted that life.

But was that even his life anymore? He had less now than he had before. His parents were broken, their family in shambles. His friends had left him and laughed at him. Hell, even the admissions essay Nancy had helped him write once upon a time hadn't gotten him into a college; he just...worked at family video.

What could he offer her as Steve? Shit, did he even have anything to offer himself?

"If she believed you were someone else. Could you live with that Steve?"

What did Eddie have though? He had a band and friends and carefree fun.

But Steve learned over the last few weeks that it wasn't as carefree as he thought.

Shit, even Eddie living his life wasn't as carefree as one would assume. What could Eddie give to Nancy? What could Steve as Eddie give to Nancy? Yeah he enjoyed nights out with Corroded Coffin but...he didn't even play his own guitar. Eddie did. And he was enjoying Hellfire Club but...well, the kids and Eddie really helped him with the DM role. Maybe he would like it better if he was one of the players instead of the leader of the whole show.

What the hell was Steve? But no one? Would anyone even care if he was gone?

But he loved Robin, she was his best friend. And he loved the kids as though they were his own siblings. They all had done so much for Eddie...and for him the last few weeks. They put themselves at risk of being accused of...witchcraft and hysteria...they subjected themselves to his and Eddie's anger when they were at each other's throats.

They had plenty of opportunity to leave them both behind--to leave Steve behind--but they didn't.

"Could you live with Nancy Wheeler screaming out my name as you make love to her?"

Make Love. Love. That was really all Steve had to give Nancy anymore. And all he really wanted in return. Could he be happy knowing that she loved someone else and not him? Not Steve Harrington?

Fuck, she was doing that now with Jonathan Byers.

Steve saw you and Eddie huddled together at the gazebo, and as he got closer he heard what Eddie said to you. He felt those desperate words floating in the air.

"...But I never pretended to care for you. Everything I said and did...it was real. And I don't blame you if you hate me, or if you never want to see me again, I just need to know...I need to know that you're alright. So please Honey. Please look at me and tell me...tell me you're at least ok and if you want me to leave you alone, I'll leave you alone forever. Just please. I need to know."

Steve...froze in his tracks, and it was like a lightbulb switched on.

For as much as Eddie had just declared his love for you back at the trailer. He was willing to let it all go, let you go, as long as you were alright.

Eddie had done all of this, had caused this entire fiasco...because...because he thought that nobody loved him--because you didn't love him--just like Steve struggled to find people in his life who loved him. And Eddie was willing to walk away without love, so long as you were ok.

Steve thought about Nancy and Jonathan. About how happy they were...how they were alright, and making plans for the future together. More than Steve had ever really done with Nancy. He had his plans and she hers. He had his father's expectation to live up to and she had...ambition.

As much as it hurt...Steve knew...weedled and pushed deep down inside of his being that Nancy would never have been happy with him as she was with Jonathan. And sure...it hurt to see them together but...her smile. Her happiness. It still warmed his heart.

Because he loved her. He always would.

Steve watched as the two of you rambled and laughed and verbally tousled back and forth and he felt...lighter somehow. More awake and aware than he had been for weeks.

He didn't feel so stuck.

Selfless love.

Huh...so that's what it was.

Steve would have gotten closer, would have helped explain the situation to Eddie, but he knew Eddie had it under control.

Because despite their troubles and differences, despite all the shit that they had been through...something new was forming between Eddie and Steve. Friendship was a kind of love, and Steve wouldn't go and stick his foot in it to save his own face.

Steve turned on his heel and walked back to the trailer. Maybe not with...a new head on his shoulders, but definitely a new perspective.

Selfless love.

Steve woke up feeling...like he was sleeping on a cloud...although there was a heavy weight on his chest and his arm felt numb.

Was this Heaven? Was he dead? Had the stress of the past few weeks finally killed him?

He had returned to the trailer, to Robin and the kids, the night before, and shortly after, you and Eddie had trailed in after them looking...happier than you had been when you'd run off. Steve had been glad, if a little confused.

He'd put two and two together when he caught a glimpse of a soft kiss Eddie had pecked on your lips when you left...and he felt...embarassed for a second. To think that Eddie would have kept you warm for him for as long as you were in each other's bodies.

Man, maybe I am a douchebag.

The group of you had gone over plans to help Steve and Eddie achieve some self love, to help them get back in their bodies.

But now...well, if Steve was dead there was really no way that he was going to be able to enact those plans were there?

He briefly wondered, as he opened his eyes to a brilliant bright light, if Eddie would be able to get back into his body if he had died. Or if he would be stuck as Steve Harrington forever.

Steve blinked the cobwebs out of his eyes and frowned at the sight before him.

Plaid-papered walls and matching curtains that were thrown open and letting in all the early morning sunlight. A too soft bed that he had missed and you tucked into his side with the weight of you numbing his shoulder and his arm.

Huh? This didn't make any sense.

You groaned beside him and nuzzled your face into his shoulder. You muttered a quiet "guh morning Eddie" and scrunched up your face as you opened one bleary eye.

"Eddie?" he asked. And then it hit him. "Eddie!"

Steve jumped and pushed you off of him. He got to his feet and started running his hands over his body. Fluffy hair, toned chest, stubbly arms--ok so Eddie hadn't been shaving like he promised.

"What's wrong?" you asked, confused. "Is everything ok?"

"It's...it's me, I'm back!" Steve exclaimed. "I'm back!"

"Back?"

"It's me, it's Steve," he cheered and knelt on the bed. He grabbed your hand and pressed it into his hair, as though touching it would convince you somehow.

"What do you mean? I..." Recognition sparked in your eyes and you pushed him away from you. "If you're...does that mean he..." You scrambled to your feet, shoved your shoes on, and ran out of his bedroom.

Steve could hear a commotion outside the room between you and his mom, then the front door of the house squeaked open and slammed shut. Before long, his mom poked her head inside his room and tutted disapprovingly.

"Did that girl stay here all night Steven?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "That's not the girl from the answering machine is it? I can't believe you--"

"Mom!" Steve stopped her and crossed the space between them. He looked down at her, truly for the first time in his life, and spoke clearly for the first time too. "You're so full of shit."

Eddie stirred awake and felt at peace.

Truly everything was working out in his favor.

He had a plan to get back in his own body, he had you, he had...something sharp digging into his shoulder, what the fuck?

He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face, his fingers dug into his eyes and as he pulled them back...strands of hair came away with them. Long, tangled strands...unfamiliar...but familiar all the same.

But Steve didn't have...

Eddie really looked at his hands then, at the ring-clad fingers and the tattooed skin. His familiar bats and his puppet master that he had gotten last summer. He turned his head and saw the glowing red lights of his shitty K-mart alarm clock.

6:45

The screech of tires and a spray of gravel outside really made him aware of the world around him. The room was still somewhat dark... but bright sunlight shone in from the makeshift curtain. He stared at band posters and the Corroded Coffin banner he made back in 9th grade, and slowly the recognition set in.

He was home.

He was home, he was home, he was home. He pushed the hair out of his face and looked at his arms, his body, his bed. He pulled the half-worn copy of Lord of the Rings out from under his pillow where it was sort of jutting into his shoulder and he kissed it.

"I'm Eddie Munson," he spoke out loud in his voice. He tried to lower the register, achieve his DM voice. "Eddie Munson."

There was a knock on a frantic door somewhere.

Wayne. No wait, it was still too early to be Wayne. He wouldn't be home until 8 when Eddie was already at school.

More recognition hit him.

"Fuck I have to go to scho--"

"Eddie I swear to god, if you don't open this door right now," your voice was faint, shouted from somewhere outside.

You. Your voice. He had fallen asleep beside you in Steve's bed...and now he was in his bed, in his body, and you were outside his door.

He kicked the blankets off of him, wincing as he saw that he was only in his boxers--thank fuck he was getting sick of tighty whiteys--and ran out to the door.

He stared at the living room, at the remnants of everyone being here the night before. Tidier than he would have left it, but Steve had promised to clean up. He vaguely wondered what else Steve had cleaned during his stay at Casa Munson.

"Eddie!"

"Shit," Eddie cursed and threw the door open, fully intent on being suave with his greeting, since he was back in his body. This would be his first chance to charm you as himself, after all. But as soon as you had your eyes on him, you threw your arms around his neck and planted a kiss right on his lips.

It was an entirely different sensation, kissing you as himself and not as Steve. You tasted...pretty much the same...maybe a little different. Tangier. Maybe a little...earthy but it wasn't even 7am yet and he doubted you brushed your teeth at Steve's.

Shit he hadn't brushed his teeth yet either.

But his nerves were immediately alight in a way that they never really got when he was Steve. And his blood rushed to mutually desired places much faster than it had in Steve's body too.

That was going to be weird, going through life comparing things to Steve again...in a different way. But...

"You're too busy thinking," you pulled away and smiled. "And not busy kissing me."

"Sorry Sweetheart," he chuckled. "Mystical body swapping does a whole lot on the mind. I got distracted."

"I'll forgive you," you pecked down his cheek to his neck and bit playfully. "Just this once."

"Your teeth feel sharper like this," Eddie noted aloud.

"It's because I'm biting you harder," you grinned against his skin. "Because I know you like me now so I'm not afraid to mess up."

"Not distracted thinking of someone else now either," he offered and felt you tense in his arms. The confidence in him faltered. "I'm sorry, Honey, I didn't mean--"

"No it's..." you pulled back from him and looked into his eyes. There was a glee there, one he hadn't expected to see. "I don't know. I guess it's all been wild and unexpected and 24 hours ago...I thought I was gonna lose...you forever...and now I have you."

"You have me," Eddie promised. "For as long as you want me."

"Never gonna stop."

"No?" he asked in a tease. "Not even if I...swapped bodies with old Ted Wheeler or something."

"Uh..." you wrinkled your nose and glared at him. "Eddie I don't know if you're intentionally killing the mood here but...I mean if you're trying to ask me if I would fuck Mr. Wheeler even if he was actually you, the answer is a hard no."

"But you'd fuck me?" he asked smugly.

"I'm sincerely trying to," you laughed. "I don't think you were this chatty as Steve."

"I am pretty talkative. Don't worry, I have other uses for my mouth, but first things first, I need your clothes off Honey."

He ushered you back to his room and his fingers pinched and plucked at your work uniform as you went. You still had it on from your shift the day before, and it was now wrinkled from sleep, and Eddie vaguely wondered how comfortable it was, but you eagerly pulled it off you as you set foot into his room and he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Not sure how clean the sheets are," he stepped close to you and cupped your face in his hands.

"It's ok."

"But I'm gonna take care of you Honey."

"As long as you don't run away again."

"I won't. I promise." He took your hand in his and pressed it against the bulge in his boxers, groaning at the spark of tension and pleasure. This was what he had been missing, the pleasure he felt in his own body, so familar and long-since-felt. "Feel how hard I am for you? Feel how much I love you?"

"You love me?" You asked.

"Are you always gonna ask if I love you?"

"I just gotta check. Make sure you didn't change your mind...or that...I don't know...that Steve didn't jump back into your body or something."

"Oh," he pushed you down onto his mattress and slid between your legs. He ground himself against you, the friction of your underwear making you both hiss in want. "I'll make you forget all about Steve Harrington by the time I'm done with you. You'll only remember my name."

He didn't play games, didn't waste time luxuriating in the details of you, when all he wanted was to take you to paradise again and again, and follow you, as quickly as possible.

Also because even if he did skip class with you today, his uncle would be home soon and he did not want this to be the way the two of you met.

He kissed down the length of your body and rid you of your underwear. He inhaled the heady scent of you, put his tongue on you the way he had on Saturday, and noted again that the taste of you was different. Better.

He could feel you holding back and he looked up at you smugly, resting his chin on the crest of your sex.

"What did I tell you? I want to hear you," he teased, and inched his fingers along the inside of your thighs. "You're beautiful you know...your pussy's so pretty. I didn't get to tell you that the other day. All of you, you're so...gorgeous and I can't believe you're all mine."

"Yeah?"

"You're all mine right?" He asked, kissing back down as his fingers spread your lips and he teased your clit with his middle finger. You whined. "Louder honey, you're all mine right."

"Yes." He sunk his fingers into you and he laved at you, lapping up whatever you gave him. The complex, sweet taste exploded on his tongue, and he pressed in further, further, crooked his fingers till you were panting. "Eddie."

He smirked and backed away slightly, looked up at you with hooded eyes. "Say it again. Give me what I want and I'll give you what you want."

"E-Eddie," you keened.

"Again," he sped up and started shifting against the bed, as he chased his own pleasure. "One more. I'll get you there sweetheart. I'll get you there you just have to ask."

"Eddie please!" He stroked with skilled fingers and used his thumb to rub your clit firmly. He watched as you came. Awed in the beauty of you as you twitched and leaked, luxuriated in the flutter of your cunt around his fingers, and basked in the crescendo of your moans.

All while he rutted quickly and wildly against the bed. He wasn't gonna last--he'd barely touched himself in Steve's body, and he knew Steve wasn't doing any routine upkeep in his--and before long his release spilled as he grunted and groaned. He couldn't help himself, he bit into the plush of your thigh, enough to earn another high pitched whine from you.

You both panted and came down from your highs. He'd kissed back up your body to your mouth, letting you take the affection that you needed with your arms wrapped around his neck and your fingers threaded through his hair. He felt a tingle in his spine as your nails scratched against his scalp, and he knew it was a promise of more to come later, but he knew he needed to clean you up now.

He whispered sweet apologies as he left your side to get a washcloth from the bathroom, and then he cleaned you up first--paying close attention to the scrapes on your hands and knees, then the mix of his spit and your release between your legs. Then he took care of himself, slightly embarrassed as he rid himself of his stained boxers and revealed his rapidly softening cock to your curious gaze.

"Shit," he laughed and looked down himself and then back up into your eyes, so filled with affection. "You know something?"

"What?" you grinned at him, clearly feeding off his joy.

"Steve definitely has a weirder dick than me." You covered your face in your hands and cackled.

"I hate you!" you shouted, voice muffled.

"Noooo," he quickly flopped on the bed and pulled you to him. He peeled your hands back from your face and pressed a kiss to your lips. "You love me.

June 1986

This was it.

Eddie had never been so nervous in his life. Not the first time he performed with Corroded Coffin, or the first time he was the DM for Hellfire, not even the first time he kissed you.

This was the minute that his future would finally begin.

"Edward Munson," Principal Higgins' voice echoed across the football field. Eddie climbed the makeshift stage accompanied by a mix of cheers and applause (and boos from the douchebag jocks who had made his life miserable for the past 6 years).

He shook Higgins' hand and took his diploma, smiling nicely for the photographer that had set up right at the edge of the stage, and when he got a mischievous look on his face, Higgins sighed.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you Eddie," he warned.

"Come on, it's not like you can fail me now!" Eddie snarked and tucked the diploma under his arm, before flashing double birds at the older man. The sounds of the crowd grew louder--parents outraged, students amused--and as Eddie turned to extend the gesture to the crowd, he saw his little audience get to their feet and cheer harder.

Wayne who shook his head, forever amused at his boy's antics. Rick who, quite frankly, looked high as a kite. Gareth and Dave and Jeff's parents, who were there for him and Jeff. Steve and Dustin and Lucas--who had cheered for Robin, Jonathan, now for Eddie, and soon enough for Nancy. Will and Mike were with their families, but Eddie could still see them clapping enthusiastically.

And front and center, next to Wayne with the brightest smile and the loudest cheers, was you.

It was still weird, even after months of getting to be with you as Eddie instead of as Steve. Not bad weird. Better weird.

This was a moment he never imagined he would get to experience. Graduating high school, getting to know you and love you the way you did.

It still felt surreal, but as he ran off the stage amidst hooting and hollering of his classmates and the audience, he knew it was where he was meant to be.

Hours later, Eddie was surrounded by friends, family, and classmates in the Wheeler's backyard, celebrating the momentous occasion of high school graduation.

Wayne chatted with Ted Wheeler and Thomas Harrington, who had in fact offered Wayne a job at the dealership. Their kids newfound and unexpected friendship was a chance to actually talk with one another and Tom quickly realized that his new acquaintance was actually a skilled mechanic. While it took a little convincing on Eddie's part for Wayne to actually take the job, Wayne was actually grateful that it paid a little more and offered better hours than the plant.

Eddie's eyes narrowed as he watched Tom rub his ring finger nervously, the missing wedding ring obvious and awkward, especially amongst a big crowd like this. But no one dared say anything about the divorce or the fact that Mary had been seen around town with Mayor Kline. They didn't even ask Steve how his mother was doing. Everyone welcomed the Harringtons, glad they could make it to the celebration.

Guests milled about, the kids all chased each other around with water balloons, and too many overcooked hamburgers and hot dogs were consumed.

Eddie had his arm around you as you chatted with Nancy and Jonathan about plans for the future. You and Nancy had become fast friends, especially after Eddie returned back to his body and actually took advantage of Nancy's tutoring sessions.

There had been a moment, early on after the swap back into their own bodies, that Nancy had commented on the fact that you were dating Eddie...when she thought you had just been seeing Steve for weeks.

"I'm just worried about him," she confided in Eddie. "We didn't break up on the best terms. He'll always be my friend."

"I think he'll be ok," Eddie assured her. "The two of them are just friends. He doesn't have that many of those in Hawkins. You know, she convinced him to sign up for classes at the Tri County College in the fall?"

"No way," Nancy exclaimed. "I thought he was just gonna be stuck at Family Video for the rest of his life."

Eddie chuckled in recollection, remembering Nancy's disgusted face.

No, Steve wouldn't be stuck in Family Video forever, because Eddie had recently take a job there as an assistant manager to kill the extra time he had now that school was over and supplement that money from the additional gigs Corroded Coffin had earned over the summer.

It wasn't a record deal or a tour...just some local carnivals and fests...but it was a start.

And of course, there was you. With your unending affection and support and bright, shining personality. The you he got to know between high school and his...foray into Steve Harrington-ness only bloomed further under the gentle attentions of him and his love.

You told him things that you had never told him as Steve. You confided in him about your worries for the future, about your struggle balancing school and work, about your ideas and insecurities. And he did the same with you. It was a mutually fulfilling relationship, and one that was full of trust.

And the sex was one of the highpoint of his entire life so far. Not even his Warlock ranked quite as high on the list.

"Hey Eddie!" Dustin called to him and Eddie turned only to get hit in the face and doused with water from a rogue water balloon. He ran a hand over his eyes and did a dog-like shake to get the water from his hair. He glared at Dustin and Steve, who had thrown the precision shot and laughed heartily at his expense.

Douchebag.

Eddie sighed and looked around the party, at friends and family, at the kids, and you, and finally at Steve, who nodded in amicable understanding.

If he never saw Steve Harrington again...what would Eddie do? They'd experienced one of the...weirdest of things they'd ever experience in their lives. And it was something that inexplicably tied them together.

They were friends now.

Who'd have thought.

But, Stranger Things could've happened.

Thank you for reading. <3

[writingjourney]

Papa(i cant decide what number 1-4) : angry at his lover, because she avoids him..

Reader in her bedroom: p-please love...kill me i have a fever

https://themidult.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/painting-woman-ill-sick-fluey-unwell2-800x500.jpg

(sorry for the link im too shy to send this ask as me, but i think its kinda funny)

ghosting | papa x gn!reader

I could not decide on a Papa either, so I kept it as neutral as possible and (I hope) you can all imagine the Papa of your choice :) and anon, you need not be shy, I am so grateful for your ask <3

summary: your papa thinks you're avoiding him but once he finally finds you, he realises that he got it all wrong.

content: 2.5k words, sick care, some suggestive remarks, fluff mostly

masterlist – Ao3 link

✦ ✧ ✦ 

Papa scoffs into his afternoon coffee, nearly spilling the hot liquid all over his papal robes. Still nothing. He’s staring at his phone, the screen cracked from when it slipped out of his pocket while he fucked you on his desk two days ago. And yet he can clearly make out the two blue hooks indicating that you’ve read his message from this morning.

What he also sees is that there is still no reply. Your silence, your absence, the uncertainty – it drives him mad. He is so used to having your undivided attention, seeing your name pop up on his screen with a frequency that keeps him from getting any work done as of late. Not your name, though, no. He saved you under “amore mio” a long time ago. Not that you’re aware of it just yet, but his feelings for you have long since surpassed mere lust and friendliness.

His mind constantly wanders to you. Knowing your schedule by heart, it is easy to imagine what you’re doing, what may have you so distracted. Right now, you should be helping in the gardens, sweaty and panting from the exertions in the warm afternoon sun. He knows how pretty you look like that, even more so when you’re sprawled out underneath him as he gets lost in the soft curves of your body. He yearns to lick the salty sweat off your heaving chest, to hear your whimpers as his lips leave not a single inch of your skin untouched.

Alas, he is stuck in his office, brooding over paperwork.

He’s trying hard to concentrate on the words in front of him, not to stare at his screen all day like a depraved, starving man. Impatient, he even set the phone to vibrate but despite knowing he’d get a notification if you texted him, he taps the screen every two minutes to check. Just to make sure he doesn’t miss it. 

Oh how he’s longing for even the most delicate touch, a simple kiss on his cheek as you tell him to take it easy today, your hand squeezing his across the table. You used to do that, visit him in his office at least two times a day. Not always innocent. Actually, very rarely innocent. He can almost hear the echo of you screaming his name for half the abbey to hear. And yet, you have not been anywhere near these four desecrated walls in almost two days. Not since the last time you were intimate with him.

Why won’t you reply? A flash of doubt and a pang of anger. Could you be getting tired of him? Did he come on too strong? If that were the case, you should tell him. He’s a busy man, you of all people know that, and yet here you are practically ghosting him, as the younger Siblings call it. By now it’s almost dinner time, you must have had a chance to at least type in a yes or no. Papa knows if he can’t see you tonight he is going to lose his mind. He needs the confirmation or he’ll be nervous and distracted for the rest of his day.

Generous as he is, Papa gives you another hour, finishing up the dreadful paperwork before he has a quick dinner of reheated pasta from the day prior. It tastes like nothing to him and the emptiness of his quarters only adds to his foul mood. His eyes are still trained on his phone, the battery still half full, unused with the lack of texting. The only time his screen lights up this evening it’s to remind him that his screen time has gone up by eighty percent over the past week. It seems like that’s an issue you’re solving for him right now.

Papa knows he cannot go another night without seeing you. He needs to confront you, ask if you really lost interest or if you just need more space. Whatever it is, having clarity will be easier to bear than silence.

Entering the dorms is always risky business. People gossip, someone is going to see where he’s knocking, and while everyone knows the two of you are… something, he’s not keen on everyone speculating about why you’re suddenly on cooldown.

But when he knocks, nothing happens. He repeats the motion, rapping his knuckles against the wood three times, louder now. Nothing. He hears music, some sort of electronic beats, the tunes wafting over from another dorm room. A party, surely. Yours however remains eerily quiet. In a last attempt to find out if you’re even home, he tries the door.

It is unlocked, so you must be home. For a moment he considers leaving again but then a painful thought hits him: If you’re home, not opening up… it means you’re avoiding him. Clearly. 

What crime did he commit to deserve your ignorance? His anger propels him to enter, despite knowing he’s invading your privacy. But he cannot go back to his quarters without confronting you, not when he’s already in such pain. He’s feeling the anticipatory grief over losing you and it’s all because he let his guard down way too fast, leaning into your kindness, your loving nature. He always had a feeling that this was too good to be true, that despite thinking this time would be different, he’d end up in pain. Everyone just wants the sex, the fun, not the commitment that being with a Papa, maybe even loving a Papa, meant.

Fiddling with the doorknob, he feels awful for even thinking these things. You never gave him reason to doubt you, but it is just so easy to slip back into his old insecurities. Certain that he’s just seeing ghosts, Papa pushes the door open silently.

Upon entering the small antechamber that leads to your bedroom, he hears you moaning. He hears the rustling of sheets, the mattress creaking. A loud fuck.

Papa stops dead in his tracks, nearly toppling over as a wave of nausea hits him. For a second, his worst fears and his deepest insecurities melt into one big gooey ball of panic. He wants to be sure that what you have is special, but you never openly decided to be exclusive, that you wouldn’t see other people. He’s been meaning to ask, to tell you how he feels… too late, it seems.

But no. He soldiers on. If anyone else dares to touch you, they will receive all of his demonic, unholy wrath. He has a whole company of ghouls who would love to get a taste of human flesh again, if need be. Papa opens the door to your bedroom, anxious but driven, ready to face whatever lies behind. And he does find you in bed like he expected, only… you’re alone.

You don’t even look up. Are you sleeping? The room is stuffy, curtains closed and all he hears is your whimpering.

“Hello?” he asks quietly, his heart hammering in his chest.

“P-papa?” 

Your voice is barely audible. His anger turns into concern as he hurries to your side, sitting down at the edge of the bed. Immediately you reach for his hand in an attempt to squeeze, but it seems like you’re too weak to clench your muscles.

“Kill me, Papa. Release me from this torment,” you whine. “Please.”

“Tesoro, what is going on?”

You groan in reply, a sound only made more horrifying by the soreness of your throat. You sound like a dying animal and if he’s honest, you kind of smell like one too. He wonders how long you’ve been in this position.

“I am dying,” you whisper.

“What happened? Are you injured?”

He’s scanning your body but most of it is covered. Before he can pull away the duvet, you try to squeeze his hand yet again, this time with more vigor.

“S-sick,” you choke out. “The flu.”

“The flu?”

Papa ignores the bad conscience that’s settling in his mind and gives into his worry. He jumps up, opening the curtains and the window to let in some fresh air. You hiss like you’ve been burned, despite the sun already setting. Disregarding your complaints, Papa finds a thermometer and pain killers on your bedside table.

“We need to check if you have a fever, tesorino, can you open your pretty mouth for me?”

You giggle at his words. “I’m too sick for that, Papa.”

“You clearly have a fever if you think I’m going to laugh about this right now,” he states, removing his gloves and throwing them aside. His scowl is not in earnest, he’s not annoyed, of course, but he needs you to know your health is paramount.

“You’re so dramatic,” you whisper but you let him slot the thermometer between your lips anyway.

“I am dramatic? Who’s been locked inside their room like they have the plague without replying to my texts?” 

Papa presses the backs of his hands to your hot cheeks, acting like a mom who doesn’t trust the thermometer. You’re burning up, worrying him even more. Your skin is ashen, hair tousled, and he can see you shaking slightly.

At his words, your brow furrows. “I texted back,” you say, words muffled by the device in your mouth.

“You did not, amore. I have been wondering what I did to upset you so,” Papa admits. “I thought you were avoiding me. Ghosting me, as they say.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and as soon as Papa pulls out the thermometer, forehead scrunching up as he reads the 38.9°C, you start babbling.

“I was not, Papa. I would never. I was so sad I could not see you.” You swallow, groaning as the pain in your scratchy throat hits you. “Can you check my phone? I dropped it.”

Papa finds it under your bed. He lets you unlock it and you’re right, you did reply, only you never hit sent. I am sick in bed, Papa. I miss you too, but I would not want you to catch the flu. ♥︎

“I would never avoid you on you purpose,” you whisper, looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

He bends down to kiss your feverish forehead, feeling the heat against his lips. “I know that now, amore, don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I ever thought such a thing.”

“Amore?” you ask, grinning through a thick layer of haze. “That’s new, Papa.”

He can practically feel his cheeks turning rosy under his paint. “You know I like you, gioia mia, that is not new.”

“But amore is not just liking, right? It’s–”

“You have a fever, dolce. I need you to take the ibuprofen. Where do you keep your glasses?”

You pout at his interruption and with one last look at your puckered lips, he jumps up, avoiding not only your question but also the intense urge to kiss you. You’re in no condition to have a deep conversation right now. He searches the cupboards in your tiny kitchenette until he finds a glass he can fill with water. By the looks of it, you have not eaten all day, it’s far too clean.

“I don’t know if I can swallow,” you whine upon his return.

“We both know you’re very good at swallowing, amore. Open up.”

You frown without any real intensity and it’s an adorable sight, even in your messy, unkempt state. “I thought we weren’t joking about this.”

“It is allowed when I do it,” Papa says, practically shoving the pill into your mouth. “Drink, amore. You need liquids.”

You manage to swallow and the water feels like honey but only for a moment before the pain returns and your throat protests wildly. Even so, your mind still clings to his words.

“Papa,” you whine, reaching for his hand as soon as he’s set down the glass.

His mismatched eyes flicker to yours, still worried. “Yes?”

“You never answered.”

“We should talk about this tomorrow, sì? When you feel better.” At your sad expression he gives your hand a comforting squeeze. “I will go find some soup for you now, some other medication.”

“But I don’t want you to leave.”

“I will come back, dolce, you don’t make that pretty head worry too much, eh?” 

You whimper dramatically. “But what if I am dead by then?”

Papa sighs but it’s followed by deep chuckle as he playfully rolls his eyes at you. “You win, amore, I will text one of the ghouls.”

As soon as the text is sent, Papa closes the window again and starts to undress. From your position on the bed you’re watching him like a hawk, pulling a fuzzy blanket over your mouth to hide your grin. He can’t help but find it endearing and suddenly he feels even worse for assuming the worst today. Once he’s in his briefs and undershirt, he crawls into bed behind you, pulling you close. You’re a little sweaty, not exactly smelling fresh, but he doesn’t mind. Feeling your warmth, having you tucked against him, it’s all he really needs. 

And as his heart does a flip, racing thanks to your proximity, he gently cups your cheek. “Do you think you can give me a kiss, amore?”

“But you’ll get sick,” you whisper, the protest dying as soon as he tilts your chin up.

His lips graze yours, softly pressing in more and more until you melt against him. Even your lips are warmer than usual and he keeps it chaste, breaking away to look into your eyes again.

“Papas don��t get sick, eh?” He gives a tender kiss to your forehead, gently running his fingers through your hair before they settle on your back. “Now, you wanted an answer.”

Your look is pleading and it’s like your shining eyes are trying to lure the words right out of him. He wonders how he ever worried you may not feel the same when it’s written all over your face. His nerves start showing then, fidgety fingers drawing tiny patterns on your back, and he can feel your hands pressing into his chest, gripping at the fabric of his shirt.

“I love you,” he finally says. “You are my amore, my love. Tieni il mio cuore in mano. Please, I want to ask you to be mine.”

“I love you, too.” A big grin spreads out on your face. You lean in to kiss him again, softly moving your lips against his, and you stay impossibly close as you whisper. “And I am yours, forever, if you are mine.”

Papa smiles against your mouth and for a moment he forgets that you’re sick and kisses you harder. When he breaks away, you’re breathless, coughing softly, but he can tell by the happy look on your face that it was worth it.

“I am yours, amore,” he says. “I am yours forever, if Satan allows me.”

You settle against his solid chest, warm cheek pressed to the skin just above the neckline of his shirt. After today, your Papa vows to take better care of you, to trust you fully and cast any doubts aside as soon as they arise. And so he wraps his arms around you even tighter, whispering soft praises  into your hair until you’re finally asleep again, the only sound in the room your soft and even breathing.

non vedo l’ora di baciarti – I can’t wait to kiss you

tieni il mio cuore in mano – you hold my heart in your hand

[ultralightpoe]

Bigger Than The Whole Sky - Ethan Landry

Authors Note: I have been trying to find any sort of energy to post and get out of bed. Got so close to giving up on life itself and I'm barely back, please bare with me as I try to find my way out of my depression hole I have dug for myself everyone. I know it's been a minute but life has been kicking my ass. Be patient with me - Ultralight

Word Count: 3405

Warnings: thoughts of su!cide, angst, grief.

Apart of my MIDNIGHTS EVENT. (Next Event is Sour by Olivia Rodrigo. Requests closed. Event following yet to be decided)

SOUR EVENT

MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy!

No words appear before me in the aftermath

Salt streams out my eyes and into my ears

Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

It all went numb at some point. 

You didn’t know when, and you weren’t really mad about it considering it helped with the stab wounds, but at some point after you found out you just…..lost it…….lost the spark. Every will to survive just vanished like smoke in the wind. You had no strength left. 

Police officers snapped in front of your face, desperate to get your statement on the events as medics panicked and tried to get your attention, yelling to each other that you were going into a state of shock as reporters filmed and yelled to get the scoop. You didn’t really think you were going into shock, no, shock was when you go frozen and cold from a traumatic incident. 

This…… this was just pure heartbreak. 

Ethan……….. Ethan had- 

And just like that you were leaning forward to spill your guts as the medic in front of you curses and backs out of the way, tears running down your cheeks hotly as you suck in a sharp breath. You had given absolutely everything to him, you had given EVERYTHING. 

And yet you weren’t angry or upset…… you were just numb. 

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

You were bigger than the whole sky

You were more than just a short time

And I've got a lot to pine about

I've got a lot to live without

I'm never gonna meet

What could've been, would've been

What should've been you

What could've been, would've been you

That feeling of numbness quickly passed, and you were left with an unending sadness that just made you tired. 

The news had already published the story over and over, his face took over your phone every time you opened any form of social media and you had yet to clear out all the photos you had taken during your relationship. There was no escaping it, not that you truly wanted to. 

You would never admit that to the others, since they had gone straight to anger. 

They just didn’t understand…. You always thought, which would bring a bitter laugh to your lips because what didn’t they understand? Sam had her boyfriend betray her, Tara lost her childhood best friend from it, Sidney fucking prescott had lost so many people to it. It was a tale as old as time. One falls in love, gets betrayed and stabbed and moves on. 

But you couldn’t move on, you couldn’t leave him. Ethan had stitched you up when you scrambled your way into his life, broken and torn after losing your brother Wes and your mother last round. 

He had saved you. 

“-Yes Mindy,” You snap, reaching a hand to cover your face as you pass a group of kids with their phones pointed at you, the overnight bag carried on your shoulder weighing you down a bit as your boots scuffed on the floor. “I have my taser.”

“I just don’t understand why you decided to walk by yourself in the middle of the night.” She scoffs, the sound of doja cat behind her. “You should’ve called me-”

“First off, my roommate brought a boy over, I hadn’t planned on this. Second of all, you realize I can hear your sex playlist in the background, right?” You fake a laugh for her, trying your best not to let her know you were scared because then she would leave Anika and you didn’t want her to do that since she had worked so hard to get this date. 

“Just call me when you get there?” 

“How about I send you a smiley emoji?” 

“If you send me an emoji I will-”

“Oh, I see a 7-11, I’m gonna stop and get your brother a slushie to ease my arrival. Gotta go-” You rush to hang up, ignoring her disapproval and dashing into the light of the gas station. 

By the time you make it to Chad’s dorm you are shaking and trying your best not to have a panic attack in the middle of the hallway. Arms full with snacks and slushees as you use your foot to pound on the door. 

You prepare a wide smile on your face for when he opens the door, shimmying to ease the tension in your shoulders, doing your best to seem happy. 

But when the door swings open it’s not the cocky smile of Chad that greets you rather than the nervous expression of the curly haired kid in one of your classes, staring at you with wide eyes. “C-can I help you?”

“Oh. Sorry. I was- uh- maybe I had the wrong room?” You blush, stepping back to survey the hall for room numbers. “Crap-”

“Who are you looking for? I know everyones rooms.” He offers, leaning out the door to survey the hall himself. “Dylan? Right? He has a lot of girls come in so-”

“Chad. Chad Meeks.” You snap, blush deepening at the Dylan comment. 

“OH! Yeah, in here. I’m his roommate.” The kid explains, stepping out of the way and widening the door. He waits a second, staring at you as you stare back wide eyed, the room behind him pitch black. He looks confused for a moment before turning to see what the problem was, jumping a bit when he realizes and twisting for the light switch. 

“Sorry- I was sleeping- I wasn’t doing anything else I swear.” He rushes out, shaking his hands. “I am not a creep I swear.”

“You still have the lotion on the shelf-” He whirls to look and you try to stifle your laughter, turning to the bed on the right. “Where is Chad?”

“He went to check on Tara or something. Should be back in like…. soon ?” 

“Okay. Cool. I can go to a coffee shop until he gets here then.” 

“What? Why would you do that? You can wait here no problem.” He shrugs, moving to sit at his desk. You wait a moment before pushing the slushee out to him. 

“Then here. You can have Chad’s slushee.” 

“Thanks.” He smiles, grabbing it softly. “You do the econ homework yet?” 

“We had homework?” You laugh, moving to grab the homework from him. 

Did some bird flap its wings over in Asia?

Did some force take you because I didn't pray?

Every single thing to come has turned into ashes

'Cause it's all over, it's not meant to be

So I'll say words I don't believe

Your court ordered therapist said that you might have relied on him too much, after being broken down from the last incident you had grasped onto the first kind soul you met. She believed that you were trying to fix the trust back, find the nice kind person you once had been. 

You believed she was just telling you anything to make you feel better, right before she stamped a red flag on your papers for ‘DANGEROUSLY DEPRESSED’ and prescribing you hundreds of pills that you would dump down the toilet and tell her you were taking. It was a fun game. 

But she might have been right about the relying thing.  Like walking around with a broken leg, relying on a crutch only for it to break and leave to tumbling down a hill straight into the knife of someone you completely trusted wearing a stupid mask because they were too chicken to face you-

“Y/n!” Chad calls, reaching a hand on your shoulder and squeezing as tightly as he could, which after all the nerve damage and stab wounds wasn’t really much. 

“I’m listening!” You rush, snapping to look at your four friends. 

“No you weren’t.” He laughs, pulling his hand back and keeping it close to him. “We were deciding dinner and if you were listening you would recommend what you always recommend-”

“Pizza.” 

“Oh. My. God.” He groans as Mindy reaches out to hug around your shoulders, pulling you tight. 

“Leave my sister alone.” 

“I’m your brother.”

“Chadward. Can you please just…..shhhhhh?” You ask, flipping him off. This draws a laugh from your friends and you imitate them, but your laugh isn’t the slightest bit real which leaves you feeling lost.  And a bit awkward. 

“You okay?” Sam asks, leaning closer to you so no one else hears. You nod, not trusting actual words to come out. She obviously does not believe it but you claim to be thirsty and leave for some water. 

“You’re actually telling me that you prefer Star Trek over Star Wars?!” Ethan asks, eyes wide as he walks beside you on the way to Econ, adjusting his shoulder bag so as to not let it fall.  “What is wrong with you?”

“More like what is right with me! You really like all that incest crap?”

“Oh…. you are going there?” he gasps and you shrug. “Then what do you think about the Targaryens, huh?”

He laughs when you stop short, thinking your reaction was due to his question, but in reality you had just seen someone design across the yard with a ghostface mask on, the football team laughing at the strangers antics. 

“What a jerk.” Ethan sighs when he finally spots it, moving to block your view as you both walk. 

It had been 2 weeks since you met Ethan, and ever since he had walked you to and from Econ which you found that you loved more than anything else. During these walks you got to argue over anything and everything nerdish, just easy and happy conversations. Plus you got to stand close to him which was always a plus since you loved how he smelled and his sweaters were always soft on your skin. 

“Did you do the homework?” You ask, changing the subject to get your mind off the douchebag in the mask. 

“Yes. And you can copy it when we get inside.” He laughs, shuffling past you to open the door quickly, holding it open for you with an easy smile. 

“After you, Spock.”

“Oh why thank you Han Solo!” You smile, flipping your hair as you walk past him. 

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

You were bigger than the whole sky

You were more than just a short time

And I've got a lot to pine about

You spent your mornings in bed, the sheets tucked around you tightly like a butterfly in the cocoon, staring blankly at your wall.  In these moments you could barely muster the energy to lift your head from the pillow, eyes glazed with tears. 

What was the point of anything?  Why were you here when Ethan was……. Gone. Ethan, the brilliant kind soul that had an amazing future for himself was taken from the world while were wasting space. 

You were never as smart as him, not nearly as funny or great. You had no future, which was ironic considering you were the one here……unless. 

No. 

Don’t think about it, that was rule number one.

But it would make things so much easier. 

You wouldn’t do it. 

No one would miss you…..

For a second your body melts into the sheets as you think about it, all the possibilities and the freedom it would bring. No more getting out of bed and no more stares from people. No more ghostface -.

But you couldn’t, and you wouldn’t. 

So you stand, and force yourself to run a bath, sinking into the heat of it as you close your eyes, leaning back so you are completely submerged. Like the hot water could wash away your past, give you an entirely clean slate.

When your head hits the bottom, hands gripping tightly to the sides of the tub as you listen to your heartbeat under the water, the steady thump of it calming you down a bit while you open your eyes. 

And there he is, blurry through the water, leaning over the tub to watch you carefully. Almost as if he were scared……Ethan. 

Ethan was here, and he was scared. 

Ethan. 

“You were so nervous on our first date, remember that? And look at you now.” You tease, hitting Ethan’s shoulder with a twizzler while he fakes swagger, posing for you which leads you to cackle. “He said  ‘we’ll take the large popcorn AND the twizzlers.”

“You know it.”

“College boy has moneyyyyyyyyy-” For a moment you imitate throwing cash, making him dance under the imaginary paper, both of you humming out words to a random pop song. “Get it. Get it. Get it.”

“I’m rich…. And you suck!” He snaps, moving to walk off as you gasp. 

“And you are no longer getting laid!” 

“Wait- wait I didn’t mean it.” 

“Too late dork brains.”

“Gimme another chance here. I’ll splurge for a slushee.”

“You should have splurged for the slushee in the first place rich college boy.” You tease, walking past him. “I’m not cheap, you know. One of a kind over here.”

“Don’t I know it.” He blushes, moving forward to pull you close, walking with his arm over your shoulders. “You know I love you right?”

“I know.” You wink, smiling when he laughs at the Star Wars reference. “Now come on, we have a movie to watch.”

“Heck yeah.” He grabs your hand, leading you into the theater, checking behind him every couple of seconds to make sure you were still there and okay. Three months into dating Ethan and you were absolutely in love with the man. 

I've got a lot to live without

I'm never gonna meet

What could've been, would've been

What should've been you

“Y/n!” He shouts, muffled by the water, reaching his hands into the water to pull you up. When you break the surface you are gasping and spluttering out, hands clinging onto his sleeves tightly with tears streaming down your face. 

“You’re here….” You sob, leaning out of the tub to hug him tightly, your face shoving itself into your shoulder as he wraps himself around you, his sleeves wet against your back while you sob into his shoulder.  “I missed you, you ruined my life.”

“I’m sorry, believe me, that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“You’re not gonna leave again? Right?!”  

“No… no I’m here.” He whispers, moving to take his shoes off and climb into the tub, pulling you so your back was to his chest and wrapping his arms around you once more, his hoodie just as soft as it always ways and his cheek resting gently on your shoulder. 

“You need to focus.” You mumble, not looking up at Ethan as he stares at you. “We have a test.”

“Halloween is coming up.” He scoffs. “What’s the point?”

“Woah, what has been going on with you lately? Are you dying after halloween? Do you turn into a pumpkin when the clock strikes midnight?” You tease, looking up at him finally. “Seriously you keep talking like halloween is the end of it all.”

“I’m just stressed, that’s all.” He shrugs, moving to lay his forehead on your arm while you kiss the top of his head. 

“It’s date night tonight, what do you want to do-” Before you could finish the question his phone rings on the table, and he snatches it up when you look to see who is calling. 

“I’ll see you later, okay?” He rushes, kissing your cheek and leaving without another word. 

What could've been, would've been

What should've been you

(What could've been, would've been)

What could've been, would've been you

(Could've been, would've been)

(Could've been, would've been)

Silence fills the room as you both sit there, the heat from the bath calming you down as you twist to lay your cheek on the arm he had on the edge of the bath, closing your eyes. 

“What’s the plan, Y/n?” He breaks the silence, taking his left hand and rubbing the wet hair off your forehead. 

“To sleep here and forget the world.”

“I meant the life plan.”

“Don’t have one.”

“Yes….you do.”

“I plan on-”

“Be serious. Tell me your plan.”

“Do I really need one?”

“With the thought you were having this morning? Yes.”

“How did you know about my thoughts?”

“You have a future you know.” He whispers. “You have an amazing future ahead of you, without me.”

“I don’t think I can make it….”

“You can. I know you can.”

“I just want to sleep…….can you just hum for me? Like you always do?” You cry, reaching up to touch his hoodie. 

“I can do that.” 

He put you in his hoodie the night you stayed over, snatching it from where you had thrown it on the ground in both your rushes to get to his bed, pulling your arms into the sleeves as he kissed up your arms. His lips graze your collar bone before he kisses up your neck, smiling when you close your eyes. 

“Come on, I’ll tuck you in.” He whispers, hugging you close as you both waddle to the bed, shuffling in together until you were both lying down. Your head on his chest as he hummed softly, after a moment you can’t help but laugh when you realize what he is humming. 

“Are you humming me the imperial march?”

“No!” He rushes which makes you laugh even more. “It is so not funny-”

“No no no, I loved it. Keep humming keep humming.” You whisper, moving to look up at him with your chin on his chest. “It was great.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re gorgeous?” He whispers back, bringing a hand up to rub a thumb across your cheek. 

“You….everyday. Like 10 minutes ago when you finished inside m-”

“WOW!” He interrupts, blushing and laughing. 

“You’re handsome.” You answer, leaning up to kiss him before laying back down. “Now keep humming.”

“I can do that.”

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

You were bigger than the whole sky

You were more than just a short time

And I've got a lot to pine about

I've got a lot to live without

I'm never gonna meet

What could've been, would've been

What should've been you

When you wake up you are alone, in his sweater and in your pajamas, the bath cold and the sun streaming in. He wasn’t actually here, you realize, he never was. You had managed to sit in a bath fully clothed, and fall asleep. 

There is pounding on the door, drawing your attention quickly, making you rush to jump out to answer it. 

When you open the front door Sam is standing there, taking one look at your tear streaked face and soaked clothes before she is diving in to grab you in her arms. She holds you tight as you collapse, rocking you slowly as you sob into her chest. 

“I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay.”

“He did terrible things to us- and I can’t fucking get it together.”

“You’re doing great. There is no correct way to go about this.”

“I miss him.”

“That’s okay.”

“I wanted a future with him.”

“You deserved one.” And when Sam says it there was no malicious hint to it, just a soft understanding smile. “But you deserve a future after him too.”

“I cannot believe we are actually doing this.” You laugh, rushing past your friend to snatch your shoe from the bookshelf, you had no clue how it got there. “Ohmygod! Hurry hurry hurry!”

She laughs, letting you snatch her hand and rush you out the door, both of you running as fast as you can to the train stop. 

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.” She mumbles, excitement written on her features as you both huddle together on the seat. While she panics you take a second to check your phone, smiling when you see that Sam had sent you the pictures from her wedding you attended months ago, both of you smiling widely.

The lights flicker on the train, and for a moment your heart stops, you take a second to look around……and for as long as it has been you are ashamed to admit you wait to see Ethan on the other side of the train. 

But he is not here and you were no longer there. 

You were in your future, living bigger than the whole sky just as he would want. 

Which meant Taylor Swift of course…….

[angrelysimpping]

don’t mind me,, i’m just,, i’m just thinking abt,, kylar with a popular delinquent pc who constantly bullies and torments him,, not in a whitney level bullying though,, maybe just a light shove whenever they come across them in the hallways,, while the pc just yells every single insult in the book at him,, even though his beloved is like this he knows they’re a huge sweetheart 💞💓,, so eventually he got sick and tired of his future spouse still keeping up the act to keep their reputation in tact and he just,, shoves them in a closet and,, breeds they’re bratty ass shut 🥰🥰,, who’s the weak freak now? definitely not him,, when ur under his mercy moaning like a bitch in heat,, they both can barely walk after that 💗💓,, the janitor will surely have the time of his life cleaning the “strange white substance” all over the school 🥰🥰

Warnings: AMAB Kylar (he/him); GN Reader (you/your); noncon turned dubcon

Words: 331

He’d caught you by surprise, that’s what you keep telling yourself. No way Kylar would be able to overpower you otherwise. 

Or fuck you, for that matter. 

You were one of the top dogs in the school. Popular among the students, a delinquent to the teachers. You were untouchable. 

Yet, here you are, Kylar rutting between your legs like a man possessed, a wild look in his eye as he mumbles about how much he loves you, how he just had to remind you of that.

The worse part is that it feels good. No matter what you do, it feels good to have Kylar fucking you senseless.

When you can stand again, you’ll fuck him up. You’ll remind him of who you are, of his place.

You will.

Except, that time seems like it’s getting further and further away. 

Whether you like it or not, you’ve cummed on Kylar’s cock multiple times now, thighs sore and mind hazy from it. You think he has too, but it’s hard to tell at this point. He just keeps going, like a frenzied animal. 

Like you’re never going to get out of this cramped closet. Like you’re never going to know a moment where Kylar isn’t making you lose your mind with pleasure. 

You’re not even aware of the sounds you’re making, any restraint you had has long gone. 

When Kylar finally stills, collapses on top of you, exhausted, you can’t move. Not because of Kylar, no, you’ve manhandled Kylar before. But, you’re exhausted. Even with this golden opportunity to get Kylar back staring you in the face, you couldn’t move if you wanted to.

And…you’re not really sure you actually want to.

As fucked as it sounds, you’re not sure you want to get away from Kylar now. Or to enact any kind of revenge. 

His cock is still buried inside you and, strangely enough, you almost don’t want him to pull out.

You almost want him to start fucking you again. 

[player1064]

Carra fucking off to skiing and David and Gary are immediately going all ♥ ♥ ♥ come get your man back James

So for a prompt if you still do them: Everyone is sick and tired of carraville dancing around each other but being cowards to actually do anything about it, so to get things moving Becks starts dropping hints that he might make a move on Gary.

(next time they meet gary's neck is full of hickeys and carra is very smug. they are even more insufferable than before. roy is rolling his eyes so hard he is able to see his own brain)

LOVE the idea of becks also being in on a plot to get them together. and of everyone asking becks to do it for them bc they don't want to/are too scared/lazy/dumb to do it themselves

---

“David,” says Scholesy.

“Scholesy,” says David.

“David, he’s driving me insane. I seriously cannot take it anymore.”

David doesn’t bother asking who ‘he’ is, or what he’s driving Scholesy insane about, because it’d be the same answer as it’s been for the past god knows how many years.

“I’m sure the two of them will figure it out eventually,” he offers sympathetically, to which Scholesy just groans in frustration.

“I’ll be long dead before that ‘appens.”

*

“Becks, I swear, they’re getting worse by the day.”

He and Keaney are sat with Wrighty at a little table in the media lounge at Wembley, watching Gary joke around with Carragher a few feet away. The two of them seem to be in their own little bubble, completely oblivious to the others around them. Their constant laughter is loud and annoying, especially since as far as David can tell neither of them is actually saying anything that funny.

It's kind of sweet, really.

“I think it’s sweet,” Wrighty says. “Don’t you remember how intense they both were as players? This is a massive improvement.”

“Yeah, but it’s driving me nuts! I mean, this is one thing, but it’s all the stupid little sighs and the – the longing looks, it’s enough to make you lose the will to live.”

In the past few months, David has had to listen to complaints about Gary and Carragher from every single one of his old friends from United, as well as some old England teammates that have worked with them at Sky or on The Overlap. They all seem to be under the impression that something needs to be done about it, that they can’t just let it run its natural course.

They also all seem to be in agreement that the person who needs to be doing something about it is David.

He wonders absently if it’s not too late to hand the ‘Gaz’s best friend’ card off to somebody else.

*

“So, Carragher.”

“What about him?”

Gary blinks at David from across the table, and if David didn’t know him so well he’d think he was being deliberately obtuse. Unfortunately, David does know him, well enough to know that he really is just that stupid.

He shoots him a Look, which has the desired effect of making Gary scowl at him, and then he says “nothin’, nothin’. Just noticed you two’ve been working together a lot lately.”

Gary shrugs. “He’s a good partner, to be fair. People like our dynamic. And he’s smart, though don’t tell ‘im I said that.”

“You spend much time with him outside of work?”

Gary squints, his face scrunching up in confusion. “Outside of work?” he asks, like it’s a completely foreign concept to him. Like there is no outside of work.

Which, it’s Gary, so for him there probably isn’t.

Maybe David needs to try a different approach.

*

The next time Gary is in London to cover a game with Sky, David shoots him a quick text asking dinner?, which Gary responds to with a thumbs up and the name of his hotel. Whether that’s because he wants to eat there or because he wants David to come pick him up he’s not sure, but either way he finds himself pulling up outside the Corinthia hotel that Friday evening, dressed in his smartest jeans and an unfussy old blazer.

He goes into the bar area, thinking he’ll order a drink and wait for Gary to come down, but Gary’s already there, sat at the bar with Carragher.

Perfect.

David meanders over to them, feeling slightly smug that he’s still enough to tear Gary’s attention away from Jamie, that Gary still gives him a glowy smile when he sees him approaching.

When he gets to them he shakes Jamie’s hand in greeting, pressing his other hand to the small of Gary’s back as he does so. Gary startles momentarily at the contact, but he quickly shakes it off and leans into the touch, beaming up at David.

“Becks!” he greets. “Me ‘n Carra were just catchin’ up while I was waitin’ for you to arrive. He’s stayin’ here this weekend, too, y’see.”

David notices that while Gary’s nattering away, Jamie’s eyes are fixed on where his hand is resting on Gary’s back, his lips pressed tightly together. David catches his eye and winks, giving him his prettiest smile.

He figures he might as well go all in, get the whole thing over and done with sooner rather than later, so he bends his head down to kiss the top of Gary’s head while he carries on chatting nonsense about tomorrow’s game.

The kiss stops Gary in his tracks, makes him blush a familiar shade of pink and then preen a bit, smiling up at David warmly.

Meanwhile, Jamie’s looking between the two of them like he’s ready to kill someone. Gary doesn’t spare him a second glance.

“Wha’d’ya fancy eating, Gaz?” David asks softly, pretending not to have noticed Jamie’s reaction.

“Whatever you like,” Gary says, just like he always does when the two of them go out to eat. “They’ve a pretty decent restaurant here, if you don’t fancy goin’ out. Otherwise, you prob’ly know the restaurants around London better’n I do, don’t you?”

*

David accidentally-on-purpose runs into him at the stadium the next day, and once again asks if he fancies going out for dinner.

“Erm,” Gary replies, reaching his hand up to rub at a dark patch on his neck. “I dunno, really, not sure if there’s anythin’ else Sky wants us for tonight, y’know?”

“Carragher can come too, if he wants,” David offers, rolling his eyes with a smirk at the way Gary instantly brightens.

“Oh!” he says, a blush rising up his cheeks, “oh, alright then! Think we’re both free, now that I think about it. I’ll just go check with ‘im and let you know.”

[driftwithme]

Little big au where Scott Hansen died in jail regretting what he did because he died alone and away from his brother and nephew. His ghost ended up within Herc's memories and his feelings, mostly dormant, 'til the Double Event woke him up the second the electric pulse hit Striker.

He got caught by it before he could return to Herc, so when Pentecost and Chuck piloted it to Pitfall, he was able to watch it all with all the horror of seeing his nephew going to the end of the world basically alone.

As he heard Chuck's final words, he took all the energy left in him. It couldn't end like that for Herc. It could not. Losing Angela, then losing him (Scott) and now losing Chuck? No, Scott needed to do something, fuck.

Pentecost would never disrespect Chuck by ejecting him, but Scott? Oh, he didn't care much about morals then. Fuck the world and the Marshall and every single kaiju and fuck bomb and the jaeger program.

Cursing a storm, Scott prefers to never reach the afterlife, using his existence to gamble for Chuck's life instead. He posseses Striker for a second, triggers everything to go faster than it physically should be capable of and sends Chuck, now passed out due the shock and other factors, towards the surface on his escape-pod.

Funnily enough, Yancy Beckets does the same for his little brother in the Anteverse. 14-10 seconds are not enough for Raleigh to make it out of the Breach alive while it was collapsing. Raleigh should be dead, given the level of radiation that a literal closing portal between dimensions implies.

But against all odds, Chuck and Raleigh end up surviving. A bit later after the final scene of the movie, Raleigh remembers he saw his brother when he was escaping the Anteverse and Yancy told him some numbers, before saying his goodbye. Raleigh must had been dreaming, but when he says the numbers out loud, Tendon clocks it as coordinates.

Chuck's there, waiting. Nothing functions on his escape-pod, nothing to help LOCCENT on the job of finding him and yet--

Chuck looks sick. Everyone thinks it's the near death experience. He doesn't talk for a while. He finds out Raleigh was the one who knew his location and goes to pick another fight, but this time Herc can see the fear that is underneath. So can Raleigh. He looks,, well he looks spooked.

Raleigh face falls immediately and Chuck just knows then and they both freeze right there in the middle of their confrontation. The hair on Herc's arms stands on point and he takes both to his office, demanding an explanation.

It lands like its own bomb on Herc's chest.

Tell your dad I'm sorry, kid. I'm sorry, okay? I--

-- couldn't stay, Rals. Not even if I wanted and believe me, I wanted. If I could--

-- but it's done now. I fucked up my time with him. With you too. Ha, I know you both hate me and you should. You should. So then hate me for this too. When you wake up--

-- you need to find him. There's no turning back time, kiddo, but this? This we can do. Find him, take him home to his dad. See that he doesn't end up like us. And Raleigh? I love you. Good--

-- bye, Charles. Be good and say goodbye for me to your dad.

Mako finds them like this: Herc wrapping his arms around both young rangers, who were too busy trying not to choke on their words and the memory to react on time. They are slightly smaller, Herc shouldn't be using his sprained arm and the entire interaction feels heavy and tired. Still, she catches a glimpse of tears when Chuck turns away and leaves, not even noticing her. Raleigh smiles softly to Herc, exchanges some words with Herc and goes after Chuck, now more serious.

When Mako looks at the Marshall, she sees grief, a terrible terrible kind that echoes with her own sorrow. She also sees pride when he opens his arms to her to offer a hug, almost shy and awkward but happy all the same.

[keyshui]

i present to you, a very unserious post in which i insult every NHL team!

(this is all exaggerated so don’t get mad at me)

anaheim ducks - why is it that 1/3 of the way through the season you remember how to play hockey? like at this point it’s useless since you’re not making the playoffs and if you keep up like this you sure aren’t getting bedard

arizona coyotes - i do not like your jerseys. you would be forgettable but you suck too much for it

boston bruins - the only thing your team has going for you are your goalies and i hope next season you end up where the ducks are rn: not good enough for the playoffs and not bad enough for the draft lottery. sorry garnet hathaway (please come back)

buffalo sabres - i can define your entire team in one word: disappointment

calgary flames - anything good about you died when matthew tkachuk decided to go to florida. sorry!

carolina hurricanes - something about the “canes” nickname annoys the shit out of me. i hope you get a first round exit purely so the fans enjoying their team being good for once can be upset about it

chicago blackhawks - do i even have to say anything? because ew

colorado avalanche - literally how did you win the cup last year? thanks for the cup winning goalie btw <3 kuemper is better as a cap

columbus blue jackets - you don’t deserve bedard and i hope you lose the lottery since you’re clearly not pulling yourself out of the tank like the ducks

dallas stars - your jerseys are fucking ugly and the only stars player i can think of is tyler seguin (seriously… why that green…)

detroit red wings - you have the most obnoxious fan base i have ever had the displeasure of being in the same stadium with. LET GO OF THE 90s!!! PLEASE

edmonton oilers - how do you have two of the best players in the league and still manage to fail to get a cup every single playoffs

florida panthers - honestly if it weren’t for matthew tkachuk trade and the all stars game you’d be a dying, forgettable team

los angeles kings - i literally cant think of anything to put here. that’s how little you matter.

minnesota wild - one time in like 2019 the wild squished the caps at a game i was at so i decided that the wild suck. other than that y’all are so forgettable that i don’t have anything else to say

montreal canadiens - how is it that you keep managing to get beaten so so badly by teams that suck?

nashville predators - uuuugly ass jerseys and stuuuupid ass name

new jersey devils - jack hughes isn’t as hot as y’all think he is both in terms of attraction and skill

new york islanders - i hold a deep seated hatred for all new york city teams. you and your fanbases are so goddamn annoying

new york rangers - same with the islanders except 10x worse purely because of the little rivalry the caps hage with you (hope tom wilson squishes you tonight <3)

ottawa senators - really says something about your team that you had to name brady tkachuk of all people captain

philadelphia flyers - literally what is your logo i hate it. the only thing you have going for you is gritty and even that gets tiring REAL fast

pittsburgh penguins - i don’t care if the caps/pens rivalry doesn’t exist anymore it’s ingrained into me i hate you all and especially sidney crosby. you’re an aging team. retire already. ovechkin is better and malkin is overhyped

san jose sharks - wasted a sick ass team name on a depressing team

seattle kraken - y’all were doing so good at the start of the season what the hell happened. now it’s just disappointment…

st. louis blues - you’re one of those teams that i forget isn’t fake sometimes. like you’re not forgettable you’re just not… real

tampa bay lightning - i don’t get the hype the fanbase has for vasilevsky and your gray/yellow jerseys are way better than the normal ones

toronto maple leafs - auston matthews is not hot even slightly y’all just have competency kinks and it’s sad

vancouver canucks - quinn hughes looks so haunted and depressed all the time for a reason

vegas golden knights - did y’all think you were being funny when you decided to match with the kings?

washington capitals - jesus fuck just retire the entire goddamn team at this point. stop sending your prospects to the ahl and fucking play them if you want to give your roster some “youth” (i’m looking at you gmbm & laviolette)

winnipeg jets - if it weren’t for the fact that i used a website to make this list alphabetical order i would’ve forgotten you

[keyh0use]

kinktober Day 10: Edging

Part 1. Rafe unintentionally hurting Barry's feelings, Rafe being a giant brat, they can't communicate like adults, jealousy, insecurity.

Barry was a fucking menace and Rafe was over it. What started as something that could have been perceived as friendly—though unintentional—competition quickly spiralled into something more sinister. It all began when Barry made a comment while fucking Rafe into the mattress, just a little dig about how cute it was the kook was trained to only come with Barry's cock buried in him—how Rafe needed his boyfriend or he'd be left unsatisfied. And yeah, the boy understood where a misunderstanding like that could come from. In the beginning of their relationship, Rafe had zero experience and every little thing made him blow his load, but all desired roads ultimately led to being fucked. Once Rafe experienced the high associated with having his guts rearranged, how could anything compare? Still, it wasn't like he was broken or something. If he wanted to come without Barry's assistance, surely he could. It just so happened that the older man was always readily available, after all they lived together, and Barry only worked five minutes away. It was an hour after the comment, the two men showered together and settled into the couch that Rafe decided to correct the assumption, assuring Barry that he could come without cock if he wanted to.

I don't need you, Barry, the boy clarified. I can come without you, so, yeah. Barry had cocked a brow and let out a little laugh, brushing off any further insistence the boy made. The last thing Rafe thought would happen was that correcting Barry would lead to being denied the prick he rocked himself to sleep on every single fucking night—but it did. Come bed time, Rafe scooted back against his man and nothing happened. Every night since they started sleeping together, even when sick or tired, Barry would fuck him and stay buried inside afterwards, the two of them as close as physically possible. But that night, Barry nodded off to sleep. Barry wasn't an overly competitive man, something so foreign and strange to a kook, but Rafe knew his silent refusal had nothing to do with winning. No, it was about Rafe losing.

He believed Rafe needed it, and wouldn't give it up until that was admitted.

The next morning Rafe woke frustrated and horny and alone. He's not an early riser but he's always up when his man's alarm goes off so they can get off before Barry runs out. Not today, obviously.

Rafe all but stomps down the hallway into the kitchen, finding the older man placing a stack of dirty dishes in the sink.

"G'mornin', country club," he drawls.

"Would be if you woke me up," grumbles Rafe.

Barry wipes his hands on an old dish towel before crossing the room. "Sorry, baby, ya' looked so tired," explains the older man, smoothing rough palms down the boy's curved back.

And yeah, Rafe was tired—because his whole routine was thrown off. "I am," he admits, pouring himself into Barry's chest. Rafe didn't brush his teeth but Barry didn't seem to care when they were crowded against the counter heatedly making out, warm hands caressing planes of hard muscle and fingers woven into curly hair. And then an alarm sounded and Barry was pulling away with a sheepish smile, mumbling an apology that didn't feel genuine before pressing one last, chaste kiss to Rafe's frown. Then he was gone. Rafe thinks this would be a grievance for them both, if only Barry wasn't coming either. But he is. That night the boy took Barry out to dinner, ulterior motives aside it was nice to dress up and flirt. Around the time they were finishing up and waiting on the bill, Rafe's foot slid up Barry's calf under the table and settled flat against his crotch, applying just enough pressure to have the older man shifting uncomfortably as his slacks tightened. They barely made it out of the parking lot before Rafe was grabbed by the nape and yanked over the centre console, sloppily blowing Barry the whole way home and getting come shot down his throat for the effort. And then the older man gave him a searing kiss, hopped out and rounded the truck to open his door and...nothing. They went inside and cuddled up on the couch while Barry read.

The next morning was almost the same. Rafe slept like shit, found Barry in the shower and jerked him off and then he was running off to work, leaving his very madden, very distraught boyfriend alone with a painfully stiff prick. Rafe tried to finish by himself, again and again like clockwork but a fist around his cock or awkwardly angled fingers inside him did nothing to ease the ball of need in his stomach. So he'd stop with a frustrated cry and roll over to bury his face in Barry's pillow, inhaling the scent until he's calmed down enough to try again—to no avail. It was officially the third day he hasn't been fucked and Rafe was losing it. The clock read 2:36 AM and quite frankly, the kook no longer gave a fuck about Barry having to work in the morning, it wasn't fair the older man kept getting his own release and left Rafe to figure it out on his own. It was pathetic how just looking at Barry's handsome face had him all worked up, erection pressed hotly against the older man's hip. He's rocking mindlessly, craving the contact and the friction. "Barry," the boy whispers, having to repeat himself only twice before dark eyes sleepily flicker open. Barry blinks a couple times into the dim room, lit only by a sliver of light from beneath the door. "What? You good?" Rafe lets out a distressed noise to the question that has his man sighing. "I need to come," the boy whines. "Couldn't just tug one out?" asks Barry, but he's already manoeuvring them into position, spooning Rafe. And it's not at all the position the kook wants, would much rather be crushed beneath Barry's weight but he'll take whatever the fuck he can get at this point. The bed shifts, a cap is opened and Rafe doesn't have to turn around to know Barry's smoothing lube down his length. Maybe the dealer forgot it's been three fucking days or maybe he just doesn't care, Rafe has been opening himself up in an desperate attempt to come so he was well prepared and even if he wasn't, he'd grit his teeth because he needs this. Barry's fingers curl around a sharp hip and then his cock is nudging against the furrowed hole and then—slips down to press between Rafe's clenched thighs.

"No," says the boy sorrowfully, turning his flushed face into the mattress.

"You said you need'a come, country club," reminds Barry, thick erection sawing back and forth. The hand holding Rafe's hip moves to wrap around his steely cock, jerking in time with the thrusts between his thighs but it's not enough. It's not. Rafe knows from the first touch that while better than his own hands, it's not enough. Barry's fist is tight, just the way Rafe likes it but all he can focus on is squirming in the man's lap, praying to whatever damn god will listen that the dick dragging along the underside of his balls will accidentally slip inside.

Begging is no fucking use, Rafe realises after he pleadingly says, "Please fuck me," and Barry laughs.

"But you just wanna come, baby boy," reminds the older man. "You don't need t' be fucked, that's what you said."

"I do," Rafe corrects, squeezing his eyes closed in embarrassment.

The grip tightens and Rafe grunts in response, stomach tight and coiled with heat that just won't come undone no matter how much he tries to let it.

Barry's jerking him off at a punishing pace as the hips rocking against his ass start to move erratically. Rafe realises what's happening and feels the tears start to pool along his waterline.

"Think you just humoring me," says Barry while nipping at Rafe's earlobe, eyelashes fluttering as his cock pulsates. "Fuck, baby—"

"Please," sobs Rafe brokenly. Barry's hand is rolling over his tip, coloured an angry red and leaking blobs of precome.

Barry rushes out, "Come. Come, baby, go 'head."

But Rafe can't. He can't. Barry's cockhead pokes out from between the boys slicked thighs and then there's warm come splattering against his tight balls and fuck—

"Rafe?" Barry timidly says, thumb brushing over the kooks cheek.

Rafe realises he's sobbing and wipes violently at his face, turning towards his boyfriend and burying himself in the man's embrace.

He's still rock hard and twitching, but it's no fucking use. Barry can't get hard again right now and likely wouldn't stick his dick in Rafe anyway.

A hand cradles the back of the boy's head as Barry mumbles, "You 'aight, baby?"

The answer is a resounding no but it doesn't fucking matter. So Rafe gives a short nod where his forehead presses into the older man's throat and let's his eyes slip closed, throbbing length trapped between them.

Morning offers no relief, either. Rafe wakes alone and knows Barry is elsewhere in the house getting ready for the day and takes it upon himself to spread out on the duvet, warm lube up on his slender fingers and shove them as deep into himself as possible.

It's as awkward as it always is, but when Barry jogs into the room to get ready and finds his boy whining for cock on the bed, well—he can't help but sit on the chair in the corner and watch.

Rafe puts on a show, arching his back dramatically when his fingers curl, even though he's only brushing the spot Barry can pound into. He spreads his legs further apart so Barry can watch his hole be scissored open, lube glistening on his rim.

Blue eyes stay trained on Barry's dick, sliding through the loose ring his thumb and fingers make. The older man looks lost in his lust, groaning as he watches his boy pleasure himself.

But it's not enough. It's just not enough. Rafe moans and whines and begs but Barry stays put.

"You gonna come, baby?" he asks sweetly.

Rafe can hear the smug undertones in the question, can see the way Barry grins as he writhes in discomfort.

Every ounce of self respect oozes from the boys body when Barry's crossing the room to crawl between his parted thighs and suddenly he's babbling, "Please, shit, Barry, please."

Two rough, calloused hands hook beneath sweaty knees and push up, Rafe quickly removing his own fingers and lying exposed.

Barry hawks and spits directly on the relaxed hole before diving down to lick inside, ignoring the sudden pull of Rafe's hands in his hair, the taste of lube and something entirely Rafe sweet on his tongue.

Just as teeth graze the kooks sensitive rim, two fingers plunge deep inside of him and they both moan at the feeling, Barry acting like he's starving with the way he's greedily nipping and sucking and licking.

"Fuck me," cries Rafe, all but yanking the man up by his hair.

Barry's grin is brilliant, gold tooth on full display as he looks over his boy before being dragged down into a kiss.

"You wanna be fucked, country club?" Barry reaches between them to position himself at Rafe's entrance. Nimble fingers twist desperately into long, dark strands of hair as the boy nods, face sweaty and flushed. Barry's eyes flicker to the bedside table and he signs, dramatically and with little remorse before he says, "Shit, sorry, baby boy. Time for me t' go."

"What? No!" Rafe's legs wrap around the dealer's waist. "Just—please, I'll be fast, please—"

But Barry's already sitting back against the hold and reaching down to teasingly touch two fingers to Rafe's rim. "You want it that bad?"

"Yes," comes the boy's immediate reply, hooded eyes staring pleadingly.

"Exactly." Barry stops touching Rafe in favour of grabbing the kooks hand and dragging it to his throbbing cock. He ignores the sound of Rafe whining and says, "You want it, you don't need it."

Rafe's free hand flies to drag down his face in frustration, the other wrapped around Barry's thick length. "Barry, I need—"

"Don't wanna send me off with a stiffy, d'ya?" asks the older man, his own hand curled around Rafe's, speeding the drag up.

Rafe's blue eyes are squinted in a glare as he allows Barry to use him, his own dick bobbing against his stomach as it twitches and throbs, precome pooling on his abs.

Ropes of come splash over Rafe's abdomen and he looks wild, sweaty hair sticking up in every direction and mouth slack.

"Wish I was fillin' you up, huh?" jokes Barry with a mean grin.

Rafe doesn't even bother trying to touch himself, it won't work. So instead he turns on to his side and buries his face in the pillow.

"Awe, baby," coos Barry with an affectionate pet to blonde hair. "You gonna be okay?"

"No," snaps Rafe begrudgingly.

Rolling off the bed to begin rifling through their shared closet, Barry reminds him, "We got that thing tonight with your lil' kook friends, yeah?"

"We're not going."

"The hell we ain't," counters Barry, side-eyeing Rafe. "Last thing we need is an angry Topper comin' 'round here lecturing us about being punctual and respectful again."

That's how Rafe ended up at the country club awaiting his boyfriends appearance.

It seemed like any slight rub against his cock—trapped securely in his waistband—would set him off. Though it proved to once again be pointless, Rafe spent the entire day touching himself, never crossing the finish line, leading him to be unbelievably frustrated now.

Rafe was trying to psych himself up to fake laugh at stupid jokes and scarf down bland food when the beat-up truck pulled in amongst foreign sports cars, taking the space next to the kooks dirt bike.

The drivers side door was thrown open and feet hit the pavement and then Barry was rounding the truck bed and Rafe's breath was catching.

Rafe feels dizzy with the sudden surge of need overriding every other sense, practically salivating at the mouth.

"Look alright?" asks the older man once he's close, fixing the sleeve of his black button up shirt.

Rafe croaks, "Yeah."

"Alright, good." Wrapping an arm around Rafe's slender waist, Barry pulls them flush and presses a lingering kiss to parted lips. "You look pretty," he mumbles softly.

Rafe's throat is bone-dry and his skin feels tight, clothes too constricting on his heated body. The proximity has the boy wiggling in discomfort against Barry's hold, hard-on trapped between their bodies.

"Let's go in, baby," suggests Barry, shifting closer and making the kook whine low in his throat.

Rafe rushes out, "Please. I—Barry, no, I need to come. I can't go in—Please—"

"You wanna be late?" tuts Barry.

"I wanna be fucked," states Rafe.

Barry looks beyond his desperate boyfriend and raises a hand in greeting, Rafe craning to see Kelce bounding up the front porch steps.

"That can wait, we got places to be, country club."

By the time everyone has made their rounds and engaged in polite conversation, Rafe is convinced he's going to faint from all his pent up frustration. It's been three days—slowly creeping towards four, and he's going to explode.

They've never gone this long before, Rafe's admitted his defeat and now his mind is racing, making up all kinds of bullshit about why this is still going on.

"Do you still love me?" asks Rafe in a whisper, brows drawn.

The hand wrapped around the boy's thigh beneath the table flexes threateningly tight, causing Rafe to give a swift jerk from the sudden pain.

Rafe barely suppresses the whimper bubbling up. He's so turned on even though its indecent given their location, and Barry doesn't seem to have a clue how each touch is affecting him.

Or maybe he does, fingertips ghosting along the inseam of Rafe's slacks, so close to where the boy needs him most but so far, too.

Taking a sip of water, Barry mumbles into the glass, "Don't ask me some shit like that again."

"Why are you doing this then?" The question comes out more whiny than intended, and a little louder.

Dark eyes cut to the side and Rafe shuts up immediately, not wanting to make the situation worse but he's losing patience. How his man can go from being all over him to suddenly not wanting to touch him is insane. Baffling.

Rafe's balls are aching, sure, but so is his stupid heart. Tense and sad and full of longing.

After Topper's delivers a thank you speech that ends with a toast, dishes are brought out and Rafe eats while struggling with his feelings. What the fuck is happening? What did he do? Because he must have done something, Barry seldom gets upset in general, and never with him. All the boy knows is this can't all be over him saying he can come by himself. That's usually a very normal thing, normal people can do. Rafe used to be able to before he was fucking broken or something, so accustomed to amazing sex that jerking off feels lacklustre and boring. Mingling is Rafe's least favourite part about any social event, detesting the sound of his own fake laugh and the force behind pretending to care about dumb shit like new vacation houses. Kelce had asked Barry for his opinion on a potential car and off the two went, leaving the lonesome kook to fend for himself in the crowds. Cynthia Thornton danced around him for a few minutes boasting about the decorations, a couple guys from high school came over to reminisce about their senior prank and then Rafe had a moment of peace, until someone was bumping elbows with him. "You look as bored as I feel," a server mumbles, offering a drink which Rafe is quick to accept with an easy thanks. "You're friends with the birthday boy?" Rafe presses his lips together and forces the urge to roll his eyes away. He's not nice on good days, right now he feels like starting a fight just to crumble all his big emotions into one tiny box and let them explode. Instead, he says, "Topper. Yeah, good friends." "Well, if you maybe wanna get outta here..." the stranger trails off, nodding towards the kitchen doors. "Bunch of us usually take turns hanging outside, could use the company, y'know?" For a second all Rafe can do is stare at the odd person making such an odd suggestion. Why the fuck would a well-respected, upstanding kook from the wealthiest damn family leave his best friends birthday party to go hang out with a group of waitstaff? Rafe gets his answer when fingers brush up his forearm and he's yanking himself away like he's been burned, creased brows relaxing in realisation. Before the kook can reject the guy, Barry's voice is cutting in with, "Ain't you got somewhere you need'a be?" "Yes," the server replies, face pale and eyes skittish as he glances from Barry to Topper to Kelce. "My apologies, sir," is directed at the blonde and then he's running off, clearly embarrassed. Rafe's friends rush by him, Kelce with an encouraging good luck and Topper with a warning he's mad as fuck, bro before it's just the two of them left, staring at one another from across the short distance. The kook starts to say, "Baby—"

But Barry is already speaking. "Fuck was he sayin' to you?" "Nothing." Rafe doesn't say it to be sneaky, or to protect that random person, no--he says it because he doesn't care. Not about a nobody flirting with him and not about this conversation, because it's not the one they need to be having. "What's going on with you?" the boy asks. "Not gonna ask you again," retorts Barry. With a drawn out sigh, the kook begrudgingly recounts, "He wanted to hang out back, with like, the other waiters or whatever." "That right?" Barry's jaw ticks and Rafe takes two steps closer, reaching out to grab onto the older man's sleeve. "Well you been so desperate to get laid, bet that asshole would jump at the opportunity." The statement sets Rafe wildly off guard because Barry doesn't get jealous. Sure, he's possessive and territorial, but Rafe's never given him a reason to express jealousy over anyone. To be fair neither has Barry, though the boy certainly snaps at anybody who gets too close. Rafe doesn't understand where this hostility is coming from, an already muddled brain trying to grasp at straws. All the kook knows is: "I only need you." "No you don't," snaps Barry, voice hard but low in an attempt not to draw any unwanted attention. Rafe's nearly forgotten they're not alone. "I don't need you, Barry," says the man in a mocking tone. "That's what you said, so, whatever." It's a moment of clarity that has all the breath rushing from Rafe's lungs. He did say that. "Oh," the boy mutters sadly, arms wrapping around his boyfriend in a hug. "I didn't mean that, okay? Just got defensive over the fact that, like, it's true and I knew it." When Barry's hands finally settle on Rafe's waist, he pulls back to cradle the older man's handsome face and says directly, "I need you."

They don't do shit like this, ever.

One night Barry had leaned in close and shyly admitted I think you're really pretty and Rafe had replied do you wanna ask me out? They were both high and buzzed and tired but their attraction was mutual and out in the open.

That led to a series of dates, which led to kissing and touching but they never discussed what they were until one of Topper's surfer buddies flirted with Rafe and he blurted out I have a boyfriend! Later, when Rafe rehashed the story, Barry jokingly threatened to kill anyone who touched the kook. Only it wasn't really a joke at all—they were, without a doubt, in a relationship.

Then one weekend Ward demanded his sons presence on a work trip and Rafe had agreed on the terms the patriarch pick him up at Barry's trailer, not wanting to spend any unnecessary time apart. Barry had kissed Rafe feverishly as the sound of wheels squealing up the makeshift driveway, whispered I love you which the boy was quick to return.

They've been saying I love you ever since, but never I love you because.

"Yeah, cool," Barry says, cheeks colouring. "Need you too, obviously. Shit."

A watery laugh bubbles out of Rafe and he presses forward, kissing Barry's forehead and his cheek until landing on his mouth.

There's the sound of someone clearing their throat and both men's attention snaps to Topper, arms folded across his chest and one brow cocked. "You two are not stealing the limelight from me." Pointing an accusatory finger at his friends, Topper orders, "So whatever this is, take it outside."

Next prompt (Car Sex) is part 2.

[konaanaria13]

Sick Games

I just know this is Regulus' even though the idea was about somebody else but yeah lol

warnings: none

I silently left the school bathroom and entering the class of transfiguration as I knew it was going to be empty.

it was 12:30 and left class for feeling 'sick'.

I obviously wasn't sick but I Was way to tired to hear my teacher talk about all the different wizards to have existed..

I looked outside watching some first years try to fly, while sitting on the window frame.

"Don't you have Class?" I shot up looking at the boy in the door. it was one of the year six who I have never talked to except from that one time in second year.

"Do you not?" I ask back holding eye contact.

"History?" he asks entering the room and closing the door after himself.

I nod putting my legs down from the frame and onto the table.

"do you need something?" I ask raising an eyebrow.

"yes. you- I mean I wanted to talk to you- ahm so I've known you for a while I mean- you know my brother-" his brother graduated this year and I did know him even though he was three years older than me.

"so yeah he talked about you sometimes- Like mentioned you- so yeah I cached up to you- like I noticed you... this year I mean- this year especially. I wanted to talk to you because I started to Like you- and I wanted to be friends with you- or more? But I know you will say no to that-" my best friend had a crush on him since 5th year. I liked him since 1st.

"you know me well or something?" I interrupt him and he laugh's, even though he was in a awkward position he didn't lose much confidence.

"I know that your Friend likes me which will stop you from ever going out with me." he stepped closer to the windows watching me closely.

"I won't betrayed my friend." I simply lift my legs and put them back on the frame.

"yeah I noticed, you literally do everything for her"

"your saying it with the wrong attitude.  I do everything for her because she deserves it and because she is the most amazing person and if you haven't noticed the fact that she never asks me to do anything and  I do it for myself just as much-"

"believe me I noticed every single one of your moves-"

"my life isn't a chess game you know?"

"you don't like chess?"

"I don't like being a piece in it no."

"what if I make you the queen?"

"I can make myself the king."

"yeah but as I queen I'd worship you?"

"if you wanna be on your knees so bad I know other ways"

"tell me when and where?"

"In your dreams at 3 a.m."

"that's usually the time I dream about you so it works for me" I stayed quiet and he smirked.

"so?"

"I'm not going out with you-"

"I didn't ask yet" he stepped closer again.

"I'd be willing to be friends?" I offered and he smiled slowly licking his lips and nodding as he stepped closer.

"I hope you'll be as loyal as you are to her?" I came down from the counter sitting on the table so I could face him.

"gotta earn it" he stepped closer

"how do I do that?"

"kneel?" he laughed now being in front of me.

"its a bit soon for that don't you think?" I nodded tilting my head watching as he followed my movement.

"I want you to be my friend." he stated and I raised an eyebrow.

"i noticed."

"but you don't want to break their heart?"

"could never."

"its gonna be a fun few weeks then" he turned and quickly left the class room leaving me to gasp and wonder what the actual fuck just happened.

-k<3

[peacht44]

literally screaming for him to wake up and see me and appreciate me for everything I’ve done for us since coming back home to him after the break(up) because he is losing me, I’m getting tired of fighting. And still he is apathetic at best.

Currently in financial ruin for this “man” ama.

Idc if this isn’t want tumblr is for- I literally have lost my entire family due to my decision to come home and try to make it work with him again after what he did to me, they don’t respect me and are keeping their distance. So I have no family of my own blood (just my little fam who adopted me as their own for giving their dad another chance) and exactly 1 friend who lives on the other side of the country. I have no one and nothing currently (other than a sick ass LDR stash necklace dupe on the way 🙌🏻) so forgive my old ass for being a MySpace kid who hated fb and went offline during the tumblr era, I’m just gonna rant here when I need because NOBODY knows me here.

It’s been 8 years since I attempted last, but each and every day lead me further down that path again and my depression sinks deeper and deeper and gets darker and more unholy by the day 😪 I’m too sunny and too bubbly to feel this way god I hate feeling this way. It would be so easy too and then 🤫 all quiet, no more pain physical or metaphysical or even emotional god that would be a dream. I can’t even buy my dad a Father’s Day or birthday gift (both back to back this month) because I threw my whole paycheck on the house we share that he’s refused to pay for (or even work for like physically Have a job for) in almost 2 years.

Where tf did my self respect go?? Why can’t I be the baddie I try to uplift other women to be when they’re down? Why am such a pushover who let’s him get away with murder??

My whole life is falling apart and all I can think is that no one is coming to save me this time. All I have is me and my own back, and even I hate me. I wish so badly I could be someone else, literally ANYONE else, and so I wish even harder for the silence. That eerie quiet to be only pierced by occasional muffled wails that I let out behind my hand clamped over my mouth through gritted teeth with the vent turned as high as it can go where no one can hear me slowly lose every single part of me that made me human, or even just me.

Maybe a nice grippy sock vacation WOULD be just the ticket to getting my mental back on track. At least it would be quieter there, in my head and in my bubble. For now my only comfort are racing nightmare anxious thoughts that play on a loop every minute or every hour of every day, I can’t seem to quieter them or stop a panic attack anymore. I don’t even know how to breathe on my own any more. I am 36 and no better off than living on my own for the first time at 16 again, and all I want to do is d*e, sometimes. Or kill the pathological people pleaser I give all of my energy to being. It’s time to go scorched earth on this Mf but it still won’t make him see me, or love me; or appreciate me for being a GD DISABLED WOMAN HE HAS LET FINANCIALLY SUPPORT HIM FOR 2 YEARS NOW. It’s gaslight gate-keep and hypocrisy 24/7 on my life so maybe it’s time to girlboss my way tf out of it and ghost every living soul I know, pack up my fur babies and flee this hell hole I’ve let my life become again. This Mf couldn’t even bother TO DO A THING for my birthday this year but cry about how he couldn’t afford a gift for me. Not try to earn some cash to even go on a date, just whine about not having the funds and then having the audacity to pass out on me early and let me agonize over every single thing I’ve fucked up in my life lately by diving deep down a cold lane with him again.

Nothing feels real anymore. I don’t even feel like a person. I’m so numb yet so soft and emotional and unstably sad all of the time but all I do is avoid it. Sitting in this pain might kill me, I can’t risk that.

[sunlightswallowed]

Fucking calm down Greg it’s tumblr rp

Okay. Listen. I know this was probably meant to piss me off and give you a giggle about how It’s Not That Deep, Bro. But let me tell you a story. I don’t like bringing current events into RP space so I’m gonna try to tag this as thoroughly as possible, so people aren’t triggered or made uncomfortable. But I’m tired of being told to calm down.

I am a substitute teacher. I work in a middle school with fifth through eighth grade. I have spent the last two years dealing with Covid protocols and having to enforce them in a school district where most of the parents think the whole thing is a hoax and wearing a mask is traumatic for Little Timmy. I’ve done all this while being unable to tell anyone I know my preferred pronouns or the name I gave myself because being openly queer could lose me my job.

I have, in one school year, dealt with five students between fifth and eighth grade attempting suicide. I have dealt with one kind, sweet fifth grade girl, attempting more than once while at school. I have had a child tell me every single day that he wants to die, and all I can do is send him to the counselor. I have been hit and kicked and bruised and then been yelled at because my tone when telling Bobby not to physically hurt me was too harsh. I had a kid ask me today if it was safe to go outside for the end of the year pool party.

I have done all of that while legally blind, while trying to navigate a world that is not meant to be accessible to me, and facing mockery when I trip or need help, or being accused of faking because I have a phone and I have some vision so I can’t be Really Blind. I have constant headaches because of the strain trying to monitor 25 kids at a time puts on my one half-functional eye.

I woke up today thinking about what the hell I’m supposed to do if some monster with a gun happens to come in while I’m substituting. And I come home. To where I can relax. To where I can get on my computer and read and write and pretend I live in a kinder world where I don’t have to think about these things. And all I see is people talking about how a small box on their screen irritates them or is stupid or is a waste of time even though it’s a function that can help me access a space that feels safe for me better. And there are so many things going on in my life that I’m angry about and can’t do anything about. But I’ll be damned if I don’t at least make my voice heard on this one little thing that I Might be able to influence people on.

I’m so fucking sick of being told to calm down. Fuck you.

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here bestie with what may be our penultimate RNM song since we're apparently getting a wedding (and you're right, a bolo tie??!!). I feel like we've done this one a few times but I can't think of anything more perfect for this episode than Two, a song about carrying the weight of the one you love. We saw Michael do this physically and emotionally for Alex most of the episode, and had it beautifully turned around at the end when Michael thought he failed, Alex gave him one last push 😭😭

Going into this final season with the Echo proposal I was leery of hoping for a Malex wedding, and then with Alex being gone most of the season I was even less hopeful. But we are really getting Malex husbands! The writing may have done the absolute bare minimum to earn this, but as we have see the past 2 episode, Vlamburn are going to deliver and I’m so excited about it! (Now lets hope they don’t take a page out of KR’s book and stick the wedding in a wordless montage intermingled with other things in the last 3 minutes of the episode. (I think Vlamis would riot though. This wedding is his and he was a groomzilla for sure! 🤣 though I’m wondering how much say he had and if he approved the bolo tie?)

This song is soooo perfect for this episode and I loved after all the bungled writing all season, that we really got to see Michael fighting for Alex and helping carry him and when he gave everything and was ready to give up, that strength and hope he gave Alex all episode was gifted back to him as the final spark of inspiration. I know we talked about this song at least once before for Malex before season 3 so it’s going to be interesting to look at it now and how far they’ve come!

sweet heart, you look a little tired. when did you last eat? come in and make yourself right at home- stay as long as you need. tell me, is something wrong? if something’s wrong you can count on me. you know i’ll take my heart clean apart, if it helps yours beat.

it’s okay if you can’t find the words, let me take your coat and this weight off of your shoulders.

I love this song so much and this is hitting right in the “Alex has been missing in a pocket dimension for a week or two and probably needs some care and attention” feels. And now that Michael knows Alex is sick he’s taking extra care to make sure Alex is fed and warm and has someone to lean on. Michael has always been the “you know i’ll take my heart clean apart, if it helps yours beat” type and that really came through with his “I’m scared to death I’m gonna lose you today” line but he isn’t giving up on Alex even if it kills the both of them. Just like Caulfield, it’s better to die together than to live alone after the other is gone (hellooooo finale handprint agenda!). We also have the “let me take this weight off your shoulders” of it all with Michael helping support Alex while they’re rushing around and telling Alex not to worry about anything or anyone else because they’ve got it handled and Michael’s priority is getting Alex home safely.

like a force to be reckoned with, a mighty ocean or a gentle kiss, i will love you with every single thing i have. like a tidal wave, i’ll make a mess. or calm waters if that serves you best. i will love you without any strings attached.

Uuuuugh this chorus always gets to me! We have seen a lot of their love over the years coming out in the “tidal wave” form, making a mess of everything, but right now? Ooooh we are in the “Michael is a fucking force to be reckoned with” stages and I am loving it! We really see his duality here, being soft and gentle and calm with Alex because that’s what’s needed of him, though when he’s ready to give up and Alex tells him to make it work, we get that force to be reckoned with coming out strong and I think it’s really going to culminate tomorrow because Michael did NOT save Alex only for them to all die at the hands of some Jones knock-off, and he will not lose Alex to some alien radiation poisoning. Which leads us to the next line... 

it’s okay if you can’t catch your breath, you can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest.

*chanting* Handprint healing! Handprint healing! Handprint healing! I want to see Alex fading and Michael holding him and pushing every bit of his own life force that he can spare into Alex’s chest. I need to see it, and I need to see them both being overwhelmed by the force of what the other feels for them. Because they’ve been known now that the other loves them, but feeling viscerally exactly how much?! It’s going to change everything and there will never again be any doubt. I know there was hope that a handprint would open their eyes in their angsty days about what they were feeling because they could not communicate for anything, but I kinda love the idea of it happening now, after they HAVE communicated, and they DO know that they both love each other and some of those older wounds have started to heal, and the handprint just makes everything that last little bit clearer. 

i know exactly how the rule goes: put my mask on first. no, i don’t want to talk about myself- tell me where it hurts. i just want to build you up, build you up ’til you’re good as new and maybe one day i will get around to fixing myself too.

Man, this song is coming for my throat right now! We’ve talked a lot about Michael but boy is this hitting in the Alex “I don’t want to talk about me dying, let’s focus on you and on getting a last happy moment together” Manes feels. Before, they were both focused on pushing their own needs aside but we have seen them do so much work on themselves as well as building each other up! Bur right now I’m getting the distinct sense that, yes Alex is asking for something for himself for once, but also that he’s doing this wedding for Michael so Michael will always know how much Alex loved him in the hopes Michael won’t fall apart and blame himself when Alex is gone. BRB gotta go cry into a pillow for an hour about Alex accepting his death but making sure Michael doesn’t blame himself for it.

i don’t even know where to start, already tired of trying to recall when it all fell apart. and i just want to love you, to love you, to love you well. i just want to learn how, somehow, to be loved myself.

This part breaks me every time. These two have spent over a decade trying to figure out how to love the other the way they need and hoping that if they give enough of themselves that they might get some of that love back in return. And now, they HAVE figured it out! They know how to love each other well, and have learned to be loved themselves, but now they are on the brink of losing it all, just as they’ve found it. I can’t....

like a force to be reckoned with, a mighty ocean or a gentle kiss, i will love you without any strings attached. and what a privilege it is to love, a great honor to hold you up.

like a force to be reckoned with a mighty ocean or a gentle kiss, i will love you with every single thing i have like a tidal wave, i’ll make a mess. or calm waters if that serves you best. i will love you without any strings attached, i will love you without a single string attached.

Love is a gift. Neither of them knew before that the other was giving the love without strings attached and they each invented the strings they thought the other was putting on their gift of love leading to so much heartbreak for so long, but now they are both finally in a place to accept the gift for what it is! I have talked a lot about Michael being a force to be reckoned with, but we cannot ignore Alex in this episode being that final driving force in the end. He is actively dying a slow and painful death but when he sees that Michael isn’t giving up? When they are so close to getting home? He pulls up every ounce of hope Michael gave him, and that formidable will he’s always had, and he demands that Michael doesn’t give up. This is a time when calm waters and a gentle kiss aren’t what serves them best and Alex reminds Michael that his mind, the alien’s powers, their love is a force to be reckoned with. I don’t talk a lot about Max either, but him anchoring himself in his love for Liz, despite all the fear he has and using that as a driving force not to destroy their enemy but to rebuild something that someone else could use to save them was *chef’s kiss* and the kind of energy we’ve been missing from Max/Echo for awhile.

This was absolutely the correct song choice for this episode and I’m now drowning in feels! Hopefully the finale gives us a moment to cry about painful Malex angst, and ends (as all SaL songs tend to do) with hope and the start of a new life together. (Who else is going to go absolutely broke with the Vlambase drop?) Also, how perfect is it that the animal for this Enneagram type is a dog? Malex adopting a three-legged rescue beagle when?  

[meltotheany]

Goodreads | Amazon US | B&N | Blackwell’s | Bookshop ARC provided by the publisher via Netgalley i feel like all my friends who also loved this one, were all by my side here on goodreads, back in the early 2010s, reading all the paranormal romances known to man (or that our moms kept on their bookshelves). the nostalgia for books like riley jenson, black dagger brotherhood, kate daniels were so very felt. yet, this book completely stands on its own and is a really good book that i highly recommend. and this book had so many of my favorite paranormal romance trope sets – forbidden romance, bonded fated mates, and of course a marriage of convenience between our two main characters: ➛ misery – vampyre who has been living amongst humans her whole life, but finds herself as the key component in an alliance that will keep the peace with her people, while also having her own human inspired agenda for this forced arrangement. ➛ lowe – werewolf alpha who is still asserting his new dominance over his people, while also trying to assess who he can trust or not, while also being an amazing caretaker for his little sister. “I would take anything she chose to give me—the tiniest fraction or her entire world. I would take her for a single night knowing that I’ll lose her by morning, and I would hold on to her and never let go. I would take her healthy, or sick, or tired, or angry, or strong, and it would be my fucking privilege. I would take her problems, her gifts, her moods, her passions, her jokes, her body—I would take every last thing, if she chose to give it to me.” and they had me truly rooting for them, unable to put this book down, after the very first scene of them together. but this also has a pretty big mystery plotline that took me by surprise, and also completely enthralled me. and ultimately this had such a big emphasis on found family and finding your own pack of people you love and trust unconditionally that i feel like i just ended up loving the entire cast of side characters too. let’s just embrace the bullet points and quickly talk about other things i really loved:➛ obviously vampires and werewolves➛ arranged marriage but forbidden romance➛ one bed scene(s)➛ the cutest little sibling ever➛ the sweetest brother and sister relationship x2➛ and also a really heartwarming found family / best friend relationship⤷ It was truly giving bryce and danika but better➛ a big appreciation of peanut butter➛ an amazing epilogue that will hopefully set up a book two in this world i will say that there was a very unnecessary and annoying third act conflict that just didn’t make sense to me (and made me side eye lowe a little), but i still really enjoyed this one and it was such a fast paced read that really tugged at my heartstrings in all the found family ways. i think i just really like ali hazlewood’s stories, and i always end up connecting with them on some level, and that just enhances my reading experience each and every time. i recommend this to all my romance friends, but i extra recommend it to all my pnr friends who want a little extra nostalgia on top of a really good story. lastly, and least importantly, if i ever dated anyone named misery, i feel like i would have to send hayley williams or paramore royalties. because the way misery business was living in my head rent free while reading this was actually insane. content warnings from the author (please use caution for potential spoilers): death of several people within the context of a war between different species (vampires, werewolves, and humans) is mentioned, several mentions of blood, kidnapping, mild violence, poisoning and attempted murder, attempted kidnapping/harming of a child (she is unharmed), death of a parent (off page in the past and off page in the present), explicit and graphic sexual content, knotting (the mmc’s apparatus is not quite human?), cursing and vulgar language other trigger + content warnings i found while reading (ali’s books really do have such good tws – ...

[strwberriehore]

Sometimes I assume I can’t do something until I see someone less capable than me doing it

Like damn if you can…

Im so dehydrated if I gave a blow job id get friction blisters on the inside of my throat and probably bleed ripping the skin off. Start a damn fire it’s so dry have me looking like a dragon, am I going too far again?? I feel like the dryness in my throat gets like itchy and makes me cough and it makes my uvula dry like the gag reflex thing and I start to like feel it or something idk and I start gagging and coughing just cause I’m dehydrated

Not like I’ll live long enough where my looks will matter, if you die young enough your environment didn’t make you ugly yet

my poor skin, this is why I need a bath so I can soak like the mormans (that’s basically like like cuddling but even closer) because it’s nice to feel connected to your partner, their penis is like an umbilical cord connecting us, and we become one. i like to be very close and affectionate if I really like you, LOL why am I making jokes, maybe because I don’t care about anything anymore, except my cats. Cats are serious…

For mormans soaking is sex but for me soaking is better cuddling. Could you fall asleep like that? I wonder… why is that cute/romantic to me LOL I’d be like aww he wants to be super close to me

I’m rambling what’s wrong with me ugh how do I make a fucking joke and then immediately say how I’m ready to kill myself LOL

It helps cheer me up, give me a fucking break can I not be miserable for a few seconds? Be uncomfortable!!! Aren’t you fucking laughing?!? Aren’t I fucking funny?!? Hahaha! I have nothing to live for! Nothing matters we’re ALL going to die!

Or maybe more people need to master the art of denial when it comes to bad news. When reality is too painful I’m not sure what else you can do . Denial helps with shock and as time passes it’s easier to process

(Obviously not life or death but fuck Botox would do a lot for me right now) 

Also my ma said she still wants to force me to take pills and will watch it take it. Like biiiiiitch I will force myself to throw up every single day if I have to. Idc if the stomach acid giving me throat cancer from burning a hole in my esophagus. You can’t win. Are you willing to die to win? I am ! Feels like I’m already dead so making it real won’t make a difference. Me killing myself doesn’t feel like losing either, I can’t lose if I escape and if I die that’s the ultimate escape, 5 star resort in the back of my fucking mind, the access key for this place isn’t a card it’s a bullet. Then I’m on a permanent vacation 🤩 no fear stress worry pain or any other strong negative emotion, and no more getting hurt or attacked no more bad news, true freedom. No judgement or crying, I’m so sick and tired of crying. I mean no good things either but the only good I can think of are my cats and they have maybe hopefully 15 years left?? One is older by like 4 years.

I’d rather kill myself than lose my privacy and free will…trying to force me to take random pills? NAH

Being around my parents doesn’t do any good, they’re bad people and that’s just not going to change. A fist fight already happened. It just won’t work.

Holy shit it feels like no amount of water helps or lotion because my poor skin omg 😭 and I read your brain is more than half water so dehydration hurts it too and it makes your blood thick making blood clots much more likely

The nurse is still in me lol

Am I a hypochondriac??