#like i was super fucking scrawny a month ago

[artisanalpeanutbutter]

Important update:

I have become the douchebag who drinks protein shakes

[thruheavenandhighwater]

Pairing: Eddie Munson/ Reader

Requested By: NA

Word Count: 6,676

Summary: When Corroded Coffin finally starts to make a name for themselves, you couldn't be more proud. Your boyfriend and his best friends dreams are coming true. But that doesn't stop the ache in your chest when he has to leave for weeks to go on tour.

Stranger Things Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Based loosely on the song Carrying Your Love With Me by George Strait. I also haven't posted anything in a few weeks since I've gotten to be super critical of my own work so please be nice to me.

~~~~~

You knew this day was going to come eventually. Corroded Coffin had been slowly gaining traction for the past few years. You weren't sure when or how it happened, really. All you knew was that all of the sudden a few more people than normal started showing up to The Hideout on Tuesday nights. After a few months of steadily growing crowds management moved them to Thursdays. When they did even better on Thursdays, they were moved to Saturday nights. The "big leagues" as Eddie called their new slot.

And those boys kicked ass every single week. You loved watching them on stage. The way they controlled the crowd, pouring every ounce of themselves into their sets. They were magical to watch.

Then, eight months ago they'd been offered a contract by a small label out of Chicago. An honest to God record contract. You'd been so proud of Eddie when he told you. He was sweaty, having just gotten off stage but you hugged him tightly and kissed him deeply, hoping these would convey how you felt after words didn't seem to be enough.

You were proud of all of them. Your boys. After spending years being the only person who actually showed up to watch them, it was nice to see more people coming back week after week. You'd even started selling t-shirts for them at the back of the small dive bar after Andy had floated the idea.

Two weeks later Corroded Coffin was in a studio in Indianapolis recording their first EP. "Baby, I wish you were here," Eddie sighed into the phone when he'd called you from the hotel his first night away. "God, I miss you. And Bill snores like a goddamn chainsaw."

"You'll be back the day after tomorrow," you reminded him.

"I could just come home tonight. I can't sleep without you."

"You got gas money for all that driving?"

"No," he whined. You heard fabric rustling on the other end as he rolled over in his bed. "But… I just-"

"I miss you, too." You whispered, not trusting your voice not to break if you spoke louder. "The bed feels too big."

He laughed quietly, but it sounded forced. Faked for your benefit. "I definitely don't have that problem. Cheap fuckers only got us one room and Paul is an even worse bed hog than you, if you can believe it."

"He better not be a better cuddler," you giggled. "I'll beat his scrawny ass."

"Now, now, sweetheart, I can't have you threatening my bassist before he records his parts." You could hear the smile in his voice. "Even if he does play with my hair and call me snookums."

"Shut the fuck up, Munson!" You heard Paul on the other end. Eddie's laugh filled your ears. You felt your chest tighten at the familiar sound. You really did miss him more than you thought you would.

"Oh, come on, pookie," Eddie teased. "Don't get shy on me now just 'cause I got your competition on the phone."

"They can have you." Paul grumbled. "And newsflash, Romeo, some of us are trying to sleep."

The line was quiet for a moment, all of the joking suddenly gone. "I'm sorry, babe," Eddie sighed.

"No, he's right." You told him as a bubble of emotion grew painfully in your chest. "Get some sleep, rockstar."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"I'll call tomorrow?" He asked almost expectantly.

"I'll be waiting." You answered, already wishing it was tomorrow. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

And suddenly the line was dead. The click followed by the loud dial tone almost enough to shatter you entirely. You ended up sleeping on the couch both nights Eddie was gone. The bed was too big for just you, after all.

But the most exciting news had come just after the winter snow started to melt. It was still cold, but the occasional 35° day felt like a gift from the heavens when they happened. You were bundled up on the couch, a blanket that Uncle Wayne had gifted you for Christmas a few months before wrapped tightly around your shoulders when Eddie burst in the front door like a raging bull.

"Baby!" He squealed excitedly as he closed the door behind him. "It's happening! It's really fuckin' happening!"

"Jesus Christ!" You yelled, your hand flying to your chest as your heart threatened to beat clean through the skin. "What is happening?"

"We're goin' on tour!" He yelled, clapping his hands. "We're gonna be, like, a real fuckin' band now."

"Eddie!" You cried out as you stood from the couch, the blanket dropping lazily behind you. You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss as his hands wrapped around your waist. "I'm so fucking proud of you, baby." You told him before kissing him again. "My little rockstar."

You'd spend the next ten weeks excitedly helping Eddie and the guys prepare for tour. It was a short stint, just a few weeks as an opener on the Midwest leg of some bands world tour. But they were over the moon about the opportunity to be on a real stage. And you couldn't have been happier for them. This was their dream finally coming true right in front of your eyes.

And since it was their dream you never even thought to tell Eddie how badly you didn't want him to go. You didn't want him to be gone for 19 days and 18 nights. It was selfish and you knew that. That's why you kept your mouth shut, encouraging them and helping Eddie decide which shirts to take instead.

Now, it was just two days before he'd be leaving. The record label had rented a van for the band. It was small, but it got the job done. It had been decided that each person could only bring one bag, otherwise there would be no space for their equipment. Eddie had borrowed an old, beat up leather bag from his uncle and you were currently pulling all of his freshly washed laundry from the dryer. You folded each of his shirts as you pulled them from the dryer.

They were still warm as you held each of them in your hands. Each one carried a memory with it. The Iron Maiden shirt he'd worn on your first real date. The Metallica shirt you'd gotten him for his birthday two years ago. The KISS shirt that he had lent you to wear to bed the first night you stayed at his house, when he was still living with his uncle.

Sharp tears pricked painfully at your eyes as you held a Dio shirt to your chest. You took a deep breath to compose yourself. You didn't need to be getting tears all over his clothes. But you couldn't help it. He was going to be gone and you'd miss him. The two nights you'd had to spend on the couch were bad, but this was going to be so much worse.

"Got some new socks," Eddie suddenly called from your living room. You hadn't even heard the door open, too wrapped up in your emotions. As quickly and quietly as possible you sniffled and wiped your eyes with your hands to hide the fact that you'd been crying.

But Eddie knew you. After this many years together, it shouldn't surprise you. As soon as he rounded the corner and saw you standing in front of the dryer, he knew. He stepped towards you, setting the pack of white socks on top of the dryer behind you as he pulled you to his chest. One arm wrapped around you while he cradled your head in his other hand.

"Sshhh, baby," he cooed. His hand began to gently rub your back as he held you. You wrapped your arms around him, balling your hands into fists at the back of his shirt. "It's gonna be okay. I'm not leavin' forever."

"Long enough." You whimpered into his chest.

"I know, sweetheart." He whispered before planting a kiss on your hair. "I'm sorry."

Your heart fell to your knees. He shouldn't be sorry. You knew this was his dream when you met him. You knew it the first time you'd watched him play. This band was too good to stay in Hawkins forever. And you knew that.

"Oh, man," you said with a smile as you pulled away. "Who knew I was such a crybaby, huh?" You pulled your arms from around his torso and wiped your eyes.

"Dude, I cried in the car in front of Melvalds!" A laugh fell from your lips before you could stop fresh tears from falling. "This is gonna suck, huh?" He asked, his palm meeting your tear stained cheek.

"Sure is," you agree with a forced smile.

By the time Eddie had finished packing a few hours later, the brown leather bag sat barely half full on your bed. "So you do have room for more than one pair of jeans!" You said as you picked up a faded pair of Wranglers from the laundry basket.

"I don't need anymore jeans!" He whined from where he was leaning against your dresser.

"You only packed one pair."

"Plus the ones I'll be wearing when we leave!"

"That's gross." You told him flatly as you finished folding the jeans and tucked them into the bag.

"I'm sure we'll be able to wash our clothes," he smiled. "That's just taking up extra space."

"You better!" You said, turning to face him. "If you bring this thing home smelling like dirty balls and van nachos I'm gonna throw all of it away."

"You'd never," he teased, fake hurt written across his smiling face.

"Try me," you told him, crossing your arms over your chest.

And now you stood in you front lawn, barely holding back tears while Eddie loaded his guitar case into the back of the van. The old, beat up bag felt like a boulder as you gripped the frayed handle in both hands. He was downright giddy as he slid the sleek black case into place. You wanted to be excited for him, you really did. But all you could think about was how much you'd miss him.

"Oh, honey," he whispered as he pulled the bag from your hands, handing it off to Bill to put into the van. "C'mere, sweet thing."

He pulled you to his chest. It was almost too tight, but you didn't care. You wanted to be as close to him as possible before he was three states away. It surprised both of you that you were able to contain your tears while you stood there. You knew the guys were watching you, probably going to make fun of Eddie for being so soft after they pulled away. But that didn't matter. All that mattered was commiting Eddie to memory as fully as possible.

"I'll call tonight?" He whispered into your hair.

"When?"

"Probably after we play," he sighed. "Don't know if I'll have time before."

"Yeah," you sniffled into his shirt.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

He pulled away from you slightly, his arms still around your shoulders as he looked down to you. He kissed you, sweet and hard, like he needed your lips on his to live. And you loved it. Knowing that he hated this moment as much as you did made you feel just a bit less selfish about it. He broke the kiss, smiling at you before his lips were suddenly on your forehead. You heard him inhale deeply through his nose as his hand found the back of your head, pressing his lips even deeper into the kiss.

"Be good," he whispered when his lips left your skin.

"No," you sniffled, smiling at him.

He giggled, high pitched but almost sad as he finally pulled his hands away from you. Shaking his head he took a few small, cautious steps away from you.

"Eddie, dude!" Andy called from the driver side window. "We gotta goooo!" He yelled, drawing out the last word. Eddie rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed that Andy didn't seem to understand how difficult this was for the two of you. He leaned forward, his hand catching your arm as his lips fell to your cheek.

And then he was gone. You waved, plastering a fake grin across your face as you watched the van drive down the street. You already missed him. You finally let your tears fall once you watched the van turn a corner and it finally felt real. He was really gone.

The bed was too big again as you tucked yourself into the blankets. The blankets that smelled like cigarettes and cheap soap. Like Eddie. You grabbed his pillow without thinking, holding it desperately to your chest as you cried silently. He was still in city limits, but your heart missed him like he was on the moon.

When you woke up a few hours later your head hurt and the bed felt cold. You sighed as you placed Eddie's pillow back in its spot next to yours.

You walked into the living room, checking the time on a clock on the wall. Quarter to three. It would be hours before Eddie would be able to call you. You decided to make yourself busy while you waited so that your brain wouldn't eat itself alive with worry.

You suddenly hated how clean you kept the house. By the time you'd done the dishes, folded the laundry, cleaned the kitchen, and vacuumed the entire house it was barely 5 o'clock. Still a few more hours until you'd hear from Eddie.

You wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and bunkered down on the couch after putting some mind numbing tv show on. You weren't watching it. You just needed the noise. Something to occupy the part in your brain that wanted to just cry and cry until Eddie was back in your arms.

The sudden, shrill ring of the phone woke you from where you'd started to fall asleep on the couch. You jumped up, the blanket forgotten in your path as you ran to the phone.

"Hello?" You answered eagerly. You held the phone so tightly in your hands that your fingers almost hurt.

"Hey, sweetheart," His voice was angelic in your ears. You almost started crying on the spot, so happy to hear it. You let out a breath you felt like you'd been holding all day. Leaning against the counter, you felt your shoulders relax for the first time since he drove away.

"Hi, baby," you sighed. "How was the show?"

"Fuckin' incredible." He sounded so happy that it made you feel guilty for how badly you wanted him to come home. "There was so many people. Probably more than when we saw Sabbath last summer in Indy. And seeing all those people from the stage was trippy." He laughed.

"I'm so damn proud of you," you told him. And you meant it. Even if you missed him so bad it made your head hurt, you were proud of him.

"Thanks, babe. I can't wait for you to see us up there."

"18 days," you told him, a pang in your chest. "I miss you already."

"Miss you, too." He admitted, his voice quieting. "D'ya see my present?"

"What present?"

"I left it on the dresser!" He told you excitedly. "It's nothing, really, just-" you didn't hear the rest of his sentence. You'd set the phone down and jogged down the hallway to your bedroom. When you reached the dresser you didn't see anything at first. Your perfume, a few lighters, some tapes stacked in the corner. But then you saw it and your heart swelled in your chest. His necklace. His guitar pick necklace.

He'd made it from the pick he used the first night you saw Corroded Coffin play at The Hideout, using a safety pin that he'd heated over the flame of his zippo to poke a hole in the thin plastic. He told you it was special, a good luck charm. He claimed it was this magic little pick that had brought you to the show, and definitely not his incessant nagging for a week prior. He'd never taken it off in all these years. But here it sat on top of your dresser.

You smiled as you walked back to the phone, clasping the simple chain around your neck as you walked. The chain was longer than you'd normally wear, the pick coming to rest in the middle of your chest.

"-ello? Hello? You there?" Eddie sounded worried when you picked up the phone from the counter.

"I'm here," you smiled into the phone, your hand tightly wrapped around the necklace. "But what are you gonna do without your good luck charm?"

He chuckled, a sound you could listen to forever. "Don't you worry, sweetheart. I got something even better."

"What?"

"I'll tell ya when I see ya in Indy."

"18 days," you repeated.

"18 days."

You hung up shortly after that, Eddie saying that Bill was finally out of the shower and he was not gonna miss his turn at the hot water. After hanging up the phone you felt much better than you had all day. Eddie promised to call every night after his set, which put your mind at ease knowing that he never broke a promise. He'd also made dramatic kissy noises into the phone, which pulled a real honest to God laugh from you. Even miles and miles away the boy knew how to cheer you up.

It was five days into his absence when the very bad, super crappy day happened. First, you burned yourself on the coffee pot. Then you couldn't find the one specific shirt you wanted to wear to work. Searching for it made you late to work. The sandwich you'd gotten from the deli for lunch was wrong. And finally, you'd stepped in a mud puddle on your way into your house and one of your white work sneakers was now stained and soaking wet.

You needed Eddie's call that night more than ever. You looked forward to it from the moment you stepped inside from work even though you knew you had a few hours to wait. You just needed to hear his voice. You needed him to call you babe in that way that he does and tell you that he loves you. You just needed him.

The phone rang while you were cleaning up from dinner. You slammed the refrigerator door closed, not even finishing putting the Tupperware bowls in it.

"Eddie?" You asked.

"The one and only," he giggled. You could see the smirk on his face. You missed that smirk.

"Today has been, like, the worst day ever." You sighed.

"What happened?"

And you told him everything. Unloading all of your issues from the day into him while he just listened, occasionally making affirming noises from the other end of the phone. "And now I've got my shoe soaking in the sink hoping it magically turns white again."

"Could always dip the other shoe in the mud puddle." Eddie suggested.

"God, it's a good thing you're pretty, Munson." You laughed. You truly appreciated how easily he could turn your mood around. He was special. Almost magical in his ability to save even the worst days.

"There ya are," he said sweetly. "Missed that laugh today."

"I need a hug," you sighed. "And a drink, but mostly a hug."

"Promise I'll hug ya extra tight in Indy."

"14 days." You said quietly, looking at the calendar that hung in the kitchen. As soon as Eddie found out that the Indianapolis show would be the last one Corroded Coffin would play it was circled in every color pen the two of you could find.

You couldn't help but count the days. You counted hours, really. Hours until Eddie would call. Hours until 2 pm on the 19th. Hours until you could see your favorite person again.

"Two weeks," Eddie said suddenly, pulling your attention. "I can't decide which sounds worse. 14 days or two weeks."

"They both suck," you chuckled.

"You're going to bed soon, yeah?" He asked.

"Gonna shower when we hang up, then try to sleep." You answered. "Same as every night. Why?"

"Because when you go to sleep it'll be basically tomorrow and then it will only be 13 days."

"Ever the optimist," you smiled. You really did appreciate that he was trying to help. It wasn't his fault that you'd had a bad day. But your heart yearned for him, and the fact that he wasn't within arms reach was unbearable.

You talked for a bit longer. Eddie told you all about the night's show, even though it was exactly the same as every other night. But you didn't mind. You'd listen to him read the white pages in pig latin if it meant keeping him in the phone for just a few extra moments.

When you yawned into the phone he suddenly halted his story. "Bed time?" He asked.

"Not yet," you yawned again.

"Sweetheart, you're fallin' asleep on me here," he giggled.

"Not yet," you repeated. "I'm not ready to say goodbye yet." Your voice caught in your throat as tears suddenly threatened to fall.

"Okay, baby," he said. "Not yet."

You insisted that he finish his story. It ended the same as it always did. But you just needed to hear him. Hear his voice. His sighs, his chuckles, his soft whispers. You needed to hear him.

When he ended his story with the same line as always, "It was fuckin' incredible, baby." You begged for another tour story. Any story. But the yawn that interrupted your pleading gave you away.

"You're gonna hate yourself tomorrow if you don't get some sleep," he told you, gently but his voice was serious.

"I'm not ready," you whined.

"I know," he sighed. "How about I call tomorrow morning? Before you go to work?"

"You can do that?" You asked, maybe a bit too loudly.

He laughed and you felt your heart jump. "Course I can. We don't do anything all day until it's time for soundcheck."

"I would love that."

"Then I'll call in the morning. But right now you need sleep."

"Okay," you finally agreed. "I love you."

"I love you, too. More than I could ever say."

There was a pause. It was your turn. He always made you say it first. This had to be your choice.

"Goodnight, Eddie."

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

There was just a moment of silence before you heard the familiar and heartbreaking click. Then the deafening dial tone. And he was gone.

You and Eddie quickly settled into a new routine. Morning phone calls before work, evening phone calls after his show. On the days that you didn't work you kept him on the phone for hours. You didn't even talk sometimes, just hearing him breathing brought a bit of normalcy to your life. It was nice. It was exactly what you needed. The extra calls made the days move by just a little quicker.

It was still agonizing having to sleep in your bed alone. He was insistent that eventually you'd get used to it. He joked that you'd make him sleep on the couch when he got back. But every night he wasn't there felt like an eternity. You even began to miss the way he'd aggressively grab your thighs when you were trying to sleep, tickling you just to annoy you. 11 nights in you decided that you'd never push his hand away again, no matter how much it tickled.

Finally, mercifully, the day came. Today was the day you were going to Indianapolis to see the show. Today was the day you'd get Eddie back.

During your morning phone call both of you were antsy and excited. Your eagerness was almost debilitating, causing you to nearly drop one of your favorite coffee mugs and knock over a stack of tapes in the bedroom as you danced around excitedly. But you didn't care about any of that. Today, instead of counting hours to phone calls, you were counting hours until you were back in his arms.

"God damn, I'm so ready for tonight," His voice was high pitched, almost giddy as you two made your plan for the evening.

You would drive to Indianapolis and he would meet you at the box office. His badge could get you in for free. Once there you'd hang out with him backstage until Corroded Coffin played. You hadn't decided yet if you wanted to stay for the rest of the show or head out immediately to the hotel after their set. "Let's play it by ear," he said.

You'd booked a room at a hotel. You made sure to get a completely different hotel from the one the rest of the band would be staying in. You wanted Eddie all to yourself tonight.

As you drove to the city you couldn't stop smiling. Your cheeks actually started to ache the closer you got. But you didn't mind at all. Aching cheeks was a lot better than an aching heart, or an aching head from crying too hard. This was a pain you could handle. A pain you almost liked, because it meant that all of your waiting was over.

You parked at the venue and all but ran to the box office. True to his word as always Eddie was standing inside the small building talking to the person taking tickets.

"This one's mine," he told the older lady behind the glass. You began to cry as you watched him open the door and walk outside. His arms were spread wide and you wasted no time burying your face into his chest. His familiar scent was intoxicating as you breathed him in deeply.

"I missed you," you said through tears. "I didn't know it was possible to miss someone this much."

His hands held you so tight to his chest that you wondered if it were possible for two people to actually become one. One hand tangled itself into your hair, holding your head in that soft, strong way he does. His other arm wrapped around your shoulders. All you could feel in that moment was Eddie. It was perfect.

He pulled away from you just enough to look down at you. His brown eyes sparkled like gems under the summer sun. His cheeks, sprinkled with dark brown stubble, dimpled as he smiled at you.

"Missed ya, babe," he whispered.

It was so nice to hear his voice again. Sure, you heard him on your phone calls. But this was different. You felt his chest rise and fall as you clung to him. You felt his breath against your hair as he pulled you to him. His lips on your temple, soft and strong. You finally felt whole again.

The two of you stood outside the box office for probably far too long. But you couldn't help it. You'd missed him so much that separating from this embrace for even a moment felt undoable. Eddie didn't seem to mind. He kept his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair while you reacquainted yourself with his presence.

It was only when other cars started showing up in the parking lot that Eddie suggested you go inside. You agreed, squeezing him tightly one last time. His arm stayed around your shoulders, now loosely draping around your neck as he turned to stand beside you. You both smiled at woman in the box office, Eddie flashing his badge as you walked through the turnstile.

"I'm so excited to see you guys play again," you told him as he led you through the front door of the venue.

"The Hideout got nothing on these stages, babe" he laughed. "You gonna be in the crowd or in the wings?"

"Not sure. Which is better?" You asked, reaching up to link your fingers with his that hung over your shoulder.

"Crowd, definitely." He answered. "You can even get right up front and center."

"Finally keeping you around for all these years is paying off." You teased.

He smiled, a chuckle falling from his lips just before his lips touched gently to your temple again. "'Bout damn time I'm good for something, huh?"

When you reached Corroded Coffin's dressing room you were immediately torn from beneath Eddie's arm by Paul.

"God, I'm glad you're here." He said, pulling you into a hug. "Your boyfriend's fuckin' annoying. How do you sleep in the same bed with him every night? You deserve a fuckin' medal."

"Right!?" You said dramatically, grabbing his shoulders as you pulled away from him just a bit. "Did he make you be the big spoon too?"

"No," Eddie laughed behind you. "I let Paul be the big spoon. He practically begged me."

"Can you take him home now?" Paul asked with a smile. "We really don't even need him for the show."

You laughed as you turned back to Eddie. He was trying to force a dramatic pout to his lips, but he just couldn't do it. His lips curled high onto his cheeks with a bright smile.

Bill and Andy greeted you with hugs, too. You missed all of them more than you had realized. It felt so right to be in a tiny dressing room with the guys.

You spent the next few hours on Eddie's lap on one of the faded black couches in the back room. Even though you'd heard all of their stories already you loved hearing them again. They were all so excited to tell you everything. You suspected that they had missed you just as much as you missed them.

A few minutes before the doors opened for the show you and Eddie made your exit from the group. He led you through hallways to a metal door and pushed it open. Suddenly it was just you and him in the middle of the large room. You walked hand in hand to the front center of the barricade. Eddie's hands held both of yours, his thumbs rubbing the backs of your hands softly.

"Ready to get your face rocked off?" He asked.

"Oh, hell yeah," you answered, pulling one hand from his. You tucked your ring and middle fingers under your thumb, leaving your pointer finger and pinky extended. Sticking your tongue out, baring your teeth, you brought your hand to your face.

"Goddamn it, you're so fucking cute." He gushed, bringing both his hands to your cheeks. Just as his lips crashed to yours you heard the loud noise of the venue doors opening. People started to file in, excitedly talking amongst themselves as they walked toward you. Eddie sighed before kissing your forehead softly. "I'm gonna have security pull you after our set, yeah?" He asked. You nodded silently, smiling to him before he removed his hands from your face and turned to walk away.

The guys were amazing. Eddie was right when he said that the shows you'd seen at The Hideout were nothing compared to this. They had actual lighting and a much better sound system than The Hideout could ever even hope to have. And the extra bodies in the crowd seemed to spur the band on, even if they weren't necessarily there to see them.

At more than one point in the show you caught each of the members watching you in the crowd. You were the only person that was screaming their lyrics back to them, so you were easy to find. Eddie had his big solo during the second to last song of the set. He always shined during his solo, but he was on fire tonight. As he hit the high final note of his solo he stretched his guitar out over the crowd, pulling a loud round of applause from you and everyone around you. He didn't seem to notice, his eyes firmly on you as he grinned down to you. Before he walked back to his microphone to the left of the stage he threw one hand up, two fingers extended and his tongue out just like you'd done earlier. You laughed, throwing your head back and bringing your hands to your chest.

Their set ended and the four men gathered at the front of the stage. They all took a quick bow, Andy raising his drumsticks in the air before they left stage in a single file. Eddie pointed at you and winked as he followed Bill across the stage.

A few moments later a large, tattooed security guard was walking toward you. When he reached you you leaned over the barricade, his lips just inches from your ear. He said your name, his voice lifting at the end in question. When you nodded he put his hands out to you. His hands went under your armpits while you braced yourself by placing your hands over his shoulders. You were impressed with how easily he lifted you over the barricade. Once you were on the other side he put his hand on your back, between your shoulder blades as he walked you towards the door you'd come through earlier.

Eddie was waiting on the other side, his million watt smile pasted to his face. As the door closed behind you he wrapped his arms around your thighs and lifted you off the ground. You wrapped your legs around his hips, your hands holding tightly to his shoulders as he spun the two of you in a circle.

You kissed him deeply as he held you. Your back hit a wall suddenly as Eddie kissed you back. "What'd ya think?" He asked breathlessly when he broke the kiss.

"You're a rockstar, baby." You beamed. "I'm so fucking proud of you." He kissed you once more before releasing his grip on your thighs, allowing your feet to hit the floor. "Can we leave? Or you gotta stay the whole time?"

"We can leave," he answered as he linked his fingers with yours. "Gotta help pack up first."

As soon as the heavy back door of the venue closed behind you Eddie pulled his cigarettes from the front pocket of his jeans. You watched as he placed one between his pillowy lips and lit it. He allowed the lit cigarette to dangle from his lips as he bent over to help Bill lift an amp into the back of the van.

It didn't take long for the guys to load up all their gear. Clearly the weeks of practice had paid off. Eddie left his heavy black guitar case propped against the side of the van, insisting he take it with him rather than trust his best friends with it. Once everything was loaded up he bid farewell to the guys as he grabbed the guitar case and his uncle's old leather bag.

"Ready?" He asked. There was no need for the question and he knew that, as he didn't even wait for your answer before leading you away from the rest of his band.

"Born ready, my love." You answered, falling into step beside him.

When you checked in at the hotel Eddie demanded he take a shower before he would touch you. "Trust me, this is for your benefit, sweetheart." He giggled as he closed the bathroom door behind him.

His leather bag was set next to the door. It was half zipped from where he'd sloppily pulled out a clean pair of boxers and a pair of black sweatpants. You barely glanced at it, not really paying it any mind. Until a flash of bright color caught your eye against the black of his clothes.

You stood from the bed and picked up the bag, placing it on a table. You slowly unzipped the bag. Your eyes grew wide as the item that had caught your eye came into view. It was your shirt. The shirt from the very bad super crappy day that you'd torn your house apart trying to find.

You pulled the shirt free from the bag. The bright, colorful stripes that ran across the chest so familiar. You had so many questions running through your mind as you held it. You heard the running water cut off, followed shortly by the bathroom door opening behind you.

"Feels good to be clean," Eddie giggled as you turned on your heels to face him. You still held the shirt in both hands, your eyebrows furrowed. Your lips parted to speak, but you lost your words. You didn't even know where to start.

Eddie's face bore the same look it had the night the two of you had gotten caught getting high at Starcourt when you were in highschool. He reached one hand toward you, his mouth opening as if to offer an explanation. Instead he simply shrugged as a sheepish smile came across his lips.

"Why do you have my shirt?" You finally asked.

"I took it." He answered plainly.

"You took it?"

"Yeah," he shrugged again. He took a few steps away from the bathroom, steam following him as he walked to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I've been looking for this for two weeks!" You cried as you shook the shirt in his direction.

"I didn't know that was the shirt!" He defended.

"Why'd you take it!" You weren't mad, though the volume of your voice might suggest otherwise. "This is one of my favorite shirts, Eddie!"

"That's why I took it!"

You sighed. Your hand that held your shirt fell to your side while the other ran through your hair. "You took my favorite shirt… Because it's my favorite shirt?" You asked as you pinched the bridge of your nose. "That doesn't make sense."

You opened your eyes to look at him when a chuckle fell from his smiling lips. "Made sense in the moment, babe," he said. "I just wanted to have a piece of you with me. I had it on my amp on stage every night. It's my new good luck charm."

Your demeanor softed at his confession. You knew that he'd missed you, but only now were you beginning to understand how much. You sat down beside him on the bed and reached one hand up to cup his cheek in your palm. His persona of confidence and control melted away as you slowly moved your hand to rake your fingernails through the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Missed you, rockstar," you whispered.

Eddie closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. "You have no idea how much I missed you," he mumbled. You gently pulled him towards you, your lips touching his softly. The kiss was sweet, but needy as he opened his mouth, his tongue trailing your bottom lip lightly.

You moved to lie on your back, Eddie following to hover above you. His lips never left yours while he held his weight on his forearms on either side of your head.

"So glad you're here, babe," he mumbled into your neck before he began peppering wet, desperate open mouthed kisses to your jaw and neck.

"Me, too," you sighed. "Wish we were home, though."

He pulled away from you, lusty smirk on his lips. "There's no fuckin' way I can wait till tomorrow." He growled.

"Do you have any idea how many people have probably done it in this bed?" You asked with a giggle.

"Oh, no, sweetheart," he breathed, bring his lips to the curve of your ear. "I promise you this bed has never seen anything like this." You shivered beneath him as his hot breath fanned over your skin.

"Promise?"

You felt his smile against the goosebumps on your neck. His teeth grazed lightly against your collar bone.

"Promise," he answered, his voice muffled against your skin. "Gonna show ya how much I've missed you, darling."

~~~~~

I wrote this in August and have been sitting on it since. Idk if it's good or not, as I'm not a god judge. Like I said, I've become extremely critical of my own work over the last year. Either way, I hope you all enjoyed this!! I know I had fun writing this last year 🥰 Feedback is always appreciated!!

[glitchydyke]

HIIII MJ USE THIS ASK TO TALK ABT SAW IF YOU WANT🎤🎤🎤 !!!!!!!!!!!!!

HI JINX HI JINX whoa that’s like the word hijinks. crazy

okay so i know ur not like. gonna watch saw but. heads up for super heavy spoilers for the first movie ofc

OKAY SO. saw is abt gore and torture yes yes whatever but oh my god it’s also abt life and death and the fragile mortality of humans and the fact you should appreciate your life while you still have it because there is so much beauty in the world that you deserve to see and the fact that nobody is ever too broken to be fixed and you are always worthy of redemption and. christ

i’ve watched the first 3 movies so far and my favourite is the first one bc. ADAM. GRIPS YOU. FUCKING ADAM. he’s this scrawny photographer who doesn’t really appreciate his life and makes a living being hired to stalk ppl and take photos of them <33 hes suchhh a weirdgirl like that

so he wakes up chained to the pipe in a shitty derelict bathroom. also sopping wet. like hes literally a wet cat i cannot stress this enough. soggy man. and on the other side of the room, another man is chained to a pipe in the same way he is, and in the middle of the room is a dead body just chillin <3 the other guy introduces himself as dr lawrence gordon and also hes gay but we’ll get to that later

SO they both understandably panic (lawrence less so bc hes been awake for longer and has already done the screaming for help thing) until they eventually begin actually talking to each other and trying to figure things out. they find a tape in each of their pockets and manage to reach a tape player from the dead guy in the middle of the room. they play the tapes and are both introduced to their game: lawrence has to kill adam by 6, and adam has to escape without um. dying

lawrence’s tape also said follow your heart in a whisper after the main message, and they follow this clue to a toilet with a heart drawn on it and find two hacksaws in the toilet lid. for a while they try to cut through their chains, but it doesn’t work and adam ends up breaking his saw :( lawrence then realises the saws are meant to be used to cut off their feet, not cut through their chains

they uh. do not want to do this ofc so they start talking to each other, and across the movies they find out a few things about each other. lawrence’s wife and daughter are being held hostage as motivation for him to kill, lawrence was accused of being the jigsaw killer a few months ago, and adam was hired by a former detective to follow adam and take pictures of him. adam also reveals he found some of his pictures along w the hacksaws, and recognises one of them as one he didn’t take - a photo of a man standing by the window in lawrence’s house.

they start to figure out who’s put them there and what’s happened, and eventually there’s call from the man holding lawrence’s family hostage that ends in gunshots. lawrence uh. freaks out and upon hearing his family in genuine danger he takes his saw and. gets rid of his foot <3 he then crawls over to the dead body, takes a gun from it, and shoots adam. the man holding lawrence’s family hostage (zep) then walks in and prepares to kill him since he didn’t technically win the game since it was after 6 by the time he killed adam. shit gets real fucked and THEN adam turns out to not b dead bc hes a real one like that and he beats zep to death w a toilet lid until lawrence crawls over to him and stops him

and they then have. the gayest fucking scene. they’re lying on the bathroom floor, scared and cold and covered in blood, and they fucking grip each other like they’re each other’s lifelines. lawrence holds adam’s face, adam grasps lawrence’s shirt, their faces are pressed against each other, and they’re so fucking close and desperate and they’re the only thing in the world to each other at that moment and it drives me INSANE. i can’t even describe it enough it’s genuinely cinematic history i promise you. i need you to look at this oh my god

lawrence then says he has to go get help or else he’s gonna bleed out, and crawls away while adam reaches for him, tells him to stay, begging for him not to leave him. lawrence promises to bring someone back, and leaves the room. adam tries to find a key to his chain on zep’s body, but only finds a tape player - and when he plays it, he finds that zep was also only a part of this game, not the mastermind of it. and then the body in the middle of the room moves. the jigsaw killer, the man who kidnapped them and tortured them was with them all along.

he tells adam the key to the chain was in the bathtub he woke up in, and it went down the drain when adam accidentally pulled the plug when he woke up - meaning adam was always given a way out, but lost it before he even knew he has it. adam tries to shoot him, but he’s electrocuted and the man heads towards the door. the lights turn out, adam reaches out desperately, screaming and terrified and frantic, so close to escape. the man looks at him. says game over. the door closes. adam is left to die, and the credits roll as his screaming fades away.

AND IT DRIVES ME FUCKING INSANE. adam won his game. do you fucking understand. he won. he was meant to stay alive until six, and he did. he was left to die because of a single mistake, because he lost a key he didn’t even know he had. he watches as the person he’s been closest to and furthest away from maims himself in a desperate act of survival. he clings to lawrence as their blood mixes between them. he screams and cries and begs to not be left alone. he learns the person who orchestrated everything was right beside him the whole time. he spends days in that bathroom, chained and cold and alone and in the dark, waiting desperately for lawrence to come back. waiting to be saved. just fucking waiting. do you think he had hope? even when hours passed? when a day passed? as he squinted through the darkness at the clock on the wall and realised hes lost count of the hours? knowing lawrence went out in a labyrinth of walls and pipes, bleeding and missing a limb, not knowing where to go? knowing that his only chance of survival could be dead on the floor right down the hallway? hoping desperately that the man he’s come to love so much managed to get out. hoping someone, anyone, will please fucking come back for him?

and then days later, someone does. an apprentice, a follower of jigsaw, feeling bad for him and wanting to help. and her help comes in the form of a plastic bag over his head, blood in his mouth, and all oxygen leaving him. she says she’s freeing him. he’s never felt more trapped.

lawrence’s task was to kill adam. adam’s task was to live.

and somewhere, lawrence survives.

and in the bathroom, adam dies.

[sweetbbyshion]

banner by @chaoticwh0re

Season 1 Next Episode

Episode 1 -> Sex, Love or Money

This season's singles meet and plan a steamy retreat. Meanwhile, our high-tech hostess is getting ready to deliver some bombshell news.

12 hours until the sex ban

Hostess: In less than twelve hours our horny singles will be hit with a no-sex sucker punch. Thankfully, I don't have to break the news, as this luxury no-bone zone comes fully equipped with its own virtual guide - Lana! Its purpose is to lead the guests to making deeper and more meaningful connections without the physical aspect of it.

For the first twelve hours, Lana will be watching and analyzing our guests and will be secretly gathering personal data before laying down the sex ban.

Let's meet our oblivious singles and let the show begin.

You

Age: 23 years old Occupation: Fashion designer Last relationship: “Four months ago. He broke up with me because his job was more important than me and he just didn't have the time for me.” Her type: “I don't even know. Probably tall men with tattoos that look like gangsters.”

Haitani Ran

Age: 26 years old Occupation: “I’m rich and that's all that matters” Last relationship: “Can't even remember but my last hookup was like 10 minutes ago.” His type: “Big boobs.”

Haitani Rindou

Age: 25 years old Occupation: “My brother told me to say I’m rich and that's all that matters.” Last relationship: “Never had one. It was something that didn't interest me.” His type: “I like tall women. If they're taller than me, that's hot.”

Hanma Shuji

Age: 24 years old Occupation: Stripper Last relationship: “A couple of months ago. She cheated on me with one of my coworkers.” His type: “Love a big ass but I’ll fuck anyone who wants to fuck me.”

Sano Emma

Age: 22 years old Occupation: Influencer/Model Last relationship: “Never been in one! I guess I just haven't found the right one for me.” Her type: “I love tall men with tattoos! Absolutely my favorite. But as long as they're nice and sweet, I don't mind the appearance.”

Madarame Shion

Age: 25 years old Occupation: Tattoo artist and piercer Last relationship: “4 years ago. She dumped me because I pierced a girl’s pussy and she got super jealous.” His type: “ANYONE! I just love women so much. They're all so pretty and hot.”

Shiba Yuzuha

Age: 23 years old Occupation: “I’m my little brother's manager.” Last relationship: “Months ago with an ugly guy that cheated on me.” Her type: “I don't care about physical attributes but I really want someone who's sweet, caring and doesn't mind that sometimes I have to stay away for a couple of weeks because of work.”

Ryuguji Ken (Draken)

Age: 23 years old Occupation: bike shop owner Last relationship: “A couple of months ago with a girl that broke up with me because she fell in love with my coworker.” His type: “I usually go for blondes.”

Tachibana Hinata

Age: 22 years old Occupation: Influencer and a cosmetic brand owner Last relationship: “Oh God! It was months ago. He didn't like the attention my fame brought to him.” Her type: “Ah~ I like them skinny and scrawny. Just complete losers.”

Suzuki Mina

Age: 24 years old Occupation: Bartender Last relationship: “Never had one. I'm not the one to commit.” Her type: “Big, strong men who can manhandle me. I don't settle for less.”

Kokonoi Hajime

Age: 23 years old Occupation: Accountant Last relationship: "A long time ago." His type: "Don't have one"

In 23 years of your life, you never thought you would join a random reality show where you had to party and bond with hot people for a whole summer because your boyfriend dumped you. You didn't think much about it, simply joining the show to show your ex that you were just fine without him. You weren't. One night stands were now part of your life. A different person to fuck you every week with no strings attached. You just couldn't let yourself form meaningful connections with anyone after that relationship. People would leave no matter how much you care for them. So you didn't think twice before jumping on this opportunity. You get to spend the whole summer having casual hookups with no feelings involved and no time to think about how heartbroken you're feeling even though the breakup was four months ago. You wouldn't allow yourself to stop and think about it.

The presentations were a bit awkward, as expected. No one knew what to say, simply introducing themselves and mostly asking to be called by their first name. Emma and Hinata did most of the talking, trying to ease the tension on the way to the place everyone was going to stay at. Soon enough, the nerves went away and you felt like you had known them for more than a couple of minutes. The conversation was flowing, you already liked the girls and you couldn't deny that you wouldn't mind fucking every men here. Still, you promised yourself that you wouldn't do anything on TV… on the first night. You don't know how long it will take until you disappoint your mom but Hanma Shuji and Haitani Ran caught your attention right away. They're handsome and are just your type. Luckily you caught Hanma’s attention just as much while the older Haitani seemed more interested in Mina. You didn't mind, there was plenty of time to make your move on him and you were sure none of them came to this show to fall in love. It was still the first day after all and there was no need to rush.

The room was huge, full of big beds. If you counted correctly, there was one for each but you wouldn't mind sharing one with someone. It was obvious that eventually more people would join to stir up the drama. That's what the viewers want.

You sit on one of the comfy beds, your back against the headboard. You look around the room and your eyes stop on a weird lava lamp that you were sure you have seen around the villa but paid no mind. It was probably some decoration item. Hinata, Yuzuha, Kokonoi and Hanma sat in beds close to you, the rest of the people nowhere to be seen.

“Anyone you wanna share a bed with?” Hinata asks, looking around the room , murmuring numbers as she counts the beds.

Kokonoi is the first to deny, saying he will fight anyone who tries to get in bed with him. Yuzuha says she doesn't mind sharing with one of the girls if needed since none of the guys caught her attention. Hinata happily calls dibs on Yuzuha if new people ever join and you need to share beds.

“I wouldn't mind sharing with Y/N.” Hanma Shuji, that sneaky bastard, says, eyeing you from the bed next to yours.

You move a bit to the side and pat the place next to you. Hanma almost jumps into the bed, eager to be next to you. He’s closer to you than needed, your shoulders touching. He smells like a deep earthy musk, a faint smell of cigarettes mixed with it. It's good, it's intoxicating, and you can't help but move closer until the point where your senses are overfilled with his smell. The others become background noise while you're looking at the man sitting beside you. His hand tattoos caught your attention, making you grab one of his hands to look at it better. Your finger traces the kanji tattooed on his left hand and Hanma simply watches you, entranced by your actions.

“Sin and…” you grab the other hand. “...punishment?”

“Yeah. Pretty cool, right?”

You look at him, getting your face a little closer to his to whisper “Yeah, it's hot.”.

“Trying to make me pop a boner when we just met?”

“Is it working?”

Hanma doesn't reply and simply grabs a pillow to put on his lap. You don't know if you're glad or not that other people are in the room, preventing you from jumping on top of this man and devouring him. Perhaps you could forget about that rule you set to yourself about not sleeping with anyone on the first night.

Your lewd thoughts about the man next to you are interrupted when Shion enters the room to announce you're having a welcome party. You get up and wait for Hanma by the bed, watching everyone excitedly leaving the room. Before you can walk out of the door, a big hand grabs your wrist making you turn around. Your mind froze when you feel Hanma kissing you. It's surprisingly soft and slow and it doesn't take long for you to close your eyes and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. Unfortunately, the kiss didn't last long and you try to chase his lips as soon as he moves away. He smirks, amused by your neediness and pulls you to meet the others.

Shion is doing some weird dance moves when you get outside and you can see Emma already talking to Draken in a corner. Hinata and Yuzuha are dancing together. Well, Hinata is dancing and trying to make Yuzuha move by swinging her arms.

Ran is the one who suggests a game. One person has to be blindfolded and the others can touch, kiss, or whatever they feel like. The blindfolded person has to guess who touched them. There's no winner and certainly no rules. You excitedly grab the blindfold and Mina helps you tie it in the back of your head. You only hear laughs and then lips on yours. The already familiar scent gives away who it is and you make the most of it, not wanting him to pull away too soon again. His hand goes down to grab your ass, pulling you closer to him and the whistles in the background bring you back to earth and you pull away for air. You say Hanma's name and big hands help you take off the blindfold and fix your hair. His pretty face is staring at you and you can't help but pull him to another kiss.

People kept taking turns, some being more bold than others. When Ran’s turn arrived, Mina pulled you with her and signaled for a kiss. You did your best trying to have a threeway kiss. Ran’s hands are holding yours and Mina’s waist and he bites your lower lip before moving to bite Mina’s. You use your thumb to clean the drool on his lips and he guesses right. You don't even sit since it's Hanma’s turn and excitedly walk to him, you kiss his neck, biting it softly but not enough to give him a hickey. Your hand goes down his chest, feeling the muscle and stopping just where his shorts start. His hand cups your face to pull you for a kiss, his tongue promptly exploring your mouth. A ding in the background catches your attention and you move away from Hanma to look at your new friends. You both sit down and the hostess appears, her smile making you a bit uneasy.

“Hello everyone! How’s everyone doing tonight? Enjoying the party?” A chorus of yes is heard. “That's good! Tonight, we have a special guest.”

A big box is brought to the center. Everyone seems excited but you can't help but get the feeling that something wrong is going to happen. The lights go down and Hinata’s excited voice can be heard, asking who it might be. The suspense is killing you, your leg bouncing a bit. Smoke starts coming out of the box and then a platform goes up, revealing the weird lava lamp that is placed all over the villa. It lights up and another ding is heard.

“Hello. I’m Lana.” the device says. “Your personal, digital assistant. Welcome to the retreat.” You look at Hanma, a bit confused about the talking cone. He looks as confused as you. “You may be in paradise but the party is over.”

“What does that mean?!” Emma’s voice is heard from the other side of the couch.

“The purpose of this retreat is to help you gain deeper and more emotional connections.”

Your jaw drops. Suddenly, all the idiotic questions about your sex and dating life made sense. The way they tried to get every single bit of what happened with your break up masking it with curiosity.

“This is bullshit.” Hanma murmurs beside you.

“For the last twelve hours, I have been watching you and learning about your behavior. You have been selected as you are all having meaningless flings over genuine relationships.”

“That's a lie!” Hinata says.

“If it was a lie I don't think you would have been selected, hun.” Yuzuha replies.

“As part of your social development, I have allocated a price of ¥30,000,000.”

The gasp you let out is almost involuntary. It's a great prize but you feel like there's a but coming and you don't like what you have been hearing so far.

“Are they going to keep the two of us close in a closet until we develop a meaningful connection or something?” Rindou comments.

“However…”

“There it is.” you laugh.

“I will deduct money from the prize fund if there are breaches to the rules. There is no kissing, no heavy petting, no sex and no self-gratification.”

“Wait, wait, wait, what's that?” Shion asks, a genuine confused look on his face.

“You can't masturbate.”

You let your head fall on your hands, thinking about how stupid you could be that you got yourself into this type of reality show. Hanma sighs next to you, falling back on the couch and laughing, even though you can tell it's fake.

“Well. We’re fucked.”

Taglist: @crybabylisa @chaoticwh0re @minoozi @benkeibear @ranszn

Fic Taglist: @megumi-divine @tsukkishitstain @gojoscumslut @leoncito1503 @zuuki @thesadvampire @michiru-kail @getousblog @thatsophanu @q-the-rockaholic @chuusussss @smurfflynn

[clefairymuke]

regrets | chapter nine

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairings: levi ackerman x reader

themes: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut

tw: violence / explicit sexual content

word count: 2006

When you woke up, the sky was so dim you almost would've said it was still night. The softest of light poured into the room and lit the shelves, the sheets, and the outline of Levi's face elegantly. Your vision danced around the room a bit, still dazed. Your hair surrounded you in a mess of tangles. Your eyes grew heavier the more you forced them open. Sleep still partially blinded you, leaving the room a bit fuzzy-looking -- but you could tell he was still awake. "Levi?" you croaked out softly, your voice still dressed in fatigue. "How long have I been asleep?" You tried to lift your head, but the pillow pulled it gently back down.

"Not long enough. A few hours," he replied quietly, as you noticed a teapot and cup on the table next to the both of you, still fuzzy -- maybe blue? Your eyes tried to flutter back shut, but you held them open a bit longer.

"I don't sleep much," you told him, your consciousness half gone. "I have nightmares." You let your eyes shut this time, still listening for his reply.

"You haven't seemed to have them tonight," he answered. You heard the teacup clink against the pot, then the sound of him sipping it slowly.

"No, not tonight. Not sure why." With that, you began to drift, his words molding into your dreamworld until you were entirely submerged.

---

Hange squealed with joy as you took another step, one hand holding on to Jean's shoulder and the other on Connie's. "You'll be back in training within two weeks, tops! You've healed excellently!"

You stopped for a split second, your grip tightening a bit on your friends' shoulders as you processed what she just said. "Two more weeks? I thought I just finished the two weeks. I'm supposed to be fine now." You groaned, leaning on Jean a bit.

"Two weeks to heal. We can't have you back in combat training tomorrow. That would be absurd," Hange said innocently, excitement still dripping from their voice. "But this is progress! If we keep doing this kind of thing everyday you'll be just fine. You'll be walking on your own in a week!" Connie ruffled your hair a bit, and you tried to shake it back into place.

"Can I sit down now?" you asked, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice. You used your friends for support until you could plop defeatedly into one of the chairs against the wall. The two of them sat next to you, Jean's arm propped up behind your back and Connie's behind his head. You ran one hand through your hair, smoothing it from Connie's abuse, while the other gripped the arm of the wooden chair. "Can I at least sleep in my own bed?" you requested, smiling halfheartedly at Hange.

They frowned a bit, like they felt bad. "I don't think that would be wise. Were there an accident, it would be dangerous for it to happen when no one was in the barracks. It's best if you stay there; it won't be too much longer." You let your head fall back onto Jean's arm and let out a deep sigh.

After a while longer, Jean carried you back to your infirmary room, complaining about your weight for at least eight minutes of the ten-minute walk. The sky was orange and pink as the sun began its trek downward; it was beautiful, but it reminded you of the dark and lonely night ahead. Two more weeks felt like years.

As he laid you down, you huffed. "I have one hell of a bone to pick with you, Jean Kirstein. I should have let the titan eat your scrawny ass," you told him, smacking his arm lightly. "I take care of the damsel in distress, and I get a broken leg out of it. It's fucked up."

He snorted, a grin running across his lips. "Yeah, I hear you." He rubbed the side of your shoulder gently. "You need me to stay tonight, or are you okay?"

"I'm good, Jean. Levi actually stayed with me last night," you said, yawning. You were confused when his eyebrows fell together and his mouth drew up in disgust.

"Is this an Eren situation? With Captain Levi? That's so gross. He's, like, old." You watched him hold back laughter.

You gagged jokingly, utterly confused on how he came to that conclusion. "Dude, no. What the fuck? He just helped me get to the bathroom. Don't be weird." You almost started to laugh with him. "And I don't even think he's much older than us, dumbass."

"Seriously, though, spending the night with Captain Levi? You can't expect me to believe nothing's going on there. Since when does he --"

"Since when do I what, Kirstein?" Levi's voice came from the doorway, a teacup and pot in either of his hands. "Do you always come up with such repulsive theories, or is this a joke?" With his voice unchanging, you were unsure of if he was joking or genuinely angry. When it's Levi, it's often safer to assume anger.

"I was just kidding, sir," Jean replied, small laughs still hidden behind his tongue. "But I was wondering -- since when are you infirmary security?" You chuckled under your breath, putting your arms under your head and getting comfortable. Jean's hand still rested on your shoulder.

"Since I found her alone last night on her ass in the hallway, literally dragging herself to the restroom. It was an embarrassing show." You frowned, imagining how you must've looked in front of him. Jean looked back at you mockingly, eyes wide and a smile covering his face. You groaned as you watched Jean improvise a replay of the event in his head, a chuckle bubbling up from his throat. "I carried her the rest of the way and back, and when we got here, I elected to stay with her since no one else was for her safety. It would be inconvenient for her leg to be injured again." Levi started inside, getting his tea set up on the table dividing the bed and the wooden chair. "I don't really sleep, anyway. I have nothing better to do."

"I would've stayed, if you didn't kick me out," Jean said to you, the corners of his lips pulling down minutely.

"You can't sleep in a chair every night for a month. You'll be in here with a bad back in no time," you replied. He nodded, his lips creeping back up into a grin.

"Get to sleep, okay? Lots to do tomorrow." He leaned down and kissed your forehead before turning and walking towards the door.

"Night, Jean. See you tomorrow," you called as you saw him shut the door behind him. you looked over at Levi, pouring a fresh cup of tea. "You're here early tonight." You watched him pick up the cup by the rim and swirl it around a bit before lifting it to his pursed lips.

"Moving my things from my suite last night was a pain. I preferred to just have a seat and not have to run any errands. I thought Jean wasn't your boyfriend? Your social life is a bit confusing, you know," he sipped from his cup again, holding eye contact with you and intently waiting for your answer. When you laughed, one of his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, Jean definitely isn't my boyfriend. We're just close. If you keep making assumptions like that, you'll have to run me to the bathroom so I can puke." You watched one corner of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. Was this his version of a laugh? "And it was super fucked up to use the word "repulsive," you know. I plan to tell my therapist that you impacted my self esteem." You didn't see a change in his strange little micro-smile. It felt nice to see some expression in his face.

"I guess I wouldn't use the word repulsive," he told you. "I'm trying to think of a better word -- disgusting?"

"Fuck off," you snorted, giggling.

Levi wasn't the most talkative person you knew by any means, but you managed to get a bit more conversation out of him before you drifted slowly off to sleep.

Again, you weren't met with nightmares. Nor were you the two nights that followed, as long as he sat quietly at your bedside. On the fifth night, you noticed a second teacup in his hand as he entered the room. It was a small gesture, but it made you smile. Levi had moved the table so it sat directly between the two of you. He sat across from you as he poured the tea, careful not to spill a drop. You sipped it lightly, finally having enough strength to sit straight up in your bed without any pain. The two of you chatted briefly before returning to the comfortable silence you had started to grow accustomed to. These nights with Levi were strange, of course, but they were also peaceful. Loneliness was your worst enemy, especially as you stared at the ceiling in the dark infirmary room by yourself all those nights. He, at the very least, curbed that terrible feeling.

You lifted the cup to your lips yet again and frowned as you looked down to find it empty. "I'm all out," you said, reaching for the pot. He had the same thought, and your hands brushed momentarily as your eyes met. You pulled back, somewhat quickly, and allowed him to pour you another.

"You aren't nearly as insufferable as you were a few weeks ago," he commented bluntly as he set the pot back on the table. You chuckled, growing used to his dryness, causing that small upturn of one corner of his lip to return.

"Neither are you, Levi. Still insufferable, but not nearly so," you replied, leaning forward and resting your chin on one of your hands.

"I still don't appreciate your disrespect," he said. You rolled your eyes half-heartedly.

"It would be weird to call you Captain while we're having tea. You can be casual once in a while, you know." You grinned into the teacup as you saw him raise an eyebrow. You knew it didn't warrant a reply.

Back to the silence. The two of you sat there quietly for a bit, finishing your tea. You started to begin the process of turning to lay down and get comfortable, but Levi's calm voice interrupted you. "You were half asleep the other night; I'm not sure if you remember. You told me you usually have nightmares, and you don't sleep much."

You shrugged, nodding your head. "Yeah, that's true. It's been that way for a few years now. You're right though, I don't remember." You felt a bit of blood retreat to your cheeks, embarrassment flooding you.

"You also said you didn't have them that first night, and you've slept well each night I've been here. They must not be too bad," he said, his voice almost hinting at inquisitive.

You furrowed your brow, recounting the dreams of the previous four nights. "No, no, they're usually awful. I wake up in the night pretty often, if I can get to sleep in the first place. It's strange, I haven't had any since you started sitting with me." You thought about that for a moment, then smiled. "Maybe they're afraid of humanity's strongest," you teased, a yawn erupting from your lips.

You watched his little grin again. "Perhaps they are."

You turned over and burrowed under the thin blanket that adorned you. You nuzzled your head tightly into your pillow and allowed your eyes to shut, breathing out in comfort. You opened one eye ever so slightly, seeing Levi looking at you absentmindedly. His teacup hung gracefully from his fingers. He took a sip from it before setting it down quietly, then pushed the table back into its place.

"Goodnight, Levi," you said, not expecting an answer. You shut your eye again and started to feel yourself drift. As everything faded to black, you heard him reply.

"Goodnight."

[reidgraygubler]

not just a ghost hunter (raymond wadsworth/reader)

Title: Not Just A Ghost Hunter

Request: no

Pairing: Raymond/Gender-Neutral!Reader

Category: Fluff/Angst

Content Warning: seance, talks of demons and ghosts, swearing, bloody nose, mentions of dying and death, use of a Oujia board, mentions of the death of a parent

Word Count: 4,194

Summary: A ghost is haunting Reader’s home, so they get in contact with a close-by Ghost Hunter, Raymond Wadsworth. 

A/N: the final day of my 7days7fics!!! I had a lot of fun writing these this could be read as platonic, could be read as romantic, depends on how you want to read it :). Also I'm sorry if there’s ANY inaccuracies with this one, I just went off the knowledge that I knew… which is basically from buzzfeed unsolved… not a super trustworthy source… anyways… and lastly, my sister read this and she said she got spooked at some parts, so just… proceed with caution. thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

My house isn’t haunted. It can’t be haunted. Right? I mean, all my life I’ve lived in houses that were normal. I’ve never lived in a haunted house. And if they were, I’m sure I’d remember that. Though, I did have an imaginary friend when I was a kid, and now that I think about it, I don’t think it was imaginary.

So, if my house isn’t haunted, can someone tell me why my reflection wasn’t my reflection… And was instead the face of a little girl…? She was pale and translucent and looked… lost. 

She looked lost until she jumped at me, causing me to fall back in my chair.

“What the fuck!” I jumped off the ground and looked back at the mirror. The little girl was gone now, and I was left staring at my own reflection. It was like nothing happened. Everything was… normal. 

I was quick as I finished getting ready for the day, trying hard to ignore anything… out of the ordinary. But it felt so hard when the room went from comfortable temperature to freezing cold. A shiver went down my spine, causing me to squeal.  

My house seriously can’t be haunted…. I just moved in! Maybe that was why the house was for sale. The previous owners were sick and tired of a creepy little girl wreaking havoc in their lives. Aren’t realtors supposed to disclose whether a house is haunted or not? Or was that just a myth?

I did what any other sane person would do: I ignored my problems and hoped they would go away on their own. That’s the right thing to do, right? I mean, I’ve done it before and those issues went away. 

It was hard. At first, it was the lights flickering on and off, then came the clattering from the attic, then I would find the chairs in weird spots or pulled out from the table… And then what it was… was waking up with scratches on my arms, legs, and torso. That was what got me worried and scared. 

I decided to stop being a normal and sane person. I couldn’t live like that anymore. So, I called someone. I was half expecting them to laugh at me and hang up. But, instead, they were very understanding. 

“Ghost Hunting and Psychic Medium,” a woman spoke cooly into the phone. I pulled the blanket tighter around my body as I looked around my home.

“Yeah... Hey, hi, I was just wondering how much your services are?” my voice was soft as I spoke. It was hardly a whisper. I wasn’t afraid that the ghosts could hear me. I was… Yeah, no, I was afraid the ghost could hear me. 

“Well, that depends on what you’re looking for. If your house is haunted and you need help putting the ghost to rest. Or, if you want to reach out to a loved one…” she continued, her voice droning on as she talked. I wondered if she actually liked her job. 

“Uh… I think my house… is haunted.” I wrinkled my nose as I looked at the coffee table, watching as a magazine dragged off the edge of the table by seemingly nothing. “I definitely think my house is haunted,” I nodded and spoke quickly.

“Do you know by what?” 

“What? What the fuck does that even mean?” 

“What kind of spirit is it? Like, is it a poltergeist, because if it’s that we don’t do that. Is it a normal spirit? A ghost? Do you know what type of spirit? And have you seen any orbs?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I just… I don’t know! I need help. That’s all. I just need help.” I spoke quickly, “The fucking magazine just fell off the table! I woke up with scratches on my body from nowhere! I just need help." 

“I’ll send Raymond to your place, right away. What’s your name and address?” she asked, her tone suddenly calming as she spoke. I took a deep breath before giving her my address. “He’ll be over when he’s done with this client.” 

“Thank you.”

“Oh! Real quick! Do you have any pets? Cats, dogs…?”

“No?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to not think about how weird of a question it was, “Is… Is that important?”

“Mmm, a little bit. Raymond will ask you more questions when he gets there. But, I can tell that you need our help with the urgency in your voice.” 

“Thanks, I… I think…” I furrowed my eyebrows as my eyes shifted across the room. 

“He should be over soon!” 

“Thanks, again,”  I swallowed roughly before hanging up the call. I held my phone in a tight grip as I stared at the front door, waiting for the bell to ring or there to be a knock with the knocker. 

‘Stupid old house,’ I thought to myself as I slowly nodded off.

However I wasn’t asleep for very long because 20 minutes later, there was a knock on the door, causing me to jump awake and fall to the ground. 

“Coming!” I shouted, pulling the blanket tighter around my body as I shuffled to the front door. 

When I unlocked the door and pulled it open, I was met with a tall, scrawny-looking guy who looked nothing like a ghost hunter or psychic or medium. He just looked like a normal-looking dude. 

“Are you…?” he asked my name, looking at me with a friendly smile on his lips. I stared at him and nodded, forgetting that I gave his secretary my name earlier. “Perfect! Nice meeting you, I’m Raymond Wadsworth,” he stuck a hand out with his introduction.

“It’s… It’s nice meeting you too,” I stared at him before stepping to the side, “Thanks for helping me, by the way. I just moved in and I swear my house isn’t haunted,” I lied as he entered my home. My lie was foiled as a loud clatter followed by a bang came from up the stairs. “That’s the cat,” I lied, again, although I wasn’t sure why I was lying to begin with. I’m the one who called for help. I think my nervousness is making me lie. I’m pretending that I don’t need help when I really do need it; it was just a defense mechanism. 

“You said you didn’t have a cat,” Raymond looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. I swallowed roughly before shrugging.

“I… I don’t,” I widened my eyes before stepping into my house a bit more. “Roommate?” I glanced over my shoulder and at Raymond. He didn’t seem too convinced by my lie. And to be honest, neither was I. “I thought I lived by myself,”

“When did you say this house was built?” he asked, looking around at the old crown molding before looking down at the original hardwood floors that creaked with every step.

“Uh… 1901… I think. I don’t remember. I just know it’s very old.” I stepped so I was beside him, making the floor creak with my step. Raymond jumped slightly at the sound, forcing me to hold back my snicker. 

“People definitely died in this house then.” Swallowing roughly, he looked towards the staircase. Another clattering came from somewhere upstairs, causing me to jump behind him. It wasn’t like that’d do much help, honestly. I mean, standing behind a ghost hunter… while we’re both looking for ghosts… doesn’t really make sense. 

“Sorry,” I looked over at him as I felt the terror grow in my stomach, “I can’t move out either… I just moved here two months ago…” I spoke as I gave him the tour of my haunted house. I really wished I didn’t move into a haunted house. 

“You definitely do have some angry spirits here,” he looked around my home. I froze as we walked through a cold spot. “Dining room?” he looked over at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded before taking the lead back to the dining room. 

“Do you need anything? Like, uh, water? I don’t know. I’ve never thought I needed to do this before,” I looked up at him as he placed his bag on the table.

“Do you have any offerings to give the spirit?” Raymond asked as I sat across from at the table. I looked at him as my hands folded on the tabletop. 

“Uh… Er… An offering? I thought you were the ghost hunter here! Not me!” I watched as he set up a Ouija board and candles. 

“Not a ghost hunter,” he looked up from the candles as he lit them. I furrowed my eyebrows before standing back up. “Do you have anything?” he didn’t exactly clarify what sort of offering I would need. So, I went in blind.

“Yeah, yeah, let me… Let me check,” I tapped my fingers on the table before walking away. I slowly walked back to the kitchen, my phone flashlight safely guiding the way in the dark, spooky halls and rooms of my home.

“Stupid offering,” I scoffed, rummaging through the cabinets for something, anything that would work as some sort of “offering” for this stupid ass ghost. 

It was near impossible to find anything for this ghost. Granted, my food situation was a little on the lower side, seeing as I needed to grocery shop. Maybe this dumb thing would like.…

“Rice Krispies!” I exclaimed as I spotted the blue boxed cereal treat. I grabbed a few Rice Krispies before running back to the dining  room. But, before I made it, I seemingly tripped over nothing. 

“Fuck!” I shouted, landing hard face-first into the floor. My hand found its way to my nose, feeling blood trickling down my lips. “Shit, shit shit,” I muttered as I scrambled to my feet. 

“Did you find something?” Raymond looked back at me. I smiled, ignoring the blood coming from my nose, as I held up the 3 Rice Krispie treats I had. “What happened to your nose?” his shoulders dropped and worry took over his face as he looked at me.

“Oh! Uh, I tripped over the rug,” I lied, looking at him as I approached the table. I have one rug in the whole house, and it’s in the dining room. It was obvious that I had lied. He’s picked up on my lies covering for my fears.“I have… I have Rice Krispies! Will these work?” I looked down at the snack before placing them on the table.

“No-Well, yeah, they’ll work,” he shook his head as he picked up the treats. I nodded before rushing back to the kitchen, grabbing paper towels to hold to my nose. I returned to the dining room to find Raymond sitting at the table. The candles he had set up on either side of the Ouija board were lit, and the lights were turned off. 

“Do you do this with your girlfriend?” I laughed, looking at him as I slowly approached the table. Raymond looked up from his book and right at me. 

“I… I don’t have a girlfriend,” he furrowed his eyebrows. I swallowed roughly before sitting across from him. “Now, we have to summon the spirit,” he looked at me, watching as I nervously tugged my finger tips. 

“You… You want to summon the spirit… H-here? Are you sure that’s a good idea,” I could feel my body shaking with fear with his words. I was already dreading this. But I knew something had to happen because I couldn’t live in a haunted house. Something had to go, and it wasn’t going to be me. 

“We need to figure out why it’s here, where it came from, what it wants, and how to get it to leave.” Raymond looked at me as he placed his hands, face up, on the table. I stared at them for a moment before carefully resting my fingertips in his hands. 

“Are… Are you sure you need me for this? I could wait outside if you don’t really need me,” I stared at him. The way the small flames glowed off his face only mildly scared me. The intensity of his eyes told me I should stay here. “Okay, I’ll stay,” I whispered. 

Raymond started talking, bringing the ghost to the dining room with us instead of where it lived upstairs. I jumped out of my skin the second a loud bang came from my room. Raymond looked back at me, his grip around my hands tightening slightly. I couldn't tell if he was doing it to keep me still, or he was doing it to reassure me. I hoped for the latter. 

“Everything will be okay. I’m scared too,” he whispered as he looked at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded. 

“Don’t you do this for a living? And you’re scared?” 

“Everytime I do this, I’m scared. Because, if it’s a vengeful spirit… I’m fucked. I just started this business with my partner last year. I’m in no way equipped to deal with a vengeful spirit or poltergeist. I just do pissed off ghosts who need help crossing over.” The way he spoke was almost sad. I couldn't exactly put my tongue on it, but there was a certain sadness in his words. “They get a little lost and get stuck in the homes of their former lives.”

“That’s… That's really sad actually,” I whispered, looking down at the Ouija board in front of me. “Don’t make me feel bad for ghosts. This thing has been tormenting me since I’ve moved here.” I looked back at Raymond and scolded. He only smiled and shrugged.

“Ready?” he asked as he removed his hands from mine and placed them on the planchette. I swallowed roughly, resting my fingers opposite his. “Are you here?” his voice was low as he looked down at the tiny window on the board. 

I watched as the planchette moved across the board, slowly moving towards ‘Yes’. My heart was in my throat as I stared at the yes. I had to convince myself that this was real, and it wasn’t just Raymond messing with me. I mean, this whole thing could be a total scam and this guy I invited over is a total scam artist. 

“Can you tell us your name?” Raymond asked, causing me to look up at him. He had a crease in his brow as he looked down at the board. 

I looked back down at the board as my hands were moving with the planchette. It moved between letters, giving us the name Marjorie. 

“That… that’s the name of the little girl I dream about,” I looked up at Raymond. He looked back at me with a raised eyebrow. “I only have dreams about every so often, like once a week.” 

“She must be trying to get a message to you,” he looked back down at the board.

“Hello Marjorie, I’m Raymond,” he introduced himself to the spirit that was with us. “Can you tell us how old you are, Marjorie?”

My eyes dropped back down to the board, watching the planchette move to the number 1 twice. 

“She was 11 when she died,” I whispered, staring at where our hands sat. My heart slowed as I stared. Swallowing roughly, I looked back up at him. “She’s just lost…” I blinked as my eyes began welling up. 

“We’re here to help her,” Raymond reminded me. I nodded, feeling as a tear rolled down my cheek. “Marjorie, are you lost? Do you need help finding your way home?” 

I was too distracted to see the answer. And the reason why I was distracted was because there was a laughter of a little girl coming from behind me. 

“R-raymond,” my voice shook as my body froze. Raymond slowly looked up from the board and right behind me. “Please tell me you heard that too,”

“I need you to stay very still,” he whispered before he stood up. I watched as he walked beside me and knelt to the ground. “You must be Marjorie,” he looked behind me as he spoke. 

“C-can I move?” I asked, swallowing roughly. And, before he even got the chance to answer, the candles were blown out and the room got very cold. 

“Fuck,” Raymond muttered as he stood up straight. I looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Fuck as in “fuck she’s gone for good” or Fuck as in “Fuck she's fucking gone”? Because I don’t like the way you said that,” 

“The latter,” he paused when more clatter came from upstairs. I swallowed roughly before turning in my chair to look at the stairs. “She must’ve gone up there. I’m willing to bet her bedroom is your current room,” he looked down at me. 

“I-I’m guessing you want us to… go up there?” I stared at him. He dropped his head before nodding. I looked back at the table, looking at the Ouija board.

“I’m never sleeping ever again,” I muttered as I stood.

“It’ll be that way for a long time. But then someday you’ll have the best rest of your life, and you won’t even realize it,” he looked down at me. “Trust me, I speak from experience.” 

“I mean, I suppose I have to trust you. I’m paying for you to get rid of this ghost… Which I feel bad about now… Now that I know it’s a little girl,” I sighed as I slumped my shoulders.

“C’mon, we should go see if she’s up there,” Raymond nodded, taking the lead from me and brought us towards the stairs. And just as we made it to the top of the stairs, his hand brushed with mine. I looked over at him with wide eyes. “You don’t have to hold my hand… I’m not that scared,” I laughed as his fingers interlocked with mine. 

“I don’t know how to tell you this…” his voice was low, and he audibly swallowed. 

“Tell me what?” I shivered as a cool shock went down my spine.

“I’m… I’m not holding your hand,” he looked over at me as he slowly lifted his hands. Swallowing roughly, I very slowly looked down at the space between Raymond and I. The ghostly figure of Marjorie standing between us, her hand encased with mine. 

“Fuck!” Raymond and I both screamed at the same time before we both ran towards my bedroom. I slammed the door shut before locking it and pressing my back to it.

“Offering!” Raymond looked at me with wide eyes. I stared at him, feeling my heart jump to my throat from the fear. 

“I-I gave you something,” I stuttered over my words as I vaguely gestured towards the kitchen. 

“Do you have, like, something important to you?” he placed his hands on my shoulders. I swallowed roughly as I looked around my room. A tattered stuffed rabbit sat on my bed. It was something I’ve had since I was little. My dad had given it to me for my 11th birthday. It was the last birthday I had with him before he died. “Something that isn’t a lunch snack.”

“Why do you need something important?” whispering as I asked. My eyes went back to him.

“Marjorie is lost. She’s a disturbed spirit in your home and she needs help crossing over. Giving her something of great importance will help her cross over,” he explained as he kept his eyes on me. I swallowed roughly before nodding.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll have to look." I stepped away from him as I went deeper into my room. 

“Okay, I need… a mirror,” he turned as he watched me look in my closet. I turned to look at him, my eyebrows raising in confusion. 

“A mirror?” 

 “I need to leave a simple message for her to figure out what she wants or needs. She can give us a message to help us… help her,” he looked over at the mirror by my dresser. My raised eyebrows slowly became furrowed the longer I stared at him. 

“A message?” 

“That’s what I said,” he looked over at me as he went up to the mirror. “Stay here, keep looking for that offering. I’ll be right back,” he pointed at me before exiting my room. 

I was going to have to  pretend that I didn’t have anything of great importance. I wasn’t willing to give up that stuffed rabbit. Not now, not ever. Marjorie was going to have to want something else.  Or she was going to have to become like Casper the Friendly Ghost if she was going to stay here longer. 

The door opened and closed with a soft slam.

“Hey, I have… this,” I held up a book that I got a few years ago from an old friend. It had no real importance to me anymore, but what Raymond and Marjorie won’t know won’t hurt them…. 

I turned around to show Raymond the object, my eyes looking at the cover of the book. When I looked up, I didn’t see Raymond. It was Marjorie that I saw. 

“H-hi Marjorie,” I whispered, lowering the book. She stared at me as she slowly lifted her finger, pointing right at me. “R-Raymond!” I shouted, taking a step back. Marjorie copied my step, except she moved closer to me. “Raymond!” I shouted again, this time a little bit louder. 

Raymond came crashing into the bedroom, looking at me with panic on his face. 

“Oh, I-I see,” he caught himself before he could crash into me or Marjorie. He looked between me and the ghost as he slowly walked towards us. Marjorie’s head turned, her body staying put, to face Raymond before screaming and vanishing. 

“Something tells me this book won’t work,” I lifted the book back up and looked at it. I wrinkled my nose as I looked back at Raymond. He was looking at me, watching me carefully. 

“Do you have anything else? Something more important to you, maybe?” Raymond stepped up to me, his arm extending out to take the book from me. I looked at the book before looking over at the stuffed rabbit. 

“Y-yeah, I do…” I sighed deeply, my shoulders slumping as I walked over to the rabbit. I picked it up and looked down at it. “It’ll be gone forever if I give it to her,” I pushed the ears back before resting my hand on its stomach.

Raymond looked at me, a certain sorrow on his face. “It’s the only way,” he whispered softly. I looked up at him and sighed deeply. 

“How do you know?” 

“When I went down stairs… On the bathroom mirror, she had written stuffed animal,” he stepped up to me, looking down at the rabbit in my hand, “She must’ve left hers behind… and she can’t leave without it,” 

“I…” I stopped, cutting myself off with a deep sigh, “I guess… I guess if it’ll help her, she can… she can have it,” I swallowed roughly and looked back up at Raymond. 

“I’m sorry it has to be this way.” 

I shrugged before looking at the rabbit. “She can have it,” my voice cracked. I wiped my cheek on my shoulder and shook my head. 

“Come on, the quicker we give this to Marjorie, the quicker you can have your home back,” he looked at me with sad eyes. I looked up at him and nodded. Raymond took the lead back down to the dining room, his set up with the ouija board cleaned up and my room was back to normal. 

“Do I just-” I stopped talking when the little girl appeared beside Raymond and I. I looked down at her, watching as she was looking between me and the tattered bear in my hands. 

“She’s waiting for you,” Raymond nodded at the bear. I swallowed roughly before lowering to the ground. 

“H-hi Marjorie,” I smiled at her before holding up the rabbit, “This… This rabbit is super important to me… You take care of him… O-okay?” I held the rabbit closer to her and blinked. 

Marjorie looked at me and nodded lightly before grabbing the rabbit from my hands. I smiled softly as she cuddled the rabbit before vanishing on last time. With a deep sigh, I stood up and looked at Raymond.

“Thank you so much for your services, Raymond,” I smiled sadly at him and nodded, “I’ll uh… You’ll send me a bill?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Raymond smiled and shook his head. “Happy to help you get rid of your problem,” he spoke as he collected his belongings. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, really… It’s no problem,” he held his bag over his shoulder, “Hope you finally get a good night’s rest,” he smiled before leaving. I smiled, standing alone in the dark dining room. It took me a long time before I finally moved to get ready for bed. But, when I did get to bed, it was the best night of sleep I’ve had in a very long time.

And, when I woke up the next morning, sitting at the foot of my bed was the rabbit I had given Marjorie the night before.

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

[leisurelypanda]

Imagine pre-serum Steve visiting his local pool to learn how to swim properly and get his strength up, trying to avoid getting too distracted by the gorgeous blonde musclegod who serves as lifeguard. One day, the lifeguard approaches Steve as he's catching his breath, introducing himself as Thor and offering to help with his lessons. He's a friend of the owner, he explains, and can get Steve in after closing so that he won't have to deal with the crowds. Steve agrees and returns the next evening, his heart racing when he sees Thor waiting for him in the water, muscles bulging and glistening, wearing a tight red speedo that leaves little to the imagination. He's profoundly grateful that he has the lessons to channel his pent-up desire into, the two of them becoming friends as the weeks pass and Steve gets better and better.

One evening, they're making great progress, with Steve breaking his record on the number of lengths he can swim. He's resting with his arms folded on the side of the pool, out of breath, but glowing with pride and adrenaline, when he feels Thor come up behind him, arms braced on the pool's edge to box Steve in. He feels Thor's cock, hard as a rock and so thick and long, pressing against his ass through the thin layers of fabric. His heart in his mouth, Steve slowly turns his head back to meet Thor's hungry gaze as his hands move, one tilting Steve's chin up for a searing kiss as the other pushes down into his shorts to start stroking his cock.

Mmmm yes, this is lovely! I love the idea of Thor being super proud and having a competency kink for pre-serum Steve improving his skills. 

I imagine Steve being 18 or 19 here, and having spent his high school years being picked on because he's so scrawny. However, now that he's graduated, he has a bit more time on his hands, so he decides that he wants to get stronger somehow. Weights have never been his thing, though, so he starts learning how to swim. He doesn't have the money to spend on swim lessons, so he just goes to the local pool to teach himself.

The only problem is the presence of a lifeguard who's distractingly handsome. He looks like he's a few years older than Steve, maybe 25 at the oldest.. He has a gorgeous smile that he directs towards Steve every time they see each other. Steve can't help but wish that he could learn how to swim from this man.

It takes about 2 weeks of regularly going to the pool for the lifeguard to introduce himself. Steve has just finished swimming a few laps and he's pretty tired. His name is Thor. His father and the pool owner are friends, so he offers to help Steve learn how to swim after hours so Steve won't have to deal with people getting in the way. Steve agrees immediately.

The first thing Thor does is teach him stretches to help himself warm up and cool down. Steve can't help but be distracted, especially since Thor is wearing a bright red speedo. Everything is on display, from Thor's impressive shoulders, chest, and arms to his long, muscular legs. And of course, there's his glorious ass and the package that bulges against the poor, innocent fabric of the speedo. Steve can't look away, but he somehow manages to do the stretches every night.

Thor is a surprisingly good teacher, even considering the fact that Steve finds him distracting. He's patient and thorough. He teaches Steve freestyle first, then the backstroke, the breaststroke, the sidestroke, and lastly, the butterfly. Steve struggles with the butterfly the most due to his lack of upper body strength. He prefers freestyle and he's not surprised that Thor is amazing at the butterfly.

Steve gradually becomes stronger and grows in endurance. The longer the lessons last, the more they learn about each other. Steve learns that Thor has been swimming and training his entire life to be an Olympic swimmer. He’s been giving lessons ever since he was 16 and been a lifeguard since he was 18. He missed making the Olympic team four years ago due to a minor foot injury that kept him from attending the tryouts. This year, though, he intends to make the team. 

Steve fully believes he can do it. One day, Thor takes him to a different pool (that his dad’s friend also owns, because that’s apparently his thing). It’s far longer than the pool Thor’s been teaching Steve how to swim in. It’s 50 meters long, for starters, and 3 meters deep. It makes diving fun, of course, and watching Thor dive into the pool and swim to the other side as fast as he can is always incredible. Their lessons start taking place here and Steve always arrives early to watch Thor practice. When he asks how Thor still has the energy to teach him, Thor merely laughs and tells him that the lessons are essentially a way to cool down for him. 

A few months after their lessons started, Steve is able to exceed his previous record. He’s not very fast, but he’s been able to build up his endurance. He’s able to swim 1000 meters one evening without Thor’s assistance. it took him a while, but he was able to make it. He’s exhausted by the end of it, but when he stops, he clings to the pools edge in the shallow end of the pool. As he’s catching his breath, he feels a pair of arms surround him from either side. He doesn’t have to look behind him to know it’s Thor. What he wasn’t expecting was for him to feel Thor press his cock against his ass, or for it to be rock hard. 

A moment later, he feels Thor’s mouth on his neck, sucking and kissing against him. Thor murmurs his praises into Steve’s ear as his hands wander down Steve’s body. Steve is gasping for a whole different reason now and he doesn’t want to stop. 

Thor takes care of everything. It’s after hours and they’re the only ones in the pool now. They’re the only ones in the building. Their kissing each other passionately without a care in the world, particularly not about the fact that they’re technically supposed to be closing up. 

Thor’s cock is even bigger than Steve expected it would be. The stretch as it enters his ass is indescribable. Steve is sure that he won’t be able to walk tomorrow. He can’t bring himself to stop, though. He pushes back against Thor, down onto his cock. He sucks on Thor’s fingers as he moans and he can taste the chlorine from the water. 

It’s impossible to say how long they fucked in the pool. If Thor wasn’t holding him, then Steve was clinging to the edge of the pool, bent over as Thor hammered into him. The water sloshed over them, making shallow waves from their movements. Finally, when Thor comes, he shoots his load deep into Steve’s ass. Steve comes at the same time, his own come bursting out into the water. 

They’re both gasping for breath now. Thor’s cock is still inside Steve’s body, still hard. He grins warmly as he congratulates Steve on beating his record. 

One unexpected result of their little sexcapade is that they’ve both lost their swimming gear. There’s a certain thrill in having to swim naked to retrieve them from where they had floated to the other end of the pool. Thor doesn’t bother putting his on, though, and walks completely naked to the locker room. Steve decides to follow suit. They dress together and close up the pool. Thor leads Steve to his apartment, where they pick up where they left off. Neither of them swims that day, but they get other forms of exercise. Steve appreciates seeing how well the muscles he’s developed from swimming come in handy in Thor’s bedroom as he rides Thor’s cock all night. 

Thor does eventually make the Olympic swim team. Steve is there to cheer him on. Thor makes waves during the next Olympics both for being an impeccable specimen and for proposing to Steve immediately after he wins the gold medal in the butterfly. The two of them become an internet sensation overnight, and they celebrate by having sex once again in a pool, though a private one, this time. 

[punkgrogg]

Doorway Duo pt.2

Pairing: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader, Hybrid!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Hybrid!BTS, Non idol AU, fluff

Warnings: Pregnancy

Summary: Y/n was abandoned by her long time boyfriend and moves back home to help prepare for the baby. She’s surprised to find two unfamiliar hybrids at her house.

Length: 2,456 words

Notes: Sorry for the long wait, this summer has been one disaster and tragedy (my grandpa, great grandma, and college friend have all passed) after another but I’m almost finished with part 3 so I’ll be posting that in the next couple of days. 

Date posted: 7/26/2020

Pregnancy sucks.  My back hurts and my feet are sore after just a few hours walking. Not to mention the overall discomfort of my body swelling up to accommodate the new human developing inside of it. Luckily I only have about three more months of this left and I could finally hold my baby boy. Yeah, Hobi was right. He claimed that it was his hybrid genes that made him privy to this information but Kook calls bullshit- he and Tae had been hoping it was a girl.

In the past two months of staying back home, I’ve seemed to bond super well with the two new hybrids. At first, it was easy to become friends with Tae, he was overly friendly and followed me around after our first-day meeting. Once my baby bump became prominent I could keep him away; he spent most of his waking hours cooing at my stomach. I had to work a bit harder to get Jungkook to open up to me and all it took was a few weeks of calling Taehyung his nickname.  Apparently, he was just shy and wanted to be my friend also but he was jealous that Tae got to be called Tae. I called him Kook since then and all shyness flew out the door. He and Tae were both so energized all the time and both so caring. Today they insisted on accompanying me to the store because they didn’t want me to accidentally overwork myself. Hobi tagged along too, not wanting to be left behind at the house alone.

I was flanked by both Jungkook and Taehyung the moment we entered the store but this is something I've had to get used to.  Another thing I’ve had to get used to is that Taehyung was very touchy. His hands are always in contact with some part of my body and today he had wrapped his arm around my waist and his fingers traced small circles into my side as we strolled down the aisles. Usually, I wasn’t someone who liked to be held all the time but with Tae, it never bothered me, it was actually comforting most of the time. Hobi strolled a few feet ahead of us while he was bickering with Taehyung over the chips that were tossed into the cart.  The great chip debate happened every time we went to the store, Hoseok had a weird taste when it came to snacks and my other brothers and I had long gotten over it. 

Jungkook was hovering on my right- so close that our knuckles brushed as we walked- his presence a constant that I’ve become accustomed to these last few weeks.  He was back to his quiet guy persona, it probably would stay this way until we got home. Hobi thought it was funny when we went out in public together- said that Jungkook changes gear into high alert one I became a variable. It was hard for me to imagine him outside of the two versions of him that I knew, the quiet and shy versus the playful and relaxed.  At home, Jungkook was the one to cajole me into chasing him throughout the house but whenever I turn a corner too fast he’s there with arms outstretched to catch me. 

Taehyung too acted a bit differently when we went out, usually he was a bundle of energy and excitement that couldn’t be contained but in public, he seemed to change into a startling somber man who would then meld himself to my side once out the door. I guess this fed into his protective instincts as well.  Tae was the one who was most concerned with my well being in the house. He responded to every grunt and whimper I’ve made since I’ve moved in. He forced me into weekly self-care nights and rushed to prevent me from overworking myself no matter the task. I would think that it was charming normally but because of him, I’ve been banned from dish duty after accidentally cutting my finger after moving in. 

My parents had warned me that the three hybrids in the house might change a bit while the pregnancy developed but if I were uncomfortable then I should let them know right away. Hoseok was the same Hoseok as ever- a beam of sunshine in my monotonous life. He has spent increasingly more time outside of our house - going on dates with some mysterious guy. He has stopped teasing me a much this past week or two and instead teases Jungkook and Taehyung twice as much. Jungkook and Tae have obviously turned into my pseudo bodyguards and that can probably be chalked up to their hybrid instincts. 

Why else would these two hang onto me so closely?   I thought to myself as I focused on a sign for a buy one get one half off deal for oatmeal. Dad liked oats in the morning but there didn’t seem to be any of his favored cinnamon flavors. Taehyung suddenly ripped me out of my peaceful bubble by tugging me into his side abruptly. Jungkook stood in front of me while I could hear Hoseok apologize profusely. Both Taehyung and Jungkook had their faces twisted into scowls as they peered down at the man huddled on the floor. He looked familiar.

His curly blonde hair seemed to be what struck me with a name on the tip of my tongue. I couldn’t quite place him, how many blonde men did I know? Not many other than that Jimin guy Hobi brought around since high school. I couldn’t place him until he glanced over where I was peeking out over Jungkook’s shoulder. His eyes were blue, an icy pale blue that was the same color as his. This was Henry’s little brother. Was it Darren? Or maybe David? It was hard to recall as Henry was coles with his family. Especially after their parents divorced and He had been the only child to go live with his dad. I had only met David a few times over the almost six years we had been together. 

“Y/n?”  He asked, his eyes lighting up in recognition. Hobi- who was interrupted mid apology for ramming into him with the cart- looked back at me with inquisitive eyes. Taehyung tried to pull me closer to his side but this once I resisted and stepped from the overwhelming protection of the Duo. 

“David? Last I saw you, you were a scrawny little beanpole.” I teased light-heartedly as I stood next to Hobi. David’s cheeks flushed as he stood up and straightened out his clothes. 

“Uh, well, I grew up. It’s been three years so how’s it been going? Henry said you guys split up.” His eyes seemed to be glued to my stomach. My stomach was big, especially for how far along I was at only six months of my pregnancy but I was already passing the size of a watermelon. My hands came up to cradle my stomach. 

I forced a smile, “Yeah, we did. It’s been about six months, I think? I’ve been doing good though.” 

It was then that my blood ran cold. Rounding the corner behind David was the man I never wanted to see again. Henry.  These last few months haven’t fully rid me of the sting of abandonment and no matter how much I’ve been coddled - it could never erase the pain and loneliness that I’ve had to overcome. I could feel my brother tense up beside and his threats to ‘rip out his throat’ came ringing in the back of my head. I calmly reached out and held onto his forearm gently.

Henry’s attention was fully focused on the bakery box in his hands and he only glanced up at his brother. He quickly did a double-take when he noticed that there were five looming figures instead of just the one. He skimmed over the group of strangers until he locked eyes with me. His feet took root and held him back a few feet away as he gawked. 

“Baby? That's my baby?” he managed to choke out while his eyes bugged out of his head. David’s jaw dropped and suddenly, with both their gazes trained on me, I felt so much smaller than just a few moments ago.  I could feel panic clawing at my throat as it rattled its way out of my chest at the sudden turn of events. That’s until a warm firm hand grasped onto my elbow as the familiar towering presence materialized behind me. Jungkook. His hold quelled my panic almost instantly. I fixed a terse smile at Henry, my face changing a calm disposition.

“No. You were right: there was no way it could be your baby.” I could feel the acid dripping from my lips as I forced a saccharine sweet smile at the asshole.

Henry’s face quickly snapped out of the shocked expression, almost as quickly as his face took on a reddened hue. “So you were a fucking whore and got knocked up by some hybrid? Should have known, your family is way too close to those fucking freaks.” He kept his eyes trained on Jungkook’s hand holding onto me.

“Oh, I knew you were a piece of shit the first time she brought you home.” Hoseok laughed unamused. He abandoned the cart only to stalk towards Henry, stopping with barely six inches left between the two. “The only thing keeping me from tearing you limb from limb right now is the fact that she begged me to, One more comment from your limp-dicked self will be more than enough to break my self-control. This is the last time you’ll ever speak to her or her children. Understood?” Henry nodded quickly with a face painted in fear. 

Taehyung stepped forward and turned the cart around. Jungkook tugged me along and rubbed his hand on my arm in comfort. Tae swiped a few boxes of snack cake of the shelf as we hurried away and a sudden ringing sound of a slap rang out through the aisle.  No-one turned around. As we approached the lines for check out I could hear the squeaking of Hobi’s sneakers as he ran to catch up with us.  His hands replaced Jungkook’s as he tugged me into his chest. 

He tucked my head under his chin and held me tightly, so tight that he managed to squeeze out the few tears I was managing to fight back. He only tightened his grasp as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. He let go momentarily to wrench his wallet out of his back pocket so he could exchange it for keys from Jungkook. He pulled me out from under the judging stares of the cashiers and led me to the parking lot. As we neared the car he hugged me closer to his side so he could press his cheek against the top of my head. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. 

“No. I’m sorry I let you be with that asshole. I failed as a big brother.” he sighed despondently and I could feel the guilt twisting my stomach into knots.

“No, you’re the best one I got. I’m sorry he said that about you, I’ve never heard him say anything like that before. I love you Hobi, you’re my sunshine.” I cried as I held onto his shirt.

“I know you don’t think of me that way or the guys. I can remember you fighting punks like that at the park growing up. His dumbass will never affect how much I love my snot-nosed baby sister.” he pulled away and leveled me with a soft smile, forcing me to return one. 

“Did you hit him? You could get in a lot of trouble.” I bit onto my lip as I imagined the terrible consequences. He could lose his job at the shelter. He could be marked aggressively by the government and taken away. He could be arrested.

His warm soft hands squished my cheeks as he made me face him. “Aw, is our little Y/n worried about her big brother? Don’t worry my princess, bubby didn’t hurt him. His brother slapped the socks off him. I was shocked.”  His blinding smile finally returned and could hear a cart being pushed behind us. I turned to see Taehyung standing on the front of the cart with a big smile as he waved to us; Jungkook was running full speed at the handle of the cart. 

I laughed at the two idiots as they barely managed to stop before crashing into my car. Taehyung’s hands flew forward to brace himself against the trunk. Jungkook laughed heartily as Taehyung started to yell at him for almost squishing him. 

“Kook, are you driving us back?” I asked to save him from the snow leopard. He nodded as Hobi tossed him the keys. Kook popped the trunk while Hobi and Tae tossed in the few bags of groceries. Jungkook steered away from the cart and we all filed into the car wordlessly. I was in the passenger seat with Hobi behind me. There seemed to be a heavy curtain of silence surrounding us all. 

“Taehyung, Jungkook, I’m sorry for what Henry said.” I pointedly kept my attention at the fast-changing scenery. They were both silent until I could feel hot breath against my neck. A chin rested on my shoulder while a nose pressed itself between my ear and jawline. 

“Why are you sorry? Did you teach him to hate hybrids?” Tae’s deep voice was just barely louder than a whisper but it echoed in my heart. I whipped my head towards him, my eyebrows pinched together harshly, only to see the grin plastered on his face.

“You know I don’t think like that. Don’t tease me like that, I was apologizing because you guys don’t deserve to be spoken to like that. You’re people; kind, caring people.” I glared at him with no heat while his smile only widened. 

“We do know, that’s why we weren’t mad. It's something that happens and we can’t help that we’re used to it. We were actually pissed at that asshat.” Jungkook harrumphed in agreement and I could feel the knot loosen in my stomach. 

“I’ve been trying to join Team Hate Henry since we moved in and Hoseok hasn’t allowed it. I bet Namjoon will let us in now.” Jungkook smirked back at Hobi who squeaked in protest.

“Namjoon cannot know that we met with him. He would actually kill him.” I interjected, my fear helping me envision Joonie in an orange jumpsuit. 

Jungkook side-eyed me before smirking at me, “ Would that be so bad?”

 Tag list! just let me know if you want added.

@jelly-fishy-babie @nomimits7 @littlewolfieposts

[drakefeathers]

anyway this is the beginning of my twewy fic that’s been consuming me for the past month. it’s like. almost 11k now. i'm so close but the last 5% goes the slowest always. neo spoilers obvs.

--

The route is a little different each time, but it follows the same rhythm. He hits up the usual spots—the scramble, Hachiko, 104. The mural in Udagawa. Then over to Cat Street, and always ending at the river, looking down into the dark entrance of that tunnel.

He’ll mix it up in between, depending on how the mood strikes. Take a loop through Dogenzaka, linger around Center Street or roll through the park. Headphones on, music playing, he keeps it loose and lets his board lead the way, hoping it’ll take him to what he’s looking for.

Scramble’s as crowded as ever today. Beat steps off his board and crosses on foot to avoid crashing into anybody. As he moves along with the stream of pedestrians he keeps an eye out for a pair of headphones, Jupiter brand clothing, a bright head of hair on a scrawny frame—the kind of familiar things that could use a second look.

In the middle of the crossing, he stops. Someone bumps into him, but he stands firm, and the crowd flows around him. He closes his eyes and focuses on screaming one thought as loud as he can in his mind, loud enough to drown out all the noise in this city. 

Loud enough that if someone was out there, listening, they couldn’t help but hear him.

A moment goes by. Beat opens his eyes again and keeps walking, stepping onto the curb just as the walk signal blinks over to red.

—

The three of them used to search Shibuya together, at the beginning. But that was a long time ago. Now each of them does their own thing. Beat likes it better this way—alone, he can cover more ground faster on his board. And he can roll with each hit of disappointment as it comes, easier than shielding someone else from it.

Most days he’ll find Shiki by Hachiko. She brings homework or a sketchpad and sits on the railing nearest to the statue, working, but mostly waiting. They don’t always talk—sometimes there isn’t much to say, and he’ll just give a nod as he glides by.

It hurts to see her sitting there. Makes it tough to ignore that hollow feeling in his chest when the same yearning is written clear on her face. Every few minutes she’ll look up and scan the crowds around her with a kind of quiet hope, then lower her gaze again in resignation. The same motion over and over, day after day.

They’ve never brought it up, but Beat knows she can feel it just as much as him, that Neku isn’t erased. That connection from their pact never disappeared, not completely. When they fought the Noise together in the UG it blazed like an inferno, since returning to the RG it’s dwindled down to a spark. But it’s not gone, and neither is Neku. He isn’t even that far away. 

He feels so near that Beat can’t shake the sense that the next time he looks over his shoulder he might see Neku there, looking back at him.

Shiki isn’t waiting outside today, but Beat spots her in the nearby cafe, sitting at the counter against the window, facing the square. Her stuffed animal is placed on the tabletop where it can be easily seen. Shiki smiles brightly at Beat and waves at him through the glass, and he waves back and heads inside.

“I heard it was going to rain soon, so I snagged a seat in here,” Shiki says as he sits down on the stool next to her. She pushes over a plate with an untouched half of a sandwich. “Here, you can finish this if you want.”

Beat’s not going to say no to that. Shiki sketches a bit frantically on her tablet while he eats. At one point she lets out a stressed little sigh and scrubs at the screen to erase half her work. 

“Whatchu got there?” Beat asks. 

“I’m finishing some new concepts for our winter collection. We got funding to double the size of the launch, if you can believe it. I’m hoping we can fit a few more items in.”

“Winter? But it ain’t even summer yet.”

“I know, I’m super behind, actually.” She taps on the screen and pulls up a picture of a plaid coat, smiling at it fondly. “I think Neku would like this one, don’t you? Maybe he’ll be able to wear it in the UG.”

The figure she drew doesn’t even have a face, but it’s Neku. Something about the tilt of the head, the line of its outstretched arm… Beat can’t pinpoint it exactly. He has no idea how Shiki does that, or if she’s even aware.

“Ever since we got the shop in 104, I sometimes think… what if he just walked in one day?” Shiki confesses. She adjusts her glasses as she looks up and gazes out the window hopefully. “I mean… I guess it could happen.”

Beat takes a quick glance over his shoulder. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

“Anyway, how’s Rhyme? I’ve been so busy, I haven’t talked to her in a while.”

“Good. Busy, too, burnin’ through all those computer courses she’s taking. She’s always holed up in her room, and I don’t understand half of what she’s talking ‘bout these days.”

“She’s still trying to find a way to hack into the UG, right?” Shiki taps a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “That would be amazing. Is it even possible?”

“If anyone can do it, it’s her,” says Beat, his pride clouded with worry, because, honestly, he wishes she wouldn’t. He hates the idea of Rhyme getting mixed up with the Reapers again, even from behind a computer.

“What about you, what have you been up to?” Shiki asks.

“Nothin’ new,” he says with a shrug. “Hittin’ the streets, like usual. Been a long time since I seen anyone from the UG, though.”  

“Besides that.” There’s a concerned crinkle between her eyebrows. “How’s school? Or— are things at home any better?”

Beat smiles. “It is what it is, like my sis’d say.” He stands and slings his bag over his shoulder. “I gotta bounce, yo. Later, Shiki.”

“Bye, Beat. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

—

Some event is going on at 104 this afternoon, the entrance is blocked by a crowd of excited teenagers. Beat gives them a wide berth as he takes his usual quick pass by the building, watching the bustling shoppers and the big video screen for signs of anything suspicious that might hint at the Reapers being up to some shit again. He doesn’t spend a lot of time around here, it’s always too busy, and Shiki’s got this one covered.

There’s a lot of people carrying shopping bags from her store today. He’s happy she’s making her dream come true. She was so torn up with guilt over it for so long, even though they all know it’s what Neku would’ve wanted. It sucks that he isn’t around to see it.

Beat tries not to dwell on these kind of thoughts—there’s no point to it, and it’s not his style, better to keep moving—but as he heads up Center Street he passes a group of friends standing outside a photo booth, laughing loudly over the pictures they’d just taken, enjoying their day together, and he’s freshly gut-punched with how fucking unfair it is. 

They won that game. They’d made it out. They were *good*. For those few short weeks, it had really felt like things were going to work out.

Coming back to life had been like a second chance. He and Rhyme were closer than ever, and he had some new friends, forged in fire. His parents were actually a bit better when he got home from the “hospital”, distraught after nearly losing both their kids, and they were cutting him some breaks for once. He even tried pretty hard with school again, and did alright on a few tests.

Not that it was all great. He’s still haunted by that lost look on Rhyme’s face as she sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor their first day back home, her old diary open on her lap, flipping through half-blank pages. “There’s nothing here,” she’d said quietly, with a heartbreaking kind of acceptance.

Beat stood in the doorway, his shaking hands clenched uselessly into fists. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. His vision blurred with tears, and he fought them back, knowing he didn’t have the right. He shouldn’t be crying, he wasn’t the one to lose something precious.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Rhyme stood and gave him a comforting hug that he knew he didn’t deserve. He was probably holding her too tightly, still trying to convince himself that it was real, that she was really there, but she didn’t complain. “All that matters is that we’re together.” After he finally managed to let her go, she went and picked up the diary from the floor, shutting it with a clap. “It’s a closed door. I just have to find my window.”

Rhyme smiled then, small but determined, and Beat knew she would be all right. She always finds a way to face forward. And, for the first time, he felt like maybe he was, too.

It was nice, for a while. But it sure as hell didn’t last. 

Now he moves through this city on an endless loop. His grades are trash, his parents barely speak to him except to complain about what a disappointment he is, and he spends too many nights awake trying to outrun nightmares on his skateboard, which just makes the rest of it worse.

But none of that really matters. Not school, definitely not what his parents think of him. The only worthwhile things he’d ever done had been with Neku. They saved Rhyme together, and this whole city. Beat owes him everything. He’ll be damned if he lets his best bud just slip through the cracks of reality. He’s gonna keep looking, no matter how long it takes.

[autistic-stedebonnet]

Mako’s Journey in Learning to Love Theater Kids

Chapter 1/?

In which Mako does in fact, go to plays.

notes- this fic is abandoned, don’t read if you don’t like being disappointed

-----

Mako didn’t go to plays. He went to his baseball games because well… they were his games, so that’s a given. He went to Korra’s swim meets, Bolin’s soccer games (before he quit to pursue his dreams of something or other. Mako had stopped paying attention after the 7th insane ambition)  and occasionally those mind-numbing competitions for Asami’s robotics club. Ok, they weren’t really mind-numbing, everyone there was just like, really smart and kinda made him feel like an idiot. Not to mention, Varrick is the chaperone for the robotics club, and they don’t exactly get on too well. Varrick is also the theater teacher, as well as a chemistry teacher, Mako isn’t exactly sure how. Before you ask, no it’s not Mr. Varrick. Varrick insists on being called by just his last name (or maybe it’s his first name, Mako’s never really bothered to ask. Bolin probably knows) But that’s off topic.

Mako did not go to plays under any circumstance whatsoever. But Mako also didn’t disappoint his younger brother who -without consulting anyone mind you- had gone and not only joined the theater program, but gotten the lead role in the next of the school’s terribly written plays. Bolin said that it was sheer, unadulterated talent. Mako preferred to call it ‘no one else auditioned, idiot.’ So, in conclusion, Mako went to plays under ONE circumstance.

--- “Kill me.”

Korra snorted as Mako slumped down in his seat, looking much too like a disgruntled Lin than he’d ever dare admit to. Asami shot a deathly glare in her direction before patting Mako’s shoulder sympathetically.

“I’m sure it won’t even be that bad.” 

“Wow Asami, you’re a great liar!”

“Korra! Not helping!”

Mako sighed. “No Korra’s right-”

“As always.”

“-it’s gonna be terrible. You two don’t have to go to fucking Denny’s after with 3 dozen theater kids.”

Korra burst out laughing and Asami grimaced.

“You don’t have to go. Can’t you just drop Bolin off?” The latter suggested.

“No.” Mako snapped. 

Mako had a problem with leaving Bolin alone anywhere. According to his therapist, it related to the trauma he had from spending ages 8-14 on the streets, where leaving Bolin alone meant leaving Bolin to be stabbed in an alley and left for dead. Mako thought that was stupid. He didn’t have trauma. His therapist knew nothing and the only reason he still went was because it was either that, or Lin sent him to Air Temple island for a month hoping that their sickening happy-go-lucky shit would rub off on him just enough that he’d stop thinking everyone was out to kill him. 

Korra leaned over the table and stole one of Mako’s fries, not bothering to finish chewing before responding. “Boyin uh ee fine!”

“What?” Mako and Asami said in unison.

Korra swallowed with a dramatic eye roll. “Bolin’ll be fine. He’s 16, he-”

“No.” 

The subject was dropped and Bolin sat down beside Mako, out of breath and grinning so wide to the point that it was almost unsettling. “Who’s excited for the play tonight!”

“Whoopee.” Mako grumbled, resisting the urge to slam his face into the table. --- “What the fuck is that costume!?” Mako cried, staring at a smiling Bolin pictured on the front of the program.

“Mako!” Asami scolded. “It’s starting.”

Right. Think before you speak Mako. Not everything that comes to your mind is socially acceptable to say out loud, don’t- Shut UP. 

The lights faded and a horribly composed piano piece began playing. Mako was about 90% sure that someone was backstage letting a cat walk across the keys. Bolin waltzed out on stage followed by Korra’s gigantic polarbear dog, Naga, that she’d apparently volunteered for the play. Mako was pretty sure she was getting extra credit in Chemistry for doing it. And- oh.

 Mako snapped his head over to look at Korra and Asami, the former of which was holding back laughter to the point of tears while the latter slapped her hands over her mouth, horrified.

“What the hell is he wearing? It’s even worse than the one in the picture!” Mako hissed. “Is that even allowed?!”

“Raiko’s gonna have a fit!” Korra wheezed, earning several glares from the surrounding audience.

“Isn’t this set in the South pole?” Asami asked. 

Korra nodded. “Oh yeah he’d totally be dead from frost bite.”

“My brother is a moron.”

“Who was in charge of the costumes?” Asami whispered.

Korra giggled. “Probably Eska.”

Mako raised an eyebrow. “Your insane cousin?”

“That’s the one.”

10 minutes later, Korra leaned over and whispered to Mako, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure this is satire. Remember that mover from last year that was supposedly based on Southern Water Tribe culture, but was just a whole mess of cultural appropriation?”

“The one from that weird Earth Kingdom director that dressed everyone like… well like how Bolin’s dressed, and only cast two people actually from the Southern Water Tribe?”

“Yea, I think they’re kinda mocking that. Varrick’s from the Southern Water Tribe, so it’d make sense.”

“That does explain why Bolin keeps ‘accidentally’ referring to everyone as Earth Kingdom citizens.”

“And why he’s dressed like that.”

“That too.”

“Although that might also be to distract from the terrible dialogue.” 

“Distract- Korra! Please don’t make me think that everyone in here is ogling my brother.”

Korra shrugged and Asami swatted her on the arm, shushing them both. 

“Spirits! Mako, Asami!” Korra whisper-shouted, breaking the silence that’d lasted all of 45 seconds. “That’s the kid that kept hitting on me a few years ago.”

“Who?” Mako turned to her, brows furrowed. “There’s like 5 people up there.”

“Wu. He transferred here the year after you and Korra came.” Asami explained.

“Yea ok, but-”

“He’s the spindly kid who looks like a 12 year old next to Bolin.”

“Korra!” 

“Am I wrong? And besides, he was a jerk to me when we were 14, I’ll call him scrawny as much as I please.”

Wu. Huh, he’s kinda cute. Mako’s thoughts dared to say. Wait, what?! No he’s not! I mean, I’m straight!

“I think he’s gotten better.” Asami said, but she didn’t quite sound like she believed herself. “He hasn’t hit on me since a couple years ago.”

“It’s probably internalized homophobia.” What the fuck Mako, learn to shut up dammit. 

Asami’s eyebrows shot up and she grinned all too knowingly. Korra just about broke her neck swiveling to face Mako. “Probably what?”

“In-internalized homophobia.” Mako stuttered. SHUT UP! “Y’know the whole, hitting on every girl in sight to seem like, super straight?”

“What would you know about that Mr. Heterosexual?” Korra replied.

“Nothing!” Thank the spirits it’s too dark for them to see your face, you probably look like a tomato-carrot!

“Korra,” Asami scolded, skillfully fighting back a laugh of her own. 

Mako shoved his face into his scarf and muttered a slew of profanities that’d make Lin proud. A few minutes passed before he looked up, thankfully finding both Korra and Asami focused on the play. He could get through this. Only an hour to go, plus intermission. He was gonna kill Bolin after this. --- “Mako!” Bolin cried, bounding up to Mako, thankfully dressed in his normal clothes again. He threw his arm around his older brother and grinned. “How excited are you to meet everyone.”

“Oh, so excited, ” Mako deadpanned.

Bolin stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. “Mako buddy, don’t be so grumpy! You’re gonna love everyone.” He smiled earnestly and ran out to the car, waving to about 5 people along the way.

Waving. Mako knew that his brother had more friends than him, it’d always been like that. Bolin was the friendly one, the funny one. But it was still surreal seeing him close to people Mako had never spoken to. Everyone liked Bolin. 

“Mako! Earth to Mako!”

Mako shook himself from his reverie and started the car with a sigh. “We’re leaving at 10 on the dot.”

“Awww, Mako!” Bolin whined, turning his polarbear dog eyes on Mako. “C’mon! That’s only two hours!”

“It’s two hours too many.”

---

I really hope you like chapter 1! I’m always open to feedback :)))

@chi-blocker-ty-lee @linbeifuckmeup

chapter 2

[peacefulwriter88]

Shackled

Warnings: NC 18. Blowjobs. Penetration. Language 

A/N: @younghades inspired me for this story and was also kind enough to beta for me along with @geminimoonbeamx - thank you! I really enjoy exploring parts of Steve that the comics do a beautiful job of portraying but the MCU unfortunately never exploited completely + SMUT. I hope you all enjoy!

_____

How dare he. 

How fucking dare he. 

You pause lifting your martini to your lips, the promise of gin just a mouths length away as you look down at the photo. 

It’s Steve and he’s wearing his classic red avengers sweatshirt that reads Captain in the back. Not that you could see it in this photo. No, in this photo all you could see was the beard, that handsome beard of his in a smile and the Australian Shepard dog, Merlin, that you both had adopted a year ago. Underneath the photo he had written in italics

New snuggle bug since the one I would want isn’t home

It was a trick. A distraction to guilt you home. Your earlier conversation, though you knew he understood, must’ve fallen on deaf ears, 

“Why aren’t you home?” he had asked two hours earlier and you had, in your already tipsy state rolled your eyes and sassed back, 

“Why aren’t you home? It's Bre’s birthday. You know that I told her - and you - that I would be out.” 

That had been the end of that. 

You didn’t realize that he was going to surprise you and Merlin tonight. Now, all you could think about was being back home, not in a short, spandex’s black dress that you had worn out but in sweats and a sweatshirt. You were restless from staying in the past week waiting on him - being an avenger didn’t provide the liberty to determine your on schedule. 

So you send him a simple text 

Pick me up in 10?

Not thinking anything of it. Thinking, for sure, that he would ignore it. 

You should know better than to ever underestimate Steve Rogers 

When you and your friends leave the club twenty minutes later, you are all surprised at the blonde blue-eyed Avenger who is watching you deliberately.

He’s leaning on his bike  across the street, ocean eyes watching your every move as you make your way to the street with your friends. Everyone is trying to hail a ride - should they lyft or uber? - but your eyes are stamped to him as he pushes off his bike, makes his way towards your group. 

You were going home by a different means. 

“Ladies, how are you doing tonight?” your friends squeal because it was Steve Rogers and gawd weren’t you lucky to have a man like Steve Rogers in love with you. They say as much and you agree - you were lucky as you lean up to wrap your arms around him, press your lips to his. 

He’s cold and soft in all the ways you expected him to be - you’re sure he was hoping to walk into a house with you in it, making dinner and eagerly waiting for him alongside Merlin- and normally you would be. Normally you lived for those evenings. 

But tonight…...

“I just needed one night out….I’ve been so alone missing you.” you whisper against his soft lips and his hands go to squeeze your ass, kisses you again as he gives a small smile. 

“I know.” 

His voice is dark and guttural, tickles against the beard he’s decided to keep since being out of shadow. 

“Sorry ladies, going to have to steal her.” it's all he says as he wraps his arms around your waist, starts to escort you across the street. 

“Going to have to remind you who you belong to…” he whispers lowly, placing one last kiss on your neck before helping you onto the bike, doing your best not to flash others. 

That was how it began. 

Now you were sitting in your shared apartment, hands crossed neatly over your lap as you sat criss crossed in your bed. Steve was in the chair across from you, slightly slouched, a beer in one hand as he rubbed his beard, flickering from your face to the dark area between your legs that was hidden from him. 

He had lit candles in the room when you had walked in and your nostril was stinging with the smells of sandalwood and teakwood, woodsy dark smells that had caused goosebumps to splay over your body when you realized the kind of night that Steve was hoping to have. 

That you had disrupted. 

“What should I do with you?” he finally asks, placing his beer down on the table and looking at you expectantly. You shrug and he raises an eyebrow - a warning -  and you clear your throat as you say, 

“I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know what?” he repeats, thoughtly warning ringing in your ears and you sit up more straight as you mumble out, 

“I don’t know, sir.” 

Steve tilts his head, watches you for a second more before shaking his head, 

“You really hurt my feelings earlier sugar.” 

Sugar. This was gentle Steve, trying to tame the monster that he tried to keep caged down 90% of the time. The parts of him he didn’t allow anyone else to see - the mistakes, the pain, the regret that he all took out in the darker side of him. 

You didn’t want him to be gentle, not anymore. You liked dominant, choactic Steve Rogers when he showed up. 

“I didn’t mean too, sir, but I just needed to get some fresh air tonight.” 

“Needed to tease all those men.” he bites back, the tinge of jealousy intertwining in his words and you bite back the moan that wants to release as you nod your head slowly.  His voice is coarser as he whispers, 

“Wanted them to forget how you’re chained to me? How you’re mine.” 

Another nod from you, as you say with a low sultry voice, 

“Girl’s like to tease to remember that they’re desirable.” 

It was true. A guy hadn’t looked at you for months. Steve made sure of that. It normally didn’t bother you - it was nice that men understood that you were called for.  Except Steve had been in and out of your life for weeks lately  and that had you insecure. All up in your head. 

He gets up, walks up to you slowly, like a cat circling its prey, 

“Are my reminders not good enough.” his voice is dominant, yes, but with a touch of pain. 

“They’re fine when you’re around. When you’re not then my insecurities start to haunt me.” 

You and Steve make it work - your relationship - because of the honesty you both have built. You wanted him to understand that you weren’t being completely disobedient because of your natural need to be defiant but because you also needed to breathe. 

Loving an Avenger - fallen or not - was just as hard as being an Avenger. 

He knows all of this, could hear it over the phone the past few weeks but didn’t want to bring it up - didn’t want to cause a fight. So he let it linger, let it lay in the air and here you both were. 

Itching to destroy the other. 

You brought out his savage side. He feared it. He loved it. 

He loved you and he wanted you to understand to know. However; you also were being openly defiant and all those weeks of dead bodies - of letting humanity and his team down and the nightmares he kept at night were only binded, begging to be released. 

Only you could free him of it. He exhausted of being Mr. Good Boy. 

“On your knees.” Steve whispers, stopping a few yards in front of the bed. You take your time as you untangle your limbs, begin to crawl towards him. You know that he wants to punish you - wants to embarass you for leaving him out on a limb and you try to fight the moan that wants to escape your lips in anticipation - the flushing of your panties. The shame you carry from being turned on from the thought. 

You make it to him a little slower then he’d prefer - you were in one of those moods it would seem - and so when you're on your knees in front of him, looking at him with your eyes blinking up at him innocently he already knows how he’s going to punish you. 

Love you. 

               Reward you.

                                  Cherish you. 

                                                     Destroy you. 

He takes his time unbuckling his belt, watching you under dark indigo eyes that brew like a storm in the Atlantic, the pop of his buttons a welcomed distraction. You try to focus on the sound of his jeans brushing down his legs, pooling at his feet as he kicks them off, his boxers silent as his erection springs free. 

You groan, drinking in his manhood

You think back to a conversation that you had with your friend Stefanie hours earlier. She had been drunk - she had had a very long work week - and had no filter for her next words, 

“You’re dating a man with super soldier serum? Does that mean he has a super soldier cock?” 

You smirk as you drink in his manhood now. You had told her not to worry about it - it was between you and Steve. Now, you admire what is in front of you. He was lengthy, sure, and girthy in all the right ways - a blonde beaut that his trimmed hairs praised as it stood at attention but you’re not sure if his manhood being glorious was all super serum. 

In your gut you felt this was always Steve, even when he was scrawny and could barely carry himself and didn’t know what to do with the weapon between his legs. 

His stamina; however, you attested that all to the serum. 

“You’re going to be an obedient little girl and let me fuck this mouth however I please. You’re not going to protest and when I think you’re ready you’re going to drink my cum like the good little slut I  know you to be. You got that sweetheart?” 

Sweetheart. There he was.

He whispers the demeaning words and they shouldn’t turn you on, they really shouldn’t, but it's all you can do to not bend backwards and cum in your panties. Still doesn’t deny a rush that floods between your legs, getting you wetter, and the smell mingles with the candles that are burning in the room. 

Steve groans, his super senses attaching to the smell as he grabs your head and pushes you towards his center, watches in adoration as your face inhales him, drinks him in. 

Then your mouth takes over. 

Your tongue sucks his tip, flickering over his hole before your jaw goes lax, opens wider for him. You hum content as he pushes himself into you, violating your space, tongue smashed to the basement of your mouth, teeth pulled back as you begin to breathe slowly through your nostrils. 

You loved pleasuring your man, loved to worship him but admittedly, he was a lot to take in. 

Too much it always felt. 

It’s on a particular stroke that his top hits the back of your throat that has you gagging, your hands naturally trying to push him away. 

He tsks, catching your wrists, crossing one over the over as he continued to push himself into you, 

“Nuh uh sweetheart we talked about this. You’re going to let me fuck this wet mouth, going to cum all over that pretty little face of yours.”

You try to focus on his words, on the way he praised you and not on the weight of his penis, the way your eyes tested  uncontrollably as he moved in and out of your mouth. Just when you didn’t think you could bare anymore, when your gagging was taking over the low hums of contentment, you feel Steve’s hip buckle as he pulls out of you. 

“Open wide.” He whispers and you nod, widening your mouth and leaning your head back, lashes kissing your cheeks. 

“Awww fu…..fuck.” Steve whispers hands clutching the strands of your hair as he pumped himself to orgasm. Seconds later you're flooded with him - a twisty tango of salt and something that could only be defined as Steve. You moan, nearly gagging as it floods your mouth, 

                                                   your tongue,

                                                           your nose,

                                                                    your eyes, 

                                                                            your cheeks. 

When he is done he strokes your face, gasping for air as he tsks, 

“Look at how much of a fucking mess you are. All dressed up in my cum.” 

He walks away, leaves you and his presence leaves you cold, wanting you to wash away the leftover gift he has bestowed onto your face. You want to wipe your face, to rid it off the natural mask it has been decorated in  but you're only wearing a dress, the thick spaghetti straps not enough to cleanse yourself of him. 

Seconds later your face is warm. Him, washing it off you tenderly, whispering in your ear all the while, 

“Now show me how much you want to fight for this cock.” 

When you’re able you blink your eyes open, drink in the way his indigo eyes have gone completely dark, the red sweatshirt thrown off of him. Steve was beautiful, anyone wouldn’t deny it. His arms were thick, muscled, scarred from the many battles he’s endured for over 100 years. Every part of him was hard, rugged - scars over skin that healed back perfectly, trying to disguise the damage. Building up the physical walls to his internal pain. 

You loved him so much. 

Your hand dances over his abdomen and he groans, relishing in your touch. In the adoring way your hands splayed over him. 

God he loved you so much. 

“Strip outta that dress. From now on - you  only wear it when I’m around.” he barely lets out and you nod, obediently. 

Demanding. 

Needy. 

He moves back to the lounge chair in your room, takes a seat. You note the blindfold to his side but that's it as your hands move to find your straps shakily, eyes on him. 

You don’t know why you get so nervous stripping in front of him. 

You knew he adored every inch of your body as much as you did his. Every curve, ever scar, every freckle - he had cherished lovingly. He made a point to tell you every second he could and yet in front of him, like this, you still got shy. Afraid you weren’t good enough. 

He hated that he made you insecure when you were the true goddess of his eye. 

The first strap rolls down the softness of your skin, then the second. You slowly pull them down your torso, your breast springing free and his eyes tighten. You see his otherwise flaccid penis begin to harden but that's all the response you get it. You push the dress  down your body, slowly, eyes never leaving his until its on the floor and you’re in nothing but your underwear. 

“Now those.” his voice is dry, gruff and you nod as you bite your lip, begin to push them down as well. 

When you’re done you are in nothing and your hands move to cross in front of your soft belly. 

“No.” he says and you stop, breathing out uncomfortably. This was his punishment, this was how he was going to make you pay for all the sassy comments on the night. 

In nakedness. 

He drinks you, the seal to his erection springing up toward his torso and you try to fight the blush that heats up your face, feels like it takes over your body. 

To be so open with someone so lovely that loved you was cruelty and he knew it. 

“Lay down,” he demands a second later before pausing, “And throw this on.” 

You watch as the blindfold sails in the air and lands in your hands, perfectly like everything he does, and you nod. You take the delicate strings and place it over your eyes until darkness takes over. Then, carefully, you move backwards until the backs of your knees hit your bed. You take your time moving onto your shared  bed, your breath hitching in anticipation. 

“Lay on your stomach sugar.” the voice comes from another place in the room but you obey, curious to see what he has in store for you as you roll onto your stomach, your face falling into the bedsheets. 

It smelled like you - a tad musky from when you got off thinking of Steve the night before  - and him, clean laundry and the spunky musk that had been on you minutes earlier and you wondered how many times he had gotten off waiting for you - wondering where you had gone off too before the natural investigator searched for you. 

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you forget about your current situation, on the verge of falling asleep when you feel heat caress up and down your back. You seethe, your head lifting as Steve whispers, 

“Relax sugar, going to work out those knots before you ride this fucking cock.” 

You’re unsure what he means - he had just poured fucking wax on your back you were sure of it - before his hands are moving up and down your skin. The wax gives way to something smoother, like oil, and before you can protest your body is hostage to Steve’s hands. They work you - up and down - your shoulders, your back, your buttox, all the way down to your legs. When he's done he flips you over but this time you’re ready for the hot wax that falls on your stomach - that he massages off of you and plays with your breast, before his mouth latches onto a nipple, groaning in desire. 

“Missed these fucking tits of yours. Missed this ass and your pussy. Did you miss me sweetheart? Did you miss my cock? I know you did, can smell you on our sheets. Missed me pounding you dumb?” 

All you could do is whine as he whispers into your skin, his tongue flickering over nipples before biting down, right before your left. 

Then he’s moving lower,

                                     lower,

                                              and lower.

Until his mouth hovers over your center. He inhales you, groans, bites his lip before he's pushing himself into you, massaging your breast and you lift your body, grip the sheets as he presses his tongue between your folds, draws a long lick up to your clit. It tickles and burns, his beard brushing against the tender flesh of your thighs and you sigh contently as your hand finds his hair, guiding him through another lick. 

“Oh sweetheart.” he whispers as he pulls away, presses a kiss on your mound before slapping it, causing you to yelp. 

“Later. After you’ve learned your lesson.” 

He pulls away and you’re fully expecting to be greeted with his cock but instead, seconds later you're being lifted in the air, causing you to squeal. He slaps your ass, 

“Control yourself.” he mutters lowly and you clamp your mouth together as he places you on the ground. You hear him move past you, sitting down in what you can only imagine is the lounge chair again before his fingertips are finding your hips. 

“Come ‘er.” he guides you until you’re straddling him, directing your hands onto his shoulders before he possessively  places his hands on your hips. 

“Want you to ride me blind sweetheart. Want you to show me who you belong to, want you to be a blind little slut while you bring yourself to orgasm.” 

You whine - it sounded absolutely delicious what he wanted but you’re unsure about doing it blind. How would you know where he was? 

You try anyways, blindly starting to squat where you think he is. He helps, directing you towards your prize and you both moan happily as you fall on top of him, him sheathing your insides like a key in a lock. Your walls flutter around him naturally, like it was meant to breathe around his manhood and he moans as his face falls into your chest, before muttering, 

“Show me who I belong to.” 

It's awkward at first, you don't deny that. You rock against him uncertainty, your legs not used to this position and slipping against the slick carpet. He helps guide you until a particular thrust captures your g spot and you throw your head back, moaning, your nails biting into the strong muscles of his shoulder. 

You steady yourself on the floor, snapping your hips and imaging how he looked right now. Meanwhile, Steve had found your breast and beyond teasing your nipples he keeps his hands to himself, drinking in the way you take control. His beard tickles your breast as he praises you, his hands finding the straps to your blindfold and pulling it back. 

The contrast hurts your eyes and you blink a few times before you drink in the way his dark eyes watch you and you bite your lip, grind into him deeper. All the while he praises, 

“That's right. Fuck my cock the way a little slut should, fuck me until you come and cant move. Fuck me until I have nothing else to give you.”

It's a stark contrast,  this Steve but you liked it. You liked when he let go and discounted the scars on his chest, the ones that were bruised a blue and purple sore and painful though he’d never let on. He needed to be this man, the one that could get all his disappointment and hurt and pain out in this way - pleasure twisting with pain. 

When his hand moves to your throat at a particular good thrust you know that he’s had a bad mission. 

A few.                    Bad.                        Missions. 

You can barely get words out in the way he dominates you, riding against your strokes and his hand gripping at the delicate skin 

Steve could snap your throat in half, you always think of that as he gives you a gentle squeeze and you rock against him, his shaft hitting against your clit causing you to purr and move your head back. 

He can’t stay in control anymore. 

He keeps one arm around your neck,  your sweet Steve, while the other finds your hips, begins to drive them into you. It's on a particular strong stroke that you feel your body unnerving, no longer to keep pace on your own, 

“Steve….I ….I...” 

“Yeah baby. You gonna cum for me?  

You’re unable to answer. 

All seven trillion nerves in your body bursting into life, giving way to the way your walls flutter around Steve causing him to groan as you fall back on your own. He prolongs it, releases your neck to play with your clit and just when you didn’t think you could feel any more pleasure you’re hit with another orgasm, one that causes you to screech out a noise Steve has never heard before. 

He watches the way your body erupts in goosebumps, before it involuntarily shakes and your milking him without being consciously aware. It drives him over the edge, the leftover cum stain on the side of your mouth, the way your eyes have rolled back and grip for him, the fluttering of your walls around him. He hollers, fills you up with his cum as he pulls you toward him, hips jerking up as you milk him for all that he is worth. 

When it's over you're both looking at each other, a sheen of sweat covering you both before you bend down to kiss him, nose nudging his own as you whisper, 

“I love you.” 

He smiles against your mouth as he whispers back, 

“I love you too. But you’re mine. Don’t forget that.” 

You smile as you kiss him again, nodding. 

“Of course.”  you whisper against his lips, “Just like you belong to me.” 

________

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[moonlightoverthehorizon]

compilation of my favorite otp prompts 9

tag

dumb otp AUs [x]

“You always said it looked like you were blushing when you talked to me because of the heat but I just saw you talking to someone else and your face looked fine so what is the truth” au

“I was goofing around with your phone while you were in the bathroom and why do you have heart emojis next to my contact name” au

WEREWOLF AU’S [x]

“you being part dog has its perks, mostly for me because whenever i toss something away your eyes follow it and you perk up like you want to chase it but restrict yourself and its honestly the cutest fucking thing ive ever seen”

“babe you know i love you and i would give up my life for yours but i sWEAR TO GOD IF YOU GIVE ME ONE MORE DOG TOY FOR MY BIRTHDAY IM GONNA PUNCH YOU SQUARE IN THE FACE”

a werewolf getting personally offended when someone says they’re not a dog person

“as a werewolf i can personally talk to dogs and boyohboy does ur little pug have some tea to spill…"

“alternatively, i find you to be really superduper adorable and whenever i come over your little dog goes off on rants to me about the cute embarrassing stuff that you do when your home alone and honestly I wake up every day for these chats”

“when I saw you climbing out of the stream I was fishing in dirty, wet, and naked, I assumed you had just survived some kind of intense mob hit or something but really you had just detransformed from a werewolf after you were playing in the water trying to catch a fish, and ultimately failing. nice ass, by the way.”

one cannot have enough of cute and random aus so here have some more [x]

“You’re my roommate who’s super cute and it’s the middle of the night and you’re cramming for your exams in your flannel pajamas and disheveled hair and it’s becoming increasingly hard for me not to kiss you” AU.

“It’s Valentine’s Day and I’m single and you want to cheer me up but you can’t cook nor bake to save your life so you make me hot chocolate instead and it is delicious and I think I love you???” AU.

“You’re the jerk-face customer that keeps on thumbing through their phone while ordering their drink so I exact revenge by spelling your name wrong on your cup and drawing phallic pictures on your coffee” AU.

“Our mutual friend invites us to go shopping with them and it’s kind of awkward and now you’re pushing them around the mall in a shopping cart and you’re both screaming like excited children and I’m paying the cashier and pretending I don’t know either of you” AU.

“You and I are both baristas at a coffee shop and one day I step out of the café to take a break and walk in on you gleefully drawing phallic pictures on the chalkboard outside that no one pays attention to so what are you doing?” AU.

“We’re both strangers sitting in the same booth at an eatery because all the other booths are full and you’re drawing smiley faces on your plate with ketchup and wow your concentrated frown is cute” AU.

“I’m sick so you make me chicken soup and I’m really grateful but I’ve also seen you read books on magical spells and potion-making so I’m not sure if I should drink your soup in case it turns me into a toad” AU.

“There’s a scrawny black cat in our neighborhood that hates everyone and everything but follows you around for some reason and I see you pet it and feed it fish fries are you a witch” AU

BAKING IDEAS [x]

Person A and Person B decorating cookies/cupcakes/etc. together and Person A’s turn out looking amazing while Person B’s look like a toddler did them.

Person A trying to show Person B how to perfectly crack an egg, but Person A messes up and makes a big mess.

Person A tipping a bowl of meringue mixture above Person B’s head to prove that it’s ready but it turns out that it’s not actually ready and spills all over Person B’s head.

Person A really struggling to open a jar but not letting Person B help them until they eventually give up and Person B gets it open on the first try.

AU prompts i wish i was talented enough to write part 2 [x]

it’s 2 am and i can’t sleep so i grab a book and go lay on my roof, but who knew i had a hot neighbor who does the same thing when he can’t sleep

omg please wake up i can’t lose you please don’t die... oh you’re not dying? this is awkward

we recently started sharing a flat but one of the showers are broken and we run out of hot water quickly... no we can’t shower together!

i moved to a new city about a month ago and my coworker sets me up on a blind date and it turns out my date is my ex... this is awkward

i show up late to the school assembly but there’s no seats and you offer up your lap to make fun of me with your friends but you didn’t think i’d actually sit on your lap and i think you might have a little problem down there ;)

we dated years ago and one day i’m going through my old stuff and i found some of your old stuff i kept and i found all the romantic old letters you used to write me but i remember i never read the last letter cus i didn’t want us to be over but i end up reading the letter now

[cammi-writes]

Title: Puppy Love

Parts: part 1 | part 2

a/n | warnings: gun violence, descriptions about blood, torture, death | alternate universe where Steve never went back in time and Tony never fucking DIED. 

Fandom: MCU

Pairings: Howard Stark x Reader , Bucky Barnes x Reader , Steve Rogers x Sister!Reader

Tag List: message me if you want to be tagged

The team sat in the main living space at the compound going about their daily lives. Not one hearing the light taps of feet making her way towards them. 

This woman had been smart enough to sneak her way into the highly guarded compound without setting off F.R.I.D.A.Y’s intruder protocols. 

If it was anyone else, they would have sneaked into the arsenal they had. Or  they would have tried to get into Tony Stark’s lab. 

But not this woman. This woman had bigger things in mind. She needed help from the strongest forces in the world. The Avengers. 

Though she had known the great Captain America before he was, well, Captain America. She knew him when he was still scrawny little Steve Rogers. 

“Mr. Stark. I don’t want to alarm you but there seems to be an unknown guest in the building” Friday’s voice broke out as the woman made her way behind the team. 

The team turned their attention to the woman, fully ready for a fight... Until they saw her face. 

“Aunt Peggy?” Tony was the first to speak. 

“Peggy?” Steve’s voice broke. 

“Hello Tony, Steve” Peggy smiled. 

“How are you- How?” Steve stumbled over his words, keeping himself on edge. HYDRA had used Bucky against him in the past, what if they were using Peggy as well?

“Well... That’s a long story” Peggy sighed. 

“You were old. You had Alzheimer’s..” Tony’s eyebrows furrowed at the sight of his father’s best friend, young and healthy. “You died.”

“I did” Peggy nodded. “But I was brought back” 

“Brought back?” Sam looked wary. Unsure of what they were supposed to do. 

“I understand that this is confusing. And for you all to understand, you’re going to have to listen without the worry that i’m here to kill you” Peggy was starting to feel her own survival instincts kick in. 

“Well I’m sorry if we’re all a bit on edge with the fact that a dead person is back from the grave” Clint spoke up, earning a glare from Mrs. Carter. 

“Have you ever heard of Project Regen?” Peggy asked the group. All confused but one. 

“Vaguely. From listening in on my father when I was a kid” Tony spoke, still keeping Morgan and Pepper behind him. 

“Howard was working on a serum for decades. A serum to reanimate the dead. To bring them back to a point in their life where they were the strongest. Physically and mentally” Peggy elaborated and when the team didn’t reply she continued. “He had thought he had reached a breakthrough the week before his death. We believed that, that was one of the reasons he was assassinated.” 

“You’re saying that Howard Stark was trying to create Zombies?” Nat raised her eyebrows. 

“He was trying to right his wrongs. Bring back the ones that died before their time. The ones that he blamed himself for” Peggy’s frowned deepened at the memory of her close friend being so eaten up by grief. 

“Me?” Steve raised his eyebrows. 

“No. Howard had made an educated guess that if your body was intact, the super soldier serum would preserve your body and brain. He was right. He just wasn’t here to see that he was.” 

The guilt that swallowed Bucky was physically showing as he remembered the way Howard spoke his name as he snapped his neck. 

“So who was he trying to bring back?” Bucky asked. 

“I need to show you, for you to understand” Peggy pulled a device. “It’s a memory broadcaster. I need you to see what I remember for you to understand why Howard was the way he was” 

Tony nodded when nobody else replied. 

“It’s very simple. These attach to my temples and...” Peggy closed her eyes after attaching the final piece to her forehead. 

“Is it gonna-” Rhodes was cut off by the small light on Peggy’s forehead, then the room was transformed around them. 

“Y/n, are you okay?” Peggy asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You spoke calmly. Your heels clicking on the busy New York street. 

“I know you had feelings for him-”

“Peggy. I never had feelings for him” You laughed. “I won’t stay loyal to a dead man but I will never put myself in the position I was when I found out he was gone. Howard and I were nothing but well what we were. There was no love there” 

“Y/n... We still don’t know if Bucky’s dead.” Peggy frowned at your blatant disregard for the information you guys had learned several months ago. 

“Oh yes, that’s right” You spoke sarcastically. You both were now standing still on the busy sidewalk. “He might be a mindless assassin working for HYDRA. How could I have forgotten?” 

Peggy stayed silent and you sighed. 

“Even if SHIELD is right. If he is out there doing the things they suspect him of doing. That’t not him. It may be his body but his mind is long gone. And I don’t think their will be any way to salvage what he lost. So he’s dead. And I’m okay with that now” You felt the hole in your heart slowly return as you spoke about Bucky that way. 

“I just.. I remember the way you were when you found out that he was gone” Peggy spoke solemnly at the memory of your heart wrenching sobs.

“That was a long time ago. I’ve been through a lot since then. The torture the military manipulated me into volunteering for to recreate the super soldier serum. The missions we’ve been on together. We’ve lost a lot of people. I’ve lost parts of myself. Now the pain of losing him and Steve are nothing but a distant memory” 

Peggy went to speak, but another voice cut her off. 

“Y/n!” Both of your eyes snapped towards Howard. 

His eyes met yours and he rushed down the steps of his house and down the sidewalk to you. 

“Y/n she meant nothing to me” Howard pleaded with you. 

“Howard-”

“No- you need to know that I love you” 

“Howard. If you love me you’re foolish” You laughed innocently. “But I know you’re just scared that I’m upset. But I’m not. We both used each other and I never expected commitment from you because that wasn’t what I was offering either.”

Howard stayed silent and you laughed. 

“I’ll see you at the lab” And then Howard watched you walk down the sidewalk and get into a taxi. 

“I really do love her” Howard turned towards Peggy and she shook her head. 

“Then you are foolish” 

“How do I prove it to her, Peg?” Howard ran a hand through his hair. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have half naked women in your house when you know we’re coming over” 

The scene melted down around the team, leaving all of them confused. 

“Who was that?” Nat asked. 

“My sister” Steve spoke solemnly. He had spent a lot of his time thinking about his little sister and what she had been through after his death. 

He never told anyone but he still carried the letter you wrote to him after Bucky’s death, telling him to please come home safe. 

“I didn’t.. I didn’t know that she even knew Peggy and Howard” Bucky was feeling a range of emotions right now. From anger and jealousy that his girl had been with Howard Stark in such a way, to guilt and shame that he had hurt you like that. 

“They must have helped her after we...” Steve trailed off as a new scene molded around them. 

“They would make a cute couple” Daniel glanced at you and Howard slow dancing on the dance floor. 

“He hasn’t been with another woman since last year when she basically told him that she didn’t want a serious relationship with him” Peggy commented. Still astonished that her friend actually gave up his womanizer ways. 

“They look pretty serious to me” Daniel grinned as Howard gave you a kiss on the cheek and wondered off the dance floor. 

You walked towards Peggy and Daniel with a blush on your face. 

“Are you okay Y/n?” Daniel laughed at your stunned impression. 

“He told me that... that he’s going overseas for work” You gulped. “And he wants me to come with him...”

The team barely had time to react as the next scene from Peggy’s memory played. 

“I’m asking her to marry me” Howard shuffled nervously in front of Peggy. 

“When?” Peggy asked. 

“Tonight at the gala” Howard smiled. “I think it’s about time. We’ve been together for three years. Five if you count the two years she tricked herself into believing that she couldn’t love anymore”

“Congratulations, Howard” Peggy smiled and pulled him into a hug. 

“Don’t congratulate me yet” Howard laughed but Peggy heard the fear behind his humor. He was terrified that you would run away. “I need your advice first” 

“What is it?” Peggy asked. 

“I don’t know which ring to use” Howard pulled out two boxes. 

One, holding a brand new beautifully cut diamond engagement ring. Something that must have cost him tens of thousands of dollars. 

The other was an older looking ring. 

“It’s her mothers” Howard explains. “She mentioned that she had always wanted to have it. But... it’s the ring Sgt. Barnes used to propose” 

“Oh” Peggy furrowed her eyebrows. “I think you should use the new one for now because I know that she loves you and she wants to be with you forever. But that ring might scare her. Especially now that we’ve lost track of the Winter Soldier project” 

Howard nodded, a frown on his lips. But it slowly morphed into a smile. 

“Hopefully by tomorrow at this time, we’ll be planning our wedding” 

The night went on without a hitch. Until around 8pm. 

“Do you recognize that man?” Peggy’s eyes followed the unfamiliar man making his way through the crowd, towards the dance floor where you and Howard were dancing. 

Howard hadn’t proposed yet but he had mentioned to Peggy that he was going to do it on the dance floor. 

“There’s a lot of Howard’s foreign business partners here tonight” Jarvis explained, but Peggy had a bad feeling. One that she was right to have. 

It’s like it happened in slow motion. 

Howard pulled out the engagement ring, at the same time the man pulled out his firearm. 

“Howard” You spoke quietly, still ignorant to what was about to happen. 

The click of the gun, both of you turning towards the assassin.

The loud bang and the chaos. 

Your killer was able to slip into the crowd going unnoticed. 

“Baby” Howard held his hand to the wound on your chest. 

Your blood stained your white gown and Howard’s hands. 

You tried to speak but all that came out was a gargling sound and blood dripped out. 

“Baby please” The tortured sound of Howard’s voice broke everyone’s heart. “Please hold on. I need you. I love you” 

The whole room was silent as the scene melted away. 

The looks on Bucky and Steve’s face showed it all. They didn’t want to see that. 

“Why did she show us that?” Bucky whispered, the anger in his voice was there. “Why the hell did you show us that?”

Steve grabbed Bucky before he could get to Peggy. A new scene started to unfold. 

“Howard?” Peggy’s voice was soft as she opened the bedroom door. 

The stench of whiskey was potent and Howard was in bed. Unlike him for a Monday afternoon. Usually he would be at his lab. Working on inventions. 

“Howard it’s time to get up” Peggy sounded like she was in pain. 

“Why?” Howard’s voice broke. He had been crying. “There’s no point anymore” 

“She wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself” Peggy’s words were filled with her own pain for losing you. 

“She’s dead. She doesn’t want anything” Howard’s words were bitter with loss. 

“Howard don’t say that” Peggy shook her head. 

“It’s the truth” Howard sat up, giving Peggy a full view of his tear stained face. “There’s no hope for her like the hope we had for Steve and Sgt. Barnes. We hoped to find Steve. We hoped to get Sgt. Barnes back from those Nazi bastards. But Y/n... She’s gone. I felt her take her last breath. I heard her struggle to speak. I felt her blood pour out into my hands”

Peggy had her own tears in her eyes as he spoke. 

“I don’t even know what she was trying to tell me” Howard cried out. 

Peggy made her way over to him and hugged him tight, feeling his tears pour onto her shoulder. 

“She shouldn’t have fell for me” Howard pulled away with a bitter look. “It’s my fault she’s dead” 

“No it isn’t-”

“I hesitated. I should have pushed her out of the way. I should have protected her the way Bucky would have protected her. I should have given my life for hers-”

“And do what? Destroy her the way Bucky’s death destroyed her? She would have been destroyed. You did nothing wrong. HYDRA wanted her dead. They were wrong. Not you”  Peggy persisted. 

“We shouldn’t have let them go on that mission” Howard was moving erratically now. “If we never let them go. If we trained them better. Anything then Sgt. Barnes would be alive and he would have been able to protect her the way I couldn’t” 

“Howard. Howard” Peggy tried to calm him down. “Listen to yourself. You sound crazy” 

“He deserved to be with her. Not me” Howard cried out.

“You both deserved her at different times of your lives, Howard” Peggy grabbed his hand. “Honestly I believe that she loved you more than she ever could have loved Sgt. Barnes” 

Howard scoffed at the idea. 

“She loved him as a teenager. When love was nothing but flowers and chocolates. She loved him. She did. But it was a puppy love. She loved you as a woman. Knowing what she could lose and the pain she could feel. She chose to fall for you. To be with you” 

Howard stared at Peggy in wonderment at her theory. 

“She chose to risk everything to be with you. I think that’s more than she ever did with Sgt. Barnes” 

Howard stayed silent before standing straight. 

“I’m going to fix this, Peg” 

And then he walked into the bathroom, shutting the door. 

The light on the device turned off and Peggy’s eyes opened. 

“I don’t... I don’t” Steve sputtered. 

“Howard created Project Regen to bring her back because he blamed himself.” Peggy sighed. 

“After your disappearance, she was a wreck. She was working 3 jobs to support herself. On the verge of homelessness. The military approached her. They said they needed a test subject who was nearly identical to your genetics to recreate Project Rebirth. They tortured her for months. And she tried to back out but they kept her against her will” Peggy sighed. “Howard found out. Saved her. But she was altered in different ways. She worked for SHIELD because they were afraid of her capabilities” 

“The United States Military did that?” Sam covered his mouth and Peggy nodded. 

“The three of us were close. They were closer. They had a fling for about 2 years before she went off with him to Europe for work. They came back a year later official. And then she died” Peggy explained. “She was a threat to HYDRA so they eliminated her” 

Steve ran a hand down his face. 

“Howard spent years working on Project Regen. It slowed down when he met Maria and had you, Tony. But he never stopped. About 2 weeks before he died, he mentioned that he was ready to start animal trials” Peggy explained. “Then he was dead and I couldn’t find any of the work he had on the project” 

“I’m sorry” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not following.”

“HYDRA stole everything he had on Project Regen and perfected it. Howard, Y/n and I woke up a few years ago handcuffed to beds. Then they would take each one of us into a room and electrocute us. They were trying to brainwash us” Peggy explained. “Then the snap happened. Enough of the guards dusted and we were able to escape.” 

“Everything was chaotic. We came to find you guys and you weren’t here. At some point, Howard and Y/n left. Said they were done fighting. I don’t know where they are now” Peggy sighed. 

“So what did you do?” Tony asked. 

“I kept track of what remained of HYDRA. That’s why I’m here. They were quiet for a long time until now. They’re planning something and I can’t stop it alone” Peggy eyes pleaded with the teams. 

“Okay. Okay we’ll help” Steve nodded. “But we need to find my sister” 

“And my Dad” Tony squeezed Pepper’s hand. 

“They’re both in danger” Steve glanced at Bucky who was staring out the window with a distant look on his face. 

[mothmansfriend]

theres just no place in between

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Notes:This one’s even rougher i think, I have had a mixed episode but don’t remember much of it and also my experience was way different from remus because of the kind of life i live, and mixed episodes are hard to diagnose everyone’s very different! Sorry this took so long i had a depressive episode that kinda blacked out my motivation to do anything.

Something is different this time. There’s a ringing in his ear as he screams at Roman, his older brother though only by minutes. The man in front of him is the one he knows he’s only ever been a reflection of, if he cannot break out of the mirror he will contort it. He will make sure that when Roman looks into this mirror he will see everything he could have been if their parents had just picked the other from the beginning. Roman’s voice takes an undercurrent of concern when Remus starts crying uncontrollably, but he’s angry and Roman’s concern makes him even angrier. Remus screams at the image of everything he was supposed to be and says things he doesn’t mean just to make sure that Roman sees him, not the reflection, he’s sick of the reflections. In the back of his mind something reminds him that neither of them are their parents, they aren’t to blame. Remus pretends he doesn’t know that.

Later he stares into the mirror, the lights are bright, too bright they’ve never been so bright. Something has a grip on his shoulders and the invisible hands threaten to close around his throat, he stares into the mirror and sees the bags under his eyes visible due to his lack of eyeshadow and ringing in his ears sounds more and more like screaming. It’s louder than before, his disheveled hair matches his disheveled mustache full of styling wax from days ago. It feels like the light is getting brighter and brighter. D knocks on the bathroom door asking if he’s okay. Remus jerks backwards and the lights are back to normal, the screaming has quieted to a ringing in his ear once again. Remus looks back into his own eyes and tells D he’ll be right out and turns on the sink

This time the burst of energy wasn’t fun. This time sleepless nights in the studio wasn’t an option. This time the energy in his head didn’t say ‘go’ or ‘create’ instead it whispered ‘they don't want you here’ and ‘destroy’ as he whipped in and out of euphoria and devastating anger. It was vague and fast and confusing and Remus finds himself bullying his teammates and going too far. The freshmen tip toe around him, Roman refuses to entertain his antics at all. Payton and Jared decline his invitations and look at him with concern without knowing what to say. He finds Virgil avoiding him and D more often following. Coach Thomas’s tired looks becoming more and more exhausted and frustrated and even Joan lost the hidden amusement of his antics as he was suspended for three games.

Remus also finds himself considering how easy it would be to die more than he has ever before. He has always been curious and graphic about how it could happen, but that was morbid curiosity, not this. He finds the motivation to find bridges tall enough, buildings high enough that he can sneak into, he bought rope and sharpened his knives, ends up with rope burn and covered in cuts and bruises in no time as he convinces friends and teammates that he’s never been better and scares them away in a familiar way.Yet, he has days where he can’t get out of bed and it sounds like someone is shouting at him for being so terrible and lazy now too? Nights where he can’t sleep because of his racing but they all circle back to how little everyone likes him and how easy it has been to push them away. He keeps track of the times where he’s come to realize he doesn’t remember what he's doing or how he arrived, days blend together and suddenly it's almost spring break. It doesn’t make any more sense than it did before. Only now, it scares him a little.

This is their senior year. Remus knows he has less than two months now to graduation but his grades are falling fast and he can’t bring himself to care, or tell anyone. He’s handing in half finished assignments only working when D and Logan can catch him and drag him into whatever classroom they broke into for their study sessions. He gets lost listening to Logan explain a concept to him again, he was offered a fidget toy after he broke his pen when he spaced out that at least prevented more damage, but couldn’t help this irrational irritation that followed. He finishes the assignment that night, but still doesn’t feel even a little proud of himself for it. The guilt of making Logan and D spend almost the whole evening on a little assignment he could’ve done himself lingers as he lays in bed so exhausted, but his veins feel like they're full of buzzing bees, each one begging him to do something, anything, but nothing gives him the satisfaction he needs.

Remus grins for the first time in weeks, filled with complete euphoria as he stands on a bridge staring down at the dark water reflecting the orange and blue sunset, wind in his hair and one of his new friends nervously ask if they’re sure this is safe. There are four people including Remus holding onto the bridge. The woman, probably a year or two younger with scars up her arms and a t-shirt that belongs to a boy she dated years ago yells over the wind that she does this all the time, tell them, she nudges a boy with coloured hair who repeats what she said and climbs over the guard with Remus and the girl who’s name Remus forgets. Remus isn’t worried and stops listening as he begins bouncing in place, the bridge clearly much taller than the ones he’s jumped off of with the team when they go out for the summer, but that fact being exactly what thrills him so much. He vaguely hears the other friend’s concern increase and their refusal to jump. Remus feels his hair whip around in the wind as he dramatically rolls his eyes, “If you wanna be a pussy no one’s stopping you, but you can’t stop us either. Quit whining,” he sneers right before he kicks himself off the bridge. Remus savours the butterflies in his veins as he’s freefalling in the air, these few seconds feel like hours and as he finally plunges into the cold water entirely submerged and he hears as the other two land in the water. His lungs beg for air and he resurfaces just as the pain becomes unbearable and he laughs maniacally until the others resurface and continues to laugh floating in soaked clothing.

It’s spring break and Remus is free. A week without classes and he’s decided to let go and let out these weird moments he’s been having. He bounces on the beat letting the music vibrate through him as he dances with another stranger whose name he never even asked. The beat pumps through the hardwood floor of the frat house Payton brought a few teammates to.

Remus loses track of time and knows it when his current dance partner dragged him into the bathroom where a few people were crushing pills in a ziploc bag on the bathroom counter. Remus has a half baked conversation with someone who barely replies while his dance partner starts lining up the now crushed substance Remus misses the name of several times. Once one rows gone Remus is shoved forward and listens to the little advice someone gives him that he’s too drunk to listen too, feeling so invincible, so happy, so free Remus has a lazy grin on his face as he agrees moments before Payton rushes in calling Remus’s name. His expression changes to something angry but also so confused as he grabs Remus’s shoulder forcing him to turn towards him as he demands to know “What the fuck are you doing!?” Remus laughs at Payton telling him to stop overreacting as Payton reminds Remus that more random drug tests are pretty likely as the season comes to an end. The argument continues as Payton’s shift from anger to concern goes unnoticed by Remus.

There’s blood dripping from his nose to the cement floor of someone’s shitty basement suite. It’s almost rhythmic, he is sitting leaning on a couch he’s never seen before, or maybe he has as he tries to focus his eyes. There’s a shattered window with plastic bags taped over it that lets the cool air float over him making him aware of something wet dripping from his hairline, Remus lifts his head up wobbling a little as he wipes his nose with the back of his hand which comes off bloody and does the same with his forehead that reveals more blood. His head feels so foggy and he wonders if he let himself lose the fight or if someone jumped him. He knows what hockey has done for him physically and doubts some scrawny white twink with a nicotine addiction among others could actually take him down. He looks around and sees people asleep across the floor in various states and aesthetics of dress, half-dried blood splatters on the floor on the other side of the door implies that it was probably a fight that didn’t happen long ago. No clue what time it is, he stands and stumbles realizing that he is not only super drunk but clearly on something else he doesn’t remember making the decision to take. Remus pats his pockets down using the shitty yellow lamp without a shade on it to double check and finding his wallet and his phone with a 7% charge. Remus sees his reflection in a shattered mirror on the floor and feels like he hasn’t seen himself in months. For a moment he remembers watching Roman waste away, remembers the doctor’s appointments, the effort it took to force Roman to eat but the way he came out healthier in the end. This shattered reflection shows him something he doesn’t like, and he makes a decision.

[elviefm]

is that [JOE KEERY]? no, that’s just [ELVIE CROFT]. [HE/HIM] is [TWENTY-FIVE] years old and is a [NIGHT JANITOR AT CURTAIN CALL]. rumor has it they’ve been in town for [ONE MONTH]. on a good day, they’re [JOCUND & PERSPICACIOUS]. but watch out! they can also be [SCATTERBRAINED & OBSTREPEROUS]. [SCRAWNY BY WALLOWS] plays in my head whenever i think of them. can’t wait to see them around Springhill! [sam, 23, est, she/her]

hey there demons! *ba dum tss* i’m sam and this is one of my favorite muses ever so without further ado, character info is under the cut and please message me if you would like to plot!

i. stats

ｆｕｌｌ ｎａｍｅ：elvin tupelo croft

ｐｒｅｆｅｒｒｅｄ ｎａｍｅｓ：el, elvie, spooky guy

ｈｏｍｅｔｏｗｎ：salem, massachusetts

ｄａｔｅ ｏｆ ｂｉｒｔｈ：october 31st, 1994

ａｇｅ： twenty - five

ｚｏｄｉａｃ：scorpio

ｏｒｉｅｎｔａｔｉｏｎ：demisexual

ｏｃｃｕｐａｔｉｏｎ：night janitor at curtain call movie theater

ｐｏｓ． ｔｒａｉｔｓ：jocund, perspicacious, loyal, open - minded.

ｎｅｇ． ｔｒａｉｔｓ：scatterbrained, obstreperous, flippant

ii. history

elvin tupelo “elvie” croft was born in salem, massachusetts ( yes, really ) on halloween day ( yes, really ). he's an only child and his father is the district attorney for essex county, massachusetts while his mother owns a small local business that sells witchcraft supplies such as crystals, herbs, grimoires, and more. interesting fact: she’s the descendant of an accused witch, meaning that elvie is as well.

as it turns out, beneath of the surface of the few tourist attractions that it has to offer, salem has a small town, stuck in the past vibe. it’s the sort of place where everyone knows everyone all their lives because no one ever leaves and no one ever moves in. he grew up in this…eccentric…environment, living in the same house all his life and only ever leaving to visit his grandparents in boston.

he was five years old when he saw his first horror movie ( an apathetic teenage babysitter let him stay up long past his bedtime to watch nightmare on elm street ) and from that moment on he was HOOKED.

when he started school, two things about him became apparent: 1) he was highly intelligent and 2) he struggled greatly with tasks such as sitting still and staying focused. he was tested ( a few times, much to his irritation ) and it turns out that he has a genius level iq and adhd.

he could have been one of those child prodigies who finished high school at the age of ten and then college at the age of fourteen, BUT his parents decided that they didn’t want him to miss out on the experience of going through school with peers his own age.

HOWEVER, as the smartest kid in class with glasses and braces and an insatiable obsession with all things horror and halloween, he…was picked on. mercilessly. he never had many friends, but he was content to go right home after school and spend the rest of the day reading comic books or watching horror movies or researching local urban legends and paranormal stories.

so, when he got to his senior year of high school, he was a shoe - in to be named class valedictorian ( he was ) and he was even getting ivy league offers. of course, his parents mainly his father were really pushing him to attend college and elvie, genius level iq and all…didn’t want to go. he had a van ( a turquoise monstrosity painted to look like the mystery machine ) and he just wanted to drive. alas, his dad was absolutely NOT having it.

he attended harvard for both his pre law and law school studies, breezed through classes, graduated with honors at the top of his class and once he passed the bar exam there were countless job offers waiting for him. elvie ignored them all and finally embarked on that road trip he had been meaning to take.

he’s been on the road for about a year now and he’s traveled all over the country. he often breezes into a town or a city, lives in his van, and takes up some odd jobs to squeeze a few dollars out of before he inevitably gets fired for messing up or not taking the work seriously or getting high on the job. he arrived in springfield a month ago, continuing his pattern or having fun and exploring somewhere he’s never been before.

iii. extras

his name is elvin but basically no one ever calls him that. his own parents don’t even particularly like the name. long story. most people call him elvie and some who are super close to him just call him el.

BIG RYAN BERGARA ENERGY. a huge believer in the paranormal and urban legends, and one of his favorite things to do when he goes somewhere new is check out the local cemeteries and haunted locales. unlike ryan, the poor guy he’s definitely NOT a scaredy cat in fact, all his life there’s been this running joke that he doesn’t seem to be scared of anything, and who knows? maybe he isn’t.

has the most cartoonishly exaggerated boston accent that one could ever hope to hear, except he doesn’t seem to realize it at all.

10/31 blaze it he’s a HUGE stoner.

he’s got jokes. stay vigilant.

he’s OBSESSED with all things horror, halloween, and 80s. he makes a lot of film references that are often so obscure that most people don’t even catch them.

he’s a lawyer! at least in the state of massachusetts. however, this is not at all common knowledge because…

most people don’t know how smart he actually is as he intentionally plays dumb and he’s really good at it. being high all the time and his natural chaotic energy is quite helpful in hiding his intelligence. he just doesn’t like to be seen as smart, so the whole once - brilliant law student thing? not common knowledge whatsoever. he tries not to mention the college he attended by name at all, but if he has to then he lies and says that he went to salem state.

and yes, he has SO MUCH chaotic energy. he’s the kind of person who will stick a fork in his microwave just to see what would happen out of sheer boredom. he has two pet mexican redknee tarantulas named freddy and jason who he just…fucking loses track of every other day. his favorite drink is literally black coffee mixed together with a can of monster energy and 5 ( f i v e ) teaspoons of sugar. he is c h a o s. he has absolutely NO IMPULSE CONTROL whatsoever.

he has slight Daddy Issues™. slight. when he was born, his dad was hoping that he would get a star athlete kid who would go on to follow in his footsteps and one day become a successful, respectable lawyer but instead he got…elvie. he’s never outright said that he’s disappointed but he didn’t need to. elvie’s a really difficult person to rattle but every time, without fail, he ends a phone call with his dad and he’s in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

his car is this PIECE OF JUNK giant turquoise van that he painted to look like the mystery machine. her name is laurie strode.

even though he makes constant pop culture references about horror movies and the 80s, but outside of those areas he’s completely clueless about pop culture. like, he can recite the entire scripts of the shining and empire strikes back and ferris bueller’s day off word for word, but if someone tried to talk to him about the new beyonce song or the latest marvel movie he would just stare blankly.

he has a HUGE sweet tooth. his favorite food is halloween candy and his favorite candy is black licorice disgusting i know.

he takes adderall for his adhd and he’s usually good about keeping up with it. started keeping them on his person in college because he realized that his meds were getting stolen and it’s a habit he’s held onto that doesn’t really keep his shit from getting stolen.

he’s good at…A LOT of things because he’s a really fast learner. he can play the guitar, he can draw, he did drama in high school. he just has to watch someone do something once and then he can usually immediately do it himself. this skill doesn’t extend to physical activities such as sports, however. he’s terrible at those.

he’s basically a cartoon character

iv. wanted connections

best friend from salem who travels with him *will probably submit as a wc

friends

cousin ( their grandparents would probably be from boston but otherwise anything really goes for this )

his weed dealer

smoking buddies

people who don’t like him / find him annoying

i know there are a lot of business owners so : people he worked for who have since fired him for being an all around awful employee.

has stolen his adderall

maybe someone who knows how smart he really is

romantic connections!

( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with these, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )

[sweetlangdon]

Designated Driver (Michael Langdon x Reader)

Notes: What’s this?? A new Roommates fic?! This one is based on a few asks I got a while ago that involved a discussion of drunk!roommate. This one is also in Michael’s POV!

Warnings: Brief mention of vomiting. Other than that, just fluff.

Word Count: 2.6k+

It’s nearly two in the morning when Michael Langdon, ex-Antichrist—ten months and counting, as of midnight—and current roommate, hears his phone ring. The vibration from the phone shoved in the side pocket of his pants rouses the furry black lump lounging across his lap. The lump, known as “little shit,” “hell beast,” “bastard,” and other nonsense nicknames in casual conversation, lets out an indignant chirp at the disturbance, electric green eyes blinking up at Michael as though he was responsible for the cat’s interrupted sleep. Michael scowls by way of response and pushes the cat off him—he doesn’t go willingly, sinking his razor-sharp claws into Michael’s thigh before finally sliding free—to retrieve his phone.

There’s only one person who has his number, and it’s the same person who bought him the phone in the first place. Michael shakes his head at the name illuminated on his screen and the picture he snapped of you two months ago at breakfast when you still didn’t have enough coffee in you, yet. You’re flipping him off in the picture, and although you tried to act irritated about the whole thing, you’re actually smirking, and that’s why Michael loves it so much. He’ll never admit it. But it’s a fact.

“Hello?”

A rustling sound fills Michael’s ear; he waits, for a moment, but all he hears is a lot of background noise: the murmur of voices, a peal of laughter somewhere farther off, the clinking of glasses and ebb and flow of footsteps. Michael calls your name, wondering if you’d somehow dialed his phone by accident.

“…Hello?”

“Michael!” Your voice comes through the phone so aggressively, so loud, that he has to hold it away from his ear while you continue to holler his name. “Michael, are you there?”

“Yeah.” He closes his eyes and tries to summon enough patience for whatever this encounter will expect of him. He’d started to drift off before you called, but he’d been trying to stay awake until he knew you were home. He doesn’t know why. “Did you need something? Are you…okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m great,” you tell him.

You’re drunk. You know it. Michael knows it. He’s seen you drunk in the apartment when you’ve had a little too much wine. There was that one time you tried to get him drunk just to see what he was like, but to your disappointment, you found that alcohol doesn’t have the same effect on the Devil’s baby boy. Michael knows that giggly tone of voice, though, and that breezy affection you can’t keep from wandering into your tone once the booze has taken effect.

“I’m super…” You begin humming in Michael’s ear and then cut yourself off as you’re about to sing some kind of lyrics. “Hey, Michael?”

He drags a hand through his hair. “Yeah?”

“I need you,” you drawl the end of the sentence until it becomes half-whiny, half-singsong.

“Are you okay?” Michael asks again. This time, he sits up straighter, sliding close to the edge of the couch. From somewhere on the floor, two bright green eyes stare up at him expectantly. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, no,” you say, as if Michael should know this already. “I need you to pick me up. Duh.”

“Pick you…?” Michael sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. Clearly, your logic has disappeared, but he doesn’t want to try and reason with you. Not now. It’s useless.

“I can’t dri—fine, I’m coming to get you…I’ll be there in a minute. Don’t go anywhere. You hear me? Don’t go wandering off, I’ll be right there.” Michael shudders to think of the bastards crawling around this city at this time of the early morning—worse bastards than men who happened be born the Devil’s son. He wouldn’t hesitate to break his streak of good behavior if he had to tear out someone’s beating heart who dared to touch you.

“A minute?” comes your incredulous reply. “How? You can’t drive, Langdon.”

Michael laughs. A genuine, deep laugh that makes his belly ache. He has no fucking idea where it’s come from, but he’s surprised to find that feels good. “Oh, now you remember.”

It doesn’t take him long to find you. It’s not particularly difficult; he’s had more than enough time to acclimate himself to your presence and whatever aura you give off. Michael could find you anywhere. You’re like a needle in a haystack of seven billion people, but he’ll always know just you. Always you.

Transmutation, as it turns out, has its perks. Michael tries to limit his magic use where he can because some part of him knows it’s not good for his worst instincts, and another part of him thinks that maybe it’ll act like a beacon for the witches to track him by. But he can’t shun his powers altogether. He’s tried, but they’re a part of him just as much as his blond curls, whether he wants them to be or not.

He lands in an alley between a dumpster and a haphazard stack of wooden crates, which is fortunate, considering he really didn’t want to explain himself to a bar full of people. Not that any of them would remember a strange, scrawny boy with wild, golden curls just appearing out of thin air while they got themselves shitfaced. But, still. It’s one less headache. Michael shoulders his way past a small group of departing patrons into the bar, dodging a few odd stares. He knows he barely looks old enough to have a legal drink, but he does his best to jut out his chin and walk with a purposeful, confident stride. And maybe a few glares that could’ve been lethal if wielded with enough force.

It’s a nice bar, Michael thinks. He’d been expecting some shitty dive with sticky floors and a dubious clientele, but this place is…not it. For one thing, it’s packed with people in expensive suits and nice blouses and sensible heels and salaries that probably paid for yachts and whirlwind trips across Europe. They’re all still drunk and a little sloppy around the edges, though. Michael can practically see the sin that hangs in a cloud above them like cigarette smoke. The place is bigger than he expects, too: sleek, with ultramodern tables and chairs, awash in the glow of trendy industrial fixtures and neon signs.

Michael’s stomach does a somersault, dread winding down his spine with icy cold fingers, until he sees you. You’re at a table in a far corner with the last of your work colleagues, and you wave enthusiastically once your uncoordinated gaze lands on your roommate.

“Michael!” You continue waving, glassy-eyed, loud, and rather unconcerned about keeping up a level of professionalism in front of your coworkers. Then again, it’s two in the morning, and they look as plastered as you are, so Michael thinks any sort of professionalism has been checked at the door. “Over here!”

Michael ducks his head and ambles over, offering the most disarming smile that he can summon. He knows none of these people will remember him in the morning. Your coworkers and friends and acquaintances flitter in and out at a pace he can’t keep up with, and since he’s not exactly sure how permanent a fixture he’ll be in your life—even though it’s been ten months and counting—Michael doesn’t care enough to learn their names.

You all but stumble out of the cushy, dimly lit booth and drape yourself across Michael, and to his horrified surprise, plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He can feel the lipstick mark you’ve left on his skin and grimaces. You wobble a little at his side so he takes your elbow, trying not to make too much eye contact with the people still occupying the booth. It’s easy enough; half of them are glued to their phone screens, presumably calling for a ride or scoping out a secondary bar to migrate to.

“My roommate is here,” you announce to the group, who remain largely uninterested and too shitfaced to care. Michael frowns as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, hanging all over him, so close that he can smell the floral notes of your shampoo and the sweet, fruity scent of your perfume. And the booze, strong and cloying and…how many fucking drinks have you had? He doesn’t know what to do about this arrangement, exactly, except to hold onto you so you don’t fall on your ass.

“You’re the best, you know?” you continue to slur, and then you pat Michael’s cheek as though this is a thing you do all the time, but you most definitely don’t. “Michael is the best…he really is.” He tries to extricate your hand from his cheek. It doesn’t work, and he knows he’s fighting a losing battle.

You drop your voice into a conspiratorial whisper that isn’t really a whisper at all. “My roommate is the Antichrist,” you giggle, and for a moment Michael pales, ice blue eyes wide as they dart around this high end bar. It’s foolish, Michael thinks, that he’s so paranoid about your drunken announcement; if your friends don’t seem to give a single fuck about it, no one else will take it seriously. “But he’s really not. He’s not, you know? He’s too…Michael Langdon, you’re too sweet to be the Antichrist.” You lose your composure to a fit of giggles and nearly topple over, if not for Michael’s steadying hands on you. “And handsome…”

“Okay,” Michael interrupts. “Time to go.”

You declare your goodbyes to the group, who offer their own as Michael steers you through a dwindling crowd of people toward the door. Michael feels your unstable movements beside him; your tendency to wobble, which he thinks might be partly due to the heels you’re wearing. You also have a habit of trying to weasel out of his grasp and wander off in another direction entirely, but you have both arms wound around one of Michael’s, trying to drag him along.

“Where’s the car?”

Michael sighs. “We can pick up your car tomorrow. I didn’t come here in a car, remember?”

“No,” you drawl.

“Of course not.”

You hum a song Michael doesn’t recognize, and rest your head on his shoulder as you walk. Michael lets it happen because there’s little else he can do. He doesn’t look, but he can feel your gaze on him and it causes the heat to rise on his cheeks. He’s glad you’re plastered because he can feel his ears burning hotter than usual.

“Has anyone told you that your eyes are pretty?”

“No.” Michael can’t help the smirk that pulls at the corner of his lips. You’re so fucking drunk, and it’s somewhere between adorable and completely obnoxious. 

“Because they are. They’re, like, really pretty, Langdon. What shade of blue is that?”

“Come on,” Michael says. “Almost there.”

He places a hand tentatively at the small of your back to keep you steady, and somehow you take that as an invitation to drape one of your arms across Michael’s shoulders, your cheek firmly pressed against his. Once you’re in an alleyway, a safe distance from prying eyes, Michael tightens his hold on you. You’ve held hands before. There have been awkward, meaningful silences and a kiss that you haven’t properly discussed since you both let it happen. But nothing has felt more intimate than this—the two of you so close, so together, your breath fanning across Michael’s cheek, the warmth of you seeping into his clothes.

It scares him a little, how dependent you are on him right now; he’s never had this kind of responsibility. No one has ever really placed something so precious as their safety and well-being in his hands. It’s fucking terrifying.

“I’ve never done this before, but it should work,” he admits. You’re humming again, and possibly falling asleep standing up because Michael notices your eyes drifting closed. Maybe it’s for the best, he thinks. “Just…hold on, and maybe keep your eyes shut.”

In the next breath, the two of you are standing in the living room of your apartment. Michael breathes a sigh of relief—Transmutation for himself is one thing, but bringing a passenger is something else entirely. Something that, as of two seconds ago, he didn’t know for sure was possible. Michael isn’t altogether certain about the limits of his own power, or if any such limits even exist. This meant that, despite his best efforts to distance himself from his abilities, they were still growing, still gathering strength.

But that was probably a worry for another night.

“Holy shit,” Michael hears you say. You look like your eyes are about to bug out of your head, and Michael wonders if you’ll even remember your experience with Transmutation once you’re sober.

Thirty seconds after you’ve landed in your apartment, you puke all over Michael’s shoes.

He doesn’t have the energy to be angry about it, or maybe he isn’t angry about it at all. It’s not your fault, not really; Michael’s never tried out Transmutation while drunk, but he assumes maybe it’s not an altogether pleasant experience. He slips out of the shoes and helps you navigate around the mess—miraculously, your own clothes have been spared—to the bathroom.

Michael stays there, keeping your hair out of the mess, until the world is no longer spinning and your stomach has righted itself. He stays there even though you go into hysterics, crying about shoes that don’t really matter and sobbing over things Michael can’t even understand because you’re starting to not make any damn sense. He’s never been good at offering comfort, so he just sits on the floor next to you, long, lithe fingers stroking your hair, his other hand gently rubbing circles on your back. He thinks maybe it helps, a little. Or so he hopes.

“I love you, Langdon,” you say for about the fourth time. Maybe more. It’s a short trip between the bathroom and living room couch, but you’ve managed to repeat yourself while hanging all over him. Though the declaration makes Michael’s stomach somersault more than he’s willing to admit, he doesn’t take it to heart. You’re just an affectionate drunk. “I do…I mean it. I think I love you a little bit.”

“Just a little?” Michael teases.

“You’re just…you’re a big softie, Mr. Antichrist,” you tell him through another round of giggles. “Shhh…I won’t tell anyone, I promise. It’ll be our secret.”

“Because you’re so good at keeping those.”

“I am!”

“You’re really not.” You plop unceremoniously onto the couch despite Michael’s best efforts, and it makes you laugh. Then again, everything is hilarious to you right now, despite the fact that you were bawling your eyes out over Michael’s ruined shoes five minutes ago. “Lucky for us both, I don’t think anyone will believe what you said about me.”

Michael gingerly tugs off your heels. The bedroom is still off-limits, and he’s not willing to risk it even under these weird circumstances, so he gives up his bed for the night. It’s not like he’ll be getting any sleep; he knows already that he’ll be up making sure you don’t choke in your sleep or wander off or something like that. While you burrow deeper into a nest of pillows and blankets, Michael settles onto the floor in front of the couch, where the cat finally comes crawling back into his lap.

“Love you,” you drawl, again, this time in a whisper.

“Get some sleep,” Michael says as the cat sinks a claw into his leg, kneading the fabric of his pants.

“Aren’t you,” Michael hears you yawn behind him, your voice slurred and groggy and nearly unintelligible, “going to say it back?”

“Maybe when you’re sober,” he whispers. 

You’ve already fallen asleep.

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