#w/o an alarm clock

[odinsblog]

Okay… today was a lil bit rough on ya boy. Bad, but nothing too serious - if this was the worst that 2023 throws at me, I’m winning like a mf. Anyway I smiled when this happened…. I can’t access the “read more” function anymore, so y’all gon need to see the tags

[thecapricunt1616]

Damiana (c.b. oneshot)

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): “No. Just stay right like this. I can play with you, right?” He kissed your jaw gently, nipping at the sensitive part near your ear and soothing the sting with his tongue in a way that made you whine. “Yes. But I wanna feel good too” you said, voice needy already. It was quite embarrassing the effect he so easily had on you, he barely even had to try.  “Oh of course princess, y’think I’d neglect my favorite toy? When have I ever left you without makin’ sure y’feel good mm?” He kissed the base your neck right at the top of your spine, spreading your thighs with his knee, your bodies flush together. 

♡ O/S Inspo: Damiana (otherwise known as loveseed) is used to increase the intensity of sexual magick, increase magical energy, divination, dreams/clairvoyance, enhance pleasure and increase psychic abilities.

♡ Summary: You & Carmy wake up extra early on your day off for some reason, so he knows a good way to put you both back to sleep.

♡ W/C: 1,737

♡ Posted Date: 04/18/2024

♡ A/N: OMG Thank you all for 100 followers what the actual heck!!! I want to give each and every one of you a forehead smoochin, thank you so much for hanging out with me and supporting my work! As per usual my requests are alwayyys open! For Carmy x Reader & Carmy x Sydney I woke up today at the asscrack of dawn for no reason at all, and was hit with a strike of writing lightning!! Just in time for my 100 follower celebration :D!!! I hope you enjoy this smutty smutty goodness. Sidenote - Taylor is releasing an album tomorrow so I am bouncing off the walls of my iron cage and gnawing at the bars I'M SO READY!!!! ANYWAYS enjoy my friends <3

♡ Warnings for BTC: Unedited (we die like men!!!)  Breeding kink, swearing, smut smut smut, fluffy needy Carmy, established relationship NO USE OF Y/N

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡

Early mornings with Carmy were your favorite. Well - the early mornings that he wasn’t jumping in the shower even before the sun had kissed the horizon. But these mornings. 

You woke up this morning at 4:52 - it was Sunday, your favorite day. Carmy & your day. The Bear was closed, the single day a week that it was - so it meant your loving, wonderful husband could stay in bed with you until 3 if he wanted.  

He’d told you many times before if you woke before him for some reason on your sacred together day, to wake him because he didn’t want to spend a moment without you - but for now, you watch. 

It wasn’t often you saw your beloved man like this, fully at peace. Well, other then when he fucked you - but while awake he never fully looked this peaceful. 

You carefully brushed his messy curls off of his forehead, dragging your nails across his scalp gently. You just couldn’t help it, you knew how much he loved it. 

‘Mmm?’ He grumbled, his voice thick and low, husky with sleep. 

“Sorry” you whispered, smiling a bit. You couldn’t help but think of a grizzly bear when he’d make noises like that. While he was in this half asleep - half awake state, he would grunt and huff and grumble, especially on Sundays. 

Just like any other day, his internal clock was on time - and today - he has 0 alarms set. 

“No ‘s fine been up” he said softly. 

You kissed his forehead tenderly, the faintest bit of mint sticking to his breath from last night when he brushed his teeth before practically crawling to bed since he was so exhausted. 

“Bear- it’s Sunday- go to sleep” you said, gently rubbing over his bare chest with your soft palm. 

“Damn birds” he grumbled, causing you to giggle. 

“Y’know it’s the boys, actually? Because the uh…the moms. They go out before the sun, to find breakfast. And the dads are - well. Scientists theorize - that the dads are calling the moms back to the nest, like an alarm the kids are up and hungry” you said softly. 

He hums in interest, rolling on his side with his eyes still closed and gently kissing down your neck as you spoke 

“All I heard was a really good reason we don’t have kids yet” he said, voice deep and thick with sleep. 

“Yeah yeah ok Mr ‘im gonna make you a mom’ “ you imitated his horny raspy voice and he chuckled, snaking his hand under your shirt and rubbing over your stomach gently 

“I am as soon as you take this fuckin thing outta y’r arm” he gently bites down on the inside of your bicep where your implant was, sucking gently, causing you to laugh. 

“I swear to god - your hormones Carm, it's like you’re ovulating or something” you teased and he snorts a laugh into your skin 

“Not my fault you make me horny in the morning” he reached up, palming your breast and squeezing gently 

“You were horny before you woke up fucker, I feel you” you teased, wiggling into his bulge that was pressing into your ass firmly. 

He moaned softly, rolling his hips into yours “Y’gonna help me out or do I have to go shower?” He teased with a grin. 

You roll your eyes playfully “gonna make me work before the sun is even fully in the sky?” You asked and he chuckled a bit 

“No. Just stay right like this. I can play with you, right?” He kissed your jaw gently, nipping at the sensitive part near your ear and soothing the sting with his tongue in a way that made you whine. 

“Yes. But I wanna feel good too” you said, voice needy already. It was quite embarrassing the effect he so easily had on you, he barely even had to try. 

“Oh of course princess, y’think I’d neglect my favorite toy? When have I ever left you without makin’ sure y’feel good mm?” He kissed the base your neck right at the top of your spine, spreading your thighs with his knee, your bodies flush together. 

“Well there was that one time-“ you teased as he pulled his cock out 

“Oh the one time I punished you f’r bein’ a brat.” He squeezed your hip and trailed his hand around your stomach, rubbing gently before dipping his fingers in your panties, finding your clit and humming in satisfaction when you whine hotly, arching into his frame further. 

“Cause you were wearing those slutty gray sweatpants and every bitch in the grocery store was staring at your dick print” you counter, causing him to chuckle, the vibration coursing through you since you were flush to him like one being.

“mmmm and is that why you’re so wet, cause you’re thinkin’ about me wearing something slutty?” He teased rubbing slow firm circles in the way that made you writhe and squirm. 

“Stop teasing before you nut all over my back” you smirk and he gasps, feigning offense. 

“Someone is mouthy this morning” he moved the fabric to the left, rubbing his thick cock over your folds easily with your slick aiding him, moaning softly. 

“Mmmm thank you” you rest your head back on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. “Feels soooo nice.” You mumble as he slowly rolls his hips, the head of his cock teasing your clit just enough. 

It wasn’t a full rub, not enough to make you cum for a while, but more a pleasant gentle massage. You felt his hand back on your stomach, rubbing short strokes up and down as he pants, in pure quiet bliss. That was something you adored about him-  whenever you were in public, he was shy, quiet. So quiet. But when you were alone together- the man didn’t have an off switch. 

Neither did you, but yours didn’t shut off in public, either. You did enough talking for the both of you, it was what drew him to you. The only time you made him more quiet, was when he was playing with you this way in the morning. You were pretty sure it was the time, his brain hadn’t fully woken yet - but he had one thought bouncing around like a DVD video logo his cock was achingly hard. 

“I’m probably gonna fall asleep but you’ll wake me right?” You asked and all you got in response was a breathy ‘mmhmm’ 

He gently bit down on your neck, then your shoulder, then your arm, causing you to giggle and look back at him as well as you could “you wanna suck on it. Don’t you.” You teased, referring to your implant. 

Another whiny ‘mmhmm’ and he rolls his hips a bit harder, causing you to moan as his tip ruts over your clit firmer 

“So sweet.” You smiled lazily, closing your eyes once more and humming “I love this Bear y’make me feel so good” you said softly and he whimpers 

“Fuckin’ hell y’too sweet. Lettin’ me play with you like this sweetheart, the sweetest girl” he praises, pushing the hair from your messy sleep off your forehead and kissing your temple. 

“Cus’ y’the best husband” you laced your fingers together and held your hands over your stomach. 

“Mmmm y’know I fuckin love hearin’ y’say that, right?” He rasps, hips getting sloppier and rougher as he got closer to his high. 

“I do every time I say my husband on the phone you blush. It's the cutest thing that you’re still feelin’ like we’re on our honeymoon 2 whole years later” you kissed his hand sweetly. 

“Cause I’m so fuckin’ lucky. Can’t fuckin’ believe y’agreed to take my last name babe. The way you say our last name is so fuckin pretty” he said, kissing your shoulder gently

“I feel so fancy with it. Mrs.Berzatto. Berzatto is so much cooler then my maiden name.” you said 

“Fuckin hell sweetheart im so close can I please cum in you?” He begged, his voice needy and wanting

“Of course Bear Y’don’t need to ask” you said and he released your hand, placing his palm at the base of your abdomen and slipping in, filling you to the hilt. 

You whimper, back arching slightly “mmm feel’so full” you mutter, gasping as he started a quick snap of his hips, jaw falling slack. 

“It’s so fuckin hot that I can feel myself fuck you” he pressed his palm firmer into your abdomen, angling himself in a way to both feel himself better, but also slide perfectly against your gspot 

“Yeah y’get so deep bear. Y’gonna fill me up? Y’gonna knock me up? Mmm?” You whine, your own orgasm approaching fast 

“Fuck yeah I am princess sh-iiit. Fuck gonna make y’a fuckin mom” he grunts, spreading your legs further and reaching down to rub your clit making you clench around him. 

He whimpers hips stuttering as he ruts into you, completely bottoming out trying to get as deep as he can as he empty’s his huge load into you, breathing hard and remaining still inside of you while he rubs your clit in quicker circles. 

He could tell you were on the edge because of the way you were clenching and unclenching around his now overstimulated cock, he wanted to get you there so he could remain inside of you for a while. 

“That’s it, my good girl. Thank you Angel, you took me so well. Y’can always handle whatever I give you it’s so fuckin hot.  Now I’m gonna make sure y’re all taken care of, mmm? Just like I promised” he said softly into the shell of your ear before kissing your head gently. 

“I’m cumming. I’m fucking cumming - oh- fuck-“ you whine, thighs shaking as some of your mixed arousal drips down his balls to his thigh. 

“Gooood. Tha’s it, good girl” he praised, slowing his fingers to a slow rub as he worked you down. 

“Mmm that was so nice Carmy” you hummed, looking back and kissing his lips lovingly. 

“So nice princess. Thank y’for letting me” he kissed the tip of your nose gently “can I stay in a little longer” he kissed your jaw gently 

“Course- I was actually gonna ask you to. I like falling asleep like this” you laced your fingers together holding your interlocked hands over your belly.  “Y’so fuckin perfect” he mumbled into the skin of your neck.

[trashmouth-richie]

Eddie x fem! reader [vol i, vol ii, vol iii, vol iv]

⚠️trigger warnings: mentions of a exual assault, accusations, mentions of domestic abuse, teenage drinking, panic attacks etc

w/c: 7.9k

a/n: s/o to all my favorite people helping me continuously with this series! @agentmarvel @sweetsweetjellybean @jo-harrington !! 💋💋💋💋💋

You’re spinning, spinning, spinning. If you couldn’t smell your own hair products on your pillow, you would swear that you were in a dystopian world, twirling like a frisbee through a pink blossomed sky and being caught in a three headed cat's mouth.

It’s true, hangovers get worse with age, but you were only twenty one— and they’re supposed to go up from here? What happened to ‘the best years of your life’? Whoever said that should be shot and killed on site. Stupid bastard.

Opening your eyes seems like the worst idea you could do, so you don’t. You slowly let your other senses bring you back to reality. You recognized that you were in your bed. Something soft is wrapped around you and judging by the feel of the fabric between your fingers it’s your robe.

A pungent smell of sour bile presents on your breath, one whiff of it and it’s instantaneous: vomit.

Fuck, that would explain the burning in your throat and the graveling dry sensation in your mouth

Pieces of the puzzle that was last night start fitting into place in your mind.

The drinks. The shots. The food. The clinking sound of ice in Steve’s Bloody Mary as he tipped it back and the ice swam towards his teeth, is like nails on a chalkboard.

Oh Christ how there had been so many drinks. Damn Robin and her mischievous ideas for wanting to do shots. Memories of the fiery tingle of the top shelf vodka Steve insisted on having, hitting your lips is enough to make you pass out.

The hollow feeling in your stomach gets queasy as you remember the greasy bar food served at Louie’s. Your stomach quenches, clutching around itself, ridding its salmon colored lining of the disastrous evening.

But nothing comes up. Just heaving dryly in your bed as tears escape your eyelids and your feet hit the floor. Throwing your body into a whirlwind of dizzy flips— your brain swimming in a sea of Diet Coke and Malibu, membranes bursting with the carbonated bubbles.

You’ve never needed a toothbrush more than you do right at this very second. You stand and the world feels like its raging war on your head. Pulsing and throbbing, like a concert was playing in your head and the guitar solo never ended.

You open your door and are met with the thought of how the fuck did you get here last night? Fuck it, you’d ask questions later, for now you needed to empty your bladder and brush your teeth.

As soon as you lay a hand on the bathroom door, Eddie emerges from his bedroom. Sweatpants are riding dangerously low on his hips and purpling hickies decorate his neck. He’s rubbing his eyes but when he catches sight of you he smiles lazily.

“Holy hell,” Eddie quips, eyes scanning over your body. You robe is hanging loosely off one shoulder, it’s crooked but the tie is in place covering your lower half. They land on the wild mess of hair atop your head, “normally I’d say good morning but it’s—“ he leans back into his room to look at his alarm clock, chuckling at the realization, “—two in the afternoon.”

You don’t fight Eddie for the shower, too tired and weak to argue. You fumble through the medicine cabinet finding the ibuprofen and the Disney cup with the swirly straw on the sink, filling it and taking the slick coated medicine. Swallowing harshly, your throat still raw and aching.

You settle for brushing your teeth while Eddie is in the shower. He’s singing Teen Spirit and getting louder and louder. The circles of the vigorous brushing of your teeth mixed with Eddie’s singing are making your head pound. A long look in the mirror leaves you suddenly feeling embarrassed, as if you needed to look drop dead gorgeous at every single minute you’re around him.

What the hell is going on?

“Please,” you beg, spitting the last bit of toothpaste into the sink, “for the love of everything holy— stop.”

The screeching noise of the shower curtain rings being pulled back pull your head up as you see Eddie half naked, torso covered in soap and your loofah in his hand, the dripping curls on his head turned to long waves with the weight of the water.

“Don’t act like I don’t sing like an angel, sweetheart,” he says with a wink, “besides, lying is not good for your health.”

The suds are traveling south, further and further and further downward, your eye fixated on one particular bubble as it pops right at his belly button.

You train your eyes on his, your cheeks heat from your staring. You reach up and shut the curtain.

“I wasn’t saying you sound bad—I just feel like my head is going to implode.”

Eddie thinks for a minute, “want me to sing you a lullaby? I’d put your baby ass to sleep just like I did last night.”

A million different scenarios flood your mind of what happened last night.

Did you kiss him? You remembering staring at his lips, the soft pillowy pinks, the way his tongue peak—

Oh fuck.

Are the hickies on his neck from you? His Adam apple bobs as he swallowed.

Shit.

Did you sleep together? Blankets, over your head.

What the fuck?

Where are your pants? You can’t even remember what pants you were wearing.

Where’s your car? Did you drive home?

Did Eddie pick you up from the bar?

Did he see you puke? You faintly remember puking on the floor of the front seat of a vehicle.

Your head continues to spin as you sit on the edge of the closed toilet seat. Suddenly feeling violated and disgusting.

“Tooty?” Eddie’s voice rings out.

This time you’re the one throwing open the curtain. Ignoring him as he shields himself with your loofah and his arm. “Jesus Chr—!“

“How fucking dare you!”

“What?!”

“You fucking pig, how could you do that to me!”

“Do what!” Eddie yells back

Your tossing shampoo bottles and bars of soap at his naked body, he’s surprisingly agile, dodging every one.

“How could you sleep with me when I was that drunk?! Jesus Christ I can’t believe you! Why would you do that to me?!”

Tears well in your eyes, you can’t believe that someone you once trusted, and were getting used to trusting again, after only being able to confide in three people over the last five years, would do something so vile, so fucking awful.

“After everything we’ve been through? I’ve known you since I was a kid Eddie! I get drunk one time and you take it upon yourself to forc— “

“Tooty!” Eddie hollers, turning the water off to the shower and stepping around you out of the way to grab a towel, he wraps it around his waist and turns to face you again.

“I didn’t do anything to you.” His eyes are wild but filled with hurt, he lowers his voice, and backs away from you. “If you don’t believe me, call Harrington. I talked to him after I carried your drunk puking ass to your own bed last night!”

“Then where are my pants?! If you ‘didn’t do anything to me’ where are my pants at?!” Eddie heads into the kitchen and pulls the short overalls you were wearing off the back of a chair, still damp from the wash. He tosses them towards you and they land at your feet.

“I washed them because you barfed all over them and I thought you would appreciate them being cleaned instead of in a vomit covered ball on the bathroom floor!”

Your accusations sting his eyes, and burn his nose.

You blink rapidly and rack your brain, the blurry sight of Steve’s car covered in puke comes into view. You struggling to get your clothes off alone in the bathroom. One? Or maybe two girls yelling at him as his back is turned to you, Eddie’s honey dripped voice talking to you as you throw up into the toilet, cheek nestled against the seat. And finally, the feel of his chest on your cheek as he carries you to your room, arms and hands never touching you inappropriately.

Before you can apologize Eddie is thrusting the cordless phone into your palm, Steve’s voice faintly heard from the speaker. He turns with a huff and not another look towards you as he slams his bedroom door shaking the frame.

-

Shutting your bedroom door, Eddie hangs his head, his forehead and one palm on the door, a small smile gracing his lips. His head is spinning, he’s not drunk, in fact he only had one beer tonight, right before their set started.

What is this feeling inside of him? Butterflies in his stomach? Nah, that shit was juvenile. He could only pray that it was indigestion, nothing a couple gulps from a Pepto Bismol bottle couldn’t fix. But he couldn’t deny it.

The instinctual gut feeling of needing to protect you rang true all day. He was ready to fight everyone and anyone who talked ill of you. He just couldn’t help himself. He hadn’t felt this protective of someone since his own mother. He didn’t even feel this way towards Chrissy, and they dated for almost a year.

He pulls his head from the door, wondering if he should have put you on your side so if you vomited in your sleep you wouldn’t choke. He shakes his head, removing his hand slowly down your door, letting his fingers hang to his side.

What is this? Why is he acting like a parent? He rubs his eyes and turns to go to bed, your wadded up overalls in his peripheral vision. Would it be weird? Him washing your clothes? It’s not like your panties were in here it was just the overalls. He could be a good guy, he could be a decent human being, for you— he’d be it all.

Stomping down the dingy, murky basement steps he quickly throws your overalls into the washing machine, adding way too much powdered Era but figuring it was better than having them stink like puke. Slamming the metal lid closed with a wonky bang, he trots back up the stairs.

Stomach grumbling and realizing the only thing he had to eat all day were the poptarts he packed for work, he opens the fridge. Inside sitting on a shelf is a fading spaghetti stained Tupperware, on the lid is a sticky note, and written in your beautiful loopy handwriting:

“Got off work early and made the Tater tot casserole. Warm it up in the microwave for a minute thirty, hope you had a good show tonight. -T ”

-

You didn’t always love when your clients canceled last minute, it meant money gone from your pocket and an annoying increasing anxiety building in your gut when bills showed up. But today, you could actually enjoy the sun's rays on your shoulders for a bit as you drove down the streets of Hawkins, stopping at Bradleys Big Buys to get a pound of ground beef and a can of cream of mushroom soup.

Pushing the cart through the aisles you found the two items you came for, hoping to make it home early so that you could make the casserole before Eddie played tonight, or maybe he could enjoy it when he got home.

Cooking for someone was a labor of love, the simplest act of kindness anyone could offer. That’s what Karen Wheeler had taught you when she would spend her Saturday’s teaching you and Nancy how to cook good hearty meals that would last a while so you wouldn’t starve in college.

“And someone enjoying the food you cook? Girls, that’s the best feeling in the world.”

She wasn’t lying. Even that first week with the lasagna when Eddie had basically came in his pants with every bite, you felt a skip in your chest.

It was the least you could do after he gave you a sense of calm whenever he was around. You didn’t trust many people. Not after what happened. In fact Nancy, Steve and Robin were the only people you could put any sort of hope in.

After browning the ground beef with an chopped onion and mixing the canned ingredients together, you season the mixture with salt, pepper, and garlic powder. One last wipe around the bowl with your spatula and it was good to go. Spreading the mixture into a greased 9 x 13 inch pan and added shredded cheese, you line the tater tots across in horizontal rows and toss it in the oven, covering the dish with tinfoil.

-

Steve confirms everything that had happened. Even down to the minor details of you calling him ‘Steeb’. You feel stupid. Your stomach sank when he said that Eddie had stayed up all night making sure your overalls were clean and that you weren’t choking on your vomit.

“He’s a good dude, Tooty,” he explains, “he’s a perv and a complete douche most of the time, but he would never in a million years do that to someone, especially you.”

“…I know.”

“But do you?” Steve prods, “you said so yourself that he kinda looked out for you, almost better than your own brother did.”

“He did— but that’s just because I was with Chrissy’s brother and he was dating Chrissy.”

“That doesn’t matter, what does matter is that he’s a good guy— someone trustworthy. Make it right.”

With that Steve hung up.

You sit on the couch, head in your hands, feeling like a big pile of shit for what you did. Eddie wouldn’t understand. How could he? You blatantly accused him of doing something that you know in your heart and in your soul that he never could have done. Tears drop from your eyes and into your palms. You allow yourself to cry, something you hated doing, for a few minutes. Angry with yourself for the wrong that you did, but also hurting from the past. When your eyes were puffy and snot was sliding from your nose, you call it quits. Fanning your face you realize you still haven’t taken a shower yet this morning.

Making your way to the bathroom, you turn your head towards Eddie door, Steve was right, you needed to fix this.

But how?

-

The shower was exactly what you needed. The scald from the water was helping ooze the booze from your pores as your dehydrated body soaked it up. Eddie didn’t deserve your harsh words, your accusatory statements, the way his face fell in horror when you screamed at him was burned into your memories, something you saw whenever your eyes were closed. You sit on the floor of the shower. You couldn’t tell him what was going on, you were stronger than that. You didn’t need his sympathy, his pity parade, you would get through this on your own just like you always had. You may have been wrong and and you should probably apologize but you dismiss the idea. What the hell does Steve Harrington know about it?

Eddie bangs on the door, bringing you back to reality.

“What?” You holler out.

“Hurry up so we can go get your car before you accuse me of stealing that too.” His voice is angry and hurt. Finishing up in the shower you leave the bathroom to see an impatient Eddie huffing around the living room, looking at his empty wrist as if he wore a watch and throwing his hands in the air.

“Christ will you hurry the fuck up? I’ve got places to be.”

“Oh fucking relax,” you pout, slamming your door and toweling off. You settle for a pair of denim shorts and a cotton t-shirt. When you reach for the comb to untangle your hair you hear obnoxious honking.

He wouldn’t.

Eddie is sitting in the van laying on the horn. Grabbing your ratty white keds you fly through the house, grabbing your purse and combing your hair as you fling yourself through the door. The pavement is hot on your feet, an exceptionally warm day for September. The hot sun and humid temperatures are the worst mix for a hangover.

Indian summer in full swing.

“Fuck I’m right here, knock it off!” He’s staring at you with dead eyes, hand planted on the horn until you slide your ass onto the cracked leather seat.

Without another word he throws the van in reverse and reaches a hand over to your headrest twisting his body, the cut off flannel he is wearing isn’t buttoned, the powdery musk of his deodorant burns your nose.

Nothing has changed with the old van, tape decks are still littered across the dash, stumped out in the cup holder are a mountain of cigarettes and joints. Too many pine scented Little Trees hanging from the rearview doing a horrible job of hiding the smell of weed. Judas Priest screams through the speakers. You place a foot on the dash to get your shoe on when suddenly you are lurching forward. Eddie taps the brakes.

“No feet on the dash.”

You set your face in a scowl, words bitter on your tongue, “yeah, cause my shoe is really going to hurt the value of this piece of shit. I’m just putting my fucking shoe on since some asshole with a small dick complex couldn’t wait five minutes.”

A mocking chuckle escapes Eddie’s throat, “you really are such a pleasure to be around, how did I get this lucky?.”

“And you’re such a prick,” you seethe, bending over and tying your shoe, “why did you even answer my ad in the paper? All we do is fight because you fucking hate me.”

He’s had enough, slamming his foot onto the pedal, Eddie turns towards you and spits, “Do you really think of me like that? A predator? Someone who would move in with you just to violate you the second you pass out?”

“No I—“

“All the years you’ve known me, you think I’d just up and turn into a fucking rapist?!”

“Jesus Christ Eddie!“

“No, I wanna know, right now,” he turns to you, eyes angry and filled with hurt, “do you get off on this shit? Treating people like they’re nothing? Automatically assuming the worst about someone because of where they grew up? I’m not like that Tooty, I’m not like my—“ he stops himself, pushing his tongue to his cheek, “you are not the girl I knew. I don’t even fucking recognize you.”

“The girl you knew was fourteen, Eddie! My biggest problem back then was wondering who I could convince to buy Boonesfarm for the weekend rager, shit changed. I changed! I had to adapt to shit that was way out of my control. And you don’t even know half of it!”

“You’re right, I don’t and I bet if I were to ask, you wouldn’t even tell me, so fuck it, where am I going?”

“What?”

“I can’t read your mind, where is your car parked?”

You tell him. And as soon as you pull alongside Louie’s and beside your car, you realize you don’t have the keys.

“Open the door. Get out.” Eddie spits in a condescending tone.

Looking at him and smiling, with an extra side of cunt you sing, “I don’t have my keys.”

“Of fucking course.”

Lighting up a cigarette and cranking the wheel Eddie flies through Hawkins. He misses the turn on Kerley to get back home. “Missed the turn,” you announce, putting your other shoe on.

Eddie takes a deep breath and sighs lips tight in a line and exhaling through his nose. “Groceries.” He says through gritted teeth.

Pulling into the grocery store parking lot, Eddie parks, taking up for spots, a tire in each one, before the van even stops moving he’s already out and slamming the door, flicking his cigarette across the parking lot. The heat of the day already high.

Finishing lacing up your other shoe you run across the parking lot to catch up to him. He already has a cart and is whizzing through the aisles before you finally see him. Reaching into your purse you unfold the list and take a look at it.

Dunakaroos

Twizzlers

Gobstoppers

Spaghetti o’s

Bologna

Mayo— NOT MIRACLE WHIP! And no it’s not for that.

Lotion, yes for that 😉

the soft bread, not the brown one.

Carton of reds

Case of Busch Light.

Sunny D

Red kool aid

Hot dogs

Cocoa Puffs

Sliced cheese

Baby food since you think I’m a child (just kidding, don’t be mad)

whatever chips you got with that salsa the one time

My milk— not that skim shit you drink

Your milk— the skim shit

Mac n Cheese

“What kind of a fucking list is this? Most of this shit is snacks.”

“Oh for fucks sake, what are you pissed about now?” Eddie says, dumping two bags of marshmallows into the cart.

You’ve never met a twenty-six year old that ate like he was dining at Willy Wonka’s Factory every night.

“Not a single fruit or vegetable!” You say, waving the list in his face.

“I smoke green, I don’t eat it. Unless you wanna make some pot brownies, I’d eat the shit out of those.” He throws a box of brownie mix into the cart for good measure.

You yank the cart from his hands and turn around, heading back to the produce aisle. He huffs when you place a paper bag of apples neatly in the cart, whines when the bananas sit by your purse, and almost passed out when the tomatoes and a head of lettuce make their way into the cart.

“You’re such a baby! Literally an overgrown man child in the flesh.” He’s walking in front of you mimicking you and whoops! The cart may have slipped out of your hands and made a fleeting dash towards his Achilles tendon, banging against.

“Ouch, Jesus Christ!” Eddie groans under his breath, holding his leg he glares towards you, shooting daggers.

“It slipped,” you smirk.

He scoffs and turns on his heel walking away. You finish in the produce aisle, looking through the boxes of noodles and calculating what you could make for dinner this week. Eddie comes back arms full, you only see his hair sticking out on each side of the three boxes of cereal, a 10 lb ham and seven tubes of cinnamon rolls. He drops them all into the cart with a heavy thud.

After crossing everything off the list and getting a few more things despite Eddie’s protesting exhales, you have a cart full. He seems to have calmed down by the time you make it to the beer fridge, taking two thirty packs of Busch Light and putting them on the bottom of the cart, he rips the side of one of them open and takes a can out. Cracking it open in the middle of the store, downing it. The light colored lager is spilling down his chin, into the collar of his open shirt. He tosses it into a lady’s cart as she’s walking past, wiping the foam from his lips and belching loudly.

You roll your eyes, “You can’t wait until we’re home?”

“What?” He says, looking at you with a stupid grin, “I’m gonna pay for it.”

Waiting in the checkout aisle he cracks another one as he unloads the groceries onto the conveyor belt with one hand. Tossing most of the items onto the belt and grabbing another beer and chugging it. The checkout lady puts her nose in the air and huffs a disapproving grunt.

“I was thirsty.”

“You’re so imp—” your insult is cut short when your eyes sweep over him.

It had been a full two years since you had seen him last. His blonde hair was combed to the side like it always was. The blue of his icy eyes still burned holes through you like dry ice to the exposed skin. The navy blue suit jacket and white Oxford shirt with a red patterned tie and the tan khakis he was wearing suggested he was coming from a late Sunday brunch after church. Awful crippling memories of spending hours ironing those pants to make sure the creases were perfect cloud your memory, you unconsciously hold the two fingers on your left hand, the ones that held misshaped triangle burn scars.

You don’t realize that Eddie is talking or that you’ve stopped moving until the shape of his curly head shakes in front of you. Your breath is hitched in your chest, you feel small. Physically and mentally.

Two years without seeing the face that was the sole purpose of most of the fear in your life. Two years without seeing the demon grin and crazy twitch in his eye. You were frozen in place and your blood ran cold.

It was evil in its truest form. Standing in the checkout behind you— stood Chad Cunningham.

Eddie couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on. Putting the grocery sacks in the cart, he turns to look in your line of vision. He doesn’t recognize him at first. But the strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes ran in the Cunningham blood. He was with a woman, who was so obviously pregnant she seemed like she was about to burst. Judging from the horrific way your eyes were bulged out of your head and the way your body was almost catatonic, Eddie figured it was time to get the fuck out of here. Reaching in his pocket for his wallet he paid the cashier and impatiently waited for the change, keeping his eyes on you.

You were trembling with fear. Not from the sudden run in with an ex but something much deeper than that. Eddie places his hands on your shoulders and looks into your eyes, “let’s go sweetheart,” he whispers gently, he crowds behind you and puts a small hand on your back, guiding you forward towards the automatic doors. Eddie keeps his head on a swivel for Chad.

The woman who was with him was waddling towards the bathroom, his eyes never leaving your body. As soon as she was out of ear shot, Chad puffed out his chest and said, “Lookin’ good honey bun, I will say though, the downgrade,” he points to Eddie, “..yikes.”

The nickname made your skin crawl. You never liked it, and he knew that. He only said it to get a rise out of you, which was successful. “See you soon,” he gloated, smiling with perfectly straight teeth, eyes never meeting his smile.

You don’t make it five feet outside before the shock wears off and the tears stream down your face in salty waves. Eddie takes control of the cart with his left hand and ushers you forward with his right, minimal pressure on the small of your back as he keeps his head on a swivel, dark curtain of curls crowding his eyes as he moves his head around.

Unlocking the doors he helps you in, buckling your seatbelt and saying he’d be back in thirty seconds. The back doors of the van fly open as Eddie all but tosses the groceries into the back. At thirty seconds exactly, Eddie is back in the van, starting it and roaring out of the parking lot.

He still didn’t know what happened with Chad, but it wouldn’t take an absolute idiot to know that it was bad. Really fucking bad. He looks over to you and your head is stuffed into your shirt, your knees under your chin and you’re rocking back and forth on the seat.

“Five minutes, Tooty— we’ll be home in less than five minutes, okay?” Eddie says, frantically. He’s trying to stay calm. Trying to be the voice of reason, composed and serene. But he is horrified. Scared to death at how you responded to seeing Chad. How your body froze up and your face looked as if you weren’t breathing. Even now, hearing you gasp for air as your body shook and swayed with each turn he made. He slams on the gas, pausing slightly at stop signs and ignoring any yield signs.

He parks in the driveway, coming around to help you out of the van. Just like he did last night, he carries you, only this time you remember it. Your body is shaking violently, chest racked with sobs. His chest is wet with tears from your face being buried into it. He’s whispering to you that everything will be okay. Opening the door he kicks it shut with his boot. He brings you into your room and sits you on your bed, you’re cradled in his lap, like a parent would hold a child. He caresses your head, holding you closer to him. His warm breath in your hair grounds you. You feel him lean forward grabbing on your nightstand for something, the phone.

He dials the number without even thinking. Waiting impatiently on the other end as a familiar voice answers.

“Hello?” Steve breathes boredly into the phone.

Eddie sighs with relief, “Harrington, it’s me.”

“Oh God, listen dude I don’t know what to te—“

“Shut up, Steve.” Eddie interrupts, “listen—something, happened.”

Steve almost chokes on his popcorn, frantically firing off questions. “What? What’s going on? Is she okay? Are you okay?”

“Ye—no, I mean—“ Eddie is stuttering and trying to explain, “we ran into Chad at the gro—“

“I’m on my way!”

The line goes dead and Eddie hears dial tone. He sets the phone back in the holder and wraps a blanket around you. Your heart is racing and you can’t even form words. You haven’t had a panic attack in over a year. It feels like the world is crashing in on you, the walls are tight and shrinking, the whole room feels smaller by the minute. Eddie’s voice is gentle and soothing, like a warm cup of coffee on a cold winter morning.

“Can you take a deep breath for me?” He murmurs, “try to match your breathing with mine.” He remembers what he was taught as a kid. His emotions always ran high and Wayne would have to settle him down, get him to take deep breaths.

He’s rubbing soft circles into your back. Rocking you back and forth. You try to speak but all that comes out are gasps and the whirling noise of sharp intake of breath.

Steve and Robin make it to the house in record time, running to your room and taking everything in. Your disheveled appearance brings Steve to his knees in front of Eddie. Grabbing your hand and squeezing letting you know it was going to be okay.

You slide off Eddie’s lap and lay on the bed, curled in a ball. Robin lays beside you. Brushing your hair from your face with her fingers.

Steve pulls Eddie out of your room with great force he didn’t want to leave but he didn’t know how to help.

“I’m sorry— fuck man, I’m sorry for calling you — I just— she just locked up. She couldn’t talk, she couldn’t move!” He runs his hands down his face, trying to will the tears away. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Hey, give yourself a break, you got her home, she’s safe,” Steve says patting Eddie on the back, “so explain what happened.”

Eddie begins explaining from when you both got to the grocery store. He goes into detail how distraught you seemed, how your body was rigid and full of fear. The burn of tears threatening to spill from his eyes has him blinking quick before they fall. Steve listens intently, face warped with shock and disbelief.

Throwing his head back and running his hands down his face Steve lets out a loud exhale and throws his hands on his hips, “fuck I hate that guy.”

“Yeah he seems like a fucking psycho,” Eddie agrees, “but what the fuck is going on?! I mean yeah they dated but, I don’t stiff up like that when I run into Chrissy or Trish.”

A shiver runs down his spine as he thinks of how upset you were, your body crumbling with fear the minute you made it into the van. Anxiety trickling through your body like electricity to a wire. He hated to admit it but he was scared for you.

Remembering the groceries in the back of the van, the two guys brave the sweltering heat to retrieve them. Eddie starts to put the items away, Steve rolls his eyes watching him put the canned items in the small cabinet designed for spices, the endless snacks he purchased thrown on the counter nestled up against the flour canister and slamming the lettuce into the fridge like a bowling ball.

Eddie could give a rats ass where the things went, he was worried and getting a headache from wondering if you were going to be okay. Half thinking he should find where good ol Chad lived and pay him a nice little visit. Only three tires slashed and the insurance won’t cover it.

Throwing the groceries sacks in the garbage and making his way to the living room, sitting down on the couch, he sits with his elbows on his knees, bouncing them in quick repetitions. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on or should I put a paper fortune teller on my fingers and we can decide what’s wrong with Tooty with the help of crayola markers?”

The wailing cries and sobs have dissipated in the last half hour, only Robin’s soothing words can be heard now.

“Dude, it’s not my place to say,” Steve says, “it’s one thing to tell you about her parents and Kevin, but this—“ he takes another deep breath, running his hands through his thick tufts of hair, “this is 100 times worse than that,” Steve explains lowering his head.

“…But you’re right, you’re her roommate and you should know what happened.”

Eddie nods his head slowly, silently agreeing with everything Steve had said. Standing quickly and pacing around the living room, his mind is running a million miles a minute. The fight you two had didn’t matter, the only thing that mattered to him in this moment— the only thing on his mind for the past twelve hours— was you.

Steve stands and runs his fingers through his hair, placing his hands on the waist of the old fading green gym shorts he was wearing. “I’m gonna go talk to her, and when you guys are done, I’m gonna make you guys something to eat. I’m sure you idiots haven’t eaten today given the timing of when shit hit the fan.”

Eddie nods again, biting the fingernails on his right hand until they bled, a habit he hadn’t done since he was a teen, facing possible jail time for destructing private property when he spray painted, “Your mom swallowed EM’s monster cock” on the front doors of Hawkins High. He was pacing, itching for a cigarette. Pulling the pack from his flannel breast pocket he goes outside and sits on the concrete steps, lighting up.

Three squashed cigarette butts sit next to him on the step before Steve finds him. Eddie stands and stubs the cigarette out blowing smoke out of the crooked twist of his lips away from Steve’s face. The nicotine helped take the edge off but he was still anxious, fidgeting his rings.

“H-how is she?” Eddie asks apprehensively, “can I talk to her?”

“She’s better, taking deep breaths and relaxing as best as he can, she’s gonna explain everything, just give her space— let her talk and don’t ask anything until she’s finished.”

“Yeah, ‘f course.”

“Alright. Robin is gonna help me make supper,” Steve says holding opening the front door, face in a grimace he jokes, “wish me luck.”

Eddie was the one who thought he himself needed the luck, he was scared shitless that you were afraid of him.

He walks gently to your room and knocks softly on the door with one knuckle, palm facing him. He remembers just hours ago how he was standing at this very door, and how very different he felt then.

“Come in,” Robin chirps.

Eddie takes a quick breath holding it as he steps foot into your room. You’re sitting on your bed cross legged, blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Your eyes are red rimmed and tissues surrounding you, a cemetery of drying tears. You look at him and muster a smile, a twitch of your lips raising at the corners.

“Well, I’m needed as a sous chef in kitchen a la Harrington,” Robin says brightly, standing from the bed and skipping towards the door. When she passes Eddie she touches his arm squeezing and giving him a reassuring nod.

Eddie stands with his hands stuffed in his pockets as the door clicks shut. You both don’t say anything for a while, you’re twirling the end of the pillowcase in your lap and he’s burning holes with his eyes into the carpet.

“I’m really sorry, Eddie,” you say quietly, “I’m—“ your voice catches in your throat, sore from the the wailing, “I’m hoping that when I’m done telling you, you’ll be able to understand..”

He nods and leans against the wall. Hands wrapped around his triceps.

“Before I explain— I just need you to know that only Robin, Steve, Nancy, and her parents know about this— not my parents, or Kev or anyone else— and now you.

Eddie’s face is full of concern, he whispers an “okay,” and you continue.

“I can’t remember but I’m pretty sure that you and Chrissy started dating around the same time that Chad and I did, and as you remember I’m sure, Chad and I were together almost all the time. When you graduated, and my sophomore year was the year my parents moved away— things changed with him. He was suddenly callous about everything, needing control of who I was with and when. Mostly he was pissed that I was staying with the Wheeler’s. He always thought I was cheating on him with Mike.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, the Mike Wheeler he knew wouldn’t know what to do if a chick laid butt naked in his bed. Probably piss himself.

You work the corner of the pillow case in your fingers as you keep going, “The first time he hit me was on a night that I told him I couldn’t hang out because Mrs. Wheeler wanted everyone home for supper. He called me a slut and told me that I should just go and fuck Mike already even though he knew I wasn’t.”

Eddie’s eyes flicker with anger when you admit that Chad hit you, his fists clenched together tightly. With your head down and looking away from him you continue, your voice wobbly.

“We didn’t even have sex yet, at that time, I wasn’t ready. After he hit me, I thought we should break up. He followed me around, begging me to take him back and like the naive kid that I was, I did. He would be sweet for a few weeks, and then it was like a flip would switch and he’d back hand me for giving Lucas a pencil during History, pulled my hair out in chunks when Mike brought me to school, he even choked me until I passed out when Dustin sat next to me at lunch. He was extremely jealous of everyone around him, and couldn’t handle seeing anyone he didn’t ‘approve of’ be near me. He hated that I worked at Family Video, he would show up almost every shift and wait in the store for me to clock out, even threatening to kick Steve’s ass on more than one occasion. He finally gave up on that when I told him Steve was dating Robin, just so I could go to work in peace.”

Eddie’s gut is rolling, the anger boiling in his blood, his nostrils are flared, it is taking everything in him to not react the way he wants to, a simple trailer park style beating to Chad’s car, his face, whatever would hurt the little prick more. Heads would fucking roll if Eddie ever got ahold of him.

“It didn’t end there. Like I said, we weren’t having sex because I wasn’t ready, I had enough shit going on with my parents up and leaving and buying all the concealer that Melvald’s carried to cover up the bruises.”

You take a shaky breath, fighting back tears for as long as you could. Chewing the inside of your lip and un crossing your legs, bringing your knees to your chest you continue.

“Af—After prom our junior year, we were driving around and he was drinking, I just wanted to go home but he didn’t. He parked way outside of town on the south side, on some dead end road… I mouthed off to him about how cliche it was to lose our virginities on prom night and the next thing I knew,” your voice pitches to a high volume, your lips are tight as you remember the pain you felt in your head from him knocking you out, the way his hands were groping your body, “I was waking up to him on top of me, and inside of me.”

The dam breaks, the tears fall from your eyes like rain in the spring time. You throw your head back against your headboard and sniff loudly, your palms pressed to your eyes.

Eddie doesn’t know what to do, he’s afraid if he tried to comfort you it would only cause you more pain. Against his better judgment he stands and walks towards the bed, scooting across the lavender bedspread he sits across from you, reaching for your ankle and tenderly squeezing it, letting you know that he was there.

“I’ve never felt more alone in my entire life then when I was dating him,” you sniffle and reach for the tissues, blowing your nose loudly, “Eddie, this went on for years, it didn’t fucking stop. After senior year, he didn’t want me to go to college, because I would be too far away from him, and we argued and he kicked me out on the opposite side of town with two swelling black eyes. By the time I made it back to the Wheeler’s, my eyes were almost shut. That night, I told Ted and a very hysterical, Karen everything, and they called the cops. Of course, Tim Cunningham was the state prosecutor at the time, so it didn’t go far— Hop did what he could but there was never any judgment made against Chad, and everything was over after that.”

“I went to beauty school with Nance, and when we moved back home, I was living in the little apartments off of Sawmill Road, he found out where I was and broke in, luckily Steve and Robin were my neighbors so they heard everything and came running before he could hurt me.

“After that.. Ted and Karen bought this place for Nancy and I and last year I saved up enough and bought it from them. Last I heard, Chad had moved to Indianapolis and was working for his uncle at the law firm until he finished school. I haven’t seen him in over two years— anyway,” you finish, wiping your eyes, and blowing your nose once more, “that’s the story.”

Eddie doesn’t know where to begin, he partially is taking the blame for what happened to you, knowing that if he were there, if he had stuck it out with Chrissy maybe he could have seen the signs, maybe he could have stopped it before it ever started, maybe he could have put that little fucker in his place and made him think twice about ever touching you again. He’s full of regret, full of shame and turmoil as he thinks about how you must have been feeling this morning.

“Oh, Tooty.” Eddie starts his eyes glistening with wetness, heart aching for you, “I’m so sorry, Jesus Christ, I— I don’t even… Fuck! I should have been around.”

“There wasn’t anything anyone could have done— he’s a lunatic.” You take a breath and look down at his hand on your ankle, abandoning the thought of reaching for it at the last minute, “I know you would never do something to hurt me, or anyone— I’m sorry about last night Eddie. I just, I don’t ever get drunk enough to not remember what happened. Not after the shit I’ve been through. ” You fold your arms into your self, wrapping around your ribs, in a small voice you whisper, “and today when I couldn’t remember, I was fucking terrified—going right back to how I felt that night when I was sixteen.”

In the van today, he fully intended on chewing you out, making you feel about three inches tall. He had been accused of many different things during his teenage years. Hell he even spent a night or two in jail after fighting a guy in Indianapolis when he threw a beer at Gareth. But one thing Wayne taught him was to respect women. Sure he wasn’t the average guy, his lever leaned a little further towards pervert than most. But he would never hurt a woman. The way you looked right now scared him. Like you were afraid to be near him. Unsure if he would scream at you or worse. And it broke his heart.

“Sweetheart,” he says, leaning forward, finger dipping under your chin and tilting your head up so you were looking right at him. A fresh brim of tears clung to your lashes, “as long as I’m here, being the thorn in your side, pain in the ass, good looking mother fucker that I am— you don’t ever have to be scared again.”

You shutter, body exhausted and giving in, letting the tears fall.

“Promise?”

Your doe eyes are wet and staring into his, the swirling chocolate of his eyes, melted as he looks into your soul. Shedding any walls around his heart, baring himself of his discretions, his eyes are deeper than the galaxy. You swear you’ve never seen anything prettier in your life. You can feel your frigid heart thawing for the first time in years.

“Always.”

You never thought a single word could have so much meaning, a sense of security washed over you with Eddie’s promising word. A silent devotion from his eyes of keeping you safe and out of harm's way. You felt your soul open up to him. A higher power bringing you closer to him. You reach down and grab his hand. Rubbing the rough knuckles and tracing the rings on his fingers. An angel’s smile dances on Eddie’s lips. He decides right there, in that moment, that he would be whatever you needed. For as long as you needed him. Because he needed you.

///

///

SEE YOU IN VOLUME VI

a/n: hope you enjoyed this, it was a little rough but the next chapter is pure fluff 💋

[tulipsforyourlips]

✧˖°. i found you ✧˖°. (3)

|| the sandman x dead boy detectives ||

SUMMARY: You run the dead boys detective agency along with your two best friends. And somehow two ghosts and a living girl make it work. Until you dream one night, of dream himself.

PAIRING: dream of the endless x fem!reader

WC: 3K+

WARNINGS: none i can think of

PART 3✧˖°.

"What the fuck." Your heart beat thunderously in your ribcage. "Are you stalking me?"

The goth guy paid no heed to your question. "I am Dream."

You just stared at him. "Oh okay and I am a nightmare?"

He only became more stern if that was even possible. He took a step forward.

"Don't. I'll call the police," you threatened.

He continued on without paying any heed to your threat. Who the fuck does he think he is?

"I am King of Dreams-"

"Dude-I told you not working."

"Stop talking.” His voice was low but the words were sharp.

But you weren't going to turn down your sass because of a man? Cmon.

"I am Dream-"

"I think I got that bit.”

An imperceptible flare of his nostrils made you zip your mouth. Wow you really got under his skin.

"I am Dream of the Endless and you mortal, have been chosen for a destiny greater than your cause.”

You gawked at him and broke into a chuckle, "o-okay Dream, Wait." You straightened. "Did you say the Endless? Like Death?"

You didn't know much about the Endless but you for sure knew Death was one. He did not answer your question but he did not deny your claim, so you assumed it an affirmative from him.

"How do I know?"

"Know what?"

"That you are infact one of the Endless and not a serial killer concocting stories to trap his victim."

He stepped closer and this time you let him. "Oh I do concoct stories.” He brought his hand to his mouth and blew...sand particles?

However you had no time to asses that for certain because the next second you were suspended in the cosmos, your body pulling in all directions, vivid images clashed in your mind, touring you through the entire world and all in a blip of a second. You grabbed the rim of your bedstand as your mind spiraled, reeling itself back to reality. 

"Woah," you breathed out.

Had you just disrespected an Endless? And called him a stalker? You cringed.

"We will meet again," Dream said as he swooped his cloak over his head.

"Wait." He halted his actions.

"Why me?"

A flicker of emotion fired in his eyes, so brief you labeled it as your imagination.

"Goodnight mortal.”

You woke up with a start. And clutched your head in your hands, stupid dream. You glanced at your alarm clock and then realized it was broken, that you broke it and instead looked at the digits glowing on your phone screen, 5:00 am. Sleep would not come to you now, you knew that much so you put on your slippers and made your way to the kitchen, padding softly so as to not make any sound. You put on the stove and boiled the milk for some coffee, allowing your thoughts till now kept at bay to flood your mind. Okay so that was a dream, explains some stuff. But then those blurs in your dream, and you were sure you had seen him at the corridor yesterday. Unless you had watched a movie starring him and now you saw the actor everywhere. Nah that wasn’t true. But what about your dream? Ever since you were seventeen, you had dreamed only of that place with the mountains and the river. Or maybe before, it wasn't like you remembered anything before that, before your life here, with Edwin and Charles. Is something burning? Oh no. The milk was overflowing, dripping down the slab onto the floor.

"Fuck," you cursed.

How the heck did this even happen? You were staring right into the pot. You grabbed for a cloth, dabbing the milk away. The vessel was tarred black with the burnt milk inside. You couldn't do one bloody job properly.

"Turn around!"

You did, hands up in the air, heart beating exponentially fast yet again. Edwin was in his pajamas, a quizzical look adorning his face. The ghosts didn’t really need sleep but they still liked to bide the time away by resting when there were no immediate cases in need of solving. 

"Hazel?" he furrowed his brows and then examined the mess you were standing in. "What are you doing? I thought you were a thief or a ghost hunter or something.”

"Ghost hunters exist?" You were genuinely surprised.

"Dunno," he shrugged. "It's 5 in the morning, how are you up?"

"A dream.”

"A nightmare?"

"Not exactly.”

"A different one?"

You nodded. Edwin was taken aback at that. He knew about your dream, and that it was the only thing you ever dreamed about. Hell he knew everything about you. Both of them did. They were your only family.

The sun was slowly starting to emerge from underneath the cover of the dark. Edwin approached you at your place on the couch, two coffee mugs in his hand, steam ascending from them. He handed you your mug and took his place beside you.

You took a sip of your coffee. "Mmm.”

"Passable eh?" He teased.

"Yeah." You threw your head backwards.

A comfortable silence enveloped you both, your shoulders touching and knees budging each other.

"You want to talk about it?"

It took you a second to realize the context, "No." You shook your head. "It's nothing.”

"Okay." He didn't probe further and you were thankful for that.

You felt someone watching you and you glanced at the window, only to find a crow? a raven? looking back.

"Bastards.”

You both turned your head to the source where a jealous Charles stood. "Are you having coffee without me?" He was acting like you both were cheating on him.

"Oi calm your horses, its not like your body requires coffee."

"And I care why? Everything is not about survival loser." He flicked your forehead.

"Ouch.” You sent him a glare.

"Okay I don't have the energy nor the patience to sit through this." Edwin got up. "You two, be ready in fifteen. Cases await us."

The moon was beginning to appear in the sky and the wind blew some mischievous strands of your hair across your face as you stapled the posters in your hands on the poles around you. A boy was missing, and your client was sure it had to do with some supernatural activity. It paid well so the agency didn't question it further. While the both of them were searching the location of his disappearance for clues, you were seeking more information about him. The wind knocked some papers out of your hand, and you bent down to pick them up. Your body jerked back when you straightened up.

Hand on your heart, you exclaimed, "Jeez!"

The goth guy from your dream stood before you.

"You seriously need to stop doing that," you gritted out.

And then suddenly your mind clicked and the words left you before you could stop them. "Wait you are real?"

Ever so slightly, Dream's face morphed into a question mark.

Okay so that definitely wasn't a dream, it was real. Very real apparently you realized as you assessed the man, no Endless standing before you.

"You need to come with me," he said oblivious to the raging commotion happening inside your mind.

You didn't reply, instead widened your eyes for an elaboration.

"To the Dreaming, my realm.”

"I can't, I am on a case.”

"Your friends can manage without you," he stated as a matter of fact.

You scoffed, "first of all that's rude, secondly-"

But before you could finish, sand, yeah sand for sure, began to swirl around you, gaining more motion until it enwrapped your entire body and when you next opened your eyes, you were in the Dreaming.

"Holy mother of god," you breathed as your eyes took in the throne room, the magnificence of it all, the colours shimmering in the glass pane, the cosmos swirling above you, the vastness of where you stood. You felt trivial, a bug in the path of a jogger.

"Lucienne I would like you to meet somebody," Dream's voice rasped and you revolved your head to face the woman his words were directed to.

A woman with skin like chocolate, sporting fashionable coattails and wearing spectacles that made her look infinitely wise or perhaps the glasses were just an addition to her preexistent wisdom met your eyes.

She bowed her head. “Greetings your lady."

You returned her gesture. "Hello Lucienne."

"Lucienne is my most trusted advisor and the sole librarian of this realm," the Endless spoke.

"Wow, I wonder what the library of the dreaming would look like.”

She peered at you in bafflement for a moment before quickly collecting herself.

"It would be my honour to show you sometime.”

"The honour would be all mine, Lucienne,” you smiled.

"Lord Morpheus," she called to the Endless.

Morpheus? Who the heck is Morpheus?

"Um who is Morpheus?" You decided to voice your curiosity.

A knowing glance passed between the two.

"It's another name I am called by.”

Oh.

"Lucienne go on,”

"There were further abruptions reported earlier around the house of mystery and..."

You were no longer paying attention to Lucienne's speech as your gaze travelled along the enormous cracks dividing the ground.

"Sorry to interrupt but is this part of the decor?" You asked the both of them.

"No," Morpheus sighed, "and that precisely is why you are here.”

"You don't have construction crew around here?"

Morpheus clenched his jaw, "We have Mervin, however this problem does not concern him. It runs deeper than you can comprehend.”

"Then help me comprehend," you said.

Morpheus eyes' pierced into yours, "All in time mortal."

Your legs dangled below you from where you sat in the library. As promised, Lucienne had shown you around and to say you were mesmerized beyond your wits would be a brutal understatement. You were in the dreaming, an entirely different realm, sitting in its library that towered even after you stretched your neck to its capacity, and were going through books that no mortal would have ever had the luxury of touching or even knowing that such pieces exist. Not to mention, having spoken with an Endless. An Endless? The king of Dreams himself. For a second you feared if you were dreaming again. But the old pinch sufficed to make you believe the opposite. But why? How? Your mind was a muddling mess. Guaranteed you had your fair share of weirdness working with the dead boy detectives but this was something entirely else. The librarian had introduced you to Mervin, who to your astonishment was actually a pumpkin head. You were after all in the realm of the dreams, if anything was possible, it was here. A sudden caw pulled you from your spiraling. A crow perched on your shoulders. No a raven? Was this…the raven from before? The one you had glanced in the living room's window?

"Hi kid, I am Matthew."

You weren't as taken aback as you thought you would be at the talking raven. You were slowly getting used to all the craziness.

"Hi Matthew, I am Hazel.”

"Pretty name.”

"Flattery doesn't work on me, just for your information," you stated, your gaze fixed on the words in the book propped open on your lap. "It might serve the goth guy you work for stalker.” You narrowed your eyes at the raven.

"Ooh, a feisty mortal, nice you and I would get along very well.”

And you both did. It would have been just minutes chatting away with Mathew but as your laughs erupted in the silence around you, you felt you had known the guy forever, the raven, oh the raven that had been a guy once.

"Matthew," Dream's cold tone quieted you both. “Leave us alone.”

"Yes boss," the raven obeyed.

"Accompany me,” Dream said as he turned away expecting you to follow behind.

Arrogant.

You fell in with him, a question on your lips when the gates to the palace opened. The question forgotten, your mouth parted in amazement as you stared at the vast expanse of gardens before you. You exited the palace steps, incredulity lingering on your face as you inhaled the sheer exquisiteness of the place you were in.

Dream ushered his head in a direction. "Come," and continued that way.

You jogged to match up his pace.

"What do you know about the Endless?" He asked.

"Very little," you admitted, "I mean I know there are seven of them, Death being one and now you apparently, but I'm afraid that's about all the knowledge I have."

"It is still more than what humans generally know about us."

"Well it's the courtesy of my friends.”

"Ah, your ghost friends," he disclosed.

You stopped in your tracks. "You know?"

"That they are ghosts?" He walked on.

"Yeah I just wondered- I figured you didn't know and that's why you didn't tell Death.”

"Oh Death knows," he revealed the information with a glint in his eye, as if he was enjoying your reaction.

"What?" You cried. Gathering yourself, you said, "Then why doesn't she..go after them? Bring them to the sunless lands and whatever?" You joined him.

"Death has her reasons. She is far kinder than you know.”

"I, I don't know what to say."

Morpheus did not try to continue the conversation. You both walked in silence for some time. Questions ran rampant inside your head, but never left your lips.

"Ask," he said not tearing his eyes away from the path.

You didn't even realize he had sensed your hesitation. Questions grappled with each other to be released first and in that brawl you muttered the stupidest of them all. "How many names do you have?"

If Morpheus was surprised at the choice of your question, he didn't show it. "Many.”

Wow okay that was one elaborate answer if you heard any. Did it pain him to speak?

Just as you had accepted that's all you would get from him, he spoke, "Dream, Morpheus, Oneiros and Sandman to name a few.”

"The Sandman? As in the fable Sandman?"

"Tell me mortal, do I look like a fable to you?"

"Fair point," you mused.

Taking the opportunity of his answering mood, you exploited your luck further. "Can the mortals visit the dreaming anytime? I mean how does this even work?"

"Yes, whenever a mortal sleeps, he enters my realm where I contain the unconscious of the entire world.”

"That sounds…tough.”

"Does this mean I am sleeping right now?" You queried further.

"Exceptionally, no. I brought you here. Your soul and your body are both intact at the present and there is no trace of you in the waking world."

Your mouth opened once more to ask him another question, when his raspy voice cut through the air. “You get one more.”

The ego of this man, fine you insolent arse.

"Do you ever get lonely?"

If you were paying rapt attention you would have noticed the falter in his steps but your eyes were trained on his face.

"No," he answered.

"Seriously? Not ever?"

"You have run out of your questions and your friends must be waiting for you." He turned his body towards you. 

But before he could procure his pouch of sand from his cloak, the ground gave a sudden croak beneath you. Followed by a deafening cracking as the very ground you stood upon began parting into two.

"What the-," you started.

Dream grabbed your elbow and pulled his cloak over you both. The universe itself seemed to wrap around you and in the next moment you were in the waking world. He released his hold on your elbow as if your touch had burned him. He would probably need to wash his hands after touching a mortal.

"Stay here," he ordered.

Before you could object, he had vanished. You waited in the clearing, the stack of posters on the ground and the moon bathing you in its light. You were gone for more than half a day but only a few hours had passed back here. Times moves differently here, Lucienne's words entered your mind. After waiting another 10 minutes, you got up from your position on the ground, collected the posters in your hand, and began to make your way back to the apartment. He wasn't coming back.

Just as you were out the woods, Morpheus' voice reached your ears. "I told you to stay there.”

You turned back. Moonlight filtering through the trees illuminated his pale skin to ghastly pale. He looked beautiful. What? Shut up brain.

"I thought you weren't coming back."

Morpheus didn't say anything to that. This guy really needed to work on his communication skills.

"What was back there?"

"The realm is collapsing, at the rate of the damage we have very little time."

"For what?"

"To prevent it from happening.”

"But-"

"Rest tonight mortal. We begin tomorrow." And with those obscure words he was gone in a blur.

You opened the door to the apartment and were immediately met with yelling. "Where the fuck were you?"

"You just totally vanished!"

"We searched for you everywhere!"

"Why weren't you answering your phone?"

"We were worried!"

Charles and Edwin's frenzied voices overlapped each other.

"Guys guys stop!"

They both fell silent.

"I am sorry I-I had to be somewhere on an urgent business and my phone died down."

"Next time the very least you can do is inform us beforehand," Edwin chided you.

"I swear the situation was out of my control, I promise it won't happen again."

Edwin's features softened and he asked, "Are you alright?"

You exhaled, "Yep I am aces."

"Get your own catchphrases," Charles muttered behind you and draped his arms around your neck from the back. "We are just glad you are back safe and in one piece.”

You leaned against his frame. "You can't even lie properly.”

"Hey sod off.” He broke apart the embrace.

You laughed at his tantrums.

"Anyways you wouldn't believe the adventure we had today. It was brills. Turns out the missing boy was actually..."

Yeah you wouldn't believe the adventure I had today either.  We begin tomorrow, the words scraped against the walls of your mind.

A/N: phew the stage is set. so lmk ur thoughts<3 i would love to hear em!! 

SERIES MASTERLIST ✧˖°.

[starbunii]

Tropes my beloved,, cn I get Baizhu, Barbara, and Mikan Tsumiki w/ a chronically ill s/o?

# . illness 𓂃 ♥︎

𝜗𝜚 ┈ baizhu, barbara, and mikan x reader (seperate) ! ｡

notes: IM SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG; WRITER'S BLOCK HAS BEEN KICKING MY BUTT LATELY </3

also, i don't know too much abt chronic illness, so some of this might be portrayed wrong! please feel free to give me constructive criticism so i can write it better in the future!

headcanons ノ fluffノgn! reader ノcanon universe

second person pov !! please enjoy! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

-- ♡ --

baizhu

basically a human alarm clock; reminding you when to take your meds, eat your food, go to bed; everything!!

really tries to push more herbal remedies. he's glad you're already on more standard medication, but he'd also like to use essential oils and certain vegetables and grasses on top of that

cooks every meal for you, even though he knows you can do it yourself. he just loves providing for you

changsheng curls up on your lap while he's providing for you; be it cooking or giving you your medicine <3

barbara

constantly fusses over you...like all the time

she just wants to make sure you're ok!! even if that means dragging you to sit in the pews while she mops up the floor or assist others in prayer

100% prays to barbatos to take your pain away. she doesn't care that you're ill; she's happy to take care of you. she just hates seeing you hurt

she scolds you whenever you over-exert yourself, but makes sure you're ok first

mikan

does not trust doctors to help you with meds. she knows what she's doing!! she can take care of you herself!! ofc, she knows you have to go anyway, and won't put up a fight...but she'll give her own input from time to time

has a small case full of comfort items, esp if your body starts to hurt a lot. it'll be full with sweaters, blankets, stuffed animals, and medicine

she loves helping you, but is also really scared she'll make things worse..either way, she'll do her best! with minimal direction, ofc...

follows you almost everywhere!! despite her shyness, she's very stubborn. she doesn't let anyone else fuss over you

starbunii 2024 — all rights reserved. do not redistribute or translate to any other platforms

[sinapple]

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟

PAIRING: Reiji Sakamaki x M!Reader

SUMMARY: After a long day of gardening with Yuma, you find yourself in a deep sleep until something wakes you up. You look down and see…

C/W: SMUT!! , dubious consent, dubious consensual blowjob, sub!reiji, slight teasing, male!reader, facefucking, deepthroating

WC: 1k || not proof-read!!

A long day of gardening with Yuma had your body grasping for sleep. Being around the guy had your muscles tense and sore, leaving you at the mercy and hands of your soft bed and even softer pillows.

Every joint and muscle felt heavy and rusty. It had you questioning if Yuma’s vampiric nature had a play in how hard he was hoeing or if your fitness had always been this bad. You turned your head towards the alarm clock on your bedside, ignoring the ache that lingered in your neck. The bright green LEDS read: 4:30 AM.

There was this dryness in your throat that you started to notice as your consciousness was being pulled like the rough rope of a tug-o-war between the land of slumber and the reality you knew.

Soreness? That was understandable. Aches? You’d be surprised if they weren’t there. However, you started to notice an ‘ache’ that you were sure wasn’t there before. This ache made you heave, it made you gasp, it made your chest tight and had you taking a couple of deep breaths. Your half-lidded eyes weren’t heavy because of the alluring temptation to go back to sleep in this damning too-comfy bed.

Rather, to locate the origin of your half-lidded eyes, all you needed to do was look down and there he was, all sloppy-mouthed and messy, with drool glistening against your candle stand and it dripping down his jaw.

“Reiji..? Sweetheart-?” Your voice unintentionally growled, contrasting the sweet tone of your words; evident that the dryness in your throat was from you abruptly waking up.

He doesn’t say anything. To be more accurate, he couldn’t. Reiji's actions spoke volumes of his haste and impatience to stuff your thick cock in his mouth, as he slipped your sweatpants, lowering them just below your waistline where the band of your boxers were.

He laid himself flat against your legs. Reiji pumped your cock up and down, using nothing but his saliva as lubricant. You saw the way his eyes were fascinated as your veiny cock became coated with his drool, drowning each prominent vein with a sheen to them.

You didn’t know what the hell you got yourself into. Earlier you were just out farming out in the Sun and sweating alongside Yuma. Now Reiji had snuck into your room and wanted to stretch his tiny mouth out using nothing but your fat cock to do the job.

“H-Holy….” You bit your lip and groaned as Reiji took your tip inside his mouth. His tongue swirled around, using the smooth underside of his tongue to play with your glands.

Reiji looks up at you, not daring to stop, nor jusitfy, himself and his actions. All he could mutter out was, “Mmhn…” You take your hand and cup his cheek, caressing the second eldest and also grounding yourself in the process.

“I know you can take more, Darling.” Your fingers lingered at his cheeks and there, you could even feel ‘yourself’ from how thin his skin was.

“M-Mhm…” Reiji weakly nodded, and started to inch himself towards the base. Your eyes rolled back as you felt how warm the other’s mouth was when compared to the chilly air in the night that blew past your skin.

He eventually got to the base, feeling and fitting all of you inside him. Your fingers snake into his raven hair, massaging the tenseness that’d formed. Reiji’s shoulders jerked back from the sudden movement.

“You look divine from this view,” You couldn’t resist it any longer and decided to gently thrust inside his mouth, holding his head in place by gripping his hair. You were practically grinding into the back of his throat. Tears started to well on his eyes and his chest panted like he’d just run the Olympics. You cooed at him, “Am I being too mean, baby?”

Both of you knew words were out of the question, so while still softly thrusting into his mouth, your girthy dick sliding in and out his cute, saliva-ridden mouth, all Reiji could muster was a ragged, gagged noise, lost in the sounds of the other slick noises your skin-to-skin touch produced.

Reiji didn’t know how he was breathing through his nose. It felt like his jaw was slacked and heavy. His tongue had grown tired and laid under your cock, using only his neck and head to please you. He couldn’t help but think: if you felt this good in his mouth, then god, Reiji didn’t want to think where else you’d feel good going in.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it…” You sang, taking in your weakened, yet euphoric state. He felt so heavy, gravity weighing down on him as you propped up against his chest, gently stroking the back of his head rather possessively. You stared off into the distance as you continued to coo him, feeling yourself start to drift into a climax.

His jaw was growing tired from your godforsaken dick, but goddamnit your words might as well have been enchanted by a succubus. You fixed your hazy gaze at his pathetic state. Was this really the same Reiji that’d hone in at your mistakes and feast on it like an all-you-can-eat buffet? Reiji whimpered as he felt you tense up.

You look down at him and lock eyes with the second eldest. The two of you share a knowing look, and Reiji felt his body seizing up as a white, hot relief hit him like an oncoming truck. White, warm strands of cum burst into his mouth and your body quivered as the both of you felt your bodies jolt against one another.

You gasped for air as Reiji did the same. You looked at him, stealing a glance at his mouth. On the corner of his lips was a spilled drop of cum that his mouth failed to contain.

The two of you plopped into your bed from exhaustion and the fatigue coming back for a second record. Fighting every urge to doze off, you cover Reiji with your blanket and huddle him close to your body. His breathing is rapid, and you hear a faint chuckle underneath the chunky fabric.

“…I will poison every food item you’ll eat tomorrow.”

[helpimstuckposting]

Advice

Song: Advice by Cavetown

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Playlist

A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z

—

Eddie wasn’t unfamiliar with bad days. In fact, he’d say he was intimately familiar with them. Biblically, even, since they’d fucked him so often. And usually he was able to adjust, to improvise, to calm down and save any serious outbursts for the privacy of his own bedroom. Or van, depending on how truly awful the day was.

Today, he didn’t make it to his room, or to the van. Instead, he walked right out of his last class of the day and trudged straight to the picnic table in the woods behind the school. He figured he had around twenty minutes to get his anger out before someone tramped along looking to buy weed. He was too wired to sit, so he set his little black lunchbox on the table, and started pacing back and forth to try and relieve some pent up energy.

He was off to a rough start from the second his alarm went off. Or didn’t go off, in the case of that morning. Somehow, the stupid electricity in the trailer had gone out at some point in the middle of the night and reset the clocks, making Eddie an hour late to the start of his day. He’d skipped breakfast, and forgot his smokes in the process which meant that all of his teachers were more unbearable than usual.

Then, he skipped lunch to run across the street and buy a pack from the convenience store to take the edge off, but apparently his dad was in town because the man behind the counter had called him Junior with that face people made when they treated him like shit splattered across their shoes. If Al was in town that meant either he hadn’t bothered to check in on his son, or Wayne was keeping it from him and both options pissed Eddie off.

On top of that, Mrs. Click had lost his essay and then claimed he’d never turned it in which was bullshit because Eddie knew for a fact he’d turned it in on time, he’d stayed up all night writing it. In between classes, someone had graffitied “Satanist Freak” on his locker, which normally wouldn’t bother Eddie at all but then he’d gotten yelled at to clean it up, like anyone would think he wrote it himself. The authority figures in this batshit town were driving him insane.

As if that weren’t fucking enough Tommy goddamn Hagan (who Eddie was pretty sure had written the little love letter on his locker) had deliberately poured his entire water bottle on Eddie’s lap in the middle of class, and then played it off as an accident to the teacher. He’ll probably get detention for ditching after that, but Eddie was fucking exhausted. Why him? Why did everything have to hit the fan all at once? Couldn’t he just have one bad thing happen per day? He’d take one bad thing a day for the rest of his life over all the shit piled on top of him in the last seven hours.

And! Eddie was sure the fact that his father was in town would bite him even harder in the ass until the son a bitch left again. He couldn’t stand the thought of going home to see his smarmy fucking face after the last time he was in town and conned Eddie out of his savings and the contents of his lunchbox. It was fucking ludicrous that the town hated him for his father when Eddie got the worst end of the stick his whole life. At least the other people could avoid him, could walk away or, hell, even call the cops on the bastard if they wanted. Eddie couldn’t ever get away from him. Every time Eddie even looked at a mirror, Al Munson looked back.

He could feel the buzzing adrenaline bubbling up behind his eyes, stabbing its claws into his sinuses. His hands shook as he tugged them through his hair and he could not let this shitty day make him cry. He wasn’t going to let the town win, let his teacher and Tommy win, let Al Munson win. He clenched his stupid shaking hands into fists and dug his nails in as hard as he could, trying to steady his breathing, but it didn’t work. He could feel the build up behind his eyes and all the shitty events of the day clogging his throat like it was strangling him from the inside.

He let out a frustrated yell, grabbing his lunchbox from the table and using all of his energy to chuck it across the little clearing, across the lunch table, and straight into a tree. It smashed against the bark with a rattle, hitting the ground without even breaking the latch. Eddie knew the thing wouldn’t break, though it might have been sporting a few new scratches and a dent. It made him feel a little better, though. Maybe he could understand why someone would do sports. Maybe. Sometimes.

“Damn, you ever try shot put?” a voice called out through the clearing.

Eddie whipped his head around to find the king himself, Steve Harrington sauntering towards the picnic table. Schools out then, he thought, grumbling in his mind like a child. Of course The King would need to stock up, it was a Friday after all.

“With an arm like that, you’d do pretty well,” he added when Eddie didn’t respond.

“I don’t know what the fuck shop put is, but I’m not in the mood, Harrington,” Eddie called back, crossing his arms over his chest and stomping a boot onto the wooden bench next to him. The second he did, he felt like an idiot, like some kind of alpha-male posturing to seem tougher. He put his foot back on the ground.

“It’s shot put, it’s… never mind,” Steve cut himself off. “Anyway… uh.” He looked nervous, rubbing his hands awkwardly before shoving them into the pockets of his pristine blue jeans. It eased some of the tension in Eddie’s shoulders. He wanted to laugh. He made the king nervous, made him look a bit scared, even. It was comical. Wayne would think it was downright hilarious.

“What do you want, Harrington?” Eddie called. The King was still standing by the treeline, a good few yards of space between them.

“Do you have any joints left? Maybe a baggie of flower or something?” he responded. Eddie rolled his eyes. The royal court was predictable, as always.

“Like I said, I’m really not in the mood.”

“I’ll pay extra,” Steve added, shrugging his shoulders. Eddie paused, contemplating the offer. He did need the money, he always needed the money, and he knew Harrington was good for it. Eddie could probably double the price and The King wouldn’t even bat an eye.

He sighed, glancing at his toppled lunch box on the ground. Eddie rolled his eyes, deciding the money was worth more than his peace and quiet. He cracked his neck before trudging over to the black metal box, noticing Steve’s flinch as he did. The boy tried to cover it, Eddie could tell, but he wasn’t quick enough and Eddie couldn’t quite hide his smirk as he snatched the lunchbox up and walked back to the table.

He sat down, placed the container on the rough wooden surface, and gestured to the bench opposite him. The King paused briefly before joining him, sitting down quietly and pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

“How many joints?” Eddie asked.

“How many you got?”

He glanced into the lunchbox, stomach aching as he shoved the actual lunch aside to open the little metal Altoids tin. He had four joints left, a few less than Harrington’s usual haul, but enough. He gathered them all up, pulling out an empty baggie and wrapping the joins up tight. Eddie held up the baggie for Harrington to take before grabbing another, prepacked with an eighth of flower.

“Eighth or a quarter?” Eddie asked, grabbing a second baggie.

“You got a half?” Harrington asked, squinting a little like he was sheepish to ask the question. Eddie would have found it cute if he wasn’t so annoyed at that moment. He rolled his eyes instead.

“If I had a half, I would have asked, Princess,” he snapped. If Harrington had looked sheepish before, he looked downright contrite now. It made Eddie feel a little bad, but he held his glare without backing down. The world had been shit to him today, he didn’t have to care about hurting The Kings feelings.

“An eighth or a quarter ounce, Harrington?” he asked again.

“Quarter,” he mumbled. Eddie pulled both baggies out, holding them toward Harrington to take. He didn’t. Instead he looked from the baggies to Eddie’s face, eyes contemplating something and Eddie hoped like hell that Steve wouldn’t ask, but like everything else today, the world didn’t listen.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and Eddie’s anger reared its ugly head again.

“I don’t want to talk, Harrington.”

“Are you sure? Because you kind of look like you need it. Are you okay?” he asked again.

“You want a hint?” Eddie snarked, snatching the baggies back. If His Highness wasn’t taking his gold then Eddie could keep it for himself for all he cared. “Are you hungry?” Eddie asked him.

Steve looked confused, his brows scrunching together like he was trying to connect the pieces of conversation that was running away from him.

“I… why?” he asked.

“Because you can eat my fucking shorts, Harrington. I said I don’t want to talk, so take the weed, leave the cash, and leave me the fuck alone,” Eddie spat, tossing the baggies between them on the table.

“I just mean, maybe I can help! Give you some advice or-“

“I know you’re trying to help, it’s very nice of you to pay your loyal subjects some attention but you don’t know anything about me, okay? I don’t need your advice, and I don’t need to explain myself to you.” Eddie gave up, decided this was a failed transaction and he should pack his shit and leave. He made a move to stand, reaching for the baggies on the picnic table, but he was beaten to the punch. Harrington grabbed the baggies out from under his hand, quickly tossing way too many bills on the wooden table. Forget double, Eddie’s pretty sure it was enough for a whole ounce. He stared, dumbfounded, at the cash in front of him and looked back up at Harrington. He was standing now, just a step away from the bench he’d been sitting on a second ago.

Eddie snatched the cash and tried to reign in his expression. He wasn’t really sure what his face was doing, couldn’t tell if he’d schooled it or not, but Harrington wasn’t giving anything away.

“I wasn’t trying to pick a fight, I swear.” He held a hand up, like Eddie was some kind of rabid animal Steve was trying to placate. “I just… I know what it feels like to not have anyone to talk to. So, like… if you need an ear-“

“I don’t ’need an ear’, Harrington, I need you to get out of my face, I need your court jester Tommy to leave me the fuck alone, and clean my locker while he’s at it! I need Mrs. Click to find my fucking essay because I’m already failing her class, and I need people in this godawful town to stop treating me like I’m just a clone of my father!” Eddie yelled. He huffed out a large breath, startled at his own outburst. By the glint in Steve’s eye, it was exactly what he’d been trying to pry out of Eddie. He looked pleased that he’d just been screamed at, and it just pushed all of Eddie’s buttons.

How the fuck did he even do that? They didn’t talk. Steve bought weed from him before his parties, and ignored him in the hallway. That was it. That’s all they ever were. So how the hell did he just get Eddie to tell him what was bothering him? Maybe the town was wrong, and they got the wrong witch when they put Eddie up on a pyre. He felt the sudden urge to yell ‘I saw Goody Harrington with the Devil!’. Somehow, he didn’t think that would make this conversation any better.

Eddie crossed his arms like a petulant child, and he couldn’t help but notice Steve slot his hands onto his hips like some kind of scolding housewife. Everything Harrington was doing made Eddie feel smaller and smaller.

“Just… leave me alone,” Eddie sighed, feeling deflated. “I don’t owe you anything, okay? You’re not my friend, you’re not my mom,” Eddie rolled his eyes and stared pointedly at Steve’s soccer mom stance. A blush bloomed across his cheeks, and Eddie watched as he took the hands off his hips and shoved them back into his pockets. Eddie couldn’t decide if Steve’s jeans were more dad jean or mom jean but he shook the thought from his head before he figured it out.

“Right… well,” Steve sighed, pulling a hand out of his pocket and patting it lightly on his thigh. Eddie had a sudden flash of Steve wearing horn rimmed glasses, saying ‘Welp, I better hit the road’, and Eddie couldn’t figure out when Steve had gone from King to Single Father during the span of their conversation. “Thanks for the… stuff,” Steve said awkwardly. Jesus Christ, Eddie needed to get a hold of himself and quickly. It was ridiculous how endearing he was finding this, and being weirdly attracted to a father figure act was not something he needed to be unpacking right now.

“Thanks for the cash,” Eddie said back, just as awkwardly tossing a salute in and immediately wanting to jump off a cliff. He needed to get out of here. Quickly, he packed up his lunchbox, tossing the cash inside before latching it shut. He turned back toward the direction of the school parking lot and prayed that Steve would let him go without another word. He tried not to dwell on the fact that it felt a lot like tucking his tail between his legs.

“See you next Friday!” Steve called out behind him.

Eddie was halfway back to the trailer before he realized the weight in his chest was significantly lighter than it had been all day. He tallied it up to Steve being in league with the devil. They’d go back to not speaking in the hallways, and he’d forget all about their conversation today, and that was it. Eddie just hoped he’d forget it too, and tried not to think about exactly how many witch’s marks Steve might have that Eddie couldn’t see.

—

This was inspired by me being unhinged and thinking of Steddie literally every single time a song came on from my playlist so I wanted to challenge myself and see if I could write 26 of them. If anyone wants to try this challenge, go for it! I just thought it would be fun. I linked the playlist above, and I might add or subtract songs to it depending on how I'm feeling

Tagging some people who might be interested or helped me out with picking songs! Thank you for the suggestions (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@estrellami-1 @weirdandabsurd42 @sirsnacksalot @devondespresso @captncalamity @sluttysteddie @blahblah-hilariousname-blah @cringevalue @thereallifecath

[zeroseuniverse]

It Was an Accident

WC: 482

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (hinted at really.) OT7 w/o Joon X reader platonically

IB: Brooklyn nine-nine

“Wait for it…” Jungkook said, watching the clock tick.

“Wait for it…” Taehyung murmured as he also watched the clock tick.

“9:01 She’s officially late!” Jimin announced, causing everyone to join the three, “Alright let’s do this!” He added, holding his hand out to gather the money from his co workers.

“Okay, Jin , you first!” Taehyung addressed and Jin shrugged in boredom, not seeing the excitement.

“Alarm didn’t go off.”

“All three alarms?” Jimin challenged, taking the money from him.

“All with battery back ups?” Jungkook added, taking a sip of his banana milk, “Anyone have a serious theory?”

“Oh she was taken in her sleep!” Hoseok offered, earring scared lookes from the maknaes, wow that was a dark turn.

“Way more plausible than the alarm clock theory.” Taehyung said as he titled his head in thought trying to imagine the situation.

“Maybe she tucked herself into bed too tight and got stuck?” Taehyung grinned, before Jimin shook his head in protest.

“She totally got laid last night and was too worn out to get up early.” Jimin grinned as everyone else looked at him in disgust.

“Maybe she fell into another dimension where she’s actually interesting.” Yoongi said from his desk, where he was resting his head against his cheek, his eyes closed and breaths steady, you’d honestly think she was asleep. 

“It’s nine a.m why is nobody working?” Namjoon asked, coming out of his offic in confusion.

“She’s a few minutes late, we’re trying to figure out why.” Jimin explained, collecting the money from his other co workers.

“I’d like to play, I think someone turned her alarms off accidentally and she didn’t wake up on time.” He offered, making everyone look at him oddly.

“Interesting theory, but you’re all wrong. She’s obviously been abducted by aliens being probed as we speak.” Jungkook grinned proudly, and seconds later the elevator dinged, opening to reveal a disheveled and annoyed woman.

“There she is, where have you been? We have been worried.” Taehyung asked faking a worried tone as he fretted about taking her jacket off. “Do you care to explain yourself?”

“I’m just 70 seconds late, not a big deal, don't worry about it.” She said breathlessly.

“You will tell us. And you will do it now.” Jin said sternly, wanting to be right.

“Someone turned off all of my alarms when I asked him to set a timer last night for dinner.” She said, glaring at Namjoon, everyone gasping in shock turning to look at their boss with gaping mouths.

“It was an accident.” He whined, running off to hide in his office, not before yelling over his shoulder, “Bring me the bet money at lunch!”

She huffed and crossed her arms at his antics before pulling out her key ring, where she plucked up a singular key that everyone recognized as Namjoon’s office key with a grin.

[crappymixtape]

move like water

it took so damn long, but finally you saved up enough to get your own place, and while it’s nothing fancy it’s yours, all yours, just like steve •  *18+ only | (  1.7k, smut all the smut, a sprinkle of fluff, established relationship, steve x you, steve x reader )

M O V E L I K E W A T E R 🎶 make you mine, giveon

Before the alarm went off at your bedside you felt Steve crawl out from under the warmth of the sheets, your body missing his as soon as he moved away from you. He was so much better at morning than you were, up with the sun while you protested against the soft light falling in through your bedroom window, but at least it made for a beautiful view.

Watching him shuffle his way to the bathroom, grey sweats hung low on his hips, he ran his hands through his hair and loosed a yawn. The muscles along his back tightened as he stretched his hands over his head and you couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corners of your lips. How in the hell were you so lucky?

The soft static sounds of the shower mixed with whatever song was playing through the radio on the bathroom counter rubbed against your eardrums and you heard the glass panel of the shower close. Shutting your eyes for a minute you thought about lying there like you usually did, dozing for just a second more, but you couldn’t relax. Steve’s morning hair, the way his hips moved as he lazily walked across the room, the kisses he pressed to your forehead. Lifting your head you glanced at the clock.

7:48am. Plenty of time.

Dragging yourself out of bed, one of Steve’s giant oversized shirts dancing just above your knee, you traced the same path he’d walked to the bathroom.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Steve called over the shower door as he heard the door close. You could hear the grin on his lips, his blurry figure going through the motions of washing his hair.

“Gross,” you teased, grabbing your toothbrush and quickly running it through your mouth, leaning against the counter.

Steve laughed as you saw him turn and start washing out his shampoo, “I’ll make a pot of coffee as soon as I’m done, that should help.”

You hummed a reply and put your toothbrush back in your cup. “Coffee and…” you trailed off, fingers looping around the lace of your panties as you stepped out of them, pulling his shirt over your head.

“Breakfast?” he called back, tone matter-of-fact.

You couldn’t help laughing, your face flushing as you realized what you were doing, fingers curling around the glass panel of the shower and rolling it open. “Does this count?” you asked, peeking in at him as you stepped first one foot then the other into the steam with him.

“Does what coun-” he turned to call back to you, but stopped short when he caught sight of you, jaw slack and nearly dropping the bottle of conditioner he was now squeezing down into the drain.

You felt your confidence swell as you watched him watching you, slowly taking the bottle from his hand to put it back on the ledge and closing what little space there was between you. “This,” you grinned, pressing your lips to his.

He was impossibly wet, mouth slipping against yours as he caught your bottom lip between his, hair stuck messy across his forehead. “Oh yeah, yeah this definitely counts,” he murmured, pressing a grin into you, hands sliding across your lower back, pulling your hips into him.

Reaching back Steve turned up the heat on the faucet, kissing away the beads of water that had started to settle on your cheeks, your lips, your chin, your neck. His fingers pressed into the soft skin at your hips, nose nudging at your jaw, asking for more access and you gave it to him with the tilt of your head. It was slow, heavy, dragging across your skin and you felt yourself melting into him.

You could feel him against your thigh as he kissed you messy and wet, soft at first, but growing and wanting, needing you and the heat between your legs needed him too.

Steve grazed his teeth over your collarbone, tongue lapping at the water that had gathered there, and you moaned, hot and needy, your hips pitching against his. “What d’you want baby, tell me,” his voice was low, rough against your skin, still pressing and kissing and pulling on your body.

“Touch me, Steve,” your hand grabbed one of his and slid it between your legs, asking – no telling – him to feel you.

His fingers eagerly followed, slipping in the slick he’d pulled from you, and your breath caught in your throat. “Like that?” his lips were brushing against your ear now, other hand wrapping around your thigh and hiking it up to his hip. It opened you to him as he pressed two fingers gently into you, the rough pad of his thumb teasing against your clit, and you thought you might melt with the water that ran hot and dripping down your skin.

Feeling your head tilt back you loosed a moan, loud and blunted against the shower walls as your arms wrapped tightly around his neck holding on for dear life. Steve twitched against you hearing the deliciously dirty sounds that were slipping from your lips and he couldn’t help leaning back to look at you.

You were a sight, hair swept wet adn messy across your cheeks, water clinging to your lashes, your lips pretty and parted as you gasped for air, whispering curses against the feeling of Steve’s fingers inside of you. “You’re so pretty, baby, so good for me,” his words pulled another gasp from you as he picked up the pace, thumb drawing messy, heavy circles against your clit.

The feeling of the water, Steve pressing against you, pouring words into your ears like honey, fingers doing things to you that swore would render you undone. You felt yourself racing faster and faster to the edge, your nails pressing half-moon shapes into Steve’s shoulders, hips bucking into his hand. “That’s good baby, so good, you feel so good, want you come for me,” he murmured against your skin as his lips moved back down your neck, sucking a pretty lilac bruise against your skin, teeth gently nipping as he went and something inside of you shattered.

“Shit, Steve, fuck, I’m gonna come,” and your hips snapped into him as you clenched against his fingers. Biting into your lower lip you swore, his name falling from your lips over and over like a prayer as he slowed, guiding you through each wave of your climax, arms holding you steady as your legs shook.

Pulling his hand from you he let you lean into him, water slipping and falling down your bodies as it washed away your heat, and you huffed a laugh against his shoulder.

“You okay?” Steve grinned, slowly pulling you away from him so he could look at you, still holding you tight around your waist.

“I’d like mornings better if this was my alarm,” you teased, reaching up to wipe the hair from his forehead.

“I dunno, still feel like I’d have to drag you out of bed,” he was laughing a little and leaned back to turn the water off, but you caught him with your hand.

“Wait, I’m not done.”

The look he gave you then was wrecked, his mouth parted in a pretty little ‘o’, and pupils blown, edged in burnt caramel and honey.

You reached over his hand to turned the heat up again before dropping to your knees and taking him in your hands, half hard, but stiffening the rest of the way at your touch. “Christ, babe,” he said through gritted teeth, jaw clenched as his hands tangled in your wet hair. Bringing your lips to him you flicked your tongue out to lick across his tip and a shudder ran through his body. Humming against him you slowly slipped his length into your mouth and paused, looking up at him through your wet lashes.

Steve was a hot mess. Hand bracing against the wall of the shower, the muscles in his bicep tense as he held himself up. Eyes squeezed shut at the feel of you on him. Hair soaked and falling into his eyes. Mouth dropped open and breath hitched. Water dripping down his chest, his stomach, his thighs and onto you.

Starting up a slow pace you bobbed on him, your hands twisting around what couldn’t fit in your mouth, and he loosed a heavy groan. “Jesus, so good,” he swore your name, hips bucking into you as gently as he could manage, and your tongue swirled around him as you sucked in tighter. “Not gonna last long,” he hissed, but he didn’t care, he would drown in this feeling.

He was panting now, blowing water from his lips as his movements grew more frantic, his fingers slipping against the wet shower wall, other hand pulling in your hair. “So close, baby, gonn com–” and then he snapped, hips rocking into you as he filled your mouth and you swallowed.

Your hand tangled with his as you stood, helping Steve find himself in the dizzying bliss that had wrapped around you both. He slipped both arms around you, holding tightly, and pressed sloppy kisses to your forehead as he murmured praise and I love yous against your skin.

“I can make breakfast,” you smirked, Steve’s eyes heavy.

“Mmm, yeah I’m gonna need a minute,” he huffed a laugh. Reaching back to turn up the water again his brows furrowed and he looked up at you, eyes wide. “Uh–”

“What?” you shot him a confused look, “What happened–oh shit!”

Hot water quickly turned to cold and Steve couldn’t scramble fast enough to shut it off, “Fuck, shit!”

Water gone you both stood there for a minute, arms wrapped around yourselves, wet and cold until you couldn’t stand it anymore and started laughing, wrestling over who got to get out first. Steve weaseled his way past you and you opened your mouth to call him a shit, but it stopped in your throat as he turned back around holding your towel out for you.

“I’m giving you the water bill this month,” he teased, wrapping the warm, fuzzy fabric around you.

“Jokes on you, hotshot, utilities are linked to your account.”

Steve looked at you for a split second, as if considering what you’d just said. Humming in thought you gave him a look, weirdo, but then he was flinging a hand out and goosing your ass. “STEVE,” you swatted at his hand and he laughed. “You’re a menace!” and you ran from the bathroom, Steve and his grabby hands chasing after you.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

[2tar]

Rainbow Park Mascots Twin Bell Alarm Clock  ✿  R A I N B O W P A R K

[m3lonpire]

Lullaby

A/N: I couldn't find a GIF for Chihiro... if y'all have any, send them in! Also, I finished Danganronpa V1's first and second chapters yesterday and started on the third one too. So now, I need to write about the sweet lil baby boobop! Also, you might notice a lot of tags; that's so more people can see this lil' oneshot and maybe appreciate it! Also, this is not related to the poll I had a bit ago, the Han Solo one is still in the drafts! I just wanted to get this out of my system. Pairing: Chihiro Fujisaki and Best Friend!Reader. Summary: Chihiro comes to the reader because he had a nightmare. Details: Reader is genderneutral, Chihiro is referred to as he.

You liked the sound of the rain pitter-pattering against your room's windows, but the thunder did sometimes shock you out of your slumber. So what, you thought. You could usually expect when it was going to strike and was able to prepare yourself for it. But, you didn't expect to randomly hear soft knocking on your door. What time is it, you thought. You checked your alarm clock... TWO AM?! Oh jeez, who could possibly be knocking on your door now? Could it be Gonta? He did always have bad timing on asking you to go bug hunting with him... or was it Kokichi? If it was Kokichi, you were going to whoop his arse. But, oh well. You might as well open the door to see who it was. Getting up and putting on the nearest robe, you groggily walked over to the door, opening it to see... Chihiro! "I couldn't sleep. Can I... stay with you?", he said, rubbing his eyes. You giggled upon seeing his appearance; his hair was practically the definition of bedhead, and he wore some oversized blue fleece pajamas you got him last Christmas. "Sure," you said with a soft smile. "Lemme guess, thunder scared you awake?", you asked, sitting on the bed and checking the time again. Two-o-three, it said. "Mmhm," Chihiro responded. "What about you, Y/N? Did it scare you too?". "You bet," you responded. "Thunder scares everyone. It's okay, you know!". Chihiro smiled softly, sitting down next to you on the bed and snuggling down into the warm blankets like a fox burrowing in snow. Smiling, you pet his head and lowered your voice, as he was seemingly very sleepy; "Tell you what, you get some sleep and in the morning, I'll ask Teruteru to make some pancakes." "That would be... *yawn* ...nice," Chihiro quietly responded. "Thanks, big sister/brother..." You smiled widely at the nickname he gave you. It seemed you were now, in his eyes, on the same level as Mondo and Kiyotaka. Tucking him in and petting his head, you turned on some soft music to lull him off to sleep. From now on, you were going to do everything to protect Chihiro. To keep the title of "big sister/brother".

More A/N: So... flipping... CUTE! >W< @ellameloetta

[umbraastaff]

may i suggest "not the villain" by SJ Tucker for the lucretia-barry playlist :O?? the whole song is SO them, but this verse specifically:

Call me what you like, I’ve been as kind as I can be Set off the alarms and bring the sky down upon me You’d think this was the ending; we both have come so far It’ll break your heart how very much alike we are

thank u, i hope u enjoy the song bc it's vv good sdfsdf. it's on both of My Barry and Lucretia playlist (tho i rr need to make more Joint playlist tbh sldkfsd)

-ise

OOOH thats good shit. you'd think this was the ending... augh...

also the whole thing of like... rejecting the given/meant "ending" w the relics.. and.

mustn't try to hide behind a clock no longer chiming fairyland will have its due, regardless of the timing

wow!!!!!!!

[blametheeditor]

Terms Of Agreement | Chapter 4

First | Previous | Next

Run Down: The monster under your bed, the one in the closet, and your sleep paralysis demon fight for custody.

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of sleep paralysis, hallucinations, and sleep deprivation. Mentions of death, murder, and accidental deaths. Mentions of treating others as lesser than, addressing someone as 'it'.

Technical bonding time

_____________________

“F-Fritz!” 

Jeremy’s hug is immediately accepted, Fritz clinging to his best friend even though they saw each other only two days ago. To the redhead, it feels like it’s been a lifetime. “Hey, Jer.” 

“Are you r-r-ready for school?” the taller asks. “I-If you’re not, I’m sure if you a-asked-” 

“I’m ready,” Fritz smiles. Beaks away from the hug to grab Jeremy’s hand to lead him down the street. Not wanting to linger outside his house for too long less three soul hungry beings decide to come outside and demand he better not be late. Or possibly see it as not appreciating such ‘freedom’ and decide to revoke it. “But thanks for asking.” 

“How are y-you? You l-l-look better.”

Fritz would’ve thought Jeremy was just trying to be nice if he hadn’t noticed it himself this morning while starring at the mirror. By no means does he look healthy, and there are still large dark spots under his eyes, but he does look better. Which is weird to think about and not something Vincent, David, or James can claim as their doing. At least intentionally. He has a feeling it had to do with getting a full night’s sleep for the first time since he can remember. 

No nightmares. No shadows lurking in the corner. No sounds jolting him awake. Just dreamless sleep until his alarm clock announced it was time to get up. 

He gives a shrug. “I’m okay.” 

“You won’t be wh-when Mrs. Vance g-g-gives o-our Monday quiz,” Jeremy says, upset himself considering they’ll both be taking it. 

“Why didn’t you remind me!” 

“I f-f-forgot about it until now!” 

And Fritz tries to forget about what’s waiting for him when he goes back home at the end of the school day. Focuses on the fact Jeremy is by his side. That he’s able to go to class like nothing has changed. Get in trouble for not finishing his homework without the threat of death looming over his head. 

Would they care about me having bad grades?

The thought forces Fritz to pay attention even as his teacher drones on about math. His best subject, but not the most entertaining one. 

Do they know about schoolwork and if I have a project coming up? 

Even if they don’t, Fritz can still use it as an excuse to spend more time outside of his house. Maybe he can say doing homework at Jeremy’s house is better for him. 

Would they be suspicious or know I’m lying if I claim to have extracurricular activities?

In case they would, Fritz decides to finally snag the flyer advertising the robotics club. His mom would’ve wanted him to at least think about it, especially after making excuse after excuse to not even check it out. 

It goes by too quickly. Finds himself walking next to Jeremy through the now open gate as they make their way back home. Back to demons who want to eat his sole, and monsters who don’t realize he could die from the simplest of actions, the promise tonight will be far from a restful one. 

“What’d you get on the quiz?” Anything to distract him. 

“I got h-half o-of them wrong,” Jeremy murmurs with a wince. “My dad’s n-n-not going to be h-happy.” 

“We’ll study sometime this week for the next one, deal?” 

“D-Deal.” 

Frtiz smiles up at his best friend in the hopes he looks supportive rather than terrified. It’s taking everything in him not to start trembling now that they’re standing outside his house, the front door wide open. 

Jeremy gives the sight a confused look. “A-A-Are your caretakers w-waiting for you?” 

“Care- um, yeah, they are,” the redhead quickly responds to cover up his own confusion. But off course he’s supposed to have actual ‘caretakers’. A sixteen year old can’t live by themself when there’s a mortgage to pay and food needing to be bought. 

...now that he thinks about it, how did Vincent get the ingredients needed for everything he’s cooked so far? Fritz recognized the meat from when his mom bought it a week ago, but he can’t remember the last time there were carrots in the house. And why hasn’t anyone come by to check on him? 

Questions he’ll be asking, and hopefully these ones won’t make him regret it. 

“Are they n-nice?” 

Ha.

“They’ve been taking care of me,” is all Fritz can offer. Then he steals another hug. “See you tomorrow, Jer.” 

“H-Have a good night!” 

Fritz takes a deep breath as he marches up the steps. Prepares himself for threats, the posibility of being grabbed at any moment, his hatred for carrots used against him. 

At least he was ready for when the door slammed shut, immediately diving to the right and curling into a ball so the gust of wind didn’t have him gaining any new bruises. Just an overwhelming feeling of terror that he tries to settle before facing whatever is waiting for him. 

He has a feeling he’ll never get used to the sight of a giant standing directly overhead. Even though David’s proven he won’t be crushing Fritz beneath the sole of his expensive leather shoe anytime soon, it does nothing to truly ebb away at his fear. 

“Welcome home,” the monster rumbles. 

“Good- h-hi,” Fritz corrects himself. 

David rolls his eyes. “Vincent informed me you would have homework. Where do you normally get it done?” 

So they do know about schoolwork. Or, at least Vincent does and told the other two what to expect from him. Whether or not they want him to keep goods grades is another matter. “The table.” 

“Then I suggest you make your way over there.” 

With a rapid nod of his head Fritz quickly stands up before walking toward the kitchen table, glad there’s no carpet this time to slow him down. He can’t imagine how slow he’d be while being encumbered by his backpack. Thankfully everything he needs is inside it. He’ll make sure to always be prepared, not wanting to find out what David would think about Fritz needing to go to his room to grab something. 

It takes a few minutes due to his concentration to keep a fast pace, but Fritz finally realizes it’s quite inside the house. None of the familiar sounds of Vincent cooking or the three arguing. James and his sleep paralysis demon aren’t in the kitchen. 

“M-May I ask where the others are?” 

“We have better things to do than babysit you all day,” David growls as he steps directly beside Fritz to earn a flinch. “Vincent reassured us you can survive without a warm meal for a night.” 

There’s no elaboration on what those ‘better things’ include. And maybe it’s best he doesn’t know. However, his stomach growls at the thought of not having dinner. Not that he won’t survive, but it’s been a hit or miss for when he’s actually hungry, and he’d much prefer being able to eat whenever he can. Especially because Fritz can make his own food as long as it’s possible for him to. 

David will never open the door, though. Meaning he’ll just need to get into the habit of packing snacks. 

Fritz holds back a sigh as he continues on his journey. Stops when the shadow of the round wooden table falls over him, taking a moment to stare directly up. Feels his stomach twist at the thought of somehow climbing up such a massive height. 

“Um, how do I-?” 

He should’ve known. David’s only tried to pick him up once, and Vincent taught the monster how to do it safely. Yet he hadn’t expected suddenly being lifted up as the straps to his backpack become the only things keeping him from plummeting to his death as the ground gets further and further away. 

Fritz tries to scream as he curls up tightly, pleading his grip doesn’t falter. Somehow being able to recognize it was done slowly enough he didn’t feel like he was going to be ripped from his lifeline, but it still makes his heart stop. Kicks when the table is close enough to safely land. Lets go of the straps willingly in order to roll away and not get injured by his books crashing against him once the fingers released their grip. 

Except his backpack isn’t let go, David watching him with amusement. “I have to admit, the theatrics can be entertaining at times.” 

At least I didn’t end up with a concussion.

He fully expected needing to do something in order to get his backpack back, but the monster drops into onto the table, apparently already bored with it. The only problem is how far the bag fell, landing with a heavy thump. Thank goodness there wasn’t anything breakable inside, but that’s yet another thing to think about. Who knew having three giants living with him would be so exhausting aside from the part of them making him constantly fear for his life. 

Speaking of complicated, because he’s small enough to stand on the table means he can’t use it properly. Which means he’ll have to hunch over and balance a folder on his knee in order to get the worksheet done. It’s either that, or he asks David to see if there’s a way they can compromise. 

Before he can even think about actually asking, a stack of papers thick enough it could crush him are suddenly dropped onto the table, eliciting a scream as it causes the entire table to shake. 

“Move,” David commands as he nudges Fritz with a finger. “For such a miniscule thing, you certainly know how to constantly get in the way.” 

The teenager doesn’t argue as he quickly darts closer to the center of the table. Even though he hadn’t realized he had apparently been in the way. Or this was the first time he truly had been. All that matters is keeping the being who will be visiting him tonight as happy as possible so there’s no reason to cause extra suffering. “S-Sorry.” 

Fritz tries not to watch papers capable of causing much more than a simple paper cut. Walks away from the giant already focused on his own work before finally settling down himself. Can’t help but flinch at the sound of a pen being used to write sounding more like a torture device as it berates his ears. 

Somehow, this is what makes him feel the most out of place in his own home. His heart clenches when Vincent cooks because that’s something his mother should be doing. But seeing David use the table properly while he’s barely big enough to be a paperweight, it drives in the fact this isn’t his home anymore. And it never will be. Because he’s going to lose his soul, and then it won’t matter. 

I need to get my homework done.

Deep breaths. Take things one step at a time. This is his new normal now. 

Despite the amplified sounds of motions Fritz himself is doing after beginning to fill in answers to his math problems, he manages to mostly ignore it. Flinches whenever David growls or balls up a paper, terrified that will happen to him, he’s able to concentrate. Finish up math and move onto social- he'll save that one for later. But he’ll try to get through English. 

David suddenly stands up from his chair. Leaves the table without a word as Fritz yelps as he falls onto his side from the unexpected earthquake. 

A quick look at his phone barely holding on to its battery life leaves him blinking in disbelief about four hours have passed. The longest he’s ever done something without deciding to do something else instead. Good news, all of his homework’s finished and a few paragraphs of the essay due next week written. Bad news, his body is not happy, both from sitting in such a contorted position for so long and the fact he hasn’t eaten since lunch at 11 this morning. 

“Here.” 

Fritz jolts before staring at...a plate balanced on David’s finger. Too confused at the sight to take it. 

“I thought-t-” 

“I said warm meal,” David sighs. It’s the clear annoyance that has the teenager quickly grabbing the plate. “You’ll have to deal with cold left overs.” 

He recognizes the bacon and eggs from yesterday morning, the plate he left untouched after spotting it in the fridge this morning in favor of making his own hashbrowns and toast knowing there will be almost no other time when he’d get to cook. 

True to David’s word, both the plate and food are cold. And Fritz quickly begins eating even after noticing the lack of a fork. 

With work done and the howling from his stomach quieting down, Fritz finds himself looking at the documents David still has spread out. Staring at symbols he’s never seen before. Ones that start to move. 

“Don’t stare at them too long,” the monster snaps with a glance at the startled teenager. “These aren’t meant for mortal eyes.” 

“W-Would it forfeit the custody battle?” Fritz asks. Terrified he almost made even bigger enemies with those who already want him dead. 

David suddenly laughs. Dark and sinister. Aims a sneer down at the cowering figure, becoming more like a soulless monster rather than an annoyed business man. “Oh no. You’d simply lose your mind.” 

It can be said Vincent terrifies him the most. Out of all three, Fritz is most familiar with his sleep paralysis demon. Is well aware what the demon’s abilities are. And due to James making it blatantly clear he views Fritz as nothing more than an object that’s just out of reach instead of a person with thoughts and feelings, it earned the monster under the bed second place on the terror scale. 

David still terrifies him, but it’s not as drastic as the other two. While James may be clueless when it comes to certain things, the monster in the closet tends to come off as incompetent. A genuine threat, just incredibly likely to accidentally kill him before he chooses any of them. 

But now? One on one? It’s clear he completely misjudged David. 

“James might’ve been right,” the monster muses, watching Fritz tremble. “It seems like you don’t have any manners. Not when your eyes wonder where they shouldn’t be.” 

He didn’t see the hand reaching for him until fingers are pinching his chest and back. Fritz doesn’t even kick as he’s lifted up, only attempts to hug the finger as tightly as possible to ensure he doesn’t die when he’s inevitably let go. All but whimpers at the sight of pure black pupils staring at him with indifference. 

“I believe a lesson is in order. You clearly wanted to read my documents, so why don’t I just let you?” 

No, please, I’m sorry!

Fritz clenches his eyes shut tightly, refusing to open them as vertigo makes his stomach flip, knows he’s been lowered closer to the symbols. 

“Come now, Fritz. A bit disrespectful to not appreciate my kind gesture, don’t you think?” 

“I-I-I'm sorry!” the redhead pleads as he frantically shakes his head, the motion making him dizzy. “I’ll never-r do it again! Please! I'm s-sorry-!” 

Fritz screams as he’s let go, eyes opening to see the unimpressed look right before he slams onto a semi-hard surface. One that leaves him gasping for air after painfully knocking it out of him. Nothing’s broken, though, no internal organs ruptured. 

He feels the now familiar footsteps of a giant carrying him somewhere. Coughs in pain as he’s slid off what he finally realizes was a hand. 

“I suggest you get some rest,” David says. Makes Fritz flinch as a finger invades his space. Realizes it was to nudge open the door to his room. “You’re going to need it.” 

Fritz doesn’t wait for the monster to leave. He dives into his room, shakingly slams the door shut, and barely manages to make it to his bed before going limp. But despite how exhausted he is, his body can’t stop the trembles as he falls into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

[undyingghoul]

Surprise Surprise

Pairing: Mountain x Phantom Warnings: Blood, scratching, use of the term daddy, subspace (Phantom), anal, anal fingering Word count: 2,000 A/N: Remember the ficlet thing I posted yesterday from Comet with Mountain/Phantom and the prompt "Let me hear you make that sound again."? Well. I did a continuation...

Phantom glanced over at the alarm clock on his bedside table with slightly blurred vision. Mountain should be back and making a B-line to see him any moment now. His head spun and he had never felt so floaty and light in his entire life at the ministry. But it was all in the best way possible. He’d never felt so good in his life. He took a few breaths to try and get some sense of clarity in his subby brain, but his brain was having none of it. He was fine with that though. He liked feeling like this. He liked doing this to himself. It only took a few videos, re-reading messages, and at least an hour or so of teasing and playing with himself to slip into subspace. He’d consider himself a pro at doing that with how often he did it and how often Mountain commented on his ability to do it. It proved useful for him and Mountain and made for some fun times. Currently sprawled across his bed without a single piece of clothing on him he could feel the ghost touches and vibrations from the toy he had used to rile himself up in the first place. He bucked his hips and whined, his eyes fluttering shut and his tail thumping against the bed quickly. Using the darkness his closed eyes provided he let his mind replay a video Mountain had sent him months ago. He could hear his breathing quicken, feel his chest rise and fall with each breath. He felt so aware yet so clouded at the same time, just a feather floating in a gentle breeze. He couldn’t stop his hand from running down his chest to his stomach slowly, and from his stomach to his cock. He was beyond sensitive having edged himself countless times in the span of six hours. He failed to hear the sound of footsteps coming down the hall, ones he’d recognize anywhere if he heard them. He also failed to hear the sound of the door opening and the low, guttural growl that echoed through the room. He only realized he was alone when he felt a hand lay on his chest and sprawl out, moving upward slowly to wrap around his throat and give a gentle squeeze. Phantom’s breathing hitched and he opened his eyes to see Mountain towering above him. “M-Mounty..!” Phantom cooed with a happy, lazy smile. His tail only thumped harder against the bed. Mountain looked over the ghoul sprawled on the bed before looking him in the eyes. Phantom did his best to put words together in his head to form a sentence before speaking, knowing Mountain was silently asking him what this was. “S-Surprise…!” Phantom pulled a hand up and placed it around the hand on his throat. “W-Wanted to w-welcome y-you back… K-Know you l-like t-this…” Phantom slurred slightly. Phantom watched Mountain do another scan before he saw the change in his eyes and demeanor. Mountain squeezed only a little hard around Phantom’s throat, pressing in the right spots that made Phantom’s vision blur and a pleasured half whimper half moan leave him. “O-Oh, M-Mounty..!” He rasped.

“You’re such a good boy for me Phantom, doing this all to welcome me back. Daddy’s very, very proud of you baby boy,” Mountain praised, watching Phantom’s eyes roll back a bit until his eyes closed and a breathless moan left him. Mountain removed his hand from Phantom’s neck and stripped, watching Phantom try to bounce back even slightly. “So deep, aren’t you buttercup? I know just how much you love doing that to yourself. Letting me find you like this,” Mountain growled as he tossed his boxers aside and moved around the bed to crawl next to Phantom. Phantom nodded quickly. “Y-Yes, d-daddy! L-Love it s-s- m-much!” He whined as he felt Mountain press against him. The quintessence ghoul moved slowly to grab something that sat near the back of his bedside table, handing it to Mountain once he had a hold of it. “That’s it, good boy. Phantom,” Mountain praised as he took the bottle of lube from Phantom. “You want it bad, don’t you, my darling?” Phantom groaned loudly and nodded, knowing what was next and what he had to do. “Show me.” Phantom slowly pushed himself up, his eyes trying to focus on something as he panted heavily. He fought the urge to moan and whimper as he moved. It felt like he was swaying as he moved, eyes half-lidded and mouth open slightly. He took his time, getting onto his knees with his face pressed into the pillows and the best back arch Mountain’s ever seen to get his ass in the air. Mountain sighed heavily, a sigh that quickly turned into a growl. “That’s my good boy,” Mountain purred, moving behind Phantom and resting behind him. “What comes next, baby?” He prompted, listening to Phantom clear his throat. “F-Fuck… M-Mounty… S-Satanas, p-please…” He begged quietly. “I can’t hear you kitten.” Phantom pressed back against Mountain. “P-Please..! D-Daddy, p-please! H-Ha… N-Need you… F-Fuck m-me… P-Pretty p-please!!” He begged louder. Mountain opened the bottle of lube and coated his fingers with it, capping it and tossing it aside. He felt Phantom shiver. “Atta boy. Soon my darling… We gotta get you warmed up first, yeah?” Mountain said and Phantom nodded. “Y-Yes d-daddy…” He whimpered softly as he felt Mountain’s fingers stretch him in the best way, pushing back quickly and letting out a loud, raspy moan at the feeling. “You could just fuck yourself on my fingers, couldn’t you?” Mountain hummed, watching Phantom nod as he did just that and only drive himself deeper into subspace.

Mountain had two fingers at first and added a third, then a fourth, watching Phantom shake and listen to him moan, whine, and whimper. After a while Mountain stilled Phantom, hearing him cry out in protest. “Patience, Phantom. What you want is next,” Mountain said as he grabbed the bottle of lube once more and poured some in his hand before once again capping it and tossing it aside. He covered his cock in lube before lining up and tapping Phantom’s ass gently as a warning, then slowly pushing in. Phantom found Mountain taking too long and pushed back again, taking Mountain at a speed that made Mountain gasp softly and hold Phantom against him. “Shit, Phantom!” He cursed, digging his claws into Phantom’s hips and breaking through the skin. Mountain listened to the moan that tore through Phantom at the feeling of pain and the warmth of blood slowly rolling down his sides and to his chest. “Oh you like that, don’t you?” Mountain growled, bringing a hand up between Phantom’s shoulder blades and digging his claws in gently. “P-Please, p-please please p-please!” Phantom begged. Mountain clawed his way down Phantom’s back with enough pressure to cause red marks and some blood to pool and roll slowly. Phantom started crying, thanking Mountain over and over as Mountain quickly began to move his hips and claw his back. Phantom felt so, so good. He just knew he’d be absolutely fucked out and left utterly ruined after this, and that’s exactly how he liked it. Mountain knew just what he liked and he couldn’t get enough of it. He could feel the pressure building rapidly and he knew that Mountain would get him to cum at least twice during this. “M-Mounty…! C-Close! S-So c-close!” He gasped as he felt his back sting and a warm substance coat his back in some spots.

Mountain growled and pulled Phantom up slightly, wrapping one arm around his waist and another around his shoulders to pin him. Phantom helped keep both of them upright by steadying them with one hand on the headboard while the other had a death grip on the arm around his shoulders. “H-Ha! F-Fuck!” He cursed. Mountain growled again. “Cum for me, Phantom. Cum for daddy.”

Phantom jolted and shouted as his orgasm slammed over him hard, loving how Mountain just kept going. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he begged Mountain to pin him against the bed and fuck him into it. “Such a fucking good boy you are, fuck…” Mountain hissed, stopping for just a second to get Phantom back in the first position and pin him down using his body and hands.

“O-Oh f-fuck! D-Daddy, t-there…! R-Right t-there!” Phantom shouted  Mountain brought his mouth to Phantom’s neck and nibbled and bit it, leaving marks of all kinds. “Such a good boy, taking me so fucking well,” Mountain breathed against his neck. “Always so good for me, always feel so fucking good baby boy,” Mountain growled into Phantom’s ear. “So fucking perfect, my perfect good boy. You are mine. All mine, Phantom.” Phantom couldn’t form words anymore. His brain was entirely mush. But he couldn’t get enough of it. He loved this, all of it. The feeling, the praise, how possessive Mountain was getting, and just how rough he was being. Phantom could feel the pressure reaching the tipping point and tightened around Mountain’s cock. “Cum for me, darling.” Phantom’s body jolted again and shook violently as another orgasm ripped through him, pressing back fully against Mountain. Mountain snarled and pressed himself against Phantom as his orgasm washed over him, holding Phantom as close as he could as they both worked through their mind-shattering orgasms. Once Mountain had gotten through his and the high, he soothed Phantom as he got through his and the high. Phantom was silent, spare for the heavy breaths that left him. He tried to talk but Mountain shushed him gently. “Rest, my love. Daddy’s got you now. Let’s get you a nice warm bath, yeah? That sound good?” Phantom nodded and let Mountain handle him. Mountain carried Phantom to the bathroom connected to Phantom’s room and used his tail to start the water and made sure it was nice and warm. Once the tub was filled enough he turned the water off then slowly stepped into it and sat down with Phantom, rubbing his shoulders as he hissed from the water touching the scratches on his back. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay, I’ve got you. Let’s get you cleaned up and in some warm pajamas,” Mountain cooed softly, letting Phantom rest against him as he washed him up head to toe with care, love, and a gentle touch.

He listened to the quintessence ghoul purr softly, clearly enjoying the treatment. Once Mountain had completely washed and rinsed the soap off of Phantom he started the water draining and grabbed a towel from behind him. Carefully standing up he wrapped Phantom up in the towel and dried himself off with another towel the best he could. “Alright, let’s get your pajamas sunshine.” Mountain carried Phantom out and gently set him on the bed, drying him off and keeping the towel around him while he grabbed one of Phantom’s favorite t-shirts, some boxers, and shorts. He opened another drawer and pulled out his own t-shirt and boxers. He came back over and quickly dressed himself before looking at Phantom. “Can you do it, or do you want me to help you?” Phantom pointed at Mountain and let the towel fall from his shoulders. Mountain nodded and helped dress Phantom before using the towel to clean up the mess on the bed to the best of his ability. He tossed the towel aside and crawled into the other side of the bed with Phantom, holding him close and pulling the blankets up and over them. “I know you are tired my love. You can sleep if you want, I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get you water and food in a bit,” Mountain said softly and Phantom nodded, snuggling up against the earth ghoul. “T-Thank you, M-Mountain…” Phantom said softly. Mountain smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to Phantom’s head. “Of course, darling. Get some rest now, sweet thing, I love you so much, my celestial star.”

[intrulogical]

No, no, please go into detail! I would love to hear more about your thoughts!

I wouldn't necessarily call Remus an alarm clock, but mostly cause I'm pedantic lol and Remus doesn't have that aspect of timing/immediate response like Virgil does. He certainly has that aspect of forcing confrontation with emotional truths Thomas doesn't want to acknowledge but needs to because even if they're repressed they're still affecting him.

Oooh, I love that parallel between Remus and Logan and them representing truths Thomas has a hard time acknowledging, especially because they represent such different truths too. Logan is generally objective, dispassionate truths - the most conscious part of the thinking process seemingly separate from the emotions - which tend to go unacknowledged because emotions tend to have a much stronger sway on humans. While Remus is unflattering emotional truths - those parts of the self that had been repressed into the subconscious - which tend to go unacknowledged because they disrupt the self-image of the ego. They're on totally different sides of the conscious vs subconscious spectrum but still share a similar fate.

Hmmm... I'm not sure calling Remus forbidden thoughts (presumably in contrast to Orange's forbidden emotions?) is entirely accurate, because he doesn't seem to represent only thoughts (like how in wtit he brings to the surface Thomas anxiety over his loneliness). It seems to me like a better distinction would be that Remus is about acknowledging the repressed and Orange (presumably) is about externalizing the repressed. Obviously with some more nuances that we can't really discuss without seeing the specific presentation of Orange first, but I don't think that nuance will come down to thought vs emotions.

\o/ YIPPEE

when i describe remus as an alarm clock, i don't really mean it in a sense of, he has a sense of timing— more of the fact that he serves as a wake up call to both thomas and the other sides. he surfaces repressed ideas, literally serving as thomas' AND logan's wakeup call in wtit.

i also think it's perfect remus and logan are two sides of thought, especially since logan's entire arc is rooted in the fact that he's actively Turning Away from suggesting anything that thomas may dislike because he was proven so incredibly wrong in lntao. not that he still does things he wants, but he doesn't enforce them in the same way he does before, and it's such a perfect opposite to remus who does nothing but Enforce his ideas. idk smth abt these two drive me NUTS

on the last part, when i say remus represents forbidden thoughts, i dont mean he Just represents forbidden thoughts. that's definitely just one part of his many roles, like when we say dark creativity and intrusive thoughts. i do think there's some merit in remus representing the repressed (internalized) v orange as the repressed (externalized)! goes well w the idea i have for orange thus far. it's part of the most recent analysis i made on the guy :3

[slayonehundredninetytwo]

here’s a quick irl story while we wait for the fic

Okay so, one day before a competition my man who doesn’t know he’s my man if you know what i mean gets there after me. which is already abnormal because he’s usually one of the first to arrive. I look up at him, his hair soaking wet like he's fresh out of the shower. because he was. apparently, he had gone through the whole previous day feeling fine, but then when he got home around 4 o clock, he started feeling really shitty and decided to take a nap. He didn't wake up until his alarm went of the next morning sleeping through dinner and his usual shower time.

So he woke up and hurriedly showered before hauling himself to campus for to leave for the competition, with no time for breakfast. worst part is, he was still feeling shitty as the night before. just looking at him you could tell he was unwell. I'm usually rather shy to start up a convo w him, but im 100% a worrier by nature, and seeing his much paler than normal skin (even his freckles were lighter), rosy cheeks, and baggy eyes, i had to check on him. Which is how i knew the lore behind his condition.

We went outside where it was freezing cold and 6 in the morning, before practicing for a bit. It was clearly hell for him. I couldn’t imagine being out there in the cold with a fever like the one he seemed to be experiencing. After practice we headed inside to get in uniform.

As we were all getting ready, i was watching him from afar in the least creepy way possible like i usually do, but he just wasn’t himself. He’s a leader in his section, so usually he’s up and about helping out and being leader-y i guess, but today he sat criss cross apple sauce on the floor, too weak to stand. I just felt awful for him, we had a long day ahead of us, but i knew he wouldn’t miss it regardless of how he felt. 

On our way to head to the actual competition, I caught up to him.

“Do you need a hair tie?” I offered him the extra hair tie i had brought on my wrist specifically for him. We have to pull back our hair, and his is pretty long for a guy’s, but he’s always too shy to ask for one, and we were literally about to leave.

“Oh yeah. Thanks. I forgot. I was gonna come over and ask but I just felt so weak and my head hurts like hell.”

“No problem.” His commentary on how he’s feeling only made me more worried for him.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“Not really.”

I made a sympathetic face.

“At least make sure you’re drinking lots of water.” (I am very much that person who carries around her water jug everywhere, hydrate or dydrate, water is always the solution)

He gave a head nod, as we walked outside. I gave him one last parting note before we split ways. 

“Just don’t die, okay?”

He chuckled at this, “Okay.”

And we split to get on our separate buses.

-

After the competition, we had some chill time, and him and i just so happened to end up sitting next to each other.

“Well, are you feeling any better now?”

“Yeah I am. I didn’t die.”

-

guys please don’t think i’m a creep 😭

🫶