#Adam’s just trying to keep his hair clean out here man

[youreenoughnow]

Actually Ronan turned his hat around backward because he was making fun of Adam, bc Ronan has internalized that as some silly Adam “getting down to business” habit, when it is in fact what Adam does before getting under a car, because Otherwise You Knock The Brim Of Your Hat On The Subframe Or Exhaust Or Something And Lose The Hat Down There, Genius

[pixelated-pogues]

Shaved Confessions (j.m)

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: An innocent moment of watching JJ shave turns into a little more.

Warnings: Fluff, slight suggestive content

Word Count: 1.6k

Gif creds: @cherryusa

“JJ,” I call, entering the Chateau without knocking first. John B always gave me shit for drumming my knuckles against the front door before entering his house, so I’ve finally broken the habit.

“You’re at my house more than you’re at your own, Y/n, it’s really not necessary to knock. Just come on in and let your presence be known,” he’d chuckled one day after answering the door to find me shyly twiddling my thumbs.

“In here,” he responds from the bathroom, leading me towards his voice. I find him hunched over the sink with his toothbrush hanging half out of his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed as he runs his fingers over the stubble on his chin. His hair is damp and disheveled, the towel wrapped haphazardly around his neck indicating that he’d just gotten out of the shower. “You like what you see?” My eyes lock onto his boyish grin for a split second before rolling back into my head.

“Just surprised by the fact that you actually shower. I always assumed you thought a dip in the ocean did the trick,” I quip back, shrieking when his towel whips against my bare thigh in retaliation.

“Oh shut up,” he smiles, throwing the towel back over his shoulders before spitting the toothpaste into the sink so he can rinse his mouth out. “That accusation holds no weight when you’re always telling me that I smell good.”

“Touché,” I hum, pushing past him to sit on the toilet. He gives me the side eye, ensuring that I catch the wink he sends my way before rummaging through the drawers to find his shaving cream. “Damn, you got a hot date tonight that I’m crashing by being here?”

“Bold of you to assume that you’re crashing my date instead of being it,” his eyebrows raise for a brief moment before he returns his focus to smearing shaving cream across his jawline. A sarcastic laugh falls from my lips, but the awkward cough that follows kills it’s credibility. JJ’s lips twitch knowingly, but he doesn’t say anything, instead he drags his razor across the left side of his jaw, ridding it of the stubble.

“That seems like a satisfying process,” I hum after roughly thirty seconds of comfortable silence.

“It is,” he agrees, turning the faucet on to clean cream off the razor. He moves to continue shaving before his movements pause. JJ straightens up, angling himself towards me, “You want to try it?” The question takes me off guard, my cheeks burning under his curious gaze. I opt for nodding rather than trusting my voice, standing from my position on the toilet to meet him at the sink.

“Sure,” I shrug, taking the razor from his hand. “The angle’s going to be a little awkward though.” JJ nods in agreement before hooking his hands around my waist to hoist me onto the counter in front of him. “You’ve gotta give a girl a heads up before man handling her, J,” I giggle, steadying myself with his shoulders.

“Noted, ma’am,” he comments, his own laugh mixing with mine before he situates himself between my legs. “Better, though?”

“Yeah,” I breathe, gesturing for him to look to one side so that I can focus on the task at hand. I gently hook one hand behind his neck to keep my grip steady, unintentionally sucking in a breath before carefully continuing the job. We stand in silence for awhile, JJ’s fingers mindlessly drawing shapes on my legs attempt to steal my focus but I reel my thoughts in rather than allowing them to make something out of such a small gesture.

“You look really cute when you’re focused like this,” JJ points out, just before I’m finished with the last section of his face. My eyebrows crinkle together at his words, a slight scoff escaping my throat while I rinse the razor one last time.

“I do not,” I huff, steadying my free hand against his neck again, my thumb resting right again his jaw. His adam’s apple slowly bobs at the touch, his tongue swiping across his lips before they curve into another smile.

“Yes you do,” he whispers, just as I finish up. I roll my eyes at him, moving to remove my hand from his neck but he halts my movements with his own, catch my hand with his to keep it in place against his skin. “In fact, you always look really cute. God, how’d I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

“JJ, what the hell are you saying,” I murmur, unable to fight the blush erupting across my cheeks. He’s always unapologetically flirted with me but it’s always been in a joking manner. The tone in his voice makes me believe that this time is different. “You sound love sick.” My voice wavers at my own words, disbelief evident as they rolled off my tongue. His eyes search mine for a moment, clearly an act of contemplating if he wanted to say what he was thinking while I remain frozen in place.

“Maybe I am,” he admits so easily, no hint of laughter evident in his words. I never thought he could be so focused on me before, his eyes seemingly swimming over every aspect of my face as an attempt to gauge the effect his words have on me.

“Don’t play with me,” I sigh, discarding the dirty razor into the sink. My voice low and unsteady. I’ve always wondered and desired for his attention to be on me in this way, to solely have his undivided attention as more than just his best friend, but now that this reality is unraveling in front of me, I can’t help but feel as though he’s joking around and tooling with my emotions. “I don’t think this is funny.”

“I don’t either,” he murmurs, casually catching my loose strands of hair with his fingers so that he can hook them behind my ear. His hand reminds in that position, his palm gently resting against my cheek as his eyes focus solely on mine. “Who said anything about playing? I’m being dead serious.” Another sigh rolls off my tongue, but I can’t keep myself from leaning into his palm, my eyes closing at the effortlessly comfort that his touch brings. “God, you’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

Now my eyes are snapping open with his admission, my head lifting to lock with his gaze long enough to assure myself that he’s being genuine. “JJ,” I begin, but immediately close my mouth when he shushes me, clearly not finished.

“God,” he murmurs, dragging his thumb across my jaw. “I’ve been in love with you for so damn long that it physically hurt me to keep it to myself anymore. I know we’re best friends, but I’ve always felt like we’ve been more than that beneath the surface. I just didn’t want to say anything in case I was wrong, but I couldn’t go another second without telling you the truth.” He pauses for a second, sucking in a sharp breath as he’s met with silence. “Please say something,” he breathes, both hands finding a home on either side of my face. My eyes flutter closed while I intentionally take a moment to cherish the feeling bubbling in my chest right now. “Tell me I’m not the only one that feels this way.”

“Kiss me,” I whisper, internally jolting as the words slip off my tongue before I can catch them.

“What?” he chokes out, his grip on my face tightening in the slightest so that I’ll look at him. My eyes flutter open to meet his gaze once again.

I lean forward in the slightest, just enough to where our noses nearly graze one another. “Kiss me,” I command gently, my heart skipping a beat when I catch his endearing expression just before he leans in, breaking the space between us to cement the truth that both of our heart have been living in denial about for ages. That we’re two best friends who were always destined to fall in love.

I gasp the moment our lips collide, my hands instinctively pulling him flush against my body while he takes the opportunity to fight for dominance, winning almost instantly. My fingers tangle themselves in his hair as he trails his lips down to my neck, the unexpected contact earning a breathy moan from me. He reattaches his lips to mine immediately following the noise, quickly hooking his arms under my thighs to hoist me into his embrace again, not breaking contact as he effortlessly carrie’s me to his bedroom and closes the door, pinning my body against it as his fingers swiftly twist the lock. He presses me into the faux wood of the door, slightly grinding his hips into mine with a husky groan.

“JJ,” I murmur breathlessly as he makes his way back down to my neck, his kisses growing more desperate with every passing second. “Hey,” I stop him, hooking a finger under his chin to force his attention onto me. “I’m all yours if you mean everything you said. I’ll let you prove it to me unless you’re gonna go changing your mind tomorrow.”

“Wouldn’t take any of this back if my life depended on it,” he mumbles, before turning around and dropping me onto the soft covers of his bed. “Count this as proof, you’re tied to me forever.”

I blink up at him, blindly shuffling backward toward the headboard with a daring smile dancing on my lips. “Oh, I’m tied to you forever?” I pause, deepening the intense stare I’ve locked onto him while nibbling at my lip. Sparing him a slow, unquestionably seductive, once over before meeting his eyes again, I muster a taunting smile. “Why don’t you prove it?”

The expression on his face twists into something more feral, an exasperated groan bubbling from his chest as he launches himself on top of me, earning a surprised squeal in response.

————————

A/n: I’m currently dusting off some of my drafts in celebration of season fours oncoming release, when reading this one, I simply had to finish and share it with anyone willing to give it a read.

Tag list: @thelocalpogue @maaybanks @drewstarkey @ssjiara @bluebirdsbluebells  @spilledtee    @maebanks  @poguemackin @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @outerbongs @ilovejjmaybank @marvel-writer @astrydis @hijohnd @pogueslandia @scenesofobx

[pr3ttymurder]

God I’m so obsessed with Harvey.. I haven’t written a fic in like a year and I don’t think I’ve ever written smut, please excuse how terrible this is about to be. Takes place during the 10 heart event. Sorry if I still write like a 12 year old wattpad kid. Images not mine

18+ nsfw below the cut TW: Oral both m and f receiving, cringe, fingering, dirty talk slightly, reader is described as wearing a dress and having a vagina.

It had been about six months since you moved into the valley. Usually you had a hard time making friends but you had quickly integrated into life in Pelican Town. You had even managed to woo the town doctor. This morning you woke to a letter from your boyfriend asking you to meet him at the railroad tracks south of town.

As you approached the tracks he told you that you were just in time as a hot air balloon landed next to you. The portly little man who stepped out of the balloon told you that you had two hours and that he would be at the saloon. You wondered if it was hard to pilot a hot air balloon while drunk. You brushed off the thought as Harvey lead you into the balloon, “I thought you were afraid of heights?” You asked worried for your sweet boyfriend.

“I am yeah… but I’m determined not to let that stop me from doing what I want. I’ll try not to be scared.” As soon as the balloon started to lift he was right next to you, his head crooked into your neck. His beard and hair tickled your face and neck, you could smell coffee and cologne on him. He smelled like the forest sandalwood and wildflowers. The setting sun glowed on his skin the orange light bouncing off of his green eyes. “It really is beautiful up here, you can see the whole town. Everyone looks like little ants busily scurrying about their business,” he said. “I can see the farm, it still looks so overgrown. It’s been really difficult cleaning it up,” you sighed. He grabbed your hand, you could feel him shaking as he tried to suppress his fears. “Things take time, my love. Rome wasn’t build in a day.” Harvey chuckled.

You looked up at him, admiring his face… honestly you really wanted to sit on it. “Honey… could I maybe help with your nerves?” You asked, pecking him lightly on the lips feeling the tickle of his neatly trimmed mustache. “How would you like to do that, Darling?” He flushed. “Do you want me to show you? It’ll certainly take your mind off of things,” You teased. His adam’s apple bobbed as he nodded his okay. You kissed him once again, your hand behind his head pulling him in deeper and playing in his soft hair. He groaned into your mouth, you could feel the anticipation in the air. Slowly you started to kiss down his jaw, his neck down his body taking your time to get to where he really wanted you.

You pressed kisses down his stomach, his thighs and over his still clothed erection. You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants pulling them down with his boxers allowing his shaft to spring to life. He looked down at you, eyes half lidded and full of desire. Slowly you stroked him feeling him flinch at the touch of your hand. You could tell he was trying to keep quiet, his teeth bit his lip till it bled. You took him in your mouth slowly bobbing your head, he became undone mewling your name. “Holy Yoba… fuck- darling.” He panted. What you couldn’t take in your mouth you pumped with your hand, wanting to make him feel the best you could. As you kept up your relentless pace his sounds became louder. He started to shake, “baby I’m gonna- cu” He was cut off by his sharp intake of breath as the warm fluids filled your mouth and trickled down your chin. You swallowed but before you could clean yourself up Harvey pulled you up to kiss him. His fluids were still on your face, he could taste himself on you and his mustache became damp.

“I don’t think it would be fair if I was the only one to cum tonight…” He growled, pushing you to the floor. Your dress you picked to impress him splayed up revealing your lace underwear. There was a damp patch where your desire pooled. Harvey’s fingers looped under his fingers scraping your skin stoking the fire that burned within your belly. You whined, “please, please touch me.” He leans to kiss you again, trailing down your neck, kissing over your clothed nipples. His fingers draw circles on your thigh intentionally torturing you.

Harvey ran his finger down the slit of your entrance, kissing your jaw and smiling into your skin when you flinched at his touch. His mouth found its way to your clit where he nipped and sucked causing you to buck your hips up to his face. He licked first in small focused circles around your aching clit and then in long flat strips down your entire vulva. You moaned and screamed his name out to the heavens, certain the whole town could hear who you belonged to. “Hush baby, you wouldn’t want the whole town to know how I’ve ruined you. Or would you? Is that what you want for everyone to know who can make you feel this way?” He teased. Harvey’s middle finger entered you making wet noises as he thrusted it into you at a slow pace. His mouth connected to your clit again, as he entered another finger. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten as he kept a ruthless pace. You felt the pleasure coming in waves through your whole body. Your legs began to shake as he held it with his strong arms face still deep in you like a starving man. Your vision blurred as you reached your climax, your release thundered through your body and he kept his pace as you rode it out.

After you both hand finished you helped each other back into your clothes trying to make it look like nothing had happened. Harvey glanced at his watch, “Oh Yoba, we’re thirty minutes late. How do we get down?”

[act-nat-ural]

Occupied

Chapter Two: The Identity Crisis

(if you want to be added to the tag list lmk!)

chapter 1 \\\ chapter 3

You feel your blood turn to ice. It wasn’t just dumb luck that brought these men to your door, it was a thought-out destination. You narrow your eyes at the man, suspicious of his tone.

“I’m the one who should be asking you that, sir. I’m house-sitting for him. Now, what the hell are You doing here?” You say impatiently. It was easy to forget that they were intruding on you due to the commotion of the bleeding man on your table, yet you remember that they haven’t even properly introduced themselves nor explained their presence.

Two of the men make eye contact with each other, the other nodding in some type of confirmation. The one you were speaking to, the one with the facial hair, raises a single eyebrow at you.

“Enough of the intimidation, miss. It's not going to work with me, so let's drop it and have a civil conversation. Now, if we were to phone Mr. Baker would he confirm your story?”

Ohhhh shit.

No, no he wouldn’t. He doesn’t know you are here, he thinks Eliza is the one house-sitting. You would try to explain the situation but you aren’t sure that these men would believe you. Should you lie? No, you’re almost certain you would get caught in a lie. You can feel the sweat dripping down your neck. You need to think of something and quickly.

You decide the best course of action is to tell the truth. Technically, you haven’t done anything wrong. You still haven’t forgotten that you don’t even know why you have your explain yourself to these men, but you will get your answers soon enough. You must’ve taken too long to get your thoughts in order because by the time you get ready to speak the man in front of you is looking awfully impatient.

“No. No, Adam doesn’t know I’m here.” You state, slowly and concisely. He narrows his eyes at you and goes to speak but you cut him off. You explain the situation and how his sister said you could stay there in her stead, how you are a friend of the family. You look around while you speak, not wishing to gaze straight into his scrutinizing glare. That’s when it catches your eye.

Aha.

You grin and step around him, careful not to walk into the small blood puddle that’s formed on the floor. Damn, you weren’t looking forward to cleaning that up. You reach the wall on the opposite side of the room and snatch the picture frame straight off the shelf. Universal Studios, 2019. Eliza’s family had taken pity on you due to your not having been before and brought you along on their trip. Luckily, there was photo evidence.

“Here.” You hand the framed photo to him, pointing at your grainy face. “That’s me.” He visibly relaxes and hands you the photograph back.

“Sorry for the interrogation, love. You can never be too sure about these types of things.” He apologizes, appearing to be sincere. He’s softened up considerably since you confirmed who you were.

“Thas’ it? She could still be a bloody stalker, cap. Breakin’ into the poor man’s home or somethin’. Lass seems to be the type.” The man on the table slurs out. You scoff. What the hell is wrong with these people? Where are their goddamn manners?

“Listen, buddy, I am most certainly not a stalker. And I’m not the one who’s laying on someone else’s table bleeding out, and not saying why they’re here!” You exclaim, exasperated.

“‘m not bleeding out anymore, hen.” He grins wolfishly, gesturing to his stitches. “Glad to ken you care about little ol’ me.” You just huff and roll your eyes in response. 

“Is someone going to clean that up? Because I don’t think it should have to be me.” You ask, referring to the mess on the tiles. “Also, you still haven’t said your names and what you are doing here.”

The man that the others refer to as captain sighs and nods. “Alright. We’ll explain. Could you show ‘im where you keep the bleach?” He asks of you, nodding his head to the masked man. Jesus, you almost forgot about him. It was hard not to with how quiet he was.

You nod silently and head to the laundry room out towards the back of the house. He follows closely and silently, not attempting to make any type of small talk. You bring him to the cabinet containing the cleaning fluids.

“I’m not exactly sure where it is, I haven’t needed it yet.” You explain a little shyly. He just nods and gets on his knees, searching the small cabinet. You almost don’t notice the blood seeping out of his upper thigh, eyes widening in realization.

“Oh my god! I can get it, just sit down!” He pauses for a moment before listening, sitting off to the side. You find and grab the bleach, quickly closing the cabinet doors. You face him and say, “I’ll go fetch your friend with the first aid kit, alright? Just… don’t bleed on the floor.” He does nothing but grunt in confirmation.

You speed walk down the hallway, bleach in hand. You wouldn’t normally be in such a hurry but you aren’t exactly sure how long his leg wound has been open for. However, when you reach the door to the dining room you hesitate. You can hear the others having a heated discussion in the other room.

“Captain, please listen to me. Telling her our names could have serious consequences. What if someone were to get a hold of her and question her? No offense, but the girl doesn’t look like she can keep a secret.” You hear one voice plead. Offense taken.

“Gaz, I hear you, but she’s seen our faces already. We knew the risks heading here and we did so anyway. Besides, don’t think we’ll be leaving here so quickly. Soap isn’t going anyway with that gash in ‘im and we both know Ghost had a hole in his leg.”

Soap? Ghost? Gaz? What the hell are these names?

You are about to interrupt when you feel the familiar sensation of someone staring and burning into the back of your head. You turn and see nothing but black. You crane your neck up and see a skull staring down at you.

[infinite-orangepeel]

EAGLESCOUT!STEVE/PERV EDDIE WIP EXCERPT FROM CH. 1

Capture the flag is all fun and games until it’s time to clean up the equipment and Steve is wandering through the woods trying not to infect himself with poison ivy like the better half of his troop did an hour ago. Now being treated by their resident Scoutmaster/Chief of Police–Jim Hopper–with calamine lotion and an eye roll.

He’s out on his own.

Strategically voyaging through the underbrush in search of the blue team’s flag. It’s the last one on his list and he’s dying to get back to basecamp to snag a refreshing post-win lemonade with the rest of the troop. Already salivating from the promise of tangy sweetness.

The sun is about to set. Sky blushing pink while the owls hoot from the branches of pine trees. Calling out to each other in harmonious song as the day comes to a close.

Steve’s back is sticky and warm from directing the game. His cheeks are flushed, exposed thighs bitten up by mosquitoes despite multiple reapplications of Deet, and his glasses keep slipping down the bridge of his nose from the slick sweat coating his brow bone.

To be honest, despite the itchy heat and craving for something ice cold down his throat, Steve looks forward to rare moments like this one.

In which he can breathe easily in the reverie of temporary independence.

No one to perform for.

No one to stop him from humming a tune under his breath and stopping every so often to investigate a patch of blooming elderberries.

No one to chastise him for plopping an unwashed piece of fruit under his tongue and taking his time to savor the sweetness.

No one to point fingers and accuse him of gluttony.

Out here in the quiet, Steve can pretend all that exists are the mourning doves, rabbits running from foxes, and the subtle breeze kissing the lakeshore.

He’s content. He’s at peace.

He’s—

He’s choking on his spit at the sight of the terrible scene in front of him—two men dancing with Satan beside a picnic table.

Two men entangled in an inconceivable fashion.

Two men running their hands over each other’s skin; half naked.

Two men–

Together.

Together in the way that only a man and his wife are supposed to be once they’ve married in the church, sworn vows, and moved into the modest house at the end of the cul-de-sac beneath the weeping willows.

Steve racks his brain. Unfolds the information–the proof from the good book–that every belief he holds relies on.

The verse, he thinks–thoughts spiraling out of control, ingrained savior complex kicking in, What about the verse? Don’t they know it? Didn’t their parents warn them? It’s—Hebrews 13:4; ‘Let marriage be held in honor among all, and let the marriage bed be undefiled for God will judge the sexually immoral and adulterous.’

They’ve yet to notice him. As if he’s camouflaged amongst the pine trees. Khaki blending in seamlessly like he’s just another part of the natural landscape.

In a sense, he is.

The first of the two men sinks to his knees like he’s praying for mercy as Steve has done all his life in the back of the chapel. He gazes up at the other man like he is God. Like he alone holds the divine power to cleanse sin, turn water to wine, and carve Eve from Adam’s rib.

Except, Eve doesn’t exist in this version of the story.

Eve is nowhere to be found and Steve feels like he’s entered a parallel universe where none of the former rules apply. Where this strange subset of humanity has scorched the Earth, burned the devoted ones at the stake, and anarchy now reigns.

The second stands above him in the widened prideful stance of a known pariah who foolishly believes he can outrun impending rapture and escape eternal damnation if he is clever and quick enough on his feet.

Steve can’t see his face, because similarly to the vile act he’s committing, the man is concealed by a vexing darkness. Curly tendrils of wild hair obscure his identity.

It’s odd. Unlike anyone else Steve’s ever known. Overgrown and hanging well past his shoulders. It doesn’t make sense.

Only girls are allowed to wear their hair like that. Boys like this—boys like him get sent away for such infractions. Excommunicated for their betrayal to patriarchal norms.

Men are supposed to look like men.

This man does not.

This man seems to toe and test every line and boundary like nothing can touch him.

Steve tries to get his feet to move so he can turn and run and disappear into the forest like the rest of God’s innocent creatures–the field mice, the deer, the fish in the pond–find somewhere hidden to seek asylum and preserve his fragile righteousness.

But latent curiosity slithers around him like a serpent with a fatal bite.

No cure.

No remedy.

Steve has no choice. All logical thought abandons him and perhaps for the first time in his life, he allows himself to simply watch and feel.

The man who doesn’t look all that much like a man leans a ring-covered hand back onto the rickety table like it's his personal throne and feeds his–his—genitals to the parted lips of the first.

Steve brings a hand to his own gawking mouth, ducks behind a tree to better shield himself, and tries to stall his racing heart.

“Lemme fuck your throat, baby. Open wide—wider. C’mon now play nice for me. If you’re not gagging on my cock then you can take it deeper,” the man rasps out as he thrusts his hips forwards and ensnares his black tipped nails into the hair of the kneeling man like vicious talons, “Good boy–there we go. Someone’s learned their lesson since last time, haven’t they? Stay open for me, sweetheart—keep that tongue nice and relaxed.”

thanks so much for reading !! please let me know what you think, feedback is always motivating and helpful 🥰

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[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

Ok so hear me out:

(in this au, Shiro took Keith in at a much younger age)

Adam trying to win Keith over while trying to woo Shiro?

Yes Yes Yes

So if you have seen Lilo and Stich, I’m going for the sibling relationship Lilo and Nani. Shiro is Keith’s legal guardian but big brother <3

-----

“Who is that?” Adam whispered to his classmate, his eyes glued to the boy who entered the room. 

“Huh? Oh, that’s Takashi Shirogane.” 

He sent his friend the side eye, “and how do you already know his name?” 

They rolled their eyes, “he literally got the top score in our entrance exam? And look at him! Total hottie.” 

Adam allowed his eyes to look back at the other guy, who took a seat a couple of desks away from him. He looked his height, maybe slightly shorter. His undercut was fresh and he had to have something in his hair to make the top of his hair fall like that. He was muscular, defiantly someone who took care of himself. 

A sharp pinch appeared on his side and he smacked his friend's hand. 

“Stop staring, it’s rude.” 

“I wasn’t staring!” Adam whispered back harshly. 

“He might not even like men.” 

Adam felt his heart drop, a painful reminder that his dating pool is limited. He stared at his desk, tracing the different colors of the wood with his eyes. “Yeah...you’re right.” 

A comforting hand was pressed on his upper shoulder blade. “Chin up buddy. It’s the first day of the semester, you’re going to meet plenty of people.” 

He gave a weak nod, looking forward as the teacher walked in. 

---

“Adam right?” 

Adam nearly fell out of his chair, being snapped out of his daydream of actually flying instead of learning about how to fly. “Uhh yeah?” He looked at the voice, Takashi staring down at him with an easy smile. Why is he talking to me? And how does he know my name? Take a breath Adam, just in and out. Just like we’ve done since birth. He prayed his inner turmoil wasn’t readable on his face. 

The other guy laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest. Adam wishes he could save it to memory. “We’re partners...for the project?” He nodded his head at the bored. 

“Partners For Developing Your Own Flight Plan To Kerberos!” Was written in black marker. 

“Oh yeah...the project,” Adam took his glasses off, pretending to clean smudges that weren’t there. 

“You were zoned out weren’t you,” Shiro stated. A humorous smile on his face. 

“Wh-what? Me? Zoned out?” He cleared his throat, ignoring how his face felt. “I was just...seeing if you were paying attention...?” 

Takashi laughed again, throwing his head back at the action. “Understandable,” he extended his right hand. “I’m Takashi.” 

Adam took his hand, trying not to focus on the string grip on Takashi's hand. “Nice to meet you.”

---

“So I was thinking after dinner we could start the project? My roommate will be at their partner's dorms so it’ll just be me in mine. But whatever you’re comfortable with.” He held onto his backpack straps as they walked down the hallway. Attempting to keep his persona cool. He was only inviting the hottest man he had ever seen in his life to his dorm. 

She rubbed the backside of his undercut, his eyes on the ground. “I actually will be gone before dinner. I leave the grounds around threeish. Right after our last class.” 

Adam sent him a confused look. “Do you not live on campus?” Freshmen weren’t allowed to live anyways but in the dorms. Juniors and Seniors could get other housing but it would still be Garrison housing. 

“I don’t...it’s complicated.” He smiled. “I can give you my number and we could call later to work on it.” 

Adam nodded, pulling out his phone. He quickly unlocked it and got to the contact screen. “Here.” 

Takashi quickly typed in his info before handing it back. “I can call any time after 19:00!” He started to move down the hall. Leaving Adam still confused.

---

He ran his hand through his hair again. Groaning with the short strands didn’t stay where he needed them to. “Come on! Just stay where you need to be.” He mumbled to himself, hesitantly checking the clock. They were going to call at 19:15 and it was currently 19:13. He didn’t have time for this. 

He grabbed his glasses and sat down at his desk, propping his phone up on his laptop. Opening his notes right as his phone began to ring. He took another deep breath and accepted the video chat. His voice died in his throat as Takashi appeared on the tiny screen. 

He wasn’t in his Garrison Uniform, though he did make that orange work. Instead, he wore a white baggy hoodie. With a logo Adam didn’t recognize and the top of his hair was pulled back into a very, very small bun. “Hey, how was dinner?” 

Adam cleared his throat, did he talk to everyone this casually? “Good...y’know cafeteria food.” He paused, “unless you don’t. But you aren’t missing much.” 

Takashi sent him a toothy grin. “I’ve heard horror stories.” He leaned out of frame for a moment, repapering with his notebook. “Want to get started?” 

They worked for over an hour, making good progress until Takashi looked at something off-screen. “Yeah, buddy?” 

Adam stopped talking, holding his breath unknowingly. 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be right there okay?” Takashi looked back at the camera. “Sorry, can we call it a night? Something came up.” 

Adam nodded, “yeah no problem. See you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, see you!” He ended the call, leaving Adam in a still silence. Who was he talking to? 

---

Adam rubbed his eyes, flopping down in his seat. He stayed up too late watching movies. 

“Wakey-wakey Adam,” his friend snapped his fingers in front of his face. 

“I’m awake,” he crossed his eyes, sinking back in his chair. “Did you start your project?” 

His friend scoffed, “no, it’s not due for like two more weeks.” They gave Adam a quick glance. “Did you?” 

Adam hummed, “started it last night.” 

“Ohh you actually worked with Takashi? Didn’t try and kiss him?” His friend nudged his arm. 

Adam rolled his eyes, sending Takashi a small wave as he entered the room. “Yeah...we got some work done.” 

---

“I have to say,” Iverson took his reading glasses off his face. “This is the best plan anyone has come up with for a project like this.” 

Takashi nudged Adam’s arm, smiles forming on both of their faces. 

Iverson sent them a professional smile. “You two clearly work well together. Would you two be interested in a side project? It’ll look good in your academic folder. Might open more doors in the future.” 

They both nodded, not feeling the need to discuss it with each other. They did work well together. 

They exited the room, smiles plastered on their faces. Each holding a folder of the next project. “So are you heading home? Since Mrs. Dominic's class was canceled?” Adam asked as they headed down the hallway, their shoulders brushing against each other. 

Takashi shrugged his shoulders. “I was thinking about it. But that would put me home almost three hours early. I won’t know what to do with myself.” He chuckled. 

“Well,” Adam stopped walking, tightening his hands around the folder. “We could always get a head start on the project? The libraries are nice to work in, but you have to reserve a study room twenty-four hours in advance...and then I have my...dorm...?” 

Takashi turned to face Adam, having taken a couple of steps after he stopped moving. “Why did you say that like a question?” 

Adam shrugged, praying the other boy couldn’t see the heat on his face. “I just-” he cleared his throat. He needed to get over this unrequited crush. 

Takashi laughed, “we can do it to your dorm. I just need to leave after 15:00.” 

“Copy that,” Adam began to walk. Leading the way. They chatted back and forth as they walked, Adam scanning his badge to unlock his dorm. “Welcome to my lovely abode.” 

Takashi whistled as he walked in, “living in luxury I see.” 

“You know it,” He slipped his bag off, hanging it on the hook at the end of his bed. “Make yourself at home.” 

Takashi took off his own bag, pulling out the chair to Adam’s desk. His leg bobbed up and down. 

Adam slid off his orange jacket and climbed into his bed. Sitting with his back against the concert wall. The folder in his hands. “Did we want to start?” 

Takashi nodded, placing his folder on the desk, his eyes falling on the picture frame. “Awe is this you?” He gently grabbed the frame, lifting it up to his face. 

Adam ignored the embarrassment that bloomed in his gut. “Yeah...I was like five or six. First time I ever saw a plane up close.” 

Shiro stared at the picture, a nostalgic look in his eye. “I guess we all have a moment like there. Where we fall in love with flying.” He put the frame back down. “Is that your mom and...” He trailed off. 

“Mom and Mama,” Adam stared at the folder. He wasn’t ashamed of his familial structure, it was a good way to introduce new people to the topic. 

“They look nice. Loving.” Shiro opened his folder, pulling out the papers inside. 

“They are...what about your family? Your parents?” 

Takashi’s jaw tightened for a brief second. Before he met Adam’s eyes, “a story for another time. Let’s start shall we?” 

Adam nodded, his stomach tightening with guilt. “Yeah.” 

---

It had been a couple of weeks since that day. They worked together almost daily, excluding the weekend. They were always around each other. Joined at the hip. Adam and Takashi slowly became Adam and Takashi. An inseparable pair.

Adam’s leg bounced up and down. Trying to contain his excitement.  Takashi was going to come over again today. Unrequited crush or not, he just liked spending time with him. They clicked really well. And sometimes, just sometimes Adam felt as if Takashi felt the same. 

Iverson entered the room, silencing the students with his presence. Adam’s eyes drifted to where Takashi sat. His seat empty. 

He didn’t show up the next day. 

Or the day after that. 

He let his bag drop to the floor, feeling defeated. He flopped on his bed face first, not even bothering to check his phone. Takashi hadn’t responded at all. Hadn’t even read his messages. He tried not to take it personally. But he was still hurt. He thought they were closer. They had an unspeakable, indescribable connection. Something drew them together and yet. He wasn’t allowed to be there for him.  

He awoke to his roommate entering the room. “Yo, you missed dinner. Are you feeling okay?” 

He pushed himself up, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?” 

“Like seven?” They sat on their own bed, shrugging off their uniform. 

Adam shimmied off his bed, rolling his shoulders. “I’ll head down before the kitchen closes.” 

His roommate hummed, opening up their laptop as Adam exited the room. Glancing at his phone as he walked. A missed call from Takashi. 

He frowned and quickly dialed it back, pushing the anxiety down into his core. The call picked up, “Hey Takashi. Is everything okay?” 

A small voice responded. Hesitant. “Hi, are you Shiro’s friend?” 

Adam frowned, stepping off to the side to let others pass. “Uhh, I...who are you?”

“Shiro’s sick. Can you help?” 

“Wait what?” He ran his free hand through his hair.  “Is he okay?” 

“Ummm, hot but shivering. Sweaty and he won’t eat.” The small voice listed off the different symptoms. “What?!” He called to someone on his side of the call. “Adam!” 

Adam could feel his heart in his throat. Pounding in confusion and concern. He could hear a voice muffle on the other side but he couldn’t make out the words or the owner of it. 

The unnamed voice returned, “Can you help? I live at...” He recited the address quickly and Adam pulled a pen out of his pocket. Scribbling it down on his arm. 

“Sure...I’ll do what I can.” The call ended and he started at the location. It was outside the Garrison, but not too far of a drive. But a walk? That would take him hours. He chewed on his inner cheek. Turning to walk to the one teacher that might help. 

---

“I can’t allow you off campus Adam. You know the rules.” 

“Iverson, please! I don’t know who that was but they sounded like a kid. If Takashi is sick he might need some help.” Adam forced himself to keep his posture straight. His eyes ahead, trying to plead his case. “I don’t know his living situation that well, but given he’s allowed to live off campus I can only assume he’s the sole provided to someone.” It was a shot in the dark but it made sense. 

Iverson's face revealed no information. “Again. I can’t allow you to leave campus.” 

Adam’s face dropped, his shoulders sagging. 

Iverson stood, “I’m sorry. I know you two are close.” He moved to stand in front of the younger boy. “And I’m known for not always locking my office door.” He placed his hand on Adam’s shoulder. “The key to my truck is hanging by the door. I park in spot 34.” 

Adam sent his teacher a confused look. “What?” 

“Takashi Shirogane is a special case. One we teachers are not allowed to discuss. And he trusts you, so if you’re being requested. You should go.” 

Adam nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “Thank you.” 

Iverson stepped back, moving back toward his desk. “You do know how to drive right?” 

Adam moved, grabbing the key that hung by the door. “Sure. It can’t be harder than flying right?” 

Driving was harder than flying. 

He managed to make it to the address in one piece. Trying to ignore the number of traffic laws he broke. He knocked on the door. It was a smaller house, with a couple of lights on. His palms sweated as he waited. Unsure who was going to open the door. 

The door cracked open, stopping on a chain, A younger boy stared up at him through thick raven bangs. “Um....hi?” 

The kid didn’t respond, just stared.  

Adam shifted under his gaze, “I’m Adam?” 

The kid nodded, closing the door briefly. Reopening it fully. “Follow me.” He lead Adam upstairs to a cracked door. He pushed the door open, leaving Adam in the hallway. 

He returned a couple of seconds later, waving Adam in. 

Adam followed, his eyes immediately falling on a very sick-looking Takashi. “Keith...I told you not to call him.” The other man wheezed out, trying to focus on the smaller boy. 

The boy, now known as Keith, crossed his arms. “I’m no doctor.” 

“Neither is Adam.” Takashi let his head fall on the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut. 

Keith looked at Adam, “he wears glasses. He has to be smart.”  

Takashi groaned, “it doesn’t work like that.” 

Keith rolled his eyes, “can you help him or not?” 

Adam nodded, “yeah.” He moved ahead, sitting on the edge of the bed. Leaning forward to rest his cheek on Takashi’s forehead. 

“Adam?! What are you doing-” The other man began to protest, his eyes blown wide. 

“Shhhhh. I’m trying to check how hot you are.”

Keith snickered, which resulted in his brother saying his name. 

Adam leaned back up, “have you eaten anything?” 

Takashi shook his head, “hard to eat.” 

“Drank anything?” 

He shook his head again. 

“Okay,” Adam stood, looking at Keith. “You have any soup?” 

“No.” 

“Okay,” he looked at his classmate, “mind if I steal your kitchen?” 

Takashi didn’t respond, slipping into a shivery slumber. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He looked at the younger boy. “Can you show me the kitchen?” That’s how Adam found himself. Chopping up slightly old vegetables, adding them to a simmering pot. 

Keith sat on the island behind him. Munching on a grilled cheese. “So how old are you Keith?” He slid the carrots into the pot. 

“Seven.” 

“Oh, that’s a good age.” He moved on to the celery. “Where do you go to school?” 

“Down the road. Shiro drops me off on his way to the Garrison.” 

“Ah, I see.” More chopping. “What’s your favorite class?” 

“Hmm,” Keith put the plate down beside him. “Science.”

“Mine too.” He finished the vegetables, giving the soup a stir. “Where are your parents? Away at work?” 

“They’re dead.” 

The room fell into silence. The soup bubbling. “Oh...I see.” 

“Shiro takes care of me. He’s been taking care of me since he turned eighteen. But they passed when I was four.” 

Adam squeezed the spoon he was holding tighter. Everything fell into place in his mind. Why he never stayed past three in the afternoon. Why he never came to campus on the weekend. Why he didn’t live on campus. His reaction when Adam asked about his parents. 

“Shiro likes you.” 

He turned, “what?” 

Keith hopped off the counter, placing his dish in the sink. A small pile of dirty dishes formed. “He talks about you a lot.” 

“Oh...we are good friends.” He turned to focus on the soup. Trying to calm his racing heart. 

“Adam.” 

“Hmm?” 

“What’s a boyfriend?” 

“Oh...it’s a guy you date. Someone you like and may fall in love with.” 

“Oh...well Shiro said he wants to be your boyfriend.” 

He dropped the spoon he was holding. “What?!” 

Keith looked at him like it was everyday knowledge. “Only if I like you.” 

Adam stared at the kid, unsure of what to say. 

Keith began to leave the kitchen. “I don’t have any thoughts on you. But I thought he liked shorter guys.” He left the room, the TV turning on in the living room. 

Adam placed the spoon in the sink. Finishing up the soup while emptying the dishwasher and starting it up with the new dishes. Cleaning up the messes that Keith had created since Takashi was out of commission. 

He dished up a bowl, moving to head up the stairs. Keith curled up on the couch, asleep. 

He headed upstairs, knocking on his classmate's door. “Takashi? You awake?” He made a small grunt sound and Adam, entered the room. “I made you some soup.” 

“Adam, I am so sorry about this. I was just pushing myself too hard and...sometimes.” He paused, catching his breath. 

“Your body will make you take a break.” He set the soup on the bed-side desk. “Come on.” He helped Takashi lean forward, propping the pillows behind him. He grabbed the bowl, lifting the spoon up to the other boy's mouth. 

“You are not feeding me.” 

“You are not feeding me,” Adam mocked back, “just shush and eat.” 

Takashi fought him for a couple of moments before giving in. Letting Adam feed him. “Keith’s asleep downstairs.” 

“Yeah...he does that when I don’t make him go to bed.” 

Another spoonful. “He told me what happened...about your parents. Shiro, I’m so sorry.” 

His face scrunched up, “you called me Shiro.” 

Adam ignored the fire under his skin. “Sorry, hearing your brother say it. It just slipped out-” 

“You can call me it. I only let people I’m close to call me it.” 

“Oh,” another spoonful. “Are we close then?” 

Shiro sent him a weak smile, grabbing his wrist weakly. “I like to think we are.” 

Adam returned to his dorm around two in the morning. Falling on his bed as soon as he kicked his boots off. He didn’t leave until Shiro had eaten, he put the other dishes away and he carried Keith to bed properly.  

Sleep didn’t come easy to him. Every time he tried, all he could think of was what it would feel like to kiss him. 

---

The next Monday rolled around Shiro was finally back in class. Looking more alive than he did when Adam saw him last. He came in right in front of Iverson so they didn’t have time to talk. But Shiro sent him a bright smile when he walked into the room. 

The class dragged on but as soon as it was dismissed Shiro was in front of Adam’s desk. “I am so sorry again for last week.” 

Adam waved his hand in a ‘whatever’ motion, standing while grabbing his bag. “Again, it’s fine. I’m happy you’re feeling better.” He met Shiro’s grey eyes. A hint of pink on his cheeks. Was he flustered? 

Shiro bobbed his head a couple of times. Unsure of what to say but he seemed to be reluctant to move. “I should go...I have a lot of work to catch up on.” 

Adam nodded, both of them refusing to step away from each other. An invisible energy pulling them together. “Did you want some help?” Adam offered. 

“Yeah,” Shiro nodded, a smile forming on his face, “I’d like that.” 

They ended up sitting on Adam’s bed, leaning against each other as Adam helped him with the various assignments. 

Shiro groaned, resting the back of his head on the concert wall. “This is a lot.” 

“Missing of a week of school seems stressful.” 

Shiro closed his eyes, his body relaxed. “It was. I couldn’t do anything. I was so worried Keith was going to set the kitchen on fire. But, at least our neighbors could take him to and from school for me.” 

They sat in more silence. Adam finally broke it. “Why didn’t you tell me about him?” 

Shiro sighed, his eyes still closed. “It’s hard to talk about I guess.” 

Adam mimicked his position, closing his eyes as Shiro talked. His voice rumbled from his chest. 

“Losing mom and dad...it was hard. I was fifteen. I went to school, Keith went to daycare, and then one distracted driver left us spending a night at an emergency placement home.” 

Adam intertwined his fingers with Shiro, giving it a comforting squeeze. 

Shiro didn’t pull his hand back, and his grip tightened ever so slightly. “We were moved a lot. I made sure we stayed together no matter what. And as soon as I turned eighteen I got us out of there. I’m just happy the Garrison worked with me. Let us stay in our family home. I didn’t want to bring Keith on campus.” 

“He’s important to you,” Adam whispered. 

“He is. I would do anything to keep him safe. To make sure he isn’t hurt or left alone.” He released a shaky breath. Leaning to rest his head on Adam’s shoulder. 

Adam rested his cheek on Shiro’s head, “like date someone he approves of?” 

Shiro nodded. 

Adam knew what he had to do. Get Keith to like him. 

---

“What are you doing for Winter break Adam?” His friend asked as they sat down for Iverson’s last class of the semester. 

“I don’t know. I only live like forty minutes away so it’s not like I have to travel.” 

His friend nodded, going on a slight tangent of the layovers they would have to sit through to get home. 

He sent Shiro a small wave as he entered the classroom. Shiro smiled at him and sat down. Adam’s phone lighting up a couple of moments afterward. 

Good to see you. I wanna talk to you after class. 

He reread the message, quickly typing a response as Iverson walked in the door. Spending the entire class wondering what Shiro could want to ask him. 

“So what’s up?” Adam made it to Shiro’s desk first this time. 

“Adam!” Shiro’s face lit up and he stood, a slight bounce to his action. “How far do you live from here?” 

“Like a forty-minute drive...why what’s up?” 

“So Keith loves roller-coaster but um...I don’t.” 

Adam couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping his chest. “You’re in a fight pilot major and you don’t like roller-coaster?!” 

Shiro rolled his eyes, “mock me later. Do you like them?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Great, I was given some free tickets to ‘Roller-Park’ and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me...and Keith of course. He’ll need someone to ride with him.” 

Adam grinned, his heart fluttering in his chest. The perfect opportunity to befriend Keith just fell in his lap. “Yeah. Just let me know when.” 

---

“I want to ride that one!” Keith pointed to the 400ft rollercoaster that could be seen from the entrance. He dropped his hand back down on Shiro’s head. Holding on to the tuff of hair with his fingers. 

Shiro whistled, “that’s a really tall coaster,” he sent Adam a panicked look. 

Adam chuckled, looking up at Keith who was sitting on Shiro’s shoulders. “Let’s start on the smaller ones first okay?” 

They spent the entire day riding rides. Shiro waiting by the exit for them. Kneeling down each time to hug Keith as he ran at him. Adam was having fun. Keith was a good kid. 

“I want dipping dots,” Keith said, pulling Shiro toward the ice cream stand. 

Shiro let the smaller boy drag him along. “What flavor do you like?” He looked at Adam. 

“I don’t need anything.” 

“Come on, the least I can do is buy you some ice cream.” 

“I’m fine Shiro.” 

“Shiro?” Keith tugged on his arm. 

“Yeah, buddy?” 

“Can I have Adam share then?” 

Both men broke out in laughter. 

---

“Ready to try the big one?” Adam ran a napkin across Keith’s face. 

Keith nodded. “It’s going to go fast!” 

“90 miles per hour.” Adam stood, extending his hand to the raven hair kid. “Come on, let’s go check your height.” 

Keith was surprisingly tall enough for the ride and after a twenty-minute wait they were buckled into the coaster. “You ready?” 

Keith nodded, swallowing a bit. “I’m scared.” 

Adam frowned, wrapping his arm around the smaller boy. “It’s okay to be scared. Does it help to know that I’m scared too?” 

Keith looked at him, “you’re scared?” 

Adam laughed, “a bit. But’s going to be fine.” He removed his arm as the coaster began to move. It launched off and after a minute the coaster was stopping. They shared a look before laughing at how messed up their hair was. 

They kept laughing until they met up with Shiro. Keith immediately told Shiro about the ride and how brave he was. He whispered something in Shiro’s ear, causing him to look at his brother with a wide expression. 

Adam wasn’t sure what he said but he figured it wasn’t his place. They rode a couple more rides, Keith grabbed Adam’s hand a couple of times as they walked. 

“I’m going to go get us some food. Come on Keith.” Shiro grabbed his brother's hand.

“I’ll eat whatever you get.” Adam looked around, his eyes falling on something. “I’m going to check something out.” He waited until the two had walked away and made his way over to a game stand. “What do I have to do to get that?” He pointed at the giant blue and black wolf plushy that was hung up. 

The employee smiled at him and quickly explained what he needed. It took Adam a couple of tries but he walked away with the stuffed wolf. 

Shiro and Keith were sitting down. Chomping on chicken tenders and French fries. Shiro’s eyes widened at the giant stuffed animal. Keith had yet to notice. 

“I got you something Keith,” Adam sat the wolf down next to the boy who stared at it with wide eyes. 

He looked up at Adam, “for me?” 

“Yup.” 

Keith grinned at the plushy, hugging it tightly. 

“What do we say, Keith?” Shiro said, looking at Adam with an unreadable expression. 

Keith pulled back some, “thanks, Adam!” He let go of the plushy and jumped up to hug Adam. 

Adam hugged him back, glancing at Shiro who smiled at him. 

---

“He is knocked out,” Shiro plopped on the couch next to Adam, resting his arms on the back of the couch. 

“I’m happy he had fun.” 

“Yeah...me too. He named the wolf Kosmo.” 

“That’s a fitting name. Did he ever let go of it?” 

Shiro laughed, sliding his arm down so it was wrapped around Adam’s shoulders. “No. He fell asleep holding it. I had to pretend to brush its teeth while he brushed his.” 

Adam chuckled, sinking into Shiro more. Trying to keep his heart rate steady. Just two dudes...platonically cuddling. Nothing more, nothing less. “What did Keith whisper to you at the park.” He wasn’t sure why he asked, but something forced the words out. 

“He said that he liked you.” 

“Oh.” He tapped his fingers against his upper thighs. Trying to keep himself composed. “I like him. He’s a good kid.” 

“Yeah,” Shiro adjusted, so he was twisted on the couch facing Adam. “And I like you.” 

Adam turned his head so he was facing the other man. Their faces were closer than he expected. “...like a friend?” 

“...more than that.” His hand moved up, slowly cupping Adam’s cheek. His thumb slowly rubbed over his cheekbone. “Do you like me?” He leaned closer, their breaths mingling. “More than a friend?” 

Adam took a shaky breath. This was it. No matter which way this went, this would change everything. “Yeah.” He whispered. 

“...can I?” 

Adam licked his own lips nervously, “yeah.” 

Shiro tilted his head slightly, pressing their lips together. Pulling back too soon. He leaned back, dropping his hand. “Was that okay?” 

“You better kiss me again Takashi or I will never forgive you.” 

Shiro laughed and leaned forward again. 

-----

This...this got away from me 

But I hope you liked it!! This was so much fun <3

Thank you for reading <33333

[junglemax]

i will add more to this but here’s a part from a jaws au ive decided to make bc the movie rotates in my brain constantly

jack and copeland reunite.

[drabble]

Copeland knocks on the door with his knuckle softly. His stomach twists left and right in anxiety, but peeks his head inside the room anyways.

“I’ll get to you in a minute,” a voice calls from the back.

The room is near empty, and incredibly sterile. Nothing like it is back home. It sure is a fancy institute, Copeland thinks to himself. “Dr. Perry,” Copeland calls, “I hope you’re not holding out on me.”

Finally Jack’s head pops up. “Holy shit,” he says, immediately getting up. His eyes are wider than the moon’s as he speed-walks over.

Copeland’s surprised that Jack’s sporting a beard. Last he saw, Jack was clean shaven, with big, wild hair. His hair is still wild, but he notices it’s tamed down. “Hi,” he says with a smile.

“Oh my god, you’re actually- how’d you find me? Come here.” Jack gives him a hug, squeezing tight.

Copeland chuckles, returning the hug. He holds it for longer than he maybe should, but Jack doesn’t seem to mind and he’s grateful for that. “Just asked for the man who loves sharks. How have you been?”

“Good.” Jack pulls away. His hand lingers on Copeland’s arm. “Pretty uh, buried in my work. How are you?”

Copeland sighs. “I’m alright. Still trying to uh, adjust.” He hasn’t been able to step fully into the water yet. He can go to his waist, but after that- that awful feeling rattles his bones, screams at him to get out of the water.

Jack frowns, but he looks understanding. “Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Um- do you wanna get something to eat, maybe? I’m at a stopping point. And you came all this way to see me, so…” he twists his hands, chewing on his lip slightly.

“I’d love that,” Copeland says with a smile. “You know the area, you pick.”

Jack smiles back. “I won’t let you down, Chief.”

~

They talk about anything and everything. Jack’s studies, the amount of papers he’s written since he came back. The events back in Amity that Copeland keeps the peace at, how more protective measures are being set for the beaches.

They drink. A lot. And lucky for them, Jack’s place is nearby, within walking distance.

Jack giggles as he clings to Copeland’s arm. He’s swaying, and Copeland has to hold on tight to not lose him. “You know, Chief,” Jack hiccups as they enter his place, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

“Oh, really?” Copeland muses. He hasn’t stopped thinking of Jack, either. He hasn’t stopped thinking of a lot of things, but he pushes most of them down. Not the time nor place to throw himself back down the hole.

“Yeah.” Jack walks his fingers up Copeland’s chest. “Tell me- you still think I’m some- some young boy, who doesn’t know what he’s doing?”

Copeland manages to lead them into a bedroom with a chuckle. “Mm- I think you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Jack splits into a grin, giggles, and drags Copeland down for a kiss.

~

The bed is small, but they make due. Copeland sighs, shifting under the covers. “Got any smokes in here?”

“Th’ table,” Jack mutters, face half buried into Copeland’s chest.

Copeland looks at the bedside table and grabs the little box as well as the lighter. He lights himself one and blows out slowly.

“Hey, Adam?” Jack asks softly, tracing circles into Copeland’s side.

“Hm?”

“Do you, uh, still think about…” Jack trails off.

Copeland doesn’t need to ask what he means. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “Yeah.”

“Do you miss him?”

Copeland breathes out smoke. “Yeah.”

“I miss him. A lot.”

“I know.”

Jack sniffles. “Lemme have a drag.”

Copeland doesn’t argue as he hands the cigarette over.

Jack sighs with the drag. “Fuck. These taste like him.”

“You got the same brand he did.”

“I know.”

Copeland sighs and looks at the half-empty box of cigarettes. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Most days,” Jack admits. “But sometimes…sometimes I wake up gasping for air, like I’ve been drowning. That’s usually when I smoke. I just…I like to think he pulls me out of the water. Out of my nightmares when it gets too bad. It sounds silly, but…”

“It’s not that silly,” Copeland assures.

Jack sighs and hands the cigarette back. “Maybe not.” He looks up at him. “When are you leaving?”

“Was gonna leave tomorrow morning,” Copeland admits. “But, I can stay longer. If I need to.”

Jack goes quiet in thinking.

“Do you want me to stay?” Copeland asks instead.

“Yeah,” Jack says softly. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“It’s not,” Copeland promises. “I’ll stay longer, then.”

[blackbat05]

Changed Fortune

Adam Warlock x F!Reader (Modern AU)

Plot: You get your heart broken and find yourself reaching out to your closest friend who takes this opportunity to tell you what was on his mind all this while.

Genre: PG-13

A/N: Cheers to Will’s special appearance on ‘The Bear’ as a chef for giving me ideas! Been obsessed with modern au lately. For @the-slumberparty monthly challenge! (Items: Sun Dress, Festival) Reblogs always appreciated!💜

Again.

Why do you always make the worst choices that involved negatively affecting your emotional well-being?

You had just dumped your boyfriend (or ex-boyfriend) after spotting him with a group of girls decked in high end clothing and a cake full of makeup on their faces pressing against him. He had seen you from afar and you find yourself in the middle of a rainy evening, attempting to get away from him.

Body on autopilot, you racked your brain for places to make your getaway. First, you needed a taxi. Praise the stars for once today as a yellow one rolls up the sidewalk. You don’t even bother hearing the rest of his pleas as you slammed the door, telling the driver to take off immediately.

“Where to Miss?” The driver, an elderly man with wispy white hair stares at you through the rear view sympathetically. You pause, trying to figure out the next step. Raindrops hitting the bonnet of the taxi, it was if everything clicked into place.

“The Warlock please.”

***

“There you go, one fish and chips with extra vinegar and salt.” Adam serves the dish to another regular customer who slaps a twenty on the counter.

“One day, you’re going to have to answer to Elsie why I’m out of the house every Thursday evening, rain or shine.” The man receives his change.

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that Bart. Elsie is a lovely woman but I wouldn’t want to be her enemy. She’s a real firecracker.”

Bart laughs. “That you are right.” He hobbles away, off to find a seat in the crowd. Adam chuckles, cleaning the silverware. A buzz on his thigh alerted Adam of a call. Carefully fishing his phone out with wet hands, he places it on his ear.

“Y/N?”

"Hey." You choked, trying to keep a lid on your emotions. "Sorry, I know you must be busy."

Adam frowns. "It's alright. The crowd's more or less settled in. Are you alright?" Despite talking over the phone, Adam's instincts are as sharp as a razor. Hearing the concern in his voice, you had to take a deep breath to not burst out crying in the taxi. No, you will not cry for a jerk. Instead, you asked. "Do you mind if I come over?"

"Yeah, of course. We got fish and chips today."

"Do you think you could throw in a beer as well?"

***

"That twit. No, what a bloody arsehole." Adam huffs in indignation. "You were too good for him Y/N."

A part of you thought that Adam was merely saying this to cheer you up, but his golden locks that were ruffled by the time you had finished telling him what happened and his blazing eyes that could kill the fish that you were having again told you otherwise.

"I appreciate you getting mad for me Adam, but I've decided that I don't want to think about that slimeball anymore."

Adam pauses whatever diabolical revenge plan he had in his mind and nods. "I'm glad. Which also reminds me of something." He goes behind the counter and extracts two tickets from the cashier much to your curiosity.

"I have two tickets to the world food festival happening at the end of the month." He beams. "I was intending to go with Peter, but he had an emergency back home. I was wondering if you could come with me but now this isn't a question."

Yet again, you were reminded how lucky to have Adam as a friend. He looks at you expectantly and you can't help but to liken him to a golden retriever eagerly waiting for their reward.

"Sure. I would love to."

You laugh as Adam does a little jig and fist pump. "Yes! Meet me here at six on Saturday?"

"You got it."

*** You tugged at the hem of your sundress unconsciously. What if it was too much? Should you go back and change? What would he think?

Before you could even reach the entrance, the door opens, revealing Adam in a brown sweater and jeans that made his golden locks stand out even more. He sees you from afar and for a moment you’re not sure if he’s put on pause.

“Y/N! You look… amazing.” He breaths out as you walked closer. You see his eyes staring at your outfit appreciatively and you feel a flutter in your stomach.

“Thank you. You look great as well.”

Adam grins, causing your stomach to do a few flips. “Shall we then? The festival is just a 10 min walk away.”

Walking along the pier was healing itself. You feel the cool breeze on your face and sighed happily.

“I’m glad that you came along with me.”

“So am I. You’re right, Adam. I needed this.” You tell him sincerely. As the two of you neared the festival, you could see various lights being mixed together from the different booths, providing harmonious chaos. The smell of food wafts through the air, reaching your stomach that had betrayed you by giving a loud growl.

“Oops.”

Adam chuckles, grabbing your hand gently. “Good to see that you’re up for some food.”

Adam sees that you have reverted back to your old self in that moment, eyes almost giving off a maniacal glint.

“Oh, I was born ready. Let’s feast!”

***

This was the best place to let your senses come alive. For you? It was the aromatic smells and tantalizing cuisines that each booth had to offer. While Adam makes mental notes on how he could incorporate various cuisines into his current menu, you were busy chomping away.

“You are impressive, and I mean that with the utmost respect.” Adam laughs as you gobble down an egg waffle from the Hong Kong booth. You shoot him a playful glare that only made him want to tease you more.

“Hey, I have needs.” You crumple the empty paper bag, throwing it into the bin, unaware of the crumbs at the side of your lip.

“You have something on your lips.” Adam points and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You try to follow where he was pointing at but didn’t seem to get the spot.

“Here,” Adam moves closer to you. “Let me.” He reaches for your lip, brushing the crumbs away with his thumb. The contact goes as quickly as it came and you’re left momentarily stunned. Adam doesn’t notice as he walks ahead of you, turning back when he realizes you aren’t following.

“Keep up! We still have more to go.”

You groan internally. You and your tendency to overthink things. Still, you can’t help but to think about Adam and his actions lately.

***

“This Lo Mein is out of this world!” You slurp on another noodle as Adam holds the box on his hand, going in for another taste. “I think you’re going to have to drag me back home later. Actually, you know what? I’m going to get one more box for supper.” You grin, heading back to the booth where the kind elderly woman was pleased to see you.

“Ah! Silly old me. I forgot to give you this!” The woman passes you a fortune cookie. “Something for the road.” She winks, shuffling away to attend to her other customers before you could even ask anything else. Curious, you decide to unwrap the cookie to read the contents inside. Instead of a usual quote, you see familiar handwriting. One that you saw on the written menu at The Warlock.

Y/N, I thought long and hard about writing this. I don’t want to loose our friendship, but I can’t stand to see you being under appreciated by others who don’t see your value and inner beauty. God, my hand’s trembling as I’m writing this but I’ll say it. I love you.

Your thumb lingers over the last three words and the noise from the festival has now been reduced to white noise in your head. All this while, he was right in front of you and you were too dumb not to see it. Cowardly, even.

You suddenly think about Adam’s actions and care towards you - not just when you broke up with that trash, but when you needed someone by your side. How he had closed the shop one time just to make sure you could recover from the nasty flu, brushing off your concerns about the lost business.

“It’s only one day, Y/N. You are more important.”

You clutch the paper in your hand, craning your neck to look for Adam in the crowd. The need to find him surges and you dart in and out of the crowd. You weren’t going to make the same mistake. You were going to give him your answer.

You were to engrossed with finding Adam that you find yourself being elbowed at the sides due to the crowd. Loosing your balance, you shut your eyes, preparing to be squashed by the potential foot traffic when a hand reaches out to grab you and pull you away from the throng of people.

Adam’s steely eyes stares into yours, making sure that you were not hurt. “Guess I should have reconsidered my mode of confession.”

The rumble in his voice steadies you and you immediately hug him tight. This throws him off slightly but he eases into it, bringing his arms around your waist.

“Yes,” you muffled into his chest. “I love you too.” You look up at him with affection. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you. I’m sorry I was so stupid to realize only now.” You’re about to ramble on when he brings your lips to his, giving you the most earth shattering kiss.

How you willed time to stop. He parts, looking down at you. Adam tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything. Your answer was all I needed.”

A slight drizzle starts to spread across the festival and a moment of panic registers on Adam’s face at the sight of you in your dress. Not that you mind.

“Don’t worry, a little rain won’t hurt. In fact, it’s refreshing.” You hold his hand in yours. “You have space back at the restaurant? I think I may be staying for a while.”

Adam breaks into a grin. He locks his fingers with yours, pulling you towards him again.

“For you? You can stay as long as you like.”

[bizaar]

Cruel Summer - Part 6

First - Previous - Next

pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: After breaking up, you and Eddie do your best to soldier on with your lives, but you slowly begin to discover that there is a stronger line of connection keeping you together than just history…

word count: 15k (YIKES)

warnings: swearing, mentions/descriptions of child/spousal abuse, death, funerals, grief, ANGST, panic attacks, fluff, allusions to sex and smuttiness towards the end of the chapter

A.N.: Babysitter!reader part six is here! This one is a MAMMOTH you guys I was gonna cut it down but you all gave me some pretty positive feedback about long chapters so... here you go :) Wayne Munson continues to be the best man in Hawkins, meanwhile, Eddie's father is the literal worst -- Eddie has TRAUMA

I'm gonna be sad about the Munsons for the rest of my life

Hellfire met and played at the Munson trailer for the better part of a month before the drama room finally became available again. Eddie could not have been more relieved if Publisher’s Clearing House had shown up on his doorstep with a million-dollar check. It was only three sessions, considering the club only officially met on Fridays, but each and every one of them had been punctuated by a special kind of weirdness that Eddie could not stomach another second of.

He’s never been so happy to be back on school grounds.

First and foremost, Gareth had been correct. Wayne was very clear that he didn’t want them playing D&D in the trailer anymore, not after a particularly rowdy session had seen Jeff and Adam engaging in a wrestling match that ended with them falling over and absolutely decimating an antique coffee table that had belonged to Eddie’s grandmother.

Eddie damn near pulled his hair out over it, considering it was arguably the nicest piece of furniture they owned and something Wayne had been very careful about preserving, scratches and water rings and all. The moment only got worse from there, as before Eddie could even finish saying “oh shit—you guys, my uncle is gonna kill me!”, there was Wayne, stepping in through the door mere seconds after the table collapsed … well, exploded was probably the better word to describe what had happened to it when Jeff and Adam came crashing down with all their collective weight like they thought they were a pair of pro-wrestlers or something.

Pair of assholes, more like.

It would have been hilarious if it had been any other piece of furniture in any other house, but then that was just Eddie’s luck, wasn’t it? That it would be the single piece of furniture they owned that his uncle was precious about.

Eddie never met her, considering his father was all but disowned by everyone but Wayne by the time he was born, but he knew well enough that his uncle was a mama’s boy through and through, and Grandma Munson was revered in that household, even in death. What few remaining heirlooms of hers there were that hadn’t been pawned or lost to time were tantamount to sacred, so needless to say, Eddie was in deep shit.

Wayne stood surveying the scene as the smoke cleared – dice, pages, and character maquettes scattered to the wind, sweaty teen boys still wrapped in the vice of their wrassling, laying amidst the rubble of Munson family heirlooms – and he miraculously did not kill his nephew. He did, however, breathe out hard through his nose and go right back out to chain smoke and try to calm down.

Wayne didn’t get mad easily, his temper was a slow-burning fuse in contrast to his volatile younger brother’s, but still, it made Eddie panicky. Being in trouble with Wayne was an exercise in “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed,” and arguably worse than any insult or abuse his father could have hurled at him in the same situation. Eddie would have given blood to avoid finding himself in the line of those big, sad eyes as he rushed everyone out and did his best to clean up and piece the table back together. The effort was in vain, there was no saving the table and no amount of apologies could save Eddie from the long tired sigh of disappointment Wayne heaved when he finally came back inside.

Wayne didn’t have many hard rules – respect the space, don’t do anything too stupid while he’s gone, do your damn dishes – but that night he made a new one. No more D&D in the trailer. Eddie promised, though more importantly, they shook on it, which was binding among Munson men. Of course, the nasty little problem there was that Eddie had also sworn to himself that he would never set foot in Benny’s diner ever again, not even if his life depended on it … not even if he thought he was going to find you there.

He honestly didn’t think he could physically make himself go through that door, and he was panicking about it, because how was he supposed to explain that to anyone?

How to explain that even after ten years, the diner was still so stifling with the lingering atmosphere of his mother’s presence that he couldn’t breathe? Too many memories of days after school spent waiting while she moved back and forth behind the counter, hours and hours sitting in the squishy pleather booths doing his homework (when he still did his homework) or perched on his knees on the rickety stools and spinning around and around and around until he couldn’t see straight. Watching the clock and counting the minutes left in her shift, walking home hand in hand, telling her about his day, and enjoying a brief interval of peace before his father got home.

Enough time has passed that those days are fuzzy now, bright little jewels of memory that have turned to sepia-toned shards of glass embedded in his mind. They are still painful enough to keep Eddie away from the diner permanently. How is he supposed to explain that he’s afraid he’ll taint what is left of those memories if he returns as he is now, so far removed from the version of himself that his mother knew? The best version of himself.

He can’t do it. He won’t.

So he swallows his pride and calls Wayne at the plant and begs him – literally begs – to let Hellfire play in the trailer. He doesn’t know precisely what it is that wins his uncle over, maybe he’d blown the whole coffee table thing out of proportion in his mind and Wayne wasn’t actually that upset about it (he was) or maybe it is just because he just thinks Eddie really needs a win after the last few months, with you and what happened that afternoon at Rick’s and not graduating again (he really hopes it isn’t that, despite how stridently true it is) — really what is the harm in letting them play a little D&D? Especially after Eddie’s long, drawn-out spiel about how he swears they will be on their best behavior and they won’t get too rowdy or make a mess and he’ll make sure everyone uses coasters if he wants them to, and Wayne listens to his nephew talk a mile a minute before finally cutting him off mid-stream — because they aren’t the type of people who worry about things like coasters — and he relents.

“Take a breath, Bud, it’s alright. You can bring your friends over.”

And Eddie practically sobs with relief, which is embarrassing, but it had been a very tense few hours fighting off panic attacks and wrestling with the very real thought of canceling Hellfire entirely just to try and avoid ever having to set foot in that diner again.

Somehow he gets the sense that Wayne knows all this because he’s always had that weird sort of omniscience that parents have when it comes to their kids (good parents, at least) even though Wayne is not his dad and Eddie is not his son – Wayne always seems to know exactly what’s wrong with him at any given moment and it would be maddeningly frustrating if Eddie didn’t rely upon it completely.

The Munsons have never been good at talking about their feelings, and Eddie feels so much all the time.

He thanks Wayne profusely and swears he’s going to make it up to him.

“Just don’t let the big guy break any more furniture.” Wayne huffs down the line, wrenching a watery laugh from somewhere deep inside Eddie.

He would have said something smart about how the only thing that’s going to get broken is Jeff’s neck if he doesn’t behave himself, but he’s already too far gone in his memories as he hangs up and switches over to autopilot to go about getting the place ready for guests…

It was late summer, 1977, and Eddie sat on the steps of Wayne’s trailer, back when it was just that, before it was home— sulking because she was leaving him there again.

It wasn’t her fault, and he didn’t blame her, because he knew she didn’t have any other choice.

Still, he did not want her to go.

His father had gotten himself arrested again, for dealing or boosting a car or any number of his other nefarious pastimes, and his mother was preparing to go through the long, arduous process of bailing him out. That meant Eddie would be spending the night on the couch at Uncle Wayne’s, and while those nights were never bad — it was all television and take out and the novelty of being treated like an adult without being scandalized in the process, like when he was nine and his father took him out to a strip club on the interstate (it was the angriest Eddie had ever seen his mother – she’d blown a gasket) – it was always just the circumstances that sent him to Wayne’s that Eddie hated.

His mother sat crouched in front of him on the stairs and pinched and poked and tried to make him smile. She always teased just a bit too much when things were bad, always told him he was too young to be so serious.

He pouted and told her that she ought to just leave his old man there to rot, not for the first time (though unknowingly the last). She’d wrinkled her nose and agreed with him, pulling him forward by his elbows to wrap her arms around him and blow a raspberry into his cheek. He would have told her he was too old to be treated like that, but in spite of himself, he snorted with laughter and let his mother kiss the offended flesh before standing to talk to Wayne.

Eddie felt the brief warmth of humor give way to anxiety tugging at his heart and covered his ears – he didn’t want to hear her say anything too serious. Serious on Eddie’s mother was always too close to sad, and he hated when she was sad (too many mornings sitting and watching her try to mask last night’s bruises with caked on cover-up, biting back tears and doing her best to smile for him.)

Her voice was hushed and thick with emotion as she spoke.

“I’ll be back when I can, but…” he heard her suck in a sharp breath, “I don’t know, Wayne, it just — it took so long the last time –”

Wayne cut her off, patting her on the shoulder and speaking in a soft, reassuring voice.

“I know, Darlin’. You take as long as you need,” and then he made a point to perk up, raise his voice to try and make himself sound chipper, for Eddie’s sake – chipper is an emotion that has never worked on Wayne. “We’re gonna be just fine. It’s gonna be fun. Right, Bud?”

He nudged Eddie gently with the toe of his boot, but the only response he could muster was a dejected sigh, propping his head up with his fists, elbows perched on skinned knees.

He reached down to ruffle his hair and Eddie jerked moodily out of his touch and buried his face in his knees as his mother tut-tutted him.

“Hair’s gettin’ real long…” Wayne mused, sucking his teeth, “Maybe we’ll give you a trim while your mama’s gone,”

The thought of it set Eddie’s heart beating at a pace – his father was always trying to cut his hair, spitting hateful slurs and insults about the “kind of men kept their hair long” – thankfully, his mother spoke up.

“Oh, no, don’t.” She said quickly, reaching down and running her fingers fondly through Eddie's curls, “We like it long, right, Baby?”

He didn’t answer, but he could feel her looking at him, waiting patiently. A sprig of defiance wormed its way up through his midsection, and Eddie decided he would stay quiet for the rest of his life if he had to.

His mother just sighed – she didn’t have time for a tantrum, the one his father was sure to throw was arguably worse than the one Eddie was kicking up. She had to go, so she turned on her heel and started down the gravel drive.

“I’ll be back soon. Love you, Teddy Bear!” She called, waving over her shoulder— her massive collection of keychains jangled loudly as Eddie peeked up from his knees to watch her make her way back to the car.

The Munsons were all packrats in their own way – his mother collected keychains and magnets, Wayne collected novelty mugs and baseball caps, and his father collected felonies and arrests… Eddie supposes now that he collects regrets. He wishes he’d done more to commit her to memory, he wishes he’d done something to make her stay…

“I love you!” She said again, louder, stretching the phrase lyrically and trying to bait him.

He wired his jaw shut – maybe if he didn’t say it back she’d stay until he did. Maybe he’d never say it again and she’d never leave him.

Still, a sudden spike of anxiety flared in his chest as something screamed at him to call out to her, make her turn around and look at him one more time. Just in case.

Just in case what? Just in case you never see her again.

“Don’t let him drive!” Eddie shouted at his mother’s back, pushing up to stand on the steps like if somehow he were a little taller it would help drive the message home.

Don’t go. Don’t go. Please, don’t go.

She stopped as she pulled the driver’s side door open and smiled – a wry, crooked thing that indented her cheeks with dimples.

“I never do.”

She winked, and slipped in behind the wheel and out of his life because no matter what she assured him, she didn’t ultimately have a say in who drove home that night, no matter what his father had taken or how fucked up he was.

He drove. They crashed. She died.

The funeral was open casket, and Eddie refused to move from his seat. He didn’t want to see her, not like that – he wanted her here, smiling and laughing and teasing too much and collecting stupid novelty keychains and breathing, not cold in the fucking coffin his father had put her in.

The son of a bitch had tried to drag him up there to “pay his respects”. He seized him by the scruff and told him not to be a pussy, but his arm was in a sling from the accident and he couldn’t get a good enough grip on Eddie to hold him to the spot when Wayne stepped in and pulled his brother aside for an extremely tense, hushed conversation.

The repast had been at Benny’s because she’d worked there long enough that the staff was like family and their house was too small to host. His father somehow managed to get himself completely blackout drunk, despite the lack of any booze being served, and made a huge scene – like he always did, and Eddie sat there trying to endure the violence of his hatred for the man.

Why couldn’t he have just let her drive? Why did it have to be her? Why hadn’t she been wearing her seatbelt? Why why why…

His grief was too big, he didn’t know what to do with it or where to put it, and it made Eddie so angry. Angrier than he had ever been in his life. It made him brave— or perhaps vitriolic— and when his father shouted and slurred and swatted at him like he always did, Eddie grit his teeth and spat the venom right back.

For all the times he’d sat helpless, for all the times she’d sent him to run and hide, he finally stood up.

He paid for it, of course, with a hard crack to the face that knocked him right back down, and before his brain could stop rattling around his skull enough to catch up to his body, Eddie hit one of the first of many hard limits he would pass with the old man over the next few years.

With a bloodied, broken nose, he bolted from the diner and ran all the way out to the interstate. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he meant to get as far away as humanly possible, from his father, from Hawkins, from his grief and the terrible life he knew he surely faced without his mother to act as a buffer. Even at eleven years old, he knew he didn’t have a chance if he stayed.

This town would kill him if he stayed.

The first and only car to pull up beside him had been a rusty pickup – it was Wayne, because of course it was, and he rolled alongside Eddie in the truck at a glacial pace on the shoulder of the wrong side of the road for the better part of twenty-five minutes as he tried to talk his nephew down.

Eddie continued to walk, wiping blood and tears on the sleeve of his suit jacket and refusing to be coaxed into the cab until he’d learned that the cops had picked his father up and he wouldn’t have to go home that night. When Eddie finally relented and climbed up into the passenger seat, he saw that Wayne’s knuckles were cracked, swollen, and bleeding on the steering wheel.

He didn’t have to ask to know what had happened – he hoped his father hadn’t been too drunk to feel every second of the beating Wayne had given him — Eddie hoped it hurt as bad as it did when Wayne set his broken nose later that night, sitting perched on the edge of the sink, gritting his teeth and biting back tears.

It would be another two and a half years of days like that before the old man would finally go to prison.

With Wayne’s blessing, Hellfire resumed at the Munson trailer, and by 8:30 that Friday in April, everyone was piled into the little living room, huddled around the replacement, decidedly less nice coffee table, and Eddie could finally breathe again.

Except that Jeff was fully committing to the bit of being bizarrely hostile, in his own completely non-threatening way. Eddie thought it was exceedingly strange – and more than a little rude considering he would have been meek as a mouse if he had found himself allowed back into a home where he’d so unceremoniously destroyed a treasured piece of antique furniture, but he couldn’t really kick up the gusto to be angry about it, because Jeff was being hostile no matter where they were.

“Hey, what the fuck is Jeff’s problem?” He’d asked Gareth one day, sitting huddled over his notebook in the back of second-period English Lit while Mrs. Faulkner droned on about some old dead guy.

Proust or some shit.

Gareth had merely shrugged his flannel-clad shoulders in feigned ignorance and done his best to look innocent as the color drained from his face and his eyes went wide. Of course, that reaction suggested he knew exactly what Jeff’s problem was, but the old harpy had screeched a warning at them about cross chatter and threatened detention from the blackboard before Eddie could press him further on it.

The issue with doing everything with the same group of people is that when you have a problem with one of them, you have to see them everywhere you go. Jeff is a member of the Hellfire Club as well as Corroded Coffin, so Eddie has to deal with his snarky, backhanded remarks pretty much wherever he goes.

It is, at best, mildly annoying and at worst, deeply confusing.

Eddie can’t wrap his head around the shift in his attitude, except that once, when you were still very new to each other — the first time he’d ever brought you to hang out with the guys as his officially official girlfriend, in fact — Jeff had pulled him aside at the end of the night and drunkenly warned Eddie that if he ever hurt you, he would kill him.

It had been an intense and slightly off-putting way to end what had been a generally pleasant evening, but Eddie had just chalked that up to Jeff being… well, Jeff. Poor social skills and all too easily impressed by nice girls who showed him even the slightest bit of kindness or attention.

You’d laughed about it on the car ride home, not unkindly, though. You thought his crush on you was sweet, like the crush the kid you babysat had on you. And then you’d sat in the car eating ice cream and discussing life’s most important questions; who would win in a fight – Jeff or Eddie...

Eddie had just been happy to get to share you with his friends and integrate you into the group without it being weird so that he didn’t have to parcel out his time between the band, D&D, and you.

He knows you would have won out over his friends every time, though he’s not sure they could have held it against you.

He used to love how much they loved you until he told everyone about the breakup.

He’d said it was mutual, and maybe he’d let them believe that it had been more your idea than his — he doesn’t know why, maybe he’d thought it would be easier to stomach if he could manage to be pissed at you, but he couldn’t muster it and it didn’t make him feel any better to say it.

Despite everything, Eddie can’t help but shake the feeling that all of his friends have taken your side. Somehow they know he hurt you, and he supposes if Jeff had meant he was going to annoy him to death it’s working marvelously.

And then there’s Dustin.

Dustin Henderson, who spends all his time talking about his babysitter and hangs out with that pretentious douche Steve Harrington when he isn’t following Eddie around like a lovesick puppy.

He can’t deny he has a soft spot for the kid, even if he is annoying as hell, and Eddie does feel bad about biting his head off over the whole situation with the diner. He’d thought it was actually very cool that the kid even tried to find them an alternate place to play, and he’d been sincere in his apology at the campus phone, but he also knows he’d gone a little overboard in the teasing, especially with that bizarre conversation with Dustin’s babysitter that followed.

It hadn’t been Eddie’s fault, not entirely.

He’d already been feeling too manic, his senses dialed up to eleven at the thought of having to go back to Benny’s, but Dustin was also just entirely too easy to tease. He was, perhaps, just a tad too flirtatious with the babysitter on purpose, just to ruffle Dustin’s feathers — Eddie is big enough to admit that that was a fuck up on his part.

The connection over the payphone had not been the greatest, just as much static as voice, and somehow he’d fooled himself into thinking the girl on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like you. So much like you that if he tries very hard, he can convince himself that it had been you on the phone that day. It wasn’t, he knows this, but in his heart of hearts?

The teasing, the cadence of her speech, the specific little phrases she used, her laugh? Christ – the way she’d laughed had been enough to make Eddie weak at the knees because he swears to God, Tiamat, Ozzy Osborne, whoever is out there listening, that it had been you laughing on the other end of that phone call — but then she’d hung up on him, and Eddie knew he’d been deluding himself, projecting you into some random girl he’d probably scandalized.

He imagines some snotty cheerleader on the other line, lying on her bed, twisting her perfectly manicured fingers in the phone cord, popping bubble gum, and kicking her feet —painting the picture of a pretty little fantasy until she realizes who she was talking to, until he tells her his name. Then he pictures her sneering and slamming the phone into the box with a harsh grunt of disgust.

She probably felt like she needed to take a shower after that, to wash the freak off of her.

Eddie still can’t believe how badly he’d let his feelings get hurt over it, all because he’d let himself pretend he was talking to you.

Then there was the way Dustin and Wayne acted towards each during that second Friday playing at the trailer. It was a rare day off, and it had seen his uncle rolling up unexpectedly and coming through the door halfway through their session.

Everyone instantly shut up and mumbled their own overly formal, awkward greetings as Wayne surveyed the group. He greeted the boys he knew, regarded the ones he didn’t with a curt nod as Eddie introduced them – Mike and Lucas, and then he clapped eyes on Dustin, and he got stuck. He stared hard and set his jaw, and Eddie could practically see the gears turning in his uncle’s head as he tried to work something out.

It would have made him nervous if he hadn’t noticed the way Dustin was staring right back at him with the same intensity. Like they recognized each other but they didn’t precisely know where from.

Weird.

And then the moment passed, like fixing a skipping record.

“Y’all been playing long?” Wayne hummed, setting his wallet and keys down on the little dining table shoved against the opposite wall.

His addressing Eddie brought the game to a screeching halt and everyone held their breath and waited to see what he would say.

“Few hours, yeah.” he replied cautiously, “Why?”

There was a tiny nagging voice in the back of his mind that warned him they were about to get kicked out and they would have to finish their session with flashlights in the back of his van, but Wayne just shook his head, like it didn’t matter why he’d asked.

He fished his cigarettes from his pocket and patted himself down in search of his lighter, coming up empty.

“You got a light?”

Eddie tossed him his lighter— he caught it effortlessly.

“Well, don’t stop on my account, gentlemen.” He said, pushing a cigarette up to his lips and going right back outside.

The door clicked shut and a collective sigh passed over the room as everyone turned back to the game board and began chattering amongst themselves.

“You think he’s still pissed about the table?” Adam asked sheepishly.

Jeff and Gareth both began to voice their dissent – no, no way that was so long ago — and Eddie had to grit his teeth to stop himself from saying anything too mean about it because it may have been long ago to them but he still hadn’t heard the end of it.

“Of course, he’s still pissed – you guys, shut up about the table already,” Eddie huffed, flipping through the beat-up Player’s Handbook balanced precariously on his knee.

Of course, that only spurred them on to talk more about it. And when Mike piped up, asking “what table” Gareth was all too happy to launch into the story, much to Eddie’s annoyance as everyone lost interest in the game and began laughing and talking.

He propped his chin up on his hand and heaved a dejected sigh, continuing to flip through the book and waiting for them to be done. He just wanted to play D&D, was that too much to ask?

And then he could feel eyes on him. He glanced up to find Dustin staring at him expectantly from where he sat on the floor like he was waiting for the answer to a question he hadn’t asked yet.

Eddie waited. Dustin waited, and for a long moment, they both just sat, staring, waiting for the other to speak.

“What?” Eddie finally prompted.

Dustin began slowly.

“So…” He said, giving him a quizzical look and shuffling just a little bit closer to where Eddie sat with his knees up in the lazy boy. “How do you know that Wayne guy?”

Eddie wouldn’t say that the question floored him, but he didn’t quite know how to respond. He supposed he could have just answered the question – he’s my uncle – but he was much too caught on the other end of it.

“How do I–? How do you know Wayne, Dustin?” Eddie snapped, well aware that he was biting the kid’s head off over nothing again. “Don’t ask me stupid questions like that.”

He could practically hear you in the back of his mind, reminding him that there were no stupid questions, but Eddie stridently disagreed. That was a very stupid question.

Dustin didn’t have a response. He looked more put out than dejected as he threw up his hands and shook his head, but someone kicked up with a concern about snacks or drinks or something variably more important to a group of teen boys before Eddie could chase the thought any further.

It was another twenty-five minutes of trying to corral the group before they finally resumed their session and when Wayne finally came back in, Eddie spent the rest of the night trying not to get distracted by the way he and Dustin sat glancing at each other as he did his best not to lose his flow.

Wayne didn’t have much to say about it later on.

“Do you and Dustin know each other or something?” Eddie asked after everyone had gone, gathering the last of the books and character sheets, and dice.

Wayne sank heavily into his chair — the lazy boy that had served as a poor substitute for Eddie’s throne — with a sigh and beer. He scratched his stubbly chin and furrowed his brow like he had no idea what his nephew was talking about.

“Who?”

Eddie grit his teeth to keep himself from snapping.

“Dustin— the kid with the hat? Braces?”

“Oh.” Wayne said.

He hummed deep in the hollow of his throat, like he was considering whether or not to tell Eddie something, then he picked up the remote and flicked on the tv.

“Nope.”

That was the end of the conversation, no matter how long Eddie stood there in the living room, waiting for his uncle to elaborate. He didn’t, and Eddie finally had to just turn and stalk back to his room with an agitated sigh.

He can’t help but feel that there is a huge piece of the puzzle missing there, one he isn’t sure has anything to do with all the weirdness that has punctuated his days since school started. He tells himself he doesn’t care, so why does he suddenly feel like there is some kind of big conspiracy between everyone he knows going on behind his back? He racks his brain for what the possible connection could be and comes up empty.

He is so goddamn relieved when they finally get back to playing in the drama room.

+++

The counselor’s office looks the same as it always does, all of Ms. Kim’s pictures, degrees, and personal items are still where they were when Eddie was last here, same time last year.

Christ, has it been a year already?

He knows he’s fidgeting more than usual, bouncing his knee and digging his nails into the arm of the chair as he waits for the guidance counselor to speak.

So far she’s just sitting there, staring at him and it's making him very nervous.

The last time he’d been pulled out of class to see Ms. Kim, she’d told him he wasn’t graduating again… and graduation is only a month away now. He’d be lying if he said his stomach wasn’t in knots.

She is smiling sweetly at him from across her desk, hands clasped neatly in front of her and Eddie is still frantically bouncing his knee.

“How are you doing, Eddie?” She finally asks, tilting her head thoughtfully and leaning forward ever so slightly.

He resists the urge to ask her to just cut to the chase. He would much prefer to rip the band-aid off and get it over with – none of this beating around the bush with mindless pleasantries.

Still, his mother had done her best to raise him right, in spite of it all, and he would be damned if he didn’t at least try to be civil with Ms. Kim. She’s never been anything but kind to him, which is not something he can say about most of his teachers.

“Okay, I guess,” he mumbles.

Her face pinches into a mask of concern.

“I heard you’ve been having a bit of a rough year.”

Eddie clears his throat to cover the bitter snort of laughter that tears itself out of him.

“Yeah well, nothing ever really changes around here, does it?” He says, smirking and shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “Same shit different day – sorry.”

The silence that blooms between them is more than a little bit awkward. He hadn't meant to swear.

Ms. Kim straightens the stack of papers set out on the desk in front of her and Eddie’s gaze flicks down to try and discreetly see what they are – he can only make out his name.

“So, I've got your transcripts here,” She begins, “And I wanted to talk to you about your future at Hawkins High School…”

Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach – he suddenly feels like he’s going to be sick.

“Oh come on, my grades can’t be that bad…” He chuckles. It is a humorless sound.

He is going to be devastated if she tells him he’s not going to graduate again. He doesn’t think he can stand another year of this…

He half expects her to give him a piteous look, scrunch her features and turn her eyebrows up in apology, but instead, they jump up towards her hairline and she shakes her head.

“No, actually, quite the opposite. Your grades are…” she trails off, shrugs, “Well, I’m not going to lie to you, they’re still pretty low, but considering what they were this time last year?” and then her lips quirk up into a big smile, “I think you might be on track to graduate next month.”

Eddie would have been less shocked if she’d pulled a gun on him. He's fully aware of how his mouth has fallen open as he stares at her.

“Shut the fuck up!” He gasps, and then, “Sorry – I’m so sorry – I just… y-you’re serious?”

"I'm serious."

"You're not just bullshitting me, right?" Goddammit, Munson, language, "Ah– sh-shoot – sorry."

Despite his language, Ms. Kim is still smiling and nodding – and Eddie doesn’t think she would lie to him about this. Educational staff wasn’t allowed to pull practical jokes, were they? Prank the guy with the worst grades in school by telling him he was graduating? That would be a major conflict of interest, probably illegal even, which means she’s not kidding, and he’s really – finally – going to graduate if he can keep his shit together.

Holy shit.

“I know it’s a little premature to say, but congratulations.” Ms. Kim says.

Eddie almost doesn’t hear her.

He feels like he’s going to burst, though for the first time in a long time it’s from happiness and not some kind of devastating attempt to hold himself together. Eddie only realizes how broadly he is smiling as his hands come up to clasp either side of his face. Shock is the only word he can think to describe what he feels, elation maybe? Dumbfoundedness?? Mostly, he can’t believe his stupid luck.

No, not luck, hard fucking work is more like, he’s been kicking his own ass all year and it’s finally paying off. He suddenly can’t wait to tell someone, everyone, get up on a table and shout it at the denizens of this wretched place – take a good last look, everybody, Eddie Munson is finally getting out of here.

“That being said–”

God dammit.

“–you’ve got one grade that you need to pull up. Mrs. O’Donnell’s class–”

Eddie's heart sinks a little. He's not sure any one of his teachers hates him more than Mrs. O'Donnell does. She would fail him just to spite him if it didn't mean she would have to endure another year of him in her class.

“– you’re close though, D is a passing grade. I should mention, however, that if you don’t manage it–”

“Oh, Christ – don’t say that!”

Eddie’s not superstitious, but he can’t help but jump forward and wrap his knuckles sharply on her desktop with both hands. It’s made of sheet metal – shit.

Is it bad luck to knock on wood when it’s not made of wood? He doesn’t know.

You would have known because you always had little bits of random information for him like that.

You were a purveyor of secrets and forbidden knowledge – you were Lady Midnight.

God, he wishes he could tell you the news, wrap you up in his arms and spin you around and around until he can't stand up straight.

Ms. Kim carries on about how there’s no shame in getting his GED and how best to stay on track for graduation, but Eddie isn’t listening anymore.

He’s too busy picturing the alternate universe where you still lived in Hawkins. Maybe you had a place together, one of the tiny apartments above or behind or in the basement of one of the buildings on Cherry Street.

He imagines he’d go straight from Ms. Kim’s office to find you at work, wherever that was – maybe you worked at Family Video with that asshole Keith and he’d find you behind the counter, or maybe you had some office job that he’d pick you up from every night at five.

He imagines the way your face would brighten when he told you — Baby, you won’t believe it, I’m finally fucking graduating! — your eyes would go wide and you’d scream and throw your arms around him and jump up and down. Everyone would stare because everyone always stared at the both of you, but you wouldn’t care because Eddie was graduating.

You’d be so excited that he would have to pry you off of him, and then you'd take him by the hand and insist you go out to celebrate immediately.

“Let’s go to Enzo’s and get drunk and eat our weight in breadsticks and lasagna,” You’d say, sidling up and tucking yourself beneath his arm.

And Eddie would scoff because there’s no way either of you could afford Enzo’s, but he would never deny you a good time.

“Sounds great, Sweetheart, we don’t have to pay rent this month,”

Of course, that was never going to happen.

Realistically, he thinks if he had the chance to tell you, your face would scrunch in sadness or maybe even anger, because you’d worked so hard tutoring him last year, all for nothing. All for him to break up with you just because he was jealous that you’d graduated and he didn’t, because you’d promised you weren’t going to leave him behind and he hadn’t believed you.

Maybe this was the start of Eddie finally getting his shit together, but what is the point of moving on if you aren’t going to be there waiting for him?

He’d spent so long imagining the moment when his life would finally jump out of stasis — graduating, moving on, moving out, getting his own place, getting a real job, and maybe – if he was really lucky – even someday getting married. Settling down with someone kind and fun and funny and eventually having a couple of little Munson brats of his own, running around wreaking havoc and living the childhood he always wished he’d been lucky enough to have.

He doesn’t want any of that on his own, he doesn’t want it without you – as cheesy, sappy, rom-com bullshit as that sounds.

He'd spent too long imagining his life with you.

Whatever scenario he drummed up for his future self — whether the band took off and he made it big and became this ridiculously famous rockstar living in a mansion out in LA, or even if he just got a job at a mechanic’s shop somewhere that barely paid him enough to make rent — you were always there with him.

Filthy rich or dirt poor, you were supposed to be hitting those milestones together.

He’s going to graduate next month and you’re not going to be there.

Eddie's heart is hammering against his ribs again, and he flexes his fingers to keep his hands from shaking.

It always hits him in the worst moments...

There is no rhyme or reason to his path after Ms. Kim turns him loose. For lack of anywhere better to go, Eddie heads straight for his locker, because he doesn’t think he can stomach sitting through class — he doesn’t know what he plans to do when he gets there.

Maybe he’ll grab his shit and leave — cutting class is not a good look when you're trying to graduate — maybe he’ll slam his head in the door until the blood stops roaring in his ears or his head falls off or something — can't graduate if you're dead — can't have a panic attack if you're dead either.

He fumbles with the lock until he can get the door open then, for lack of anything better to do, sticks his head inside, hands gripping the metal tightly as he tries to take deep breaths.

It’s nothing compared to a sink full of ice water, and the relative dark is not enough to be calming, but it’s better than nothing.

Calm down calm down calm down calm down calm–

“Are you okay?” he thinks he hears you ask.

Eddie whips back from his locker and cracks the back of his head against the door – ow – and it’s not you standing there, staring at him through your lashes, of course, it’s a cheerleader.

Chrissy Cunningham, he remembers after a moment of static. Red-blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, sweet face, heavy blue eye makeup. She’s wearing jeans and a soft white cardigan and Eddie realizes he didn’t recognize her without the greens and golds of her cheer uniform. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her out of it.

The phrasing makes him feel like he could start blushing.

She’s staring up at Eddie with big, wide eyes, filled with concern, and maybe something halfway to fear. It takes him a moment too long to realize she’s waiting for him to answer the question she’d asked.

“What?” He asks a little too loud, swallowing hard.

Her voice is very quiet when she answers.

“I just … asked if you’re okay…?”

“Oh… Yep— I mean — yeah, no. Yes. I’m fine.” Real smooth, keep talking cool guy, “I was just— I was looking for something.”

He gestures nervously to his locker, glancing at its messy contents before reaching out and snatching the first thing he sees. A broken pencil. Great.

Eddie has never been good at thinking on his feet — there is always as good a chance that he’s going to make a complete fool of himself as he is going to come across as smooth. Even when he’s confident that things will go well, his brain has this nasty little habit of betraying him at the last moment and short-circuiting, as had happened that first moment he’d tried to talk to you in the lunchroom.

He may as well have just stabbed himself with the broken pencil for how thinking about that makes his chest hurt.

Still, he holds the pencil up to Chrissy, like he needs to prove that he’s okay. He’s not.

“Found it.” He says.

She stares at him, wide-eyed and blank for what feels like an excruciatingly long moment, and then she smiles — giggles even, in spite of herself, pursing her lips and casting her gaze downward. It’s a soft, shy thing that carries shades of the way you’d looked at him the first time he’d ever spoken to you. It makes Eddie’s heart thump.

In a moment he remembers himself and slams his locker door shut, putting the pencil behind his ear and crossing his arms over his chest like he suddenly feels the need to protect himself.

Cheerleaders don’t usually talk to him unless it is to say something nasty or to try and buy from him … or that time in his first senior year when the cheer captain cornered him in the bathroom at a party and tried to coerce him into having sex with her out of some kinky, rebellious fantasy she’d wanted to fulfill before she graduated — you’d thankfully come to his rescue before anything could happen.

Girls like Chrissy Cunningham, who wear their innocence like a veil and date sports stars most certainly don’t talk to guys like Eddie.

It makes him nervous.

“Uh … sorry, did you… want? Something?”

Her eyes grow wide, like she’s been accused of something untoward and she looks away again, scratching nervously at her ankle with the toe of her immaculate white sneaker.

“Oh. Yes… actually.” Chrissy says, “Um, s-so… I was told that you— like … I mean if I wanted to get … something? You would have it.”

It takes him a long moment to untangle the sentence, and he’s a little dumbfounded when it finally comes undone. Maybe he was wrong about her because according to his translations, Chrissy wants one of two things from Eddie: sex or drugs.

Somehow he doesn’t think she’s coming on to him so that just leaves option two, which doesn’t leave him any less flummoxed.

“You wanna buy?”

It sounds much more like an accusation than he intended.

Chrissy twists a delicate finger tightly in the hair at the nape of her neck, garroting the tip of her digit and doing her very best not to look directly at Eddie. Her face is ever so slightly flushed pink as she bites at her lower lip and nods.

In spite of the bizarre situation, Eddie does think she is really very pretty, in a way he’d never noticed before.

He swallows and clears his throat to stop his voice from cracking as he continues.

“…What, uh— what were you in the market for… specifically?” He asks.

Chrissy glances at him from the corner of her eye and twists her sleeves down over her hands. She hesitates like she has absolutely no idea how to answer the question. Suddenly, her eyes are bright and shining, like she is ready to cry, and Eddie’s heart is in his throat.

He can’t stand to see people crying – girls, in particular, it makes him feel helpless, too much like watching his mother put makeup on over the bruises on her face. His hands twitch at his sides as the impulse to somehow try and comfort her becomes nearly overwhelming.

“Hey — hey… it’s okay. I’m not gonna bite you.” He says softly, resisting the urge to take a step toward her.

And do what, hug her?

That’s what he would have done with you, pulled you close and held you tight until you’d calmed down. Eddie doesn’t dare cross that line to touch Chrissy, he’s half convinced she might combust into flames if he did, innocent little bird that she is.

Innocent little bird trying to buy drugs.

He hopes she knows he means no harm as suddenly she becomes very interested in her sneakers, tugging at the hem of her big cardigan.

Eddie dips his head to try and meet her gaze, make her look at him – all she’ll do is glance at him, and he smiles at her when she does, in a way he hopes is reassuring. The moment of emotion thankfully passes quickly and Chrissy comes down again – she’s no longer on the verge of tears and Eddie can relax… at least a little bit.

“You good?” He asks.

“Yeah— yes. I’m sorry… I’ve — I’ve never done this before.” She mumbles, chewing the inside of her lip.

“That’s okay…” He assures her, shaking his head, “Everybody starts somewhere… I guess – uh – I guess I should’ve asked what kind of results you’re after?”

She blows out a tense breath and purses her lips like she really has to think about it.

“I don’t know… I—um… I've been having …n-nightmares?” She mumbles, then shudders bodily, like a sudden chill has ripped through her. “Terrible nightmares.”

For half a moment, she gets this scary, far-away look in her eye and it’s enough to stop Eddie from thinking about how her admitting that feels a tad too much like oversharing, considering they don’t know each other…

That’s not true, He tells himself, You do know Chrissy… second grade. Project on manatees – she came over and mom helped us work on it…

And then like being struck over the head, he’s reminded of another seriously unhelpful bit of information for the moment Eddie has found himself in.

She came to Mom’s funeral…

Eddie nods sagely, “You wanna sleep better.” he hums, trying to banish the image of black clothes and sorrowful faces standing around as a coffin is lowered into a grave — a much younger Chrissy stealing a shy glance at him before ducking back to hide behind a pair of legs.

Eddie wonders if she remembers any of that.

Chrissy returns the motion, a sharp jerk of her head in affirmation. It’s reassuring. At least he knows what he can sell her now.

“Okay.” He feels himself smiling without really being aware of how it got there, and he shrugs, “Well, hey, I’ve got the cure—“ Eddie stops short and tries to blink the living room at Rick’s place back on its axis — I’ve got the shit for what ails you — he’s quick to correct himself, shaking his head to try and clear the sudden smokey haze from his mind, “I’ve got something for that,”

Chrissy nods again and then brings up a hand Eddie hadn’t realized she’d had clutched in a fist. Slowly, her fingers unfurl to reveal a crumpled hundred-dollar bill.

“How much will this get me?”

Eddie almost laughs out loud at the sight of it. It’s more than he’s ever even paid to refill his whole stash.

Much more than you’re gonna need, Sweetheart, he wants to say, but he can suddenly taste whiskey on the back of his tongue and his head is buzzing with static.

Eddie rubs his hands down his jeans where his palms have become sweaty, and he tries to pass the nervous motion off like he’s searching his pockets.

“Well, I don’t— I don’t have anything on me right now…?”

“Oh!” Chrissy chirps, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates and freezing a moment as her fingers snap closed on the money again. “Sorry–”

“It’s fine, I’ll just...” Eddie makes a show of jerking his thumb over his shoulder, but Chrissy is shaking her head before he can finish the thought.

“No, no that’s okay—I just thought… nevermind, it doesn’t matter…”

She trails off, color bleeding into her cheeks as the interaction suddenly starts to feel like it’s fizzling out.

Eddie is quick to try and smooth things over because strangely he is suddenly very concerned with what Chrissy thinks about him. He suddenly wants so badly for her to think he is nice.

“No, I mean — like, if you wanna come back around tomorrow?”

An awkward silence blooms between them as she considers the offer.

“Tomorrow?” She echoes, a soft, lilting question that has Eddie smiling at her again.

He notices that her two front teeth are ever so slightly crooked in a way that is painfully endearing. She’s much too sweet for this, he shouldn’t be agreeing to deal to her, but he suddenly feels the closest he has felt to his old self in months, standing there in the empty hallway, talking to Chrissy Cunningham — Eddie before you.

“Yeah.” He says gently, “Yeah—we could meet after school…”

She hesitates, worries her lower lip, and continues to avoid looking at Eddie. It doesn’t feel malicious so much as bashful, like maybe it didn’t matter that it was him she was talking to, like she would have been this shy trying to buy drugs from anyone.

Her brows come together, scrunching down over her big pretty eyes.

“Tomorrow’s the pep rally,” Chrissy says softly, like she’s letting him down.

It hits Eddie like a fist to the gut, and darkness begins creeping in at the edges of his vision. He takes a slow, deep breath in through the nose and blinks rapidly.

“You don’t want to go to the pep rally.” He can suddenly hear you saying, somewhere very far away.

Eddie digs his nails into the palm of his hand until it hurts in an attempt to try and banish you.

“Right.” He says, forcing himself to breathe normally.

Chrissy finds the courage to finally look at him then, if only briefly — her eyebrows are turned up apologetically.

“…And the championship game,” she says.

“You just want to go and antagonize the basketball team…”

“That’s also true.” Eddie hums, nodding.

He’d caught you on your way out of class, throwing his arm around your shoulders and trying to steer you towards the gymnasium before you’d shrugged out of his reach.

No, of course, Eddie didn’t want to go to the pep rally, but an injustice had been delivered upon the Hellfire Club by said Hawkins Tigers, and by code of law, action begets action. He didn’t know what he planned to do – make a scene, probably heckle and taunt the players from the bleachers, be generally disruptive – but you wanted absolutely no part of it.

Your refusal was an idle thing, yet dagger sharp.

Eddie staggered, throwing himself back against a row of lockers and gasping dramatically as he pantomimed being stabbed. You hardly reacted, rolling your eyes and leaving him behind as you made your way further down the hall toward your locker. You were used to his antics by now. He watched you go.

“Me? Antagonize the basketball team?” Eddie called, jogging to catch up, “I would never–”

“No, of course not.” You said, the sarcasm oozing off of you thick enough to leave a gooey trail in your wake. “Because you’re just bursting with school spirit, right? – Go sports!”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, coming to a sliding stop at your side as you found your locker amidst the row.

“Oh, come on, Sweetheart, give me a little credit here. I’m peppy as hell. I’ve got pep in my step,” The statement was punctuated by Eddie jumping up and down beside you.

Again you rolled your eyes, and turned your attention to fidgeting with the sticky padlock clipped to your locker.

“Look, if we go, it’s gonna be weird that we’re even there in the first place and you’re just gonna push it and push it until one of those meatheads decides he’s offended by something and causes a big scene – because that’s what always happens – and it’s just so much easier not to go and avoid all that drama in the first place.”

You were right, because you were always right, but Eddie didn’t have to tell you that.

“How dare you,” He gasped, feigning offense, pressing a scandalized hand to his chest, clutching phantom pearls, “Here I am, bearing my heart and soul, and you won’t even entertain the idea of being seen in public with me. Heartless – that’s what you are.”

Of course, by then you were openly ignoring him and his antics, which absolutely would not do, so Eddie changed tactics. He reached out and pinched the flesh of your cheek between his thumb and forefinger.

“Hey, can you blame a guy for wanting to support the home team?”

You jerked out of his touch and swatted angrily at him.

And then, perfectly on cue, there came the basketball team. The hallway parted like the sea as people made way for Hawkins’s best and brightest (and most popular) flanked by the ever-present cheerleading squad, like a green and gold cloud of preppy little gnats.

Eddie clenched his teeth as he watched the group pass, feeling judgment rolling off of them in tangible waves, like invisible daggers hurled in his direction – worse still in your direction, because they’d offered you a choice and you’d picked him over them.

He just couldn’t help himself.

“Go Tigers!” Eddie shouted, pumping his fist in the air.

The phrase “if looks could kill” passed briefly through his mind as they turned to regard him. He felt a strange mixture of satisfaction and chagrin as they did their very best to kill him dead, satisfaction for how he’d gotten under their skin without doing basically anything, and then chagrin as he saw how their disdain for him extended to you.

That made it less fun – still, he committed to the bit.

“See?” Eddie said, gesturing down the hall towards the group of fading athletes, “Think about how fun it would be to sit through three whole hours of that.”

You watched them go – your old friends – and turned to look at him. Something fluttered across your face, and for half a moment Eddie was afraid he’d gone too far and hurt your feelings somehow. Then you narrowed your eyes.

“I thought Eddie Munson didn’t do school functions?” You teased, though there was real bite behind it.

Eddie cringed bodily – he understood that reference.

In the weeks before he’d mustered the courage to ask you out, you’d asked him if he was going to that night’s Sadie Hawkins dance. Eddie had scoffed and told you “I don’t really do school functions,” like it was some kind of running joke.

The Hellfire guys had laughed, and you’d tried your best to join in, but he’d seen the look of disappointment flash across your eyes and the way your face fell. You’d mumbled a quiet, “oh, okay, nevermind then” before quickly excusing yourself. It only occurred to him that you’d been asking him to the dance several hours later, while he was sitting on his bed working out the chords to a song you’d said you liked.

Eddie was sure his neighbors must have thought he was being murdered with the way he’d screamed when it hit him. He was a fucking idiot, and he knocked over just about every piece of furniture and clutter they owned in his panic to get to the phone and call you. It was too late for the dance, and he barely let you get a word in edgewise as he stumbled over apologies and excuses and promises to make it up to you somehow – he was still making it up to you.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?” He groaned, thumping his head against the locker beside yours.

You gave him a sly, sidelong glance, your lips quirking at the corners and eyes flashing in triumph as you finally managed to jimmy your locker open.

“Never.” You purred.

Flirting with Chrissy seems like a real funny way of trying to make it up to you, but still, Eddie tries to make himself smile in a way he hopes is reassuring. He hopes it looks a lot more convincing than it feels.

“What if we meet up before the game?”He posits, and Chrissy doesn’t seem convinced, so he keeps talking, “D’you know where that old picnic table is? Out in the woods past the field?”

She nods, still tugging at the sleeves of her cardigan.

There is a soft crease of worry between her eyebrows and Eddie feels a strange combination of warmth blooming in his chest and guilt cramping his stomach as he resists the urge to smooth it away.

She really is very pretty...

“Yeah,” she says, slowly with a newfound sense of surety, “…Okay. Before the game.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. A sigh of relief.

“Okay. So… I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Okay.”

"Okay."

She offers him one more shy smile before turning on her heel and scurrying down the hall.

He watches Chrissy go and very quickly feels the afterglow of talking to a pretty girl give over to guilt as something crumples inside of him.

“Come over tonight?” He’d asked, leaning against the locker beside yours.

You’d cast a sidelong glance his way and offered an apologetic smile as you tucked away your textbooks.

“I can’t – I’m babysitting.”

Ah, the old babysitting excuse – Eddie knew it all too well, and it was not enough to deter him.

“That’s okay, I’ll come to you.” He said, eliciting the expected response, your face scrunching up in the way he loves, brows coming together, eyes narrowing.

“No, you won’t.” you’d huffed, like he’d suggested something positively scandalous.

The suggestion of it was there, of course, a perpetually lingering shadow of arousal that lived between any two people in a consenting adult relationship (particularly if they happened to be a couple of horny teenagers) – still, Eddie couldn’t help but feign innocence.

“Why not?”

“Because.” You pressed, stretching the word, “I’m not gonna be one of those cliche babysitters who sneaks her boyfriend over to make out all night. That’s how you get killed in a horror movie.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, hand dropping idly to crook a finger through your belt loop and tug you towards him.

“Oh, come on,” He said, “We’re not gonna make out all night.”

He moved to tuck a wayward lock of hair behind your ear and somehow managed to get lost along the way. Suddenly his hand had come to rest at the curve of your throat, which only went on to suggest a strident contrast to what he’d just said.

No, you weren’t gonna make out all night, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do everything in his power to get you out of your jeans.

“Eddie…” You warned him.

"Ed-die."

You furrowed your brow at his mocking and he just smiled. He knew that tone, it meant “don’t start”, but the way you sighed his name betrayed your steadfastness. It was reminiscent of the way you said it when he had you in a compromising position, with his hands all over you – all whiny and a little desperate, face flushed, lips bitten.

Uh oh, he thought, feeling the stirrings of something in his abdomen that was never so easily banished. Dangerous territory. Proceed with caution.

For the sake of his dignity, and considering you were both still at school, Eddie pivoted – it was a rare act of self-preservation.

“Come on, Babycakes,” he said, sounding perhaps a tad whinier than he’d intended, “I wanna meet the little twerp who’s been trying to steal my girl.”

Your brows came down in stark contrast to the way your face split into a wide grin as your fingers came up to grip the hand that had drifted south to rest over your collarbone.

“Your girl huh?” You purred, tilting your head down to gaze up at him through the thrush of your lashes.

Fuck. He loved it when you looked at him like that, but he knew if he wasn’t careful, he was gonna end up with a raging hard-on – at school, no less – and then what was he gonna do?

Eddie swallowed hard and ran his thumb over the plush spread of your lower lip, despite how it nudged him just a little further down the path of ruin. He had to fight to resist the urge to push the digit past your lips, press down on your tongue.

“Gotta scope out the competition.” He said thickly.

You scoffed then, thankfully cutting the tension with the harsh sound as you jerked your head back, pulling out of his grip.

“He’s not competition, Eds, he’s twelve.”

Eddie shrugged. “Even better, I’ll let the punk know who’s boss.” He could tell you clearly weren’t buying it, so he doubled down, “Hey– hey, I’m great at babysitting — I get those babies flat as a pancake every time.”

Your eyes flashed indignantly and before he could think to move, you jabbed him sharply in the ribs with your knuckle.

“Ah—shit!” he gasped.

“That’s my joke, Munson.”

Eddie hissed a sharp intake of breath and jerked away from the skittering feeling over his ribs as you poked him again and again.

“Baby don’t—ahh!“ He cut himself off with a cry as your hands came down to squeeze at his sides.

The worst thing that had ever happened to him was how you had so unceremoniously discovered just how goddamn ticklish he was, one afternoon when you’d engaged him in a wrestling match. You’d started it, but Eddie had easily flipped you over and pinned you down, holding your hands over your head and ready to torment you until you said “uncle”, but little did he know that you were an incorrigible brat who would not go down without a fight. Not a fair one, at least. Somehow, you’d gotten a hand free and immediately jabbed him in the ribs, pulling an embarrassingly high-pitched yelp from somewhere deep inside of him, startling the both of you. It was all over from there.

Eddie has not known a day of peace since, and today it seemed would be no different.

In some small attempt at self-preservation, he seized you at the wrists and pulled your hands around his back, jerking you forward and forcing you to hug him so that you couldn’t tickle him.

It was not the most ideal solution, considering the growing state of his arousal. You were suddenly pressed flat to him, head forced back so that your chin was resting at the dip of his sternum, gazing up at him with the faintest hint of mischief glinting in your pretty eyes.

If you were a cat, your tail would have been twitching with anticipation.

"Oh good, now that I've got your attention," He started, breathless and a little lightheaded as you tilted your chin down ever so slightly.

And then you sank your teeth into the soft flesh of his chest and Eddie yelped. He bit the sound off with a shout of laughter and pushed away from you.

You chased him, because of course you did, vicious harpy that you were – talons extended and reaching to grab at him again. He easily skirted around you in a wide circle, and suddenly you were both laughing and shouting as Eddie proceeded to run up and down the hall, fleeing the threat of your tickling fingers like he was running for his life.

It was an exercise in stamina, as even though he had longer legs, you were the faster runner, and as such, you were on him at every turn, squeezing and poking and pinching.

You really were in rare form that day. Super bratty. Part of him knew he was gonna have to hold you down and teach you a lesson later if you kept it up. That same part of him really hoped you would keep it up.

Your classmates passed you idly in the hall as you played, staring in varying degrees of discomfort as they made their way to the forgotten pep-rally, admonishing your dopey public displays of shouting, laughing affection with sidelong glances and the singular utterance of “get a room.”

In quite the athletic feat, Eddie finally managed to outmaneuver you enough to grab you from behind, pulling your hands across your chest and pinning them there so that you were stuck in a straight jacket of your own body. Once he was certain you were restrained, he walked you back to your locker, compensating for your presence between his legs by taking large awkward steps.

The action was closer to skipping than walking, and by the time Eddie deposited you back to your locker – the both of you noticeably winded from the game – you were giggling hysterically, spinning in his arms and rocking back against the cold metal door. You made no effort to stop him from caging you in there, hands coming up to rest on either side of your head as you lingered a moment, working to catch your breath.

Your face was flushed the prettiest shade of pink from exertion, eyes bright, chest heaving. Eddie watched your tongue poke out to swipe a thin sheen of moisture over your lips, and he swallowed hard.

He had to force himself to drag his gaze up from your mouth.

“So anyway, about me helping you babysit tonight—"

You heaved an overdramatic groan and rolled your eyes as Eddie rushed to continue before you could cut him off.

“Just hear me out— you said he’s a little nerd, right? That’s perfect. Nerds love me,”

“No, they don’t.”

“They do.” He insisted, beaming, “We can play D&D! Like a mini-campaign. Just the three of us – it will be so fun, I promise.”

The corners of your mouth quirked with humor.

“Can I be the Dungeon Master?” You asked.

You were teasing, but Eddie just dipped his head forward to brush his lips against the highest point of your cheekbone.

“Baby, you can be whatever the hell you want if you just say yes.” He said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You hummed thoughtfully and let your head thump back against the hard metal like you were really considering the suggestion.

Eddie pulled back ever so slightly to watch the gears of your mind turning visibly on your face, though he very quickly became distracted as his eyes dipped to the exposed columns of your throat. He had to work very hard to resist the urge to put his mouth on you and suck a bruise into your flesh.

He wondered what the student body would think about that? The Freaky couple going at it in the hallway while the pep rally went on unnoticed? How’s that for school spirit?

Finally, you shrugged your shoulders.

“…I mean… he would love that, actually.”

“Yes!” Eddie cheered, pumping his fist in victory.

He grabbed you by the wrist and jerked your hand up for a high-five, the force of which rang out with a loud clap, echoing through the now-empty hallway and leaving his palm stinging.

You were giggling again, chewing your lower lip like you meant to contain the sound.

“Really though, he’s gonna love you. You guys like all the same nerdy stuff,” you said, rapping your knuckles against his chest. “You’ll be best friends and then I’ll just be that girl from across the street who used to be cool. Last year’s toys —totally lame.”

Eddie caught your hand and held it there, brushing the pad of his thumb across your knuckles and telling himself he didn’t need to tell you just how cool he thought you were, how much he loved you.

He was too caught in the way his heart was suddenly thumping in his chest over the sentiment.

Nobody ever said “oh you should meet Eddie Munson, you’re gonna love him,” — at least not without a heavy dose of sarcasm.

Nobody loved Eddie. Except for you … and the kid you babysat, apparently.

It made him feel like he could burst.

Eddie wanted to linger in the feeling a little longer, bask in its glow, but because he was who he was, he just couldn’t help himself.

“Of course, he’s gonna love me, I’m awesome.”

You snorted with a burst of undainty laughter.

“And so modest!” You teased, eyes growing soft as you walked your fingers up over his chest. “And smart, and funny, and handsome…”

Eddie felt his stomach do a cartoon flip-flop – he was still learning to take compliments like that, and you’d made it perfectly clear that you wouldn’t stand for his self-deprecating comments, which left him standing hopelessly defenseless in moments like this.

He rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to hide his face in the crook of your neck, if only to hide the warmth he could feel creeping up into his face.

“Aw, babe…” he mumbled, “You’re gonna make me blush.”

Then your hands drifted southward to rest on the buckle of his belt, and Eddie felt something inside of him begin to throb.

He couldn’t tell if it was his heart or his dick.

“Let me come with you.” He suddenly couldn’t stop himself from saying, perhaps a little too earnestly as he did his best to ignore the way your nose wrinkled at the unintended innuendo.

You giggled, and Eddie pushed his lower lip out and pinched his brows in a mock pout.

“No, stop it, I’m trying to be sweet.” He huffed.

You breathed a sigh of soft laughter through your nose and nodded, relenting.

Eddie dropped his chin and nudged your nose with his, glancing up at you through the thrush of his lashes in a gentle mockery of the way you’d looked at him moments before.

“Please?” He pleaded, softly.

At this point, despite how you’d gotten him all worked up, he didn’t even want to have sex with you (that was a bald-faced lie, he would have fully taken you right there against the lockers if this were some kind of cheap porno and if he thought he could get away with it) he just wanted to be near you —always— sit on the couch and watch a movie with you, cuddle you, hold your hand, breathe you in, kiss you, hold you and never let you go.

Truthfully, Eddie just wanted in on the piece of your life that you had yet to share with him, because he was infinitely curious about how you spent your nights entertaining the kid you babysat.

Selfishly, he wanted every part of you to belong solely to him. He was, in fact, more than just a little bit jealous of how much of your time and attention that kid held in his grubby little hands.

It was stupid, he knew that, but you had a knack for making him just a little more stupid than was normal.

You brought your hands up to smooth the wrinkles out of the front of his shirt and drummed your fingers over his heart.

It was a nice prelude to the gentle rejection hanging on your lips.

“Not tonight, Eds.” You mumbled.

Eddie made an unabashedly whiny sound of disappointment in the hollow of his throat and put on a show of pouting as he dropped his head to press his forehead against yours.

“Fine,” He sighed – rather pathetically in the hopes that you would take pity on him enough to reconsider.

You didn’t, but you did surprise him by suddenly fisting your hands in the front of his jacket and tugging him closer, as if that were even possible.

He was fully pressed against you now, pinning you to the lockers, and that little sparkle of mischief was back in your eyes.

“…You should come over after, though.” you breathed against his lips.

Eddie felt heat flaring in his chest, the possibility of “after” dripping down to pool in the pit of his abdomen – he could feel his face splitting in a slow smile as he rocked back on his heels.

“Yeah?”

You nodded slowly, “My parents are in Chicago until next week — and I should be done tonight by eleven-thirty? Then we can hang out, watch a movie, and stuff.”

If he was grinning any wider, his face might have started to peel off, so Eddie bit his lip.

“And stuff, huh?” He echoed, tilting his head in curiosity, “What kinda stuff?”

He knew exactly what kind of stuff you were talking about, he just wanted to hear you say it.

“Oh, I dunno.” You hummed innocently, “Maybe play some games?”

“I like games.” Eddie said, nodding emphatically, “What kind of games do you want to play?”

You blew out a breath and rolled your eyes up like you were thinking, even going so far as to tap your chin with your index finger. You were so goddamn cute, Eddie’s fingers twitched with the urge to squish your face.

“Well, there’s Candyland… Twister… Chutes and Ladders?”

It was a stretch, to be sure, but nobody ever accused him of being mature, and in spite of himself, he snorted with laughter.

Chutes and Ladders… Dumb joke. Really trashy. Barely even an innuendo.

Still, he tried and failed to compose himself.

“Sounds good. What next?” Eddie asked, still chuckling.

Your eyebrows jumped, like you couldn’t believe the audacity of him to even think to ask.

“What, and ruin the surprise?”

The surprise was ruined the minute you put your hands on his belt.

It was sex.

You meant sex, but you were too shy to say it outright.

You were the type of person who wasn’t shy about initiating but did so by rolling up with your hands behind your back, eyebrows jumping as you coquettishly asked if he wanted to “fool around”, and it was so incredibly cheesy Eddie couldn’t help but fall a little more madly in love with you for it.

His heart was so full with the feeling, the declaration of it lived perpetually on the tip of his tongue, but how many times a day could a man feasibly tell the object of his affection he loved her before the words started to lose meaning?

The danger of semantic satiation was ever-present.

“You,” he said, taking your face in his hands and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, again and again, each following word punctuated with another chaste peck, “Are,” Kiss. “An incorrigible,” Kiss. “Tease.” Kiss kiss kiss. “And a mean, mean girl. How am I ever supposed to make it to eleven-thirty?”

You stuck him to the spot with a sly look, quirking your brow and pursing your lips.

“You’ve got hands, don’t you?” You said, deadpan.

The boldness of the statement hit him like a slap to the face, and as if it weren’t enough to say it, you punctuated the statement by bringing your fist up and making a slow jerking motion.

“Oh, my God!” Eddie shouted, hands flying down to grip you by the shoulders as he barked out a burst of sharp, incredulous laughter. “Who are you?”

In the distance, he could hear the marching band beginning to play, signifying the start of the pep rally.

You smiled, looking awfully proud of yourself for being so naughty, and then you were serious again, pouting.

“Well?” You prompted, “Edward. I asked you a question.”

Eddie bristled at the sound of his full name and gave you a hard, disapproving look. You just smiled, a cat in cream – you were really gonna pay for that one tonight, and he had to wonder if you knew that.

His fingers scrabbled up to rest at the junction where your shoulders met your neck – because he couldn’t not touch you – fingers gracing the curve of your throat, and he met your gaze.

“Yes.” He said matter-of-factly, “You’re absolutely right, my darling little weirdo. I’ve got hands.”

And then there was that look again. You were pleased as punch and his head was spinning for it.

He bit his tongue to resist the urge to tell you he loved you again.

Eddie had never been this stupid about someone in his entire life – he’d been with other people, had little crushes here and there, some reciprocated, most not, but he had never been in love before, not like this.

Nobody had ever matched his energy the way you did. He knew he could be too much, but his feelings had always been big and unwieldy. Eddie did nothing in small measures, least of all love, and he didn’t know how to parcel it out in manageable bites. Once he was in, he was all in, and he threw everything he had to offer at the object of his affection. You were the first person who had ever accepted it without hesitation, and perhaps most thrilling of all, you’d given it right back.

He could hardly stand it.

He would have married you tomorrow if you’d have him, but that was a secret, something shiny to take out and admire in private moments. That was just for him.

Eddie pulled you into a tight hug, and pressed yet another kiss to your temple. He hummed contentedly when he felt your arms snake up around his waist under his jacket and the soft rumble of you sighing against him and he loved loved loved — but still, he just couldn’t help himself.

“I’ve also got a blanket in the back of my van.” He said crudely into the line of your hair.

Then it was your turn to shout with laughter, pushing against his chest. Eddie only held you tighter, deciding he could stand to indulge himself, and you could stand to be squeezed a little.

“Come on, Sweetheart.” He said, teasing a little too much as he hugged you and stretched the words in a singsong way, “Let’s go out to the vaaaan.”

“I don’t have time!” You laughed, the strain of trying to break free of him evident in your voice.

Eddie nuzzled his face into the crown of your head and felt the tickling of static kicking up over his nose and cheeks.

“Sure you do.”

You continued to struggle, and Eddie continued to hold on.

“I don’t want to be late.”

“You can be a little late.”

“No—"

“Yes.”

“Eddie.” You whined, that authoritative warning creeping into your tone again.

Christ, he loved it when you got bossy.

Still, Eddie released you, though only to seize you roughly by the jaw and pull you back to him, slanting his mouth against yours in a forceful kiss. He coaxed you to open up for him just a little more with a swipe of his tongue and the little moan you breathed into him as he licked the roof of your mouth shots all the way down to his balls, kind of like a bolt of lightning, kind of like getting kicked there.

It was not entirely unpleasant.

You were more than just a little bit breathless when Eddie finally released you with a wet, vulgar smack, feeling satisfied enough to start purring, like a cat in cream as he licked his lips. He watched you struggle to open your eyes and hummed contentedly at the sight.

He still had a gentle hold on your jaw, and he was not entirely convinced he wasn’t just going to kiss you again and again, holding you to the spot until you were late to babysit, just because you were that sweet, with your pink lips parted ever so slightly and your face flushed bright red.

Instead, he squished your cheeks in his hand and shook your head back and forth, fondly, before finally releasing you.

“Alright, that’s enough out of you.” He said, “Begone Succubus! And tempt me no more.”

“Don’t be mean,” you huffed, taking your bag from Eddie as he offered it to you and shouldering it.

Eddie spun you away, and crooked his fingertips to hold on until distance demanded you part. Off you went, looking back at him with a bashful smile and starting down the hall.

He sighed, and watched you go. Eddie pressed his hand to the left side of his chest where he could feel his heart thumping and felt utterly dopey, drunk on your love and lost in the promise of “after”.

Then, he remembered almost too late that he couldn’t just let you go — he had to get you back for biting him— and because you were a brat and he had absolutely no handle on his impulsivity, Eddie took a big step forward and brought his hand down to clap you on the ass with a loud smack.

You yelped and leaped damn near out of your skin, hands flying down to cover the offended spot and face burning as you turned back to glare at him. You stuck your tongue out at him and he could feel the muscles in his face start to hurt from how widely he was grinning.

“See you tonight!” He called, watching you scurry down the hall, shoulders pulled up to your ears because of course —of course— he still wasn’t done, so he raised his voice and shouted, “—you know— FOR THE SEX!”

“Eddie!” You hissed, “Shut up!”

Eddie watches Chrissy go and breathes out a hard, shaky breath to try and banish the way he’s getting dangerously misty-eyed.

When she’s gone, disappeared around the corner, he sinks to the floor to stop his knees from buckling underneath him, and crouches at the foot of the lockers. He groans and crushes his palms into his eyes until he sees bursts of color.

Eddie misses you more than he’s missed anything in his stupid, pathetic life, and he feels guilty for it because he has no right to miss you after he’d so carelessly thrown you away.

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

He can’t shake the feeling that with the perfectly innocent interaction he’d just had with Chrissy, he’s wronged you somehow, betrayed you — more than he already has — and he has to remind himself that flirting isn’t cheating.

You can’t cheat on someone you aren’t with.

He sniffs pathetically and runs the back of his hand under his nose.

He wishes the ground would open up and swallow him. He wishes he could feel normal again, free from this pervasive guilt, these stupid panic attacks, the crushing vice you still hold on his life after almost a year. He wishes he could be rid of you, and he wishes he would cease to exist for even thinking that.

Nobody’s fault but your own, you fucking loser.

Eddie makes himself think about Chrissy, because that feels easier than missing you. He thinks about her long legs in her short little cheer skirt, the gentle pout of her pink lips, her big wet eyes.

He thinks about how he’s going to see her again tomorrow.

He tells himself he’ll keep on flirting with her if she’s open to it, because she’s nice and she’s pretty and because there’s danger in it.

He knows he’ll definitely end up having sex with her if she comes on to him, because it’s been eight months since he’s felt the gentle press of your body and his hand has been a poor substitute.

Eddie knows Chrissy has a boyfriend, but he doesn’t care, because fuck Jason Carver and the shining white horse he rode in on.

There is a delicious sense of satisfaction in thinking about how goddamn pissed Jason would be to find out Chrissy had been talking to him, let alone soliciting drugs from him.

His perfect little princess.

Eddie thinks he could ruin her and have fun doing it.

No, he wouldn’t. He would do it and feel awful about it afterward because all he seems to manage to do these days is destroy himself a little more.

The thought of using her like that makes him feel sick, but he doesn’t know what to do with all the love you left behind in him. He doesn’t know where to put it. He won’t part with it — it’s all he has left of you — but it’s becoming a weight much too cumbersome to carry.

Eddie tells himself that maybe a rebound is the answer, maybe it’s what he needs to finally start to feel halfway normal again. Maybe it’s time to finally start thinking about moving on… the thought of it breaks his heart all over again.

If he closes his eyes tight enough he can still see you walking down the hall, glancing back at him over your shoulder – sticking your tongue out at him because you think he’s an asshole.

You'd wanted to see him.

He wants to see you so badly it makes his chest hurt… but instead, tomorrow he is going to see Chrissy...

Taglist: @harrys-tittie @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @itsrainingbisexualfrogs @thicksexxualtension @ganseysgff @scoopsr0bin @peanutbutter-y-jams @audhd-dragonaut @clilxlx @alexandriaemily20 @averagestudent03 @but-vanessa @cosmictime45 @timelordfreya @forever-war @munsonzzgf

[originemesis]

@hesaint xxx

Peter huffed and puffed after his futile attempt to push Adam away, the First Man standing as immovable as a mountain. “I really need to start working out more,” he muttered under his breath, feigning an adjustment of his shirt as if it would somehow ease his exhaustion. And his now aching limbs. He shot Adam a pointed look, irritation mingling with amusement that crept into his expression. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You got me again,” he admitted, shaking his head in disbelief. It was hard to be truly mad at Adam when he was the one gullible enough to fall for the same trick repeatedly. “Maybe I’m just too naïve for my own good.” or perhaps he overestimated a certain someone’s maturity. “If you keep this up, you’re going to give me gray feathers,” straightening his posture as he finally tamed his hair back into some semblance of order after Adam’s persistent wing flapping. “Hey, hey, hey - c’mon now - ”

When Adam mentioned the tickets, a sigh escaped Peter’s lips. “Sixty tickets? You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, exasperation dripping from his voice. “How do you find so much to complain about in a single day?” “First of all, the Nickelback situation…” he shuddered dramatically, as if recalling something truly horrific. “If I have to listen to ‘How You Remind Me’ one more time during my morning coffee break, I might just fly up to the nearest cloud and scream. There’s a reason we have a set playlist. Music is supposed to uplift the spirit, not grind it into dust.” Did that sound a bit cunty ? Lord above, maybe Adam was rubbing off on him. Then Adam dropped the bomb about the Biblically Accurate Angel. Peter raised an eyebrow, genuine curiosity piqued. “Wait, hold on—she’s been… spitting?” He paused to contemplate the implication. “Isn’t that a bit… unsanitary?” His innocently dense demeanor revealed a lack of awareness about the true nature of Adam’s comment. “I don’t think anyone should be just spitting on the floor, you know? We have cleaning staff, and I can’t imagine they’d be thrilled about more work.”

Just the mention of working out has his talons scrunching up like the idea was in the same league of unpleasant as nails on a chalkboard- a mashup of Peter's melodic moaning and Nickelback even. Though the thought of an overly buff Saint Peter was also giving him the ick.

"Uhhhh- think you'd have to do more than just more, Pete. Try: a lot more." Oh well, maybe if the other spent more time bicep curling his book, he wouldn't have to check it every time for when the first man wandered back through from exterminations. "But hey~ if you want a spot in Mic-ro-Peen's surprise boot camp," because there was nothing else he could call the lead archangel drop kicking his door in (usually when he's four fudge pops in to glazing over a report) and issuing a military fitness test for all Exorcists- including him, "you can have mine the next time he's roid raging." He's so incredibly generous he's not sure he's not a saint yet. Not that he want to be one of those nerds.

Leaving the gatekeeper fussing over the newly depressed angle of his hair, Adam smugly leans back on the pulpit after perching at its edge again- legs crossed under the billowing bottom of his robes. "Unlikely. But I'll be sure to let Lute know you're interested in hagmaxxing her." Since she and the other gals all sported plumes of pigeon gray feathers.

Leaning back on the palms of his gloves, fanned talons flick up to twirl idly around the space between their banter. "Hey, not all of us sit around surfing surnames all day. Make it sixty-one now that you reminded me your job's cushier than mine." Examining his talon tips, he clicks them together, flexing them just so the light of the gates catches and glints off them. The last preening puddle went well- he'd even gotten a mani out of it. Extra sharp nails to rake across the bars of the gate in a bid to make old Peenor here open then faster most likely.

They end up curled into a fist that he blocks the start of a snort with, temporarily validated. "That's what the fuck I've been saying- well...maybe not the cringe part." Definitely not the cringe part. The only uplifting spirit he concerned himself with was the kind that possessed his dick on the regular. "I'm literally the smash hit debut of humanity here, and they won't let me spruce that shit up? Un-fucking-real."

A smirk slowly widens into a more manic grin before teeth click down, severing the laugh that threatened to clue the saint in to the matter of the ticket before he had a chance to thumb through them.

Not that he can help himself, however-

"Oh yeah, they're definitely not going to like mopping up what she spat out. But that bitch was so dry mouthed, it's going to look like I'm going around blowing random loads. And that's just slander- my loads always have designated destinations~" Well, now Peter knows there's wayward spunk folks could slip in if he doesn't find a wet floor sign fast enough.

[my-names-legion]

It's Adam (FKA Edge) and Jay (AKA Christian) hanging out and having drinks. i use the nickname 'bluejay' for christian

No Ideas how or why this ended up going the way it did, but fics do that to us sometimes. Sorry if I've posted this before, i'm posting it again. No posting it elsewhere please.

Adam was staying at Jay’s and they’d been drinking, something they hadn’t done for a while. They both had a buzz going and were shooting the breeze. They’d talk shop and personal stuff, music, a bit of everything. They did this pretty much every time they got together after not seeing each other for a while.

They would sometimes drink a little when they were out at a bar or at events but typically only drank heavily at home or when they were hanging out together. When they did hang out, it usually ended up with them watching a movie or a show while they sipped their beers or whiskey. Tonight they’d stuck to beer until they were a ways into their movie watching and Jay got them both a glass of whiskey. “Thanks.” Adam said, taking a sip “No problem.” Jay said sitting back down About thirty minutes later there were two empty whiskey glasses on the coffee table. When their beer bottles followed and the credits rolled on the movie they decided to call it a night. Adam was almost asleep when he heard something. He put it aside as Jay rattling around or the house settling until he heard it again. He turned over in bed, planning to ignore it and bury his head in his pillow until he heard breaking glass. He got up and went to see what was going on in case it was someone breaking in or something. He found Jay looking down at a broken glass then he looked up at him, realizing he was there. “Oops.” Jay said with a little laugh “What happened?” “I dropped it.. And it broke.” Jay said “I see that. Why aren’t you in bed?” Adam felt a little funny asking him that, like he was trying to parent a man barely a month younger than him. “Not tired.” Adam might have believed that if Jay didn’t immediately yawn. “Yeah, right. Come on, no more tonight, its bedtime.” He steered his friend to his room and put him in bed after making sure he drank some water. “Adam… What are you doin’?” “Cleaning up your mess and going to bed.” “Oh. Okay.” Jay said, laying down and looking up at Adam “Goodnight.” “Goodnight Bluejay.” Adam smirked and left to clean up the glass. Adam cleaned up the glass and lay down again and was about half asleep when he heard his door open. “C’mon Jason, go back to bed man.” He sat up, seeing his friend standing in the doorway. His hair sticking up all over. “I don’ wanna’.” God he was being childish tonight, and that had very little if anything to do with the alcohol. He climbed back out of bed and led Jay back to his room. “Here, drink some more water. There ya go. Now lay down, yeah I’m right here.” He sat next to him on the bed. “You aren’t in trouble for the glass, it happens. Want me to stay in here tonight?” He asked Jay already seemed relaxed from Adam’s presence and nodded “yeah. Sorry I keep waking you up.” “It’s okay Bluejay. I got you. Let’s go to sleep now.” Adam smirked when he realized he hadn’t needed to say that, that Jay was sound asleep. He let him sleep laying close. It helped Adam finally get to sleep too. Sometimes it was just easier to sleep around each other, he’d put that up to how long they’d been friends and not look much more into it.

[uses-for-fics]

I posted this on ao3 already but heyyyyy why not here?

Ao3 link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/51691363

Divider by @i92-93

𝚂𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚂𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙?

Word count: 1357

It was 2 in the morning when you woke up to your house being shook. The loud bass from the club music was so deep your tired brain swore it was an earthquake. Multicolored lights streamed in through your curtains as more and more drunk people kept partying next door. Of course all this commotion had to be coming from the forsaken house next door. It’s not that the guys that lived there were horrible people. In fact they were quite nice. They had given you rides to work when your car broke down, collected your mail when you went on vacation, and even helped clean your backyard when you first moved in. They were good guys! Their only flaw is they loved pulling schemes and partying. Right now they were blasting ‘Hot in Herre’ by Nelly as loud as they could and allowing drunk people to cause a big ruckus. You tried giving it a chance and going back to sleep.

Repeating in your head, ‘I have work in a few hours, I have work in a few hours’. Another ten minutes passed and you were wide awake in bed, staring at your roof while Pitbull played outside. You rolled out of bed with a huff, putting on some slippers and covering yourself with your blanket. You languidly walked out of your front door to your neighbors front porch. Approaching their home you could already see the tenants of the place partying to their heart's content. The short loud one, Adam, was trying to do a keg stand but failed miserably stating his hands weren’t placed right. The scrawny, curly haired friend, Blake, was hotboxing with a couple random dudes in his friend’s Volvo. Where was the car’s owner? You looked around for Anders, finally finding him lying awkwardly in a bush. Vomiting in a bucket and chugging a beer, one after the other. You noticed the party goers ignored the tall man, continuing their fun as he vomited his guts out. You walked Anders’ way and crouched next to him. “Heyyy Anders, you ok there?” You put your hand on his shoulder getting his attention.

His half lid eyes turned to you and he smiled. “Hey Y/n!” He croaked. “You finally come out to join the party?” You smiled. “No. Not exactly. I was trying to sleep when I heard my oh so favorite neighbors playing club music really really loud.” He laughed. “Awww, are we really your favorite neighbors?” You shook your head.

“Anders. That’s not the point. I need to be up early later today but you guys have been partying loudly for a little longer than usual, I’m really tired.” He frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bug you.”

“It’s ok. I just would really like to go to sleep already.” He smiled and was going to say something but quickly moved his bucket into place, vomiting again. You rubbed his back trying to help in some way. He stopped puking and looked up at you, earning you a weary smile. “Anders I think you should stop drinking already. It’s going to keep upsetting your stomach.” He blew a raspberry. “Come on y/n! Haven’t you heard of a boot and rally!” You reached for his bottle and took it. He was too drunk to even try to stop you. “Aww come onnnn, I just wanted to have a bit more fun.” He whined. “No Anders. I’m sorry but I have to cut you off, you’re just going to keep vomiting and drinking until you pass out. I’m just trying to help.” He huffed and lied back into the bush he was in. “Fine. Im just going to lie here for a second.” You rolled your eyes and sat down next to him. “Ok Anders.” You sat there thinking. You couldn’t just leave him lying in the bush. His friends were way too drunk and high to take care of him. Especially with all these random people all around, you didn’t trust they would help him either. You huffed and stood up. “I guess I’ll just have to miss work later.” Anders turned to you. You stretched your hand out to him. “Let’s go.”

“Huh?” He squinted. “I’m not just going to let you stay here and ruin these plants with your vomit so let’s go.” He grabbed your hand and stood up. He wobbled a bit trying to balance himself. You grabbed a hold of his chest making sure he didn’t fall forward. He smirked. “If you wanted to cop a feel, you could’ve just asked.” You laughed. “Ok Anders, let’s just get you sober.” You took off you blanket and wrapped him with it. You took a hold of his arm and slowly started walking him over to your house, making sure he didn’t trip on the blanket. You successfully made it inside without any hiccups and sat him down on your couch. “You stay here. I’m going to get you some water and Tylenol ok?” He closed his eyes and nodded. “Anything you say princess.” You smiled and walked towards your kitchen.

Anders had never really been so,,,,flirtatious. Yes he did speak to you the most out of the other two. You guys had even gone out a few times too, not on dates but you did enjoy the time together. You could feel your stomach fluttery and your face heat up thinking about the man in the other room. You quickly grabbed the Tylenol from the cupboard and a water bottle from the fridge making your way back to the living room. You noticed Anders had already made himself comfortable. Lying on the couch with the blanket haphazardly slung over him. You placed the water and pill bottle on the coffee table near him. You proceeded to remove his shoes and fix him as best as you could on the couch. You left him for a second to get a trash can in case he decided to hurl again. You grabbed yourself a blanket while you were up and sat at one end of the couch near Anders legs. You had already brought the drunk guy over after being woken up, the last thing you wanted right now was to have to clean up vomit in the morning. You closed your eyes hoping work could forgive you for missing a shift.

Bonus-

Anders stirred awake, blinking and soaking in his surroundings. He looked around and noticed it looked off. He sat up slowly feeling a pang in his head. He presses his hand to his temple, trying to remember what happen. He notice he was on a couch but where. He looked at the blanket on him, he’s seen it before. He heard a soft snore and looked at the other side of the couch. His heart fluttered. Y/n sat there sleeping. She looked so peaceful. Anders held his breath not knowing what to do. He had no idea how he managed to get into his beautiful neighbor’s house but he wasn’t complaining. He moved his legs over to give the girl some. Her eyes started to open after she felt the warmth move. “Hey Anders, how ya feeling?” He smiled. “Better now that you’re here.” Of course that was the cheesiest thing his brain could say right now. She chuckled, god was she going to make him explode. “Well I’m glad you’re feeling better. You were in a bush when I found you.” “Sorry about that.” He looked sheepishly away. “It’s ok, I don’t mind. I’m really just glad you’re ok.” He decided to reach for her. He grabbed her and laid her on top of him. “What are you doing?” She looked up at him. “Well, the least I can do after you went out of your way to help me, is let you sleep in. Don’t worry if you get a call from work, I’ll deal with it.” She laughed. “How chivalrous of you. Thank you my good sir.” He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes. “Anything for you….Princess.” They both got comfortable and went back to sleep.

[wildwolfxstrangledwolf]

This didn't end up following the prompt that inspired it exactly, sort of ended up cutesy, just where it ended up somehow. idk. maybe i'll write more later of them ending up in a fight and having to make up.

This fic is untitled at the moment, but that doesn't mean anyone has permission to take it, title it and post it anywhere as theirs.

Characters: Adam Copeland (fka Edge) and Jason 'Jay' Reso (aka Christian Cage)

Adam was staying at Jay’s and they’d been drinking, something they hadn’t done for a while. They both had a buzz going and were shooting the breeze. They’d talk shop and personal stuff, music, a bit of everything. They did this pretty much every time they got together after not seeing each other for a while.

They would sometimes drink a little when they were out at a bar or at events but typically only drank heavily at home or when they were hanging out together. When they did hang out, it usually ended up with them watching a movie or a show while they sipped their beers or whiskey.

Tonight they’d stuck to beer until they were a ways into their movie watching and Jay got them both a glass of whiskey. “Thanks.” Adam said, taking a sip “No problem.” Jay said sitting back down

About thirty minutes later there were two empty whiskey glasses on the coffee table.

When their beer bottles followed and the credits rolled on the movie they decided to call it a night.

Adam was almost asleep when he heard something. He put it aside as Jay rattling around or the house settling until he heard it again. He turned over in bed, planning to ignore it and bury his head in his pillow until he heard breaking glass. He got up and went to see what was going on in case it was someone breaking in or something. He found Jay looking down at a broken glass then he looked up at him, realizing he was there.

“Oops.” Jay said with a little laugh “What happened?” “I dropped it.. And it broke.” Jay said

“I see that. Why aren’t you in bed?” Adam felt a little funny asking him that, like he was trying to parent a man barely a month younger than him. “Not tired.”

Adam might have believed that if Jay didn’t immediately yawn. “Yeah, right. Come on, no more tonight, its bedtime.” He steered his friend to his room and put him in bed after making sure he drank some water.

“Adam… What are you doin’?” “Cleaning up your mess and going to bed.” “Oh. Okay.” Jay said, laying down and looking up at Adam “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight bluejay.” Adam smirked and left to clean up the glass. Adam cleaned up the glass and lay down again and was about half asleep when he heard his door open. “C’mon Jason, go back to bed man.” He sat up, seeing his friend standing in the doorway. His hair sticking up all over.

“I don’ wanna’.”

God, Jay was being childish tonight, and Adam was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the alcohol. He climbed back out of bed and led Jay back to his room “Here, drink some more water. There ya go. Now lay down, yeah I’m right here.” He sat next to him on the bed. “You aren’t in trouble for the glass, it happens. Want me to stay in here tonight?” He asked.

Jay already seemed relaxed from Adam’s presence and nodded “yeah. Sorry I keep waking you up.”

“It’s okay bluejay. I got you. Let’s go to sleep now.” Adam smirked when he realized he hadn’t needed to say that, that Jay was sound asleep. He let him sleep laying close. It helped Adam finally get to sleep too. Sometimes it was just easier to sleep next to someone, and what was a best friend for if not to be that someone sometimes.

[fischltao]

╔══════════════╗

AOT SQUIRTING HEADCANONS

╚══════════════╝

request by: @multi-fandoms-stuff

"can I pretty request an imagine for aot eren, erwin, levi, connie, armin, jean, reiner, bertolt, ymir, and mikasa about them making there s/o squirt for the first time and there reaction, have the reader get all shy and trys to hide her face??"

notes: ahhh thank you so much for requesting, again im very sorry for the delay and late update, im back on writing now!

warnings: smut, squirting, overstimulation, bodily fluids

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Eren Jeager:

You and Eren have got it going on for a few hours with him and his titan stamina plunging into you without letting you rest for a minute. You haven't even kept track of how long it's been or how many times he's made you cum that night, only focusing on his cock stretching you open and the way he is holding your throat. It's not long until your next orgasm arrives but oh, this time it feels different and suddenly you're squirting all over him and his cock as he keeps fucking you deeper and harder.

"Eren, I need to clean up, Im so sorry I didn't know this would happen, oh my-" You wail while pushing your hands over your face but instead of him stopping he just snaps his hips against yours harder and says:

"No. You're doing it again" Needless to say, you do, indeed.

Erwin Smith:

On your break you had snuck inside Erwin's office to steal a couple of kisses which soon ended up with you laying on the table all over his paperwork and him taking out his emotions on your poor pussy, to the point where you swear someone's going to walk in with a noise complain- not just due to your loud moans- but also due to the fact that his unsteady table is repeatedly creaking on the wooden floor.

"Erwin, I'm so close, Erwin I-ERWIN" You scream as you realize what is actually happening and not being able to hold it in. Both of you are freaking the fuck out. On any other situation he would find this really hot and treat you so good for squirting on him but you just came all over important papers which needed to be delivered awfully soon and neither has zero idea of what the hell you're supposed to do now. You freaking out must have been even louder than your sex noises and now you're adamant that everyone heard.

This was a different walk of shame

Levi Ackerman:

He had just changed the sheets to your shared bedroom when you walked in half naked after your shower, instantly igniting something inside him. The past few weeks had been really tiring for both and the only way to take your exhaustion away was having you bounce on his cock until you were in tears and shaking.

"You're gonna cum baby? I'm so fucking close too" He whispered in your ear like a lullaby in-between heavy breaths as he moved your hair out of your face and locked his eyes with yours. His movements were so gentle and passionate until you both grew desperate for your release and soon he was guiding your hips faster and sloppier while smacking your ass. It wasn't long until you started shaking while he filled you up. After you both came down from your highs you gained awareness of your surroundings and immediately shrunk to yourself.

"What are you hiding away for?"

"You just changed the sheets"

"I can always put another ones" He said awkwardly as you tried to shift away from his lap, when he pulled you right back in "It would be a shame if i changed them while they're only this wet. We might as well just ruin them completely"

Connie Springer:

Sasha and Jean were sleeping on the couch next to you after a nice dinner and Connie was feeling really turned on, right from the start of the night when you felt his fingers creeping up inside your panties and circling over your clit before teasing their way inside.

"Can we at least go somewhere isolated? I feel bad for-" You choked trying not to make a sound as his finger where now dipping in and out of your cunt in a desperate need of feeling your walls clench around them "Connie-"

"It's too comfy here, try to be more quiet baby" He whispered back as he lifted your skirt and pushed his tip inside not letting it all in but rather slipping it in and then pulling out and rubbing on your clit until you felt yourself cumming. Hard.

You were trying so hard to not make a noise until you realized what actually happened and turned around to look at your boyfriend in shock with heat rising up your cheeks. This cheeky motherfucker was looking back at you with the biggest smirk before plunging his entire length inside. Definitely proud of himself... And you definetely have to clean up before a) Jean and/or Sasha wake up b) Captain Levi haunts your dreams.

Jean Kirschstein:

Jean and you had been sent on different expenditions for the week so it was safe to say that you really missed spending time with each other. And him inside you.

Once he closes his room's door he already has you pushed against the wall and taking you right there while standing up. Jean is the romantic type but missing you made him desperate for your touch. You were sure you were seeing stars at one point, the way he pressed against you was magnificent and it just kept getting better and better until you felt the bubble inside you burst and soon your juices were everywhere on the floor. Everywhere.

You instantly felt like hiding away and audibly apologized while he still fucked the shit out of you. Confused he started slowing down and voiced his concern over your sudden apology until he realized what went down and blushed. 'Thats it, its over' you thought. Suddenly the most unexpected thing happened. A huge smile crept on his face "I made you squirt! Oh my god you look so hot, I bet Eren would never be able to make a girl sq-" He exclaimed before you kicked his leg.

Armin Arlet:

Armin is such a sweet young man. He had you laid on the bed for him as he slowly fucked into you, gasping in between kisses and telling you just how much he loves you. Gaining more confidence in yourself your moans became louder and louder and soon his pace changed into sharp and quick thrusts.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train and cherished the way he was the one to make you scream and breathe like that. He felt so blessed that you chose him as the man to have inside your velvet walls and-

Why is the bed wet? Did the rain get through the wooden roof? Why are you trying to hide away? Armin genuinely had no clue.

"Is everything okay baby? Do you feel uncomfortable with the waters?" He asked as more color rose up to your cheeks, refusing to look in his eyes as you awkwardly tried to explain what had happened was not a leak in the roof "What did you say?"

"I squirted"

"Oh"

"Yes"

"This is way more exciting than a leaking roof...Way more"

Reiner Braun:

Reiner is an emotional man and it shows when you get intimate with each other. One time he has you on all fours, with a finger deep in your asshole as he rails your guts.

"Noone else can fuck you like that fuck- what is it baby, is there anyone else that will fuck you this good? Have you crying from their cock? Use your words princess come on" He gasped as his own tears were threatening to fall, seeking emotional validation as well as pleasure as you tried to form a coherent sentence while sobbing "Didn't think so darling, you're such a whore for me"

And in the heat of the moment the offspring of his actions and words erupted from your throat as a loud scream and your juices squirted all over his lap for the first time. The sighting made Reiner cum in an instant and neither had the energy to talk about it, until he embraced you tightly from behind and thanked you for allowing him to be with you and sharing your most vulnerable moment with him.

Berthold Hoover:

His cock felt so good as you bounced on it . In a way it was therapeutic and for the past 7 minutes you've been in this position you've felt constantly on the edge and your thighs burned until sweet release washed you over and soon you were clasping poor Bert's shoulders as you screamed and squirted all over him while he pulled his dick out of your spent pussy and slapped its head on your clit as he watched more liquid come out.

After your orgasm died down a little, instant shame washed over you and you tried hopping away before he hugged you tightly and swayed you without realizing that hes accidentally rubbing you on his cock again and that you are about to pass out....

Ymir:

Ymir is a big tease. A really big one. Proof being her refusing to finally push her fingers inside your soaked slit, instead choosing to just rub up and down while slipping half an inch inside before you grew desperate and moved your own fingers to your clit and rubbing vigorously.

"Fuck" You heard her exclaim before plunging two of her fingers inside "Don't stop touching yourself baby, wanna make you cum like that" She commanded as her fingers dove in and out as fast as she could while you screamed under her touch. Your orgasm came fast and before you knew it, Ymir was soaking wet with your juices . "Never knew my girl could squirt, makes me wish I ate you out instead" She says before diving in.

Mikasa Ackerman:

It was a quiet night with Mika as you laid on your bed next to each other. Your conversation ended with your fingers in her pussy and hers in yours. Both struggled with the pace as you chased your release and her moans in your ear caused you to lose control and instantly let go and clench around her fingers as clear liquid soaked the sheets right beneath you and she turned her head to look at you in awe.

"I'm so sorry Mikasa I didn't know this would-"

"Do you think I can do this too?" She asked with flushed cheeks and an innocent look on her face.

"Eh? Squirt?" You asked and before she had the chance to nod you took out the dildo from your drawer and plunged it deep into her dripping pussy.

[katsuhera]

LET ME MAKE IT UP TO YOU | levi ackerman, aot ˗ˏˋ levi ackerman x f!reader ˗ˏˋ wc: 2301 ˗ˏˋ nsfw (18+), praise<3, reader is dom for like 0.8 seconds but levi quickly changes that, kind of public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (m!receiving), levi finishes in reader's mouth

hera's kinktober: day 6 of 16. taglist form here.

“oh, shit—are you okay?”

you stood still in shock, letting the cold liquid soak through your shirt as you stared back at the dark-haired man in front of you.

“y-yes, i’m fine,” you responded, looking down at your shirt. the coffee stained the fabric easily, sticking to your breasts uncomfortably.

“i’m so sorry, once again,” he said, concerned. “hey—i own a dry cleaning place nearby, can i take care of your dry cleaning? for free, of course.”

“ah… sure,” you replied, warily. “i have to get to work soon, though. can it be done before then?”

“i’ll do my best,” he said, slightly awkwardly—and you realized that this entire time, he’d been trying to avert his gaze from your chest and the bra that was slowly becoming more and more visible.

cute, you thought, slightly amused.

“i’m counting on you, then…?” you said, cocking a brow.

“levi,” he muttered. “and here.” he took off his suit jacket and placed it over your shoulders so that the coffee stains weren’t so apparent. you thanked him, and followed his lead outside of the coffee shop.

you hopped onto the counter as he busied himself in the working area, moving clothes and materials out of the way. you observed him closely, watching the way the muscles in his arm rippled clearly even through the fabric of his clean, white dress shirt. fringes of his black hair cast shadows over his angular face, dark brows framing his clear eyes. maybe he was simply being respectful by keeping his eyes on everything but you, but another part of you felt as though you made him nervous. and in that case...

“you can wear this in the meantime,” he said, offering you another shirt and a towel. “ah—and the restroom is around the corner if you’d like to… clean yourself up.”

“thank you, levi,” you replied, thinking that you might tease him a bit. “i’ll be fine though.”

and before he could ask you what you meant by that, you set the clean shirt and towel down on the counter next to you, unbuttoning your blouse. even he couldn’t look away, captivated by the way the thin, now transparent fabric peeled off your skin.

levi choked out a cough, looking down quickly.

“what, you’ve never seen a woman’s body before?” you teased, taking the towel and wiping your chest clean. “ah—my bra’s all stained, too.”

it took all of levi’s willpower to keep his eyes on the floor, trying his absolute best to ignore the discomfort of his stiffening cock straining against his pants.

“can you—?” you asked, motioning to your bra clip on your back.

“... are you serious?” he asked, looking at you with a bit of incredulity.

“my hands are full,” you pouted, fighting back the urge to giggle at the now obvious blush creeping up his cheeks. “please?”

he merely cleared his throat, moving behind you to unclasp your bra.

“good thing your windows aren’t see-through,” you commented matter-of-factly, tipping your head back to look at him. “that’d be bad.”

levi didn’t answer—he merely let his fingers linger for just a second too long on your back before turning away, heading to pick up your stained shirt.

“wait, can you take care of this too?” you said, extending your arm and dangling your bra off your fingers.

“wh—” he turned around, face flushing a bright red as he took in the sight of you, leaning back onto one hand, breasts on full display. “what are you doing!?” he hissed.

“what do you mean?” you smiled, lightly flinging the garment around your fingers. “oh please, do you really think i haven’t noticed the way you’ve been looking at me?”

you watched his adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed hard, at a loss for a response.

from your spot on the counter, you could see everything from the top of his head to his now fully hardened cock that was practically begging to be let free from its constraints.

you leaned forward a bit, dropping your bra in favor of his shirt collar, gently fingering the top couple of buttons.

“like i said, levi, good thing the windows aren’t see-through, right?”

he let you play with his buttons for a couple moments longer before giving in and raising his hand to your waist, squeezing the soft, supple flesh, letting his fingers trail up to your tits, allowing himself to cup just one, and then the other.

“don’t blame me if you’re late to your meeting,” he said simply, looking up at you with an entirely changed gaze, his dark eyes now fully blown out with lust. “got it?”

you smiled.

“wouldn’t dream of—oh!” you gasped as he suddenly leaned in, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking roughly, his hands sneaking up your legs over your skirt, harshly squeezing at the flesh on your hips.

he positioned his body in between your legs, using his strength to lift you off the counter just slightly so that he could lift your skirt over your ass and pull your panties down, letting them drop to your ankles.

“what was that?” he said, speaking into your chest. his hands traveled down your waist to squeeze briefly at your inner thighs, his fingers teasing your soaked entrance. “you were saying something.”

“i—” you squeaked, words lost forever as you moaned, dropping your face into the crook of his neck as he buried his fingers deep inside your cunt.

“mm, that’s what i thought,” he said, moving his fingers in a beckoning motion. “shit—you’re so fucking tight.”

instinctively, you lifted your legs, wrapping them around his torso, holding him tight against your body.

“this what you wanted?” he continued, scissoring his fingers inside you, internally in awe at how wet you were. “little slut, if you’re gonna act like a slut then i’ll treat you like one.”

“mmnh—!” you gasped as he found that perfect spot inside you, his ministrations making your head cloudy and hazy. “so good—!”

your voice broke as you came, your orgasm rolling through your body in hot waves. he held you still and firm, even despite your thrashing—he held you tight until your body went limp, numb and tired from the best orgasm you’d had in a while.

you could barely even register the hand he placed on your shoulder to push you off his chest, only realizing it when he’d stuffed his fingers down your throat.

“suck,” he ordered.

and you obeyed him, rolling your tongue around his digits while looking at him through half-lidded eyes, mascara darkening the tops of your cheeks.

the room was quiet save for the lewd sounds of your messy mouth sucking his fingers clean. he watched as your cheeks hollowed out around them, long after every last drop of your juice had been cleaned off his fingers, but he let you continue because you just looked so fucking hot, so fucking hot that he thought if you kept at it for a little while longer, he might just cum in his pants.

out of need, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, his throat constricting slightly at how forlorn you looked with your mouth so suddenly empty.

instinctively, you reached for his cock, stroking it lightly through the thin fabric of his pants, and he shuddered at your touch.

“want it,” you found yourself muttering, captivated by how big he seemed, even through the clothing.

“yeah? i’ll give it to you.”

swiftly, he unzipped his pants, stepping out of them and his boxers, kicking them to the side as he scooped you off the counter, catching you against his chest as you stumbled forward from the landing.

he spun you around by your shoulder so that you caught yourself on the counter, your hips jutting out backwards—just what levi wanted. he pulled your hips backwards a bit more so that you were further bent over, taking a second to watch the ripple of your ass cheek as he slapped it before lining himself up with your cunt.

even just his tip began to stretch you out, the knot in your stomach tightening as you prepared yourself to take his full length. you saw it briefly earlier—the entire, pretty length of it; he was longer rather than wide, his cock a pretty flushed pink, redder and swollen at the tip. it was just so pretty that you actually wanted to have it in your mouth, feel it push past your tongue and bruise your throat, but he’d turned you around too quickly for that. next time, you supposed.

“gonna be a good girl, right?” his voice broke you out of your reverie, pulling you back down to earth.

“y-yes,” you whimpered, biting your lip at the burn you felt from his cock stretching you out.

“a good girl would take everything i’m giving her,” he said simply, watching his length slowly disappear into you. “so do that for me, won’t you? shut up and take it.”

without another word, he thrusted forward, pushing the rest of his size into you quickly, stuffing you full in just a second.

your grip on the counter grew tighter as you fought to exhale, inadvertently arching your back deeper so that you pushed your ass out into him, wanting—needing to feel him even deeper inside you.

“fuck—tight,” he groaned, finally bottoming out inside you. “so fucking tight.”

“‘s’all for you,” you breathed, letting one hand go to give your clit some attention.

your movements didn’t go by unnoticed, and he caught your wrist, pinning it to your back.

“what happened to being a good girl?” he said, pulling your arm up higher against your back until you yelped in discomfort. “i don’t remember saying that you could touch yourself.”

and before you could respond, he pulled out and pushed back inside quickly, each deep thrust sending your head spinning and thoughts flying.

your pathetic little whimpers go straight to his dick, and spur him on to torture you even more, slowing his pace at the exact moment you seem to be getting too close to your next orgasm. you could lie all you wanted with your little moans and breaths, but your pussy betrayed you, squeezing him without fail each time you got close.

there isn’t even a moment left for you to stop and think—too much is the sensation of being so utterly filled up, in a place as mundane as this and with an utter stranger at that. the novelty, the adrenaline of it all rushed through you and you merely threw your head back in pleasure, letting it bob and sway in tune with his thrusts.

you looked back at him, your gummy walls clenching at what you saw—his sharp face creased in concentration, his obsidian hair framing his features so perfectly that for half a second, you mistook him for some kind of god.

his collarbones shone through the gap in his unbuttoned shirt, muscles in his chest rippling reflexively as he used his strength to further pin your arms back and hold you still.

meeting your eyes, he smiled wryly before leaning over, his torso just millimeters from your own.

“feel good, slut? this is what you wanted, right?”

you nodded desperately, feeling yourself teeter along the edge of another impending orgasm.

“go ahead, cum then. wanna feel you c—”

you didn’t even let him finish his sentence with the way you snapped so immediately at his words, your mind melting into mush as you clamped down on him, pussy milking him for all he was worth as your orgasm rocked through your body.

you were entirely lost, floating above somewhere in a space in which time could not affect you, a blissfully lewd look painting your fucked out face—almost like a painting, levi thought fleetingly.

it feels like hours have passed in this blissful state of yours, and you barely even realize that you were still standing, legs spread, body bent over for a stranger you just met until your pussy was suddenly fluttering around nothing and said stranger flipped you back around, his hand on your shoulder forcing you to sink down to your knees.

“open,” he said in a strained tone, tapping his cock against the corner of your mouth. you opened obediently, sticking your tongue out and laying it flat.

instinctively, you cupped his balls, fluttering your eyes shut as you bobbed your head on his length, using your tongue to lick fat stripes along the underside of his heavy cock.

his forehead wrinkled as he fought back against his orgasm, growing increasingly difficult to hold back with every passing second.

you licked him clean of your essence, savoring every last drop, bracing yourself with your free hand against his muscled thighs.

your throat constricted in surprise as you felt a palm cup the back of your head, and that was the tipping point for levi—he came with a grunt, spilling his hot, sticky seed down your throat, holding your head still until his balls were drained completely.

hot tears pricked at your eyes but you held them back, forcing yourself to swallow and control your breathing until he was done.

you took greedy, deep breaths to fill your desperate lungs as soon as he released his grip on your head, licking the corners of your mouth clean of any leftover traces of his cum.

his face was still flushed, coated with a thin sheen of sweat that highlighted his angular features.

“well,” he said after some time, breaking the silence. “are you going to be late to your meeting?”

“what meeting?” you responded, confused. he merely cocked a brow, equally confused.

“ah,” you remembered with a small grin. “levi, love, there was no meeting. i lied—you’ll forgive me, right?”

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

tagging: @yvonnesky @alert-arlert @itsgoldnsage @tsookieloopie @semisgroupie @levylovegood @alittleoaktree @chaosgremlinbrat @mutsu422 @sen-brainrot @the-one-mrs-koutaro @devilgirlcrybabiey @chaos-night @erishaitto

[hope-for-the-best-98]

Hold me Close

Benny Miller X OFC (Rosie Adams)

Masterlist | Helplessly Hoping Masterlist | Spotify Playlist

Summary: Benny has a PTSD attack in a parking lot.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: PTSD triggers. Talks of the military and mental wellbeing. Brief mention of domestic abuse & hostile family environment. Allusions to smut. (Please let me know if I missed anything!)

A/N: This is my first attempt at a Benny fic, and my first attempt at writing in a long while. This is a part of the 'Helplessly Hoping 'Verse' which will be written in non-chronological order in a series of one shots.

Thank you to @foli-vora for looking this over for me and just being one of the kindest people on this hell site. And also thank you to @wyn-n-tonic for a conversation we had a while ago about writing for yourself, because damn did Tumblr become shitty for a while (and still a little is). But here it is, my sweet boy Benny and his beautiful girl, Rosie Adams. Enjoy!

---

Shopping with Benjamin Miller is like shopping with a big kid. Rosie has her list, the essentials to keep them both fed, the house clean. But soon the cart fills with junk food, ‘Monopoly: Cheaters Edition’ and a projector on sale he found hidden at the bottom of a shelf.

It’s the last one, babe. It’s meant to be.

They have both got their arms full with bags, Benny chuckling next to her as he bumps his hip into hers as they walk out of the store. “So… We’re watching Star Wars tonight right?”

“You wanna use your new toy, hmm?”

“Maybe.” He grins, adjusting the bags in his arms. “Can screen it on the living room wall? Heat up some popcorn, fool around a little under the blanket?”

Before she can even respond a loud bang goes off behind them. It sounds like a firework, a loud snap followed by crackles. It’s harsh as it rattles through their ears. Her body tenses up, her arms gripping onto the bags as she goes to turn to look at it.

She feels arms wrap around her and she’s being pulled towards the ground. She hits the concrete hard, her shoulder taking the brute of the force. She quickly realises Benny is above her, his body shielding hers as his head turns towards the noise. His nostrils are flared, his chest moving up and down rapidly as he scopes out the area. She sees a car drive by, smoke spewing out of the exhaust as another loud bang echoes through the parking lot.

“Benny, baby, it was just a car backfiring as we were leaving the store. It’s okay. We’re safe. Just breathe. Can I touch you?”

His eyes dart down to look into hers, his pupils the sizes of pins as he nods his head. “I-it sounded like…”

Rosie winces as she tries to take the weight of her shoulder and she reaches up and wraps her hand around the back of his neck. She feels his body shaking under her touch and she gently runs her hand through his hair, moving slowly to massage his temple for a moment.

“I know, baby. But it’s okay.” She moves her hand down to his chest and his heart is thumping against his ribcage.

“Just take a deep breath. In through your nose and out through your mouth.”

Rosie notices a few onlookers by the store entrance and an older man walking towards them. “Just stay calm, okay?” She sits up on her knees and takes his hand in hers, pressing it against her chest. “Match my breathing.”

She takes a deep breath in, holds it a few seconds, and then releases. She sees Benny trying to match her as he shakes uncontrollably, his body trying to burn through the adrenaline. “You’re doing good, baby. Just focus on breathing while I talk to this man.”

His head turns quickly and she feels his body tense up again, his muscles bunching up under his henley.

“It’s okay, Benny. He just wants to know if you’re okay. Look at me.” She cups his face, forcing his head to turn back to her. She locks eyes with him again and notices sweat building on his hairline as he continues to shake.

“Can you tell me where we are?”

“Where…” He looks confused for a moment before taking a deep breath. “S-Safeway… We got groceries.”

“That’s good.” She smiles. “You picked up that projector, remember? We were gonna go home and watch New Hope.”

He nods, his hand reaching up for her wrist to pull her closer. He presses his forehead to her shoulder as he starts to gain control of his breathing.

“You kids okay?” The man asks as he stops a few feet away.

Thank God, she thinks.

“Yep. We’re fine, thank you.”

“The car backfire got you too, huh?” The man pushes up the sleeve on his t-shirt to show a tattoo of the American flag behind an eagle. “Spent twenty years of my life serving. Now I work at the recruitment office in the city. But still, loud noises can put me into fight or flight mode. Nothing wrong with it, son.” Benny reluctantly lifts his head from her shoulder and looks back at the man.

He’s met the type before. Serves for most of their life, finally retires only to realise they don’t have a life outside of the military. They feel they have no purpose, no drive anymore, even with their new found freedom. So they find a normality in military work back home, away from the early morning drills and patrols. They normally work in recruitment, helping to shape the new batch of young faced soldiers ready for deployment.

Something about the man reminds Benny of his father, or maybe who he had hoped his father would have become after retiring from the army. But his mother was left with a broken man, a man who would only get angrier with every bottle of booze he drank. Who would smack her around for trying to help his addiction. A traditional man who forced both of his sons into a life they had no choice but to lead.

I ain’t raising no pussy musician in this house. The men in this family fight for their country.

The conversation he had with him at 17 years old still lingers in his head, and it starts to makes him feel sick.

“Home.” Is all he can imagine to say before he has to swallow the bile down that climbs his throat.

Rosie squeezes his hand reassuringly. “I’ll get you home.”

“Now when you’re ready,” the man says after a moment, taking another step closer, “I’m gonna just pick up your groceries and I’ll help you kids to your car?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” Rosie presses her lips into Benny’s temple. “Let’s get you into the car and I'll find something for you to drink?”

He swallows hard again. “Did… Did I hurt you?”

She shakes her head as she pushes back his hair from his clammy forehead. “No. Just startled me a little. But we’re okay. Tell me again where we are.”

“The Safeway parking lot.” He whispers. “We got groceries.”

“Yep we did. And you picked up the cheaters edition of Monopoly. Because I apparently already cheated at the normal one.”

“You always damn win.” He mumbles.

“You always let me buy Boardwalk and Park Place.” She teases, gently caressing his cheek. “Now let’s go and get in the car and head home?”

He nods slowly, holding onto her tightly as he pulls them both up to their feet. His hand runs along her arm, wiping off the dirt and gravel.

“I did hurt you.” He sighs, skimming his thumb across a few scrapes dotted along her skin.

“Honestly, I didn’t realise they were there.”  She turns his arm over and wipes off the dirt and sees similar cuts. “See? You have the same and I bet you don’t even feel them. I can clean them when we get home.”

She grips his hand tightly. “The car’s not even thirty steps away. I’m gonna get you inside and put some music on. I’m gonna get the groceries in the trunk and then I’ll drive us home. Just don’t let go of me, okay? You know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She realises he’s burnt through the last of his adrenaline as he leans into her, his arm wrapping around her shoulders as he presses his chin into the top of her head. “M’sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” She promises, looking back and nodding at the man. He smiles back at her and starts to collect their groceries as she walks Benny to the car. “I’m gonna run you a nice bath when we get home. You want those nice salts you had before?”

“They smell nice.” He mumbles into her hair and she smiles.

“It’s from the set you bought me last Christmas. So you must have good taste.” She rummages into her bag for her car keys and opens the passenger door quickly. She helps Benny inside and strokes his hair back. “You still taking nice deep breaths for me?”

He nods as she turns on the stereo and the Kings of Leon CD they had playing on the trip down here starts to play. “Do you want a certain song?”

He shakes his head as the chorus to ‘I Want You’ starts to play. “This is fine.”

“I’m just going to get the groceries in the trunk and I’ll get you some water. Are you going to be okay for a minute?”

He bows his head slightly as he speaks. “M’sorry baby.”

“You did nothing wrong, promise.” She kisses his forehead gently. “Now just focus on taking nice deep breaths. Do you want the door open or closed while I get the groceries?”

He pauses for a moment. “Closed.”

“Okay.” She kisses his forehead again and then his cheek. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

She closes the passenger door as quietly as possible and walks around to the trunk. The man is already standing there, his arms loaded with their bags of groceries. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem ma’am.”

“You can call me Rosie.” She smiles gently as she opens the trunk.

He nods, smiling. “Name’s Arthur.”

“Well, thank you for helping me, Arthur.” She takes a couple of the bags and starts loading them into the trunk. She quickly rummages through, making sure nothing is broken before grabbing a bottle of water from a pack.

She shuts the trunk quietly and turns to him. “Again, thank you.”

“Really it’s no big deal. You did a good job back there. This happen often?”

“He uh… Had a bad attack not that long after coming back. Neighbours threw a birthday party, it had fireworks so… I guess you can imagine. So I did some research, made sure I knew how to help him through one if it ever happened again.”

“He’s lucky to have someone like you.”

Rosie looks down, her nail picking at the corner of the label on the bottle as she shifts from one foot to the other. Lucky’s not the word she would use.

“I should be getting him home.”

“Of course. But here,” Arthur takes out his wallet and pulls out a card, “if he ever needs to talk about it, he can call that number or come down to the recruitment office. I work there most days. Might help speaking to someone with similar experiences.”

She takes the card and slides it into her jean pocket. “Thanks. I’ll make sure to give it to him.”

“Have a good day ma’am.” Arthur nods his head at her as he heads back towards the store entrance.

She gets into the car and turns down the music to get Benny’s attention. “Take this.” She holds out the bottle of water. “You need some fluids.”

He takes the bottle, twisting the cap before drinking half of it. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Thanks.”

She reaches over slowly and cups his cheek in her hand. “It’s okay.” She reassures him. “Things like this happen. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“I know.” He says quietly, pulling her closer to press his forehead against hers.

She stays like that for a few moments, his breathing finally evening out as he cups the back of her head. She feels his fingers glide through her hair, his lips brushing against hers. “I love you so much, darlin’.”

“I love you too.” She whispers, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Let me take you home.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Benny finally feels like he isn’t on high alert when he is settled in the bathtub. His back is against Rosie’s chest as she strokes his hair back from his forehead gently. His body relaxes from the bath salt aromas, the copious amount of bubble bath she poured in, and the playlist they made together playing from her phone resting on top of the folded towels.

He turns his head to look up at her, his nose brushing against her throat.  “I know you’re gonna tell me to shuddup, but thank you for putting up with my shit.”

He hears her let out a sigh as she looks down at him, her nose bumping against his. “You’re right. I am gonna tell you to ’shuddup’” She presses a kiss to his forehead, her hand running up and down his chest.

He chuckles softly, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek. “Whatever you say ma’am.”

She traces her finger across his chest, drawing random patterns before he grabs her hand gently. “What’s on your mind?”

She bites her lip, pressing her forehead against his. “Are you sure you’re ready for the fight tomorrow night?”

“Babe, it’s two grand.”

“I don’t want you doing it if you’re not in the right mindset.”

“I can take ‘em.”

“Isn’t the guy like… Twenty-one?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Nothing.” She sighs, shaking her head. “Forget I said anything.”

They both lay in silence for a moment, Benny’s hand trailing up her arm before stopping suddenly. His fingertip brushes against the raised skin from the fall and he frowns when he sees the beginning of a bruise start to form.

“You still got that guy's card?”

She nods her head quickly. “Left in on your nightstand. Are you gonna call him?”

“I’ll… Try and call him in the morning before I leave for the gym, okay?”

She cups the back of his head, smiling. “Thank you, baby.” She kisses him gently and chuckles when his hand dips into the water and caresses her thigh.

“What happened to no sex before a fight, hm?”

“No harm in a little foolin’ around.”

She laughs as he sits up quickly, the water sloshing over the side of the tub as he cages her in his arms and kisses her hard.

Benny went on to knock the guy out in round three.