#so don’t get too anxious just yet is my thoughts lol

[akkivee]

hello!! talking about rhyme anima+, have you seen that it's taking place after 2drb?? what do you think about it?? cuz i'm kinda scared about what might happen to the plot plwjhdjsbdbbx

i have!!!! i think your level of concern towards the plot should be dependent on whether or not rhyme anima intends to stay its own separate canon or not lol

like to me, we have a whole six months before rhyme anima➕ comes out which is plenty of time to establish where the plot goes with or without rhyme anima ➕’s contribution to the series!!! i’m personally more concerned about what’ll come out in that period of time lol

[street-smarts00]

Complimentary Colors

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WC: 7.3K

Summary: After recently joining the team, you and Spencer could never get along. What started off as you two ignoring each other turned into bickering at work. What happens when a stressful moment for you turns into an opportunity to get to know this fascinating coworker of yours?

tags: enemies to lovers, fluff, brief mentions of crime/murder at the beginning (talking about cases/kidnapping), reader is shy and anxious, reader looks young for her age. (reader might be female but i don’t think i specified)

A/N: I haven’t written anything in years and I’ve been on a criminal minds kick for a while. I had this idea loosely based off a prompt I saw on cai by (ApolloTheBoykisser) so thanks babes ;) also for once I had a fic of mine beta read lol my bestie beta read this for me. This is also posted on my AO3 page.

You had been working at the BAU for the last few weeks. You tried to get to know most of your coworkers and it seemed like you were making great progress. You had heard a lot about the team before you joined and were pretty intimidated by them at first. Okay- you were still pretty intimidated by them. But you pushed through your quiet exterior little by little and slowly but surely tried to get to know them. 

All except for Spencer Reid. It seemed like he was trying to avoid you. He was always very quiet and would barely talk to you. Being a shy person yourself, you thought maybe he was just shy or a quiet guy. However, he continued to ignore you except for when he had to acknowledge you for work. 

His coldness towards you was increasingly annoying as time went on, and your perception of him had slowly warped. The things about him you once found endearing, you now forced yourself to hate about him. If he rambled for too long, it could potentially make your blood boil. However, you could never stop paying attention to when he rambled on about facts or statistics. You didn’t want to admit it, but you found him fascinating.

It didn’t take that long for him to start acknowledging you, but this soon turned into the two of you bickering like children. When you were discussing cases or profiles, you both would argue over motives, victimology, crime scenes- literally anything about the case- you two could turn it into an opportunity to contradict the other. You both still kept a level of professionalism to not let your rivalry affect your job.��

But there was always this tension between the two of you when you were in close quarters for too long. 

And at some point you both reached your boiling point. 

Last week, while the team was on a case, you and Spencer had gotten into a little spat once again. This time it went beyond the slight bickering or contraction. In the middle of the local precinct, you two were at each other's throats. 

“What was that?” You asked after you and Spencer left the interview room that held a victims family. 

“I was working off of the profile . . .” 

“You mean the profile we haven’t finished?” You interrupted. “The one we are still currently working on and have yet to disclose?” 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t work off of the information we already have,” he objected. 

“You told her information we are still unsure about. We don’t know for a fact how long he keeps them alive,” you accused while placing your hands on your hips, trying to conceal your frustration but failing.

“Guys.” Someone tried to tone things down. Neither of you heard who and you weren’t backing down.

“If I remember correctly, I heard you discussing this very subject and inputting your thoughts  . . .” 

“You still shouldn’t have told her! Especially when you don’t know for sure if her daughter could be alive,” you seethed stepping closer.

“Would you rather me hide everything from the mother who’s suffering from the disappearance of her daughter?” He asked, matching your tone and taking a step forward. 

“I didn’t say that!” 

“It sure sounded like it.” 

“Reid. Y/N.” The two of you turned your heads to your boss like two deer caught in headlights. 

“With me, now.” Hotch demanded and led you to an empty interview room. 

You could tell how angry he was- despite the fact that his stoic face represented almost every emotion in the book. But by the tone of his voice, you knew you and Spencer had messed up. 

“You two do not only represent this team, you represent the bureau. These cops are already not pleased with the idea of their boss calling us in and I do not need you arguing in front of them and giving them a reason to take us off this case. You must learn to respect and cooperate with one another or I will take you both off this case. Do I make myself clear?” He lectured. 

You both replied with a monotone “yes.”

“Good” 

Ever since your argument, you both had been relatively quiet towards one another. Like it had been in the beginning when you were ignoring each other. But that didn’t stop you from letting him invade your mind at every waking minute. It almost saddened you in a way there was no more bickering or quick remarks with him. With how much it annoyed you, you never thought you would miss it. 

The team had just finished a case and before everyone packed up and went home, Rossi announced that tomorrow everyone should come over for a little ‘get our minds off work’ get together. Your coworkers all thought it was a great idea to relax after the last few very stressful cases. 

As excited as you were to finally go to one of Rossi’s house parties, you were also scared shitless. Parties with relatively new people in your life were hard. You were so quiet around new people and were scared to approach others; you often waited to be approached. To you, being a profiler was easier than having a social life. 

But, maybe this time would be different. There’s not that many people on the team and you’d already started to familiarize yourself with them. 

The next day, you were pulling up to Rossi’s house. If there was anything else to be intimidated by with this man- besides his years of experience in the BAU- it was this giant house. You were greeted by the man himself at his front door. 

“Y/N, glad you could make it.” He opened the door and welcomed you in. 

He led you inside to where everyone else was gathered. Everyone was cheery at your arrival. Penelope with her clicky heels ran up to you and greeted you with a hug. It was refreshing to be around people who were so welcoming. It made it a little bit easier to really let your walls down. 

Well, almost everyone. Spencer gave you a small wave from where he stood. 

The night continued on and you would occasionally engage in conversation with the team. At this point, you were off to the side- standing in the kitchen and occasionally sipping some wine that Rossi had been bragging about and was just so excited for everyone to try. You were a bit too overwhelmed to go back to talking. The music was getting a bit loud and the lights seemed to be too bright. You opted for sitting on the barstool next to the counter and observing everyone around.  

They were all off in small groups or pairs around the house. All except for you and Spencer. He was another outlier and standing away from all the commotion. You looked over in his direction and he caught your eye. You both glared at each other and you quickly averted your gaze away from him. Your thoughts started to race and you began playing with your hair. 

After a moment, he glanced over in your direction again when you weren’t looking. He was unintentionally profiling you and noticed you getting overstimulated. Your eyes laser focused like you zoned out, your foot tapping against the chair, and your hand anxiously playing with your hair. 

While he wasn’t exactly your friend, he did understand what it felt like when social gatherings got overwhelming. He made his way over to you, careful not to make you more nervous or uncomfortable. 

“You okay?” He asked you. You were pulled away from spacing out. His voice sounded a bit concerned- which took you by surprise. You were partially relieved someone approached you to help bring you back down to earth. That someone noticed something was off. What confused you was the fact that person was Spencer. 

“I’m fine.”

He was well aware of what it meant when someone was “fine” and you were clearly not fine. He felt bad that you were so quick to shut down his attempt to check on you. After all, it was his fault and he knew that. 

“Do you wanna step outside?” He asked. 

You were conflicted. You didn’t want to be outside alone with him, but at the same time, you needed some time away from everything. Maybe it would help calm your nerves. 

“Maybe for a bit.” 

You followed him outside onto the back patio. You took note of the fresh air and the muffled sounds from inside. It all felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. Pretty soon though, you realized how awkward it was to be outside alone with him. 

Spencer cleared his throat and spoke to break the silence, “Sometimes these parties can be . . . a lot.”

“A little bit. I was doing fine for a while but I think my social battery is running low.” You confessed to explain your discomfort. 

“Yeah” he replied. He appreciated the fact that you felt comfortable enough to express this with him. He tried to relate to you. “It’s the same with me. Sometimes I just need a moment to collect myself.” 

“Exactly.” You were relieved to hear that he felt the same way. “Plus it doesn’t help that I'm so new to the team.” You crossed your arms and slightly closed yourself off.

“I was the same way when I first joined.” He told her to try and ease your concerns. You were just like him at some point. The new guy and just trying to figure out how you fit in. 

“It’s difficult at first, but you settle down after a bit. Once you get to know everyone.” 

“Yeah it’s just the whole getting to know them part is a bit . . .” You abruptly stopped, hesitating to reveal too much to him.  

“A bit what?” 

“Intimidating,” you confessed, avoiding his eyes.

He obviously noticed your hesitance and avoided his usual behavior with you. You were always so strong and quick to banter with him. But now you seemed vulnerable, and he didn’t want to take advantage of that. 

“It’s not just you, I promise.” He was being honest. This was the calmest and most genuine conversation the two of you had ever had. “I find them all pretty intimidating.” 

Your eyebrows raised at his confession. How could he possibly be intimidated by these people?

“Really? But you’ve known them for so long. You all are so close.” 

“Close doesn’t mean you can’t be a little intimidated,” he replied. It might not make much sense, but it was the truth. 

“I mean Hotch is always stonewall and silent, no matter what you say to him. And don’t even get me started on Morgan.” He joked, knowing you would understand. 

You lightly chuckled at his joke. “I get what you mean.” You were starting to understand him more. You thought it was ironic that one of the team members you were first intimidated by was also intimidated by the team. Now he was starting to seem less intimidating or annoying and more approachable. You kinda liked seeing this new side of Spencer. 

“I guess I’ve always been like that. Worried to get to know people or open up.” You weren’t entirely sure why you were telling him this, but you knew he would understand. 

"I think when you're afraid of being hurt or judged or misunderstood by people, you try to keep your guard up." He told you, speaking from experience. From a young age until now, he's always felt misunderstood. 

"And I think...maybe that's why you're on edge with me? You're not sure what to expect from me."

“Are you profiling me?” You asked jokingly. Spencer however thought you were serious and you noticed him tense up. 

“I’m kidding.” Your expression softened to let him know you weren’t actually accusing him of profiling you. “I’m gonna be completely honest, I’ve been on edge with you cause I thought you didn’t like me.” 

He was a bit taken off guard by your statement. But at the same time, he couldn't deny it. He didn't dislike you now, but at first, he wasn't exactly fond of you. And now he was ashamed of that.

"I didn't like you." He admitted. "I thought you were pretentious, too eager to be accepted. I think I saw you as competition." 

Spencer’s comment did sting. It was never sunshine and rainbows to hear someone doesn't like you. However, you did take note of his language. He said “didn’t,” “thought” and “saw,” all past tense. Does this mean he doesn’t dislike you now? What you did appreciate was his reciprocated honesty. You both were making some progress in your relationship and you wanted to continue it. 

“I was eager to be accepted. I wanted to feel like I belonged.” 

“I know how you feel.” He expressed his sympathy. “I regret not giving you a chance. You’re not like I thought you were.” He also appreciated seeing this different side of you.

“You’re not like I thought you were.” You admitted. 

A little smirk tugs at his lips, “So I’m not as pretentious and selfish as you thought?” 

You lightly chucked, “I never thought you were selfish, but I did think you were a ‘know-it-all’ and trying to show off.” 

Spencer really didn’t want you to think he was a show off. Sure- he had a vast amount of knowledge, but he never wanted you to think he was bragging or that he knew better than you. “I do know a lot but I promise I’m not trying to show off. I just have all this information in my head and I want to share it with people or I’m really passionate about something and want to talk about it.” 

You understood that feeling all too well. There were so many times you wanted to ramble on about things you cared about or had knowledge on, but for the most part just stayed quiet. Meanwhile, he didn't keep quiet. He would go on and on. And while almost everyone else was either rolling their eyes or trying to shut him up, you were listening intently. You didn’t want to admit it back then, but now you were feeling up to it. 

“I will admit, while I did think of you as a know it all, I found a lot of your tangents interesting.” You admitted. 

His eyebrows raised in surprise. He was so used to people dismissing him. It was nice to hear you often would listen. “Really? You didn't mind me babbling on?" He asked, relieved with your response. 

"I mean, it is something I have trouble with. I tend to talk too much.” 

“Oh Dr. Reid I am very familiar with rambling and being worried about talking too much.” You paused for a moment- considering how much more you wanted to share with him. “I know it may not seem like it because I’m always quiet around the team but.. once I get comfortable around people, I actually get very rambly”

"You do?" He asked, sounding surprised. “About what?”  

“Really anything. Mostly things I’m passionate about like you. I’ll also tend to go on tangents about memories or just things happening in my life.” 

You made your way to a bench on the patio as you spoke. Spencer followed and sat down on a chair adjacent to you. You brought your attention back to him and noticed his focused gaze on you and he quickly licked his lips, a habit you noticed he did all the time.

"You really are a lot like me. You're just quieter at first." He added, teasing you a little. While he was not one for social cues, he had the sudden urge to be bold and make a joke. "Maybe next time I see you rambling, I won't immediately contradict you." 

You dramatically dropped your jaw and placed your hand over your heart. “Wow, you really know how to give a compliment,” you said, pretending to be offended. 

He laughed with a bright grin. "I'm sorry. Let me rephrase. The fact that you're so silent and reserved makes it that much more thrilling when I find out how much of a chatterbox you actually are." He joked, being playful as before.

Your cheeky smile slightly falters for a moment. You hoped he wouldn’t notice but he did. “I think you won’t be so thrilled once I actually turn into a chatterbox around you.”

"Actually I think I would find it intriguing." He told you, looking directly into your eyes. "The quiet ones tend to be the most interesting and complex when they do end up talking."

“I’m not that interesting.”

“I beg to differ. You’re very interesting. Probably the most interesting person on the team.” 

Did he really say that? Did he mean it? Or was he just being nice? You tried not to profile him, but couldn’t help it. His body language expressed he was being honest. Uncrossed legs and arms, open palms, eye contact. The only thing you didn’t notice when studying his body language was his dilated pupils. 

“Thank you,” you smiled at his compliment, “I doubt I’m the most interesting though. You maybe, Mr. Three PHDs and can read 20,000 words per minute.” 

He smiled back at you, “Just because I'm well educated doesn’t mean you can’t be as interesting as me, if not more.” 

You couldn’t believe he was saying such nice things to you. This was the first time you guys were actually making some kind of connection.. and it felt wonderful. 

“I still can’t believe we’ve known each other for this long but are just now talking. And by talking, I mean not getting into a spat after speaking for more than 3 minutes.” You confessed with a hint of playfulness in your voice at your joke. 

“Yeah, I feel like I barely know you.” 

“What would you like to know?” You asked. 

He thought for a moment trying to think of a question to ask. You noticed once again that he licked his lips, trying to concentrate. 

“Let’s start with something simple. What’s your favorite color?” He asked. 

“Wow, I think that’s a bit too personal.” You said, voice laced with sarcasm. You tried your hardest to contain your amusement but started to smile. He smiled back at you. At first, he was always confused with sarcasm and social cues. To be honest, he still was. But he could just tell with you. He knew when you were joking and when you were being serious. He found your sense of humor amusing. 

“Yellow.” You answered. “What’s yours?” 

“Purple.” He replied. 

You intended to leave it inside your head- but a quiet “huh” made it past your lips as an idea came into focus. 

“What? Is it my choice for my favorite color?” He tried to joke with you but was also a little bit serious. 

“Oh no, it's just I thought it was interesting because those are complementary colors. You know how they are opposite on the color wheel?” You asked even though you figured he knew. 

He nodded his head, “Yes! Because they are on opposite ends of the color wheel, when they’re used together it creates a vibrant contrast and enhances visual appeal. The two colors almost balance each other out and support each other's intensity. Complimentary colors are a key component to color theory.” He suddenly noticed how long he was talking and his posture stiffened. He pressed his lips into a thin line and avoided eye contact. “Told you I talk too much.”

“And I told you that I find your rambling interesting.” 

His head perked back up at you. You genuinely wanted to listen to him. It was refreshing to talk to someone that didn’t cut him off or zone out. 

“That’s kinda like us though, don’t you think?” 

“What’s like us?” He asked confused, still thinking about the fact that you actually enjoy listening to what he has to say. 

“How our favorite colors are complimentary colors. Like you said, they support each other's intensity. When you first see them they’re opposites, but the more you look the more they compliment each other.” 

He softly smiles. “That does sound like us. The more we learn about each other, the more we find we have in common.” 

There was a short pause where you both considered his statement. You did want to know more about him. You wanted to know all of him. 

“Can I ask you a question this time?” 

“Of course.” 

“So, you're always reading. Like everywhere you go, you carry a book with you. I wanna know: what’s a book you could read over and over again and never get tired of?” You wanted to know beyond his favorite color. You wanted to get to the various  building blocks that made him the way he was. 

Spencer considered your question for a moment. Trying to go through the near infinite list of books he’s read in his life. You could tell he was concentrating on his answer because licked his lips. “Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.” 

“Is he one of your favorite authors?” 

“Yes.” He said almost immediately, confident in his answer. 

“How come you like that book so much?” You asked.

You could see this sort of spark enter his eyes the more you asked about it. Giving him the chance to share his passions. ”Oliver Twist was one of the first books that used satire to deliver social commentary. Particularly in this book the social commentary was aimed at poverty in 19th century England. The book also quickly gained attention after its publication due to the scandalous subject matter in which crimes, such as murder, were depicted in detail.” 

Spencer finally stopped rambling and almost looked as if he caught his breath from the endless talking. But what he was met with was your undivided attention.

”That sounds really interesting, maybe one day I should give it a read.” You say with a soft smile.

“You should,” he matched your smile, but it seemed a bit more sheepish due to his brief tangent. “Have you ever read Charles Dickens before?”

You shook your head in response. “I’ve never read anything by him. I actually don’t read much. But I used to in high school.” You revealed. 

“What have you read?” He asked. He leaned slightly forward and unconsciously mirrored your body language and placed his right hand on his leg like you did yours.

“Pretty much the same books everyone else had to read for school.” You paused and tapped your fingers trying to refresh your memory.

“To Kill A Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, 1984, um.. a few Shakespeare books.” You answered with the few books you could remember. 

“Which one did you like the most?” 

“I’m not sure”, you sighed and thought about his question, wanting to give him a genuine answer. “Maybe.. Macbeth. I remember finding the story interesting and I did a group project on Macbeth and Lady Macbeth's descent into madness. Like the scene where she’s hallucinating the blood on her hands.” 

Your voice started to pick up speed and volume ever so slightly. He could tell you were getting more passionate the more you spoke. Subtly displaying how you could ramble once you opened up to someone. He smiled as you continued, happy to see that you felt comfortable enough around him to let a hidden part of yourself out into the open. 

“I guess that kinda explains why I wanted to be a profiler and learn about psychology and forensics. I was interested in how Lady Macbeth's guilt manifested and caused her delusions. I wanted to understand why people did the things they did.”

“I can tell, you have this curiosity. You want to understand. Know the ‘why’. He mentally recalled the times you would express your curiosity during work. 

“Yeah, pretty much.” 

He pressed his lips in a line. “Is it- is it my turn to ask you something now?” He stuttered slightly. 

“I mean you don’t have to. It’s nobody’s ‘turn’ but you can if you want.” 

“I do.” He replied immediately. The corners of your mouth perked up into a small smile. He mirrored you.

“I may be stealing your previous question. Like you said you don’t read much. But I have noticed you listen to music a lot. I want to know a song you could listen to over and over again.” 

He was right, you often listen to music. Mostly on your way into work or on the jet, you would be wearing your signature headphones and have some playlist on. It was your own way of coping with the stress of your job. You looked down at the ground as you recalled the songs in your favorite playlist. 

“Dreams by The Cranberries.” You brought your eyes back up to face him. But what you saw was confusion in Spencer’s eyes. He tried to hide it but you knew better. “Have you heard that song?”

He did that little sideways pout you often saw him doing when he was in awkward situations.

“I’m not sure,” he replied. Spencer broke eye contact, embarrassed he didn’t know something from pop culture. 

“It’s okay. Remind me next time I have my headphones and I’ll show you.” You spoke calmly to reassure him there was nothing to be embarrassed about. 

He brought his attention back to you. Relieved to hear your gesture instead of a quip about his lack of pop culture knowledge like he was used to. 

“I will.” 

“Alright my turn.” You shifted your weight and brought your legs up to your side so your whole body could face him. “Um, it's kind of a personal question though. I’m curious about something.” 

“Go ahead. What is it?” He asked, giving you his whole undivided attention. 

“Does it ever bother you when people question your age when you say how educated you are?” 

He was somewhat thrown off by your question, but something told him you've wanted to ask him this for a while.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “I wouldn’t say it bothers me. Considering I have had such an extensive education so early in my life, it’s completely understandable that someone would question how I did it at a young age.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed in response. He knew that wasn’t the answer you were looking for. 

“Can I ask you something personal?” He asked before asking his real question. He appreciated your concerns about potentially pushing a boundary and he reciprocated it. He didn’t want to break this newfound friendship- if he could call it that- by making you uncomfortable. 

You nodded your head, silently telling him it was okay.

He slightly fidgeted with his hands. “Did you ask me that because people question your age?” 

“Yes,” you answered hesitantly. “I’ve never looked my age.” 

He thought about his next question before asking. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, I’m just trying to understand. Why does that bother you?” 

“It bothers me when people don’t take me seriously. I mean I’m in my late 20s and some people still think I look fresh out of college. It hasn’t happened as often since I joined the BAU but so many people in law enforcement don’t take me seriously. People tend to think I’m too innocent to have a job like this.” You confessed to him as you avoided looking him in the eyes.

"I wouldn't say you're innocent.” His comment brought your eyes back to him. 

“But you do have a soft demeanor. It makes you approachable. If anything, those qualities are an incredible asset to this job whether it be when you're speaking to victims or their family members.” 

Even though he would often throw snarky retorts to you in the past and try to get under your skin, he always admired how good you were at your job. Of course, you were an amazing profiler and had no trouble standing against dangerous unsubs. But the way you handled incredibly sensitive situations with such calmness and comfort with others was admirable. During cases with children, you were able to ease their worries and provide a safe space.

“While you are very sweet and shy, I would never call you innocent.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at his compliments. You felt understood hearing his affirmation. It also warmed your heart to hear that he thought so highly of you. Especially since the last few weeks, you thought he hated your guts. Although- his comment did make you more curious about how you were perceived. “Half the time I don’t realize how shy I am or how I present myself,” you weakly chuckled.

“There were actually a lot of ways to deduce that you're shy,” he matched your lighthearted tone but also kept a sense of seriousness to prove he was being genuine.

“Was it the fact that I was sitting by myself and scared to talk to them?” You half joked as you figured that’s what he was going to imply.

"That was part of it, yes. But besides that, it was the way you often avoid direct eye contact, and the tone of your voice. It's gentle and low, as if you're afraid of coming on too strong.” He was too caught up in his thoughts and observations to realize how much he was divulging. “You keep your distance and your words are always measured or not overly assertive. Almost like if you do come off assertive you will receive backlash." 

When he met your eyes again, he noticed how frozen you were. On the outside you didn't reveal much, simply had a stoic expression. He knew you better than that. He knew that he had hit a nerve and started to panic that he went too far. He had finally wrecked this slowly growing friendship like he thought he would, by being himself. 

“Wow, yeah that sounds pretty spot on,” you agreed. You sounded soft spoken and played with your hair again, of course without your knowledge.      

“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He abruptly spattered in a panic.

“No it’s okay really,” you interrupted trying to reassure him. “I just didn’t expect you to be so ... correct.” 

He pressed his lips into a thin line, relieved he didn't mess things up, but still slightly worried he had left you feeling exposed. "I guess I'm just good at noticing things about people,” he shrugged.

“You forget, we get paid to notice things about people,” you joked with him, trying to make him feel better by lightening the situation. Of course, it worked. 

"That's true." He chuckled and paused for a moment to consider. Then he continued with his profile of you. 

"It's just the way your voice softens whenever you become uncomfortable, almost whispering or lowering in tone. Or your nervous habits, like when you play with your hair." It was a gesture he was pretty keen on catching.

You suddenly were very aware of the fact you were playing with your hair. You quickly dropped your hands and crossed your arms. 

"It's not bad that you do that, you know,” his voice had a slight crack in it. “It's just something you do subconsciously." He told her, trying to be comforting.

“Do you wanna know something you do subconsciously?” You asked, your voice with a hint of teasing. You decided that if he was going to profile you, you were going to profile him back. 

He noticed your tone and that you had gained a bit more confidence. "Sure, hit me." He said as he awaited your reply with curiosity and interest.

“You poke your tongue out a lot or lick your lips. Most of the time when you’re concentrating or lost in thought. Which means you definitely need to start using chapstick. I’ve seen you do it a lot since we’ve been out here.” You explained.

"So, are you telling me my lips are dry?" He replied playfully, his grin widening.

“They probably are,” you lightly laughed at the silliness of his question. He laughed along with you and subconsciously went to lick his lips again, but caught himself.

“I'm gonna be thinking about this so much more now,” he confessed. 

“Consider it payback for pointing out how much I play with my hair when I'm anxious. I don’t know what to do with my hands now,” you remarked as you dramatically waved your hands in the air.                                 

“Sorry,” he awkwardly apologized.

“I already told you it’s alright. You're not the only one who analyzes behavior. I’ve noticed plenty of things you do and why you do it.” 

“Like what?” He furrowed his eyebrows, curious what particular things about him you had profiled. He noticed something though. The confidence you once had, had washed away after you collected your thoughts.  

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you stated.

"You won’t make me uncomfortable,” he responded almost immediately. “I promise. I really want to know.”

You took a deep breath before explaining your observations. “You desperately want to be heard. You love to share the endless knowledge you have, but when someone walks away or cuts you off your reaction is almost that of deflating. And when someone does show a bit of interest in what you have to say your voice perks up and almost cracks with excitement. Then you talk a lot faster, probably a mixture of excitement and as a way to keep the other person engaged and to not lose their attention.” 

Spencer carefully listened to every word you said. Not a single deduction was false. You had read him like a book in the short time you knew him. You noticed something about him that most of the team couldn’t pick up on. 

"You're right about everything,” he said with a soft tone. Almost everyone interrupted him, you never did. This got him thinking. Of course everyone on the team made observations about each other, they’re profilers of course. However, he wondered why you had made so many about him. 

"Are you always this observant about everyone? And I mean everyone. Or is it just me that gets the special treatment?" He asked his last question with a hint of a teasing tone.

You scoffed, “yeah right, like you get special treatment.” You thought about your response, not wanting to reveal too much.

“I guess I might have paid attention to you because you were the only one who was so closed off to me. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know who you were even if you weren’t going to tell me.” 

He was right, you were paying him special attention. The fact that you wanted to know who he was despite his closed off nature revealed enough. 

“So you admit it, I get special treatment?" He cheekily asked. 

“Oh shut up,” you retorted. 

“Make me.”

Your lips pursed, holding back a smile. 

Spencer noticed you were trying to hold back a smile and found it endearing. He also noticed something else about your reaction. You were blushing. You blushed as a result of his taunting. He got lost in the thought of you blushing from him. 

“Something you wanna share with the class?” You teased. 

He didn't want to admit it, not yet at least. He wanted to make you sweat just a little bit and get a reaction out of you. 

"I'm curious about something. Could you tell me what would cause someone's cheeks to flush?" He tried to seem genuine but of course he came off with a hint of cheekiness. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. You were completely oblivious to your red face and were confused by his random inquiry. 

“Are you questioning my profiling skills?” You lightly scoffed, not knowing what his true intentions were.

"No, not exactly. I just want to know what you think.”

Your expression changed to one of confusion but also amusement. You decided to play along with his little game.

“Well psychologically blushing could mean a multitude of things. Embarrassment, stress, anxiety, attraction.” While your voice stayed consistent, he noticed the change in your breath and how your eyes darted away from him. It was a brief expression, but he caught it. He got the answer he was looking for.

"And which one of those can explain why you’re blushing?" He raised an eyebrow and smirked as he leaned closer to you.

Your stomach dropped and eyes widened. You shifted your weight in your seat and touched your cheeks. “I’m not blushing..” You ignored his question.

"You are.”

You sighed and stood up, “Well if I am it’s probably because you just pointed it out and I’m embarrassed.” 

"Oh, really?" He taunted and followed you. "I think that you might be blushing for a different reason."

You bit your lip out of frustration and crossed your arms. “Are you profiling me Spencer?” 

"Maybe I am,” he smirked. "I would say that maybe you've been so interested in me that you've been paying a lot of attention. That's why you took note of so many of my habits and behavior." 

Your face got redder and you started playing with your hair again. You huffed, “I told you before, the reason I paid attention to you was because I didn’t know you.”

"Sure, but you pointed out how you kept noticing I licked my lips. Why were you looking at my lips in the first place?"  

You were caught between a rock and a hard place. “Why are you so interested in why I’m blushing or looking at your dumb face anyway? Why do you care so much?” You asked defensively. 

He couldn’t respond, he froze up. 

“I mean, you question why I pay so much attention to you but here you are doing the same thing to me. Trying to read me like a book,” you accused. 

He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I guess we're both curious about each other."

“I guess we are,” you responded. You saw his cheeks turn pink in reaction to your questioning. “Look who’s red now.”

If his face could even get redder, it did. For a man that could probably say a thousand words a minute, it seemed like none of them could fall from his lips. 

It was your turn to smirk. “I can’t believe I’ve managed to leave you speechless. Never thought that would happen.”

"Shut up,” he sheepishly scoffed. 

“Make me.”

Spencer felt his stomach flutter, he smiled bashfully at your mimicking his own teasing. The seconds passed and neither of you spoke, neither of you had words. Both of you in your own heads. In your head, you got a stroke of confidence. You didn't know where it came from, maybe the teasing, maybe the fact that you had him speechless. But you took it and ran with it.

”Maybe the reason you wanted to know why I was blushing so badly, is the same exact reason I was blushing,” you mumbled. 

The realization hit him in waves. You just admitted to the very thing he was trying to get out of you in the first place. He was speechless once again, but this was different. He stared at you with a stunned look, not knowing what to do. 

You took his blank expression as a negative reaction, thinking you came off too strong. You slowly backed away from him, regretting putting yourself out there. 

“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Just forget it.” You turned around to go back inside but felt something on your wrist. You turned around and saw Spencer had grabbed your wrist to stop you. His eyes wide and breath heavy.

"No. Don’t,” he begged. 

"Really?" You whispered softly. 

He smiled, "yes. Please don't take it back."

You smiled back at him bashfully. Spencer’s reaction make your stomach do backflips, but it made you wonder. 

"Can I ask, why did you pay such close attention to me? 

He released his light grasp on your wrist and instead placed your hand in his. "I couldn't stop analyzing every single detail about you. I wanted to know you inside and out. There was something about you that felt intoxicating. After every time I spoke to you, even if it was just us bickering or arguing, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” 

He looked down at your joined hands and started to rub his thumb over your hand. You looked up at him and smiled, glancing at his lips. “Well you definitely must be thinking about something now, you licked your lips.”

He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. You made him feel like he was on full display, like he was a book that only you could read. 

He slightly blushed at your comment. “I am. Can you guess what I'm thinking about?"

You grabbed his other hand with yours as a smirk grew on your face, “How close we are. How it’s probably driving you crazy..” You nearly whispered the last part as you leaned closer to him, “how I’m making you crazy..”

"You do.” Spencer wrapped one of his arms around your waist and placed his hand on the small of your back. A shiver ran down your spine as his hand touched your back. Of course, he could tell and was light headed by the effect you had on him. He’d never felt so intoxicated by someone before. “You’ve made me a mad man ever since I met you.” 

Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

“What about you?” He asked. “Do I make you crazy?” 

You glanced between his eyes and his lips. 

“Yes..”

It was like you both were on the exact same wavelength. You both dove in at the same time and slammed your lips together. Both of you just so desperate to get a taste of the other. The kiss was tender and passionate, with no single person in control. You both moved together in synced motions. All of the arguments, all the tension that had been slowly building up could be released.

When you finally parted, Spencer rested his forehead against yours. You felt his airy breath as he tried to come back down to earth. You placed a hand on his face and stroked his cheek with your thumb. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” he breathed. 

“I can tell,” you chuckled. “what’s stopping you from doing it again?”

“Do you want me to?” He asked desperately. 

You placed your other hand on the back of his neck, “I love hearing you talk.. but shut up and kiss me.

Before today he never liked the idea of you telling him what to do. But now, he was at your mercy. He didn’t hesitate and locked your lips with his once again. You both melted together like lovesick teenagers. But moments like these of course don’t last forever. 

The sound of the patio door opening fell deaf on both your ears. It wasn’t until you heard Derek Morgan that you both pulled away from each other. 

”What’s going on out here?” Derek questioned with a smirk. 

You and Spencer couldn’t speak, too frozen to react. 

His grin only grew, “My man,” he chuckled as he glanced at Spencer.

“Don’t kill each other while you're out here.”  Derek left the way he came and closed the patio door. 

You sighed, “He’s gonna tell someone isn’t he?”

“Yup”

~

He made his way back to his coworkers with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. “What’s got you all happy?” Emily asked. 

“Looks like our two angry birds are now two love birds,” he answered. 

“What? What are you talking about?” Penelope sprinted over as fast as she could with her heels. 

“How I just caught Reid and Y/N making out.”

The room exploded with chaos at the reactions to his news.

JJ, who was standing off to the side with Hotch, furrowed her eyebrows, “I thought they hated each other?” 

Hotch glanced towards the patio door and saw the light shadow of two figures. “No they don't. Not really.” 

[moomimania]

Trope: your boyfriend serenades you with a guitar by the campfire 🔥

I kept being reminded of this idea when hearing this song and initially thought it would become a fic. It became both lol. I'm really happy with how this image turned out though.

Read the little ficlet below 🧡

———————————————

It had been so long since they had sat by a fire together. The flames were reaching high, illuminating their isolated space in the woods with a warm, orange glow. Despite the crackling and sputtering from the fire, the night was quiet.

“I’m glad you found me,” said Snufkin.

Moomin fidgeted with his tail, a nervous habit that didn’t go by his best friend unnoticed. “Me too,” said the troll, still not courageous enough to look Snufkin in the eyes. “I knew to look for the campfire.”

Snufkin smiled fondly. “Clever troll.”

“Snufkin,” Moomin started, voice small. “I’m sorry for the things I said.”

“Moomintroll-”

“I know I shouldn’t have asked, it’s none of my business,” Moomin cut him off, the apology pouring out in a long string of words. “I was just curious and I felt left out, and I… I just…” he dropped his tail and slumped over. “I don’t want you to leave because of me.”

They became quiet, the apology hanging in the air between them, waiting in anxious anticipation to either be rejected or accepted. 

However, it was left unanswered. “Do you want to hear a song?” Snufkin asked, fingers tapping against the log he was sitting on, being the only indication of any nerves. Yet, his friend didn’t know of these subtle clues.

“What? Wait, you don’t have to-” Moomin finally looked up, his expression twisted into confused shock.

“No, but I want to.”

“Snufkin-”

“Moomintroll,” said Snufkin with a teasing smile, while pulling out the guitar.

That smile had always been rather infectious, so when Moomin felt the tug at the corners of his mouth, he closed his eyes and sighed. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

Strumming over the strings once, Snufkin answered in that same lighthearted tone. “If that is to play you a song, then you are correct.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Moomin muttered in a low breath, mostly just to himself, wiping a paw over his face. “I just pressured you into it.” 

“Now, you know me well enough to know that is not the case. I only do what I want to,” Snufkin said earnestly, busying his hands making small adjustments to the tuning pegs. Despite looking confident, his voice started to lose some of that same gusto. “And it just so happens that I want to play you this song now.” He strummed the strings again, as if ready to break into song immediately, but then he hesitated, one hand curling around neck, the other holding the body close. “There’s a reason I didn’t play for you…”

This had Moomin’s curiosity piqued, but he remained quiet, knowing silent patience often was the key to get Snufkin talking. 

Snufkin snorted, a private smile forming on his lips, eyes cast down. “It’s silly, really. I became very self-conscious.”

“Why?” The word slipped out unintentionally, but Moomin had never been great at holding his tongue.

“Because…” His fingers danced over the strings again, grip loosening on the guitar. “I want it to be just right.”

Moomin didn’t think this made much sense. “You are being too harsh on yourself. Your music is great! I don’t think I’ve heard you play anything I didn’t like.”

The smile on Snufkin’s lips became a little fonder. “Perhaps.” He kept plucking at the strings, the soft sounds sounding lovely, despite not being a melody yet. “But this song I’ve been working on…” A vague blush spread on his cheeks, eyes very deliberately cast down still. “I made it for you.”

This left the young troll quite speechless and a similar tint coloured his cheeks. Snufkin had made many songs, often about his travels or nature or simply just a feeling. Never had he made a song specifically for Moomin. “You made a song for me?” Moomin breathed, eyes wide.

“Yes,” admitted Snufkin, cheeks turning redder. “It could still use some work, but… do you want to hear it?”

Moomin grinned widely, hardly believing what he was hearing. “Yes! Of course, I would love to hear,” he said excitedly. He felt so elated, he could practically burst! However, now was not the time, this was a tender moment, so Moomin regained some of his composure and gazed fondly at Snufkin, eyes shimmering. “Thank you.”

Finally, Snufkin looked up to meet his eyes, looking equally excited, nervous and fond. 

And so, Snufkin played a song for his very best friend. 

———————————————

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

[eloves-writes]

so it goes… part 2

[coriolanus snow x reader]

desc: part 1 here! after an unexpected sexual encounter with your rival coriolanus snow in gaul’s laboratory, you’re anxious to see him again the next day until gaul instructs him to escort you home and you’re suddenly alone with him again.

warnings: smut, oral sex (m receiving), reader is referred to as female, p in v sex, slapping, dom coryo/sub reader undertones, coryo is his own warning tbh

a/n: thank you so much to everybody who asked for a part 2!! appreciate every single comment & reblog honestly tysm!! and sorry i took so long to write this lol. it’s not been proofread yet. anyways, enjoy, requests are open as always, mwah mwah mwah ily

this work contains mature themes, minors dni

you got through the next day on pure anticipation; your thoughts had been occupied by the thought of coriolanus snow and very little else since your encounter in dr gaul’s office yesterday. it occurred to you, as you carried a stack of paperwork from the front desk to gaul’s lab, that this wasn’t much different from usual. yes, you may have claimed to despise coriolanus, but you were always thinking of him each and every day that passed- it seemed to be that you had been in love with him for a long time, and in denial for just as long. the day felt like an eternity, waiting and waiting and fulfilling now meaningless tasks whilst you waited some more for the end of the day to come.

eventually it came, and now you only had to wait for coriolanus to arrive. apparently he was feeling less punctual than usual.

“y/n, is there a reason you are still here?” dr gaul asked, not annoyed but somewhat displeased.

because i’m waiting for your other student to arrive so he can fuck me behind your bookshelf again. couldn’t exactly say that, could you?

“oh, i have a lot on my mind. sorry, dr gaul. is there anything else that i can do whilst im still here?”

she narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but before she could question you further the door opened and you immediately turned your head to see who it was. it was only a citadel worker bringing some papers from the main office. gaul looked at you with even more suspicion.

“you wouldn’t be waiting for mr snow, would you y/n? i was under the firm impression that you didn’t care for him much.”

“no!” you responded a little too fast. “i mean, no. i’m not waiting for coriolanus. and i wouldn’t say that i don’t care for him,” the words were coming out and you couldn’t stop them, gaul looking at you like you were more fascinating than her experiments. “well, i don’t love him. obviously, i mean i don’t love him like that i don’t even know him i just mean that i haven’t always necessarily liked him that much. i don’t not care for him. he’s actually quite nice. just annoying. oh my god wait i didn’t mea-”

like your saving grace, coriolanus finally entered the lab, the slamming door stopping your self-destructive tangent. a few more seconds and you probably would’ve been begging gaul to check yesterday’s security footage.

coryo barely acknowledged your presence as he walked the length of the lab and greeted the gamemaker. he began to speak with her, sitting in the open seat next to you. you tried to catch his eye. he remained indifferent to you.

after many minutes of conversation, you were growing annoyed at the blond boy beside you. why was he ignoring you? he still hadn’t so much as glanced in your direction since entering the lab. did he regret fucking you yesterday? did you seem desperate, hanging around after hours hoping to get lucky with him again? suddenly embarrassed to still be there, you shifted uncomfortably in your seat and considered the best way to excuse yourself without embarrassing yourself further.

gaul looked at you like she had completely forgotten you were there.

“y/n, what are you still doing here?”

you smiled awkwardly. “my apologies. i guess i just got lost in thought. perhaps i need more sleep tonight, i had better head home.”

smooth, you thought to yourself. you stood up and turned to leave when coriolanus said your name and everything felt as if it stopped for a moment.

“y/n,” he began in his self-righteous tone. “allow me to escort you out.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “i think i can find the door myself, coriolanus, thank you.”

he stared at you with an intensity that both made your blood run cold and your core burn.

“i insist. i wouldn’t want you to think of me as anything less than a gentleman.”

it took complete restraint not to roll your eyes and laugh at that. after how he held you down and devoured you yesterday?

dr gaul was watching your exchange with great interest. it was more than obvious to her that her two favourite students wanted to rip each others clothes off, and who was she to stand in the way of those animalistic urges?

“actually, mr snow, i have no need for you this evening. y/n has done her job wonderfully, there is very little left to do,” she turned to look at you, “allow mr snow to walk you home. it’s getting dark.”

you and coriolanus exchanged a look, and headed for the door. as you wandered down the first of many winding corridors on the way out of the citadel, you tried to think of anything to say.

“i can call a car, snow. you don’t have to walk me home.”

“ok. there’s a phone in that office, how about you call now?” he spoke evenly. something about the way he said it seemed suspicious, but as you peered into the empty office he had gestured to, there was sure enough a telephone sitting on its desk. he held out his arm for you to enter the room first, closing the door behind the both of you. you sat at the desk and picked up the phone, punching in the number for the car company your parents had instructed you to use should you ever need to. as you picked up the receiver and began the call, you were completely aware of corio watching you as if transfixed. there was an uneasy feeling of tension in the air, and you could tell that he was revelling in it as he stood, watching you, folding the cuffs of his dress shirt with an air of nonchalance.

you hung up the phone. “they said it’ll be 10, 15 minutes.”

“good.”

“good?” you questioned. corio flicked the lock shut on the office door and slowly walked closer to the desk where you sat.

“yes. push your chair backwards,” he instructed. you obeyed without meaning to, and he slid in front of you, perching himself on the edge of the desk in front of you, legs either side of your chair. you couldn’t help but look down at his clothed crotch; it was inches away from your face, and you were overwhelmed with the urge to take him in your mouth.

coriolanus lifted your chin with his hand, forcing you to make eye contact with him. the overhead light was perfectly aligned with his head, highlighting his blond locks like a halo. it made him look godly. powerful. he was staring down at you like you were completely at his mercy, and you were. he knew what he wanted, and he was going to get it.

“i believe you owe me one, as it were,” he almost whispered, a rough edge to his voice. the sight of you, so obedient and beautiful and patient, was creating a tent in his pants before you even touched him. he unzipped his trousers and pushed them down his thighs along with his underwear, letting his cock sit pretty against his stomach. he held out his hand to you, palm up.

“spit.” he ordered.

you gave him your best doe-eyes and spat on his hand. he used it to stroke himself a few times as you watched, wetness beginning to pool between your legs. he removed his hand from his length.

“suck.” he ordered again. you lowered your face until his cock was at your lips, and slowly sunk your mouth onto him.

he let out a throaty moan. you began to bob your head up and down, and coriolanus moaned again. the sounds escaping his mouth were making you clench your poor, empty pussy around nothing, and you were sure you had leaked arousal onto the cushion of the desk chair through your panties by just sucking him off. you continued your movements, pressing your thighs together in desperation.

“okay there, baby?” corio asked breathlessly.

you took your mouth off of him to answer and he whimpered at the loss of contact. “i want you inside of me, coriolanus.”

“say please,” he smirked, jerking himself off again in the absence of your mouth.

you did as you were told: “please.”

corio stood up and pushed your chair further backwards.

“get up and bend over.”

once again, you did as he said. you’d forgotten to care about how desperate it made you look, the thought of pleasure at coriolanus’ hands overriding any other thoughts.

the blond pushed your skirt up over your ass and removed your soaked panties, leaving you exposed to him. his hand firmly guided your legs apart and slid into your folds, gathering your slick. you felt him remove his fingers and seconds later heard the ‘pop’ of him taking them out of his mouth.

he grabbed your hair into a ponytail and used it to pull your back into his chest so he could whisper in your ear. “you taste even better than yesterday.”

you felt your cheeks flush before he shoved your upper body back onto the desk, holding your hips to stop you from moving as he roughly pushed his cock into you without warning. you moaned loudly at the sudden feeling, turning the moan into a string of whimpers at corio’s harsh pace. the small office was filled with the lewd sounds of his balls slapping your ass and the wetness of your pussy underneath the both of you moaning. god help you if anyone walked past the door.

after several minutes of brutal thrusts, corio slowed himself to focus on how deep he was pushing into you. if it had felt good before, this was ridiculous. his dick was hitting your g-spot like it was made to be inside of you, a powerful orgasm quickly built in your core. you could tell he was getting close too, as his moans became deeper and his thrusts even more intentional.

“corio,” you tried to get out, but your orgasm washed over you before you could even tell him you were cumming. your walls tightened as you rode out the wave of pleasure, sending corio over the edge with you. he made no effort to pull out as he finished, letting his cum fill your hole and pushing it further in with each lazy ending stroke. when he finally did pull out, you hated how empty you felt. you wanted him again. the power he had over you was indisputable, and had you been told a week ago that coriolanus snow was going to have you weak in the knees in more ways than one you would have laughed until you cried. now, you watched as he stepped back into his pants after fucking you raw and leaving his cum to drip down your thighs until you got home.

you stood sheepishly as you waited for him to unlock the door and walk you out to the car that was certainly waiting for you by now. what were you supposed to say after that? he’d fucked you so good that you almost wanted to tell him you loved him. thank him? feed his ego? god knows he didn’t need that.

“okay?” he asked, brushing a hair off your face.

“yeah,” you replied bluntly.

he smirked. “fucked the words out of you, huh?”

you huffed defensively. “no.”

he lifted your chin once again so you were looking up at him. you instinctively leaned into his hand.

“such a good girl for me,” he murmured before experimentally slapping your cheek. it wasn’t that hard, just enough to leave a little sting. it scared you to admit that it turned you on. coriolanus smirked again and unlocked the office door without another word, guiding you out with a hand on your back.

he walked you through the citadel, practically parading you, his hand placement a show to anyone who saw you that you were his, and only he could touch you from then on.

as you left the building, you spotted the car waiting for you. it was just past sunset, the capitol in a rare quiet lull post rush hour. lucky for you, as coriolanus slapped your ass in place of a ‘goodbye’ and you were glad nobody else was near enough to see. you got into the car, and could hardly imagine how you’d ended up here like this.

----------------------------------------------

tags: @iloveboysbagsandpink @horizonsunsets @urmomialove999 @casualhedonists

[poopwons]

**Break My Heart**-Ft. Jean Kirstein 18+ MDNI!!

Synopsis: You and Jean break up, he doesn't know what to do with himself. Maybe you'll call him? (surprise, you will)

Content: (NSFW), F!Reader, Jean’s POV, post break up feelings, angst, cursing, depressed Jean, pet names, handjobs, fingering, praise kink, Jean has a teensy bit of a size kink, collaring (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people), cream pie, hair pulling, light alcohol consumption

a/n: I have never written anything this long before, but I got the idea in my head and it would not get out so, here it is. I was literally driving home from work listening to Olivia Rodrigo and Happier came on, so that's what inspired this 🥰 Huge shoutouts to @jeanboyjean and @cowgirlikets for encouraging me through this entire process!💜💜💜 ***also I know absolutely nothing about plumbing, so sorry if all of that is completely inaccurate LOL***

words: 6.9k

Two months, four days.

That’s how long it’s been. That’s the last time Jean saw you in person, talked to you at all. Sure, he’s wanted to reach out, he’s gotten drunk a few times and Connie had to wrench his phone out of his hands when he saw your name on the screen. Jean had yelled at him, tried to push him off, but Connie ended up with the phone, locking it away before helping Jean to bed. All in all Connie was looking out for him more than anyone else. That’s what good roommates are for, right?

Though, Jean is sure that Connie never expected to ever see his friend like this. Hell, Jean never thought he’d be this way; he never even thought of the possibility of the two of you splitting at all. The first week after you told him you didn’t want to keep seeing him, he stayed in bed, blaring awful sad songs, just wallowing in his own self pity. He supposes he still is, even months later.

The days without you have slowed to a crawl. He still thinks about you all the time, it takes all his will power not to scroll through your instagram, wondering if you’re thriving without him, or if you’re just as fucked up as he is. He doesn’t want to know, he’s not that desperate yet. Still, thoughts of you plagued him every moment it seemed like. Who does he make breakfast for now? Making a single serving for himself just seems.. pathetic, pointless, in comparison to making something for you.

The two of you had a great routine, his favorite, he thinks. You’d wake up, curled in his arms, peppering little kisses to his face, trying to wake him up. He’d groan at you before running his hands to your sides to tickle you, calling you a menace for disturbing a man’s sleep. The little giggles he’d pull from you were his favorite sound, he’d never heard anything better. Then he’d get up, make coffee and breakfast for the two of you while you showered. Sometimes he’d say fuck the breakfast and shower with you instead. Hot water cascading down the two of you, the smell of your shampoo in his nose as he kissed the back of your neck while washing your hair. Fuck. He needs to stop. Think about anything else, he curses himself, his brain can’t keep doing this to him, can it?

But, turns out, it can. Who makes your tea the way you like it, muddled with honey and a splash of cream? Who else knows that you only want earl grey when it’s raining because that’s what your mom would give you when you came inside from splashing around in puddles when you were little? That you want chamomile when you’re sick, and coffee most mornings, unless you’re anxious, then you want English breakfast. Who knows the way you order your meals from your favorite restaurants? That you don’t like water chestnuts because “they’re too crunchy without enough flavor”, or that you hate fast food lettuce but will completely devour the caesar salad from the diner downtown because you say the lettuce is always “the perfect amount of crisp and never soggy”? What does he do with all this little information that he’s learned about you, that’s now completely useless to him since you’re not here?

Connie managed to drag Jean out to go have lunch with him and Sasha the next day. It’s the first time he’s been out in weeks for something other than work. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, the most he can manage with how exhausted he’s been. The little chain that you picked out for him draped across his collarbones. He likes that memory. You dragged him into a jewelry store, showing him the necklace, saying something about how you thought it’d look good on him. He was never much of a jewelry person, but for you? He agreed, but only if you’d get a matching bracelet, and you did. You said it was your favorite, you loved it so much, and it went on like that, the two of you, in your matching pieces, wearing them everyday…

“Jean,” Connie breaks him out of his thoughts, he wonders if he could tell that he was thinking about you again.

“What,” his tone is flat, nothing like his usual light hearted one.

“Dude, don’t you think you should take that off?”

Jean looks down at his chain, then back at Connie, a frown plastered on his face.

“No, I don’t want to take it off.”

“Look, man, I know you’re still upset, but.. doesn’t that make it worse?”

Jean can’t stand the look of pity he’s getting, he shrugs and doesn’t reply. Take it off? And then what, get rid of it? No. No, he can’t get rid of it, you got it for him. It would be like throwing you away.. and he’s just not ready to do that, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be.

Sasha kicks Connie under the table, the two of them had clearly talked about how to handle today and it seems like Connie is going off script. Jean can’t take it anymore, he can’t stand the way his friends are looking at him, he wants to look anywhere else. So, he does what he’s been trying to avoid. He pulls out his phone, opening up your instagram. You haven’t posted in a while, but there is one new picture. Jean’s heart lurches into his throat when he sees it. Who is that? Why is he with you? He’s never seen this guy before and he doesn’t like it, right down to his stupid green eyes, that idiotic man bun, and that shit-eating smile plastered on his face, like he’s mocking Jean without even trying. The picture is innocent enough, a selfie with his arm around you. But why is he touching you? Why are you letting him? Did you really move on this fast? Did you forget about Jean already? Is this the real reason you ended things with him, for this other guy?

He hears a faint grunt from across the table, then Sasha is talking to him, he hardly hears it, the blood is rushing in his ears. Connie snatches his phone from his hand, Jean can’t even find the energy to snap at him. Connie groans when he sees the screen.

“Shit, man… I was hoping you wouldn’t see that.” Connie practically winces when he meets Jean’s eyes, tears welling up in them. His voice breaks when he finally speaks up.

“Who is that with her?” He sounds like the world has been ripped from him.

Sasha speaks up from her side of the table, having seen the post as well. “I don’t know.. maybe they’re just friends. Don’t overthink it, it’ll be okay.”

He sends a pitiful look her way, it most definitely would not be okay. He takes his phone back from Connie, rising from the table, hell bent on getting back home. His brain is going a mile a minute thinking about you and.. whoever that was.

Two months, fifteen days.

He stays in his room all week. Barely leaving, laid up in bed scrolling through your entire instagram. All the pictures of you and him are gone. He can’t believe you got rid of them, did you delete them off your phone entirely? Were all those pictures slowly being replaced by new ones with this guy? He hates the thought of this stranger taking up camera space that should be his. He knows he shouldn’t.. looking through this idiot’s instagram isn’t going to make him feel any better, but he has to know why you chose him instead.

He swipes through this guy’s pictures, he’s even got a stupid name. Who spells their kids' name Eren? There aren’t a ton of posts, but the few that Jean does see has him rolling his eyes, gym selfies and photos of him playing a guitar, his long hair flowing down his shoulders. Great, so he’s ripped and talented. Jean’s not out of shape by any means, but he isn’t as cut as that, especially since he’s been skipping the gym the past couple of months, unable to find the energy to go, and he definitely can’t play any instruments. Maybe he should learn, would that impress you enough to finally reach out to him? No, that would take way too long, he wants to hear from you so much sooner than that. Maybe he can start growing his hair out.. would you like that? You never complained about his hair before but, this whole thing has thrown him for a loop. He’s questioning everything about himself wondering what Eren has that he doesn’t. Maybe Eren’s better in bed? No, that can’t be it. You never once complained about Jean’s performance, all those pretty sounds you made when he touched and kissed and sucked at all the right spots. No, he definitely knew what he was doing in that department. So, that can’t be it, which almost makes it worse. That must mean Jean failed you in some other way as a partner. Was he not attentive enough, not supportive enough? Did he not make enough time for you? Maybe he should have tried to plan more dates. The thoughts go on and on like this until he finally falls into a fitful sleep, what little dreams he has are plagued with you laughing at Eren’s stupid jokes, of you being happier with Eren than you ever were with him.

Jean is sitting up on the sofa in the living room, Connie had begged him to at least come out of his room so he knows the poor guy’s still alive. Jean is scrolling through yours and Eren’s pages, checking yet again for any more posts.

“Dude, seriously? Are you looking at that guy’s page again?” Connie asks, as he sits down on the couch with a bowl of cereal.

Jean gives him a noncommittal grunt, before shoving his phone in Connie’s face. “I mean, what does she even see in him? He’s not that good looking and he has stupid hair. He probably can’t even play that guitar.” 

Connie gives him a sympathetic look, he knows it can’t be easy for Jean to see you with someone else, but it’s been almost three months since you two split. All the same, he’s Jean’s friend, he can’t always tell him what he wants to hear, right? He sets his bowl down with a sigh, bracing himself for what he’s about to say.

“Come on, man. He looks like a decent enough guy. I know this is hard for you, but don’t you want her to be happy?”

“She’s supposed to be happy with me! Me, not this fucker with a guitar, who’s side are you on, anyway?”

“I’m on your side, you know that, but this is nuts, she’s just a chick. You’ve been hung up for almost three months. You need to get back to the shit you used to do. When was the last time you even went to the gym? That used to be so important to you. You should go back, get some endorphins going, that would make you feel better.”

Jean huffs, Connie just doesn’t get it. He gets up off the couch and walks over to the entryway, pushing his shoes on. “She’s not just some chick, dude.” He spits the words out before walking out the door. Maybe a walk would clear his head. He knew in some regards, Connie was right, he hasn’t been taking the best care of himself lately, but his “just a chick” comment has Jean seeing red and he can’t focus on any of the other rational things Connie’s said.

He walks and walks until it gets dark outside, when he finally gets home he scarfs down a protein bar and flops down in bed. Closing his eyes and drifting off relatively quickly, worn out from the walk, maybe he should go back to the gym, he thinks, if a walk has worn him out so much. He doesn’t know how long he sleeps for, but the buzzing from his night table lulls him out of sleep. Bleary eyed and groggy, he picks up the phone staring at the screen. He must be seeing things. Or he’s still asleep and this is a dream. He sits up abruptly, rubbing his eyes, looking at the screen again. Sure enough, it’s your name that’s up on the screen, the phone is still buzzing in his hand as he stares at the caller id. It finally hits him that if he doesn’t answer it’ll go to voicemail and you might not call back. He fumbles to swipe his finger over the answer key, almost dropping his phone in the process.

“Hello?” Jean tries to make his voice sound calm and not rushed, despite the fact that his heart is practically beating out of his chest over something as simple as a phone call, at the prospect of actually hearing your voice for the first time in months.

“Hey, uh, it’s me. Well, duh, you probably know that.” Your voice sounds just as angelic as he remembers and part of him thinks he might cry right on the spot. “um, listen, I didn’t know who else to call, I-I know it’s late.”

“No, no, I’m uh, I’m awake. Wha-what’s up?” He hates how nervous he sounds, but he can’t help it, even his hands are shaking. 

“Can you come over? There’s like, a leak in my apartment, and the office is closed, I just don’t want to lose my deposit. I’m sure they’ll find some way to blame it on me and not their shitty plumbing. I mean.. Obviously, if you’re busy, it’s okay, I can figure something else out.”

So, you’re calling him to come help you, not Eren, interesting. Jean feels over the moon, maybe Eren isn’t all he’s cracked up to be after all. 

“No, I’m not busy, it’s fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Just try to soak up all the water you can.” Jean says as he scrambles off his bed, going to the bathroom to check his hair in the mirror, smoothing some parts that got ruffled in his sleep. He looks at his shirt, cursing silently that he’s still wearing this sweaty t-shirt. He puts you on speaker and quickly pulls the fabric off, throwing it in the hamper.

“Thank you so much, you’re really doing me a huge favor.”

He pulls a fresh shirt over his head, the shirt getting caught in his frantic movements causing him to have to talk louder than normal, so you can hear him over the muffle of the fabric, “yeah, it’s no problem, I’ll be there soon.” He’d do you a million favors if it meant he got to see you. You hang up and he slips on his shoes, rushing out the door to get to your place with his tools.

Jean’s heart is hammering out of his chest the whole drive to your place, it feels like his body is vibrating with anxiety. He’s practically white knuckling his steering wheel, his brain just going and going. He finally gets to see you, he’ll get to see you. He hopes you’re wearing his favorite pair of sweats. He always thought you looked so cute in them, so comfy and cozy. Excitement is starting to bubble in, until he thinks, oh, god. What if he’s there? What if Jean has to see you and Eren together in person, in a situation where he can’t just walk away. Oh, fuck, why didn’t he think about this before? He was just so excited to hear your voice, to see you, that he wasn’t thinking. If he has to see this idiot touch you right in front of him he thinks he might punch him. That would not look good on him, you’d probably even get mad at him, that’s the last thing he needs. He pulls up to your apartment before he knows it, punching in the gate code that he still has memorized, begging and praying to whatever good karma he’s drummed up in the universe, that Eren fucking Jaegar is not in your apartment with you.

He knocks on your door, fussing with his hair a little as he bounces on the balls of his feet, unsure what to do with all this nervous energy. When he hears the lock disengage he pulls his hand away from his hair as fast as he can, trying to look as casual as possible, like he hasn’t thought about you every second of every day for the past three months.

“H-hi,” you answer the door, obviously feeling a little uncomfortable with this whole situation yourself, but he doesn’t know if it’s the same kind of nerves he’s having or something else. But fuck, you look so pretty, so so pretty, with your hair draped over your shoulders in loose waves, the way you always wore it before, wearing a crew neck and some shorts. 

“He-” Jean’s voice cracks, it fucking cracks. Seriously? What, is he sixteen again? He clears his throat and starts again, “Hey,” 

You let him in, and he gets enveloped in your smell, he practically sighs as he breathes in the familiar comfortable scent of you and your things. He didn’t know you could miss a person’s smell this much. He looks around expecting to see the place how he remembers, but he’s thrown off when everything looks different. You’ve rearranged all your furniture. Thankfully, though, you’re the only one here, there’s no sign of another guy having been here at all. He lets out a little sigh of relief, following you into the kitchen where sopping towels are littering the floor. 

“I just came home from work and found it like this. I don't know what happened.” you say, waving your arm to the floor.

“Well, let’s just see. I’m sure it’s just a loose rivet or something,” Jean walks past you, trying his best not to let your proximity as he does get to him, fighting the urge to just take you in his arms and not let go. That’s not why he’s here, you didn’t call him for that. He’s thankful that you called him for an actual task, something for him to focus on so he’s not just staring at you, he’s afraid if he stares too long he’ll snap.

You stand in the kitchen with him while he patches everything up, it’s an easy fix, just like he thought. A baby with a wrench could fix this, so again, his mind drifts back to why you called him and not Eren, not that he’s complaining. He thinks it all feels very domestic, you watching him fix up things around the house. He’d fix everything you asked him too if he could hold onto this feeling. He’s surprised when you crouch down next to him, trying to see what he’s doing.

“It was loose, right here, I’m just tightening it up.” He smiles as he looks at you briefly, he can’t help it, you just look so pretty and you’re right next to him, right where you belong. 

You smile back at him and he feels his heart lurch again, turning the wrench a little more, satisfied with his work, he catches your eye, “and that should do it, you should be all set now.” 

He stands up, wiping his hands on his pants before offering you a hand up. When you take his hand he bites back a smile at the feel of your hand in his again after so much time, even if it is a harmless interaction. Standing up with him, you don’t pull your hand away right away, lingering there for just a second too long. Did he imagine that? No, no you definitely lingered. 

You brush a strand of hair behind your ear and smile at him sheepishly. “Thanks again, I really appreciate it.” God, your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“It’s not a problem, I don’t mind helping you.” Jean runs a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck, looking away from you, still nervous. He knows the whole reason he came is taken care of now, and he doesn’t want to leave, but he thinks that’s what you might want. 

“So, I should–”

“Do you want–”

You both speak at once, sharing a nervous chuckle. Jean lets you go first, giving you a look that says so.

“Do you, um.. Want a drink?” You look nervous, awkward. Surely he’s imagining it, he doesn't want to get his hopes up too high. “It’s the least I could do, calling you over here on a Friday night. I’m sure you had better things to do.” You give him another shy smile and he swears he could melt into a puddle right there.

“Uh, sure. Y-yeah, a drink sounds good.” 

“All I have are those hard seltzers I usually get, that okay?” you ask like you expect him to remember, and he does. He wants you to know how much he remembers about you; everything, he remembers everything. 

So, just drinks for yourself? No beer, no liquor, nothing he thinks a guy like Eren might drink. Interesting. So far, everything he’s observed has led him to the conclusion that maybe you and Eren aren’t together. Maybe Sasha was right, and the two of you are just friends?

“That’s fine,” He bends down, putting his wrench away, placing his tool bag on your counter. Turning back to look at you, the slim can in your hand as you hold it out to him. He takes it, following you over to the couch where you both take a seat next to each other. 

His body feels like it’s vibrating, sitting this close to you. You didn’t have to sit this close, but you did. He pops the tab, taking a drink to calm his nerves, and you do the same. 

“So, how have you been? It’s been a while.” You speak so softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear again, a nervous habit. Are you feeling the same tension he is? Is he making it all up because he missed you so much?

“Uh, good, good.” He lies, what is he supposed to say? That he’s been completely miserable without you? No, if he’s wrong and you have moved on, he has to at least pretend he’s been doing alright. “Work is, well, work, you know. Haven’t been doing much else. What about you?”

“Y-yeah, no, things are, um, they’re okay. I finally got promoted at work.” you smile at him again, before taking another sip. “I’m officially management.”

Pride swells in his chest, he knows how badly you wanted to move up in your job, how much you craved more responsibility. He’s glad your place of work is finally acknowledging your potential.

“Hey, that’s great. I’m really happy for you,” and he is, genuinely. “Is it everything you wanted it to be?”

You give a little snort, “I mean, I guess. Workplace drama is a lot more stressful when you’re actually the one in charge of trying to defuse it, instead of just listening to all the gossip.” 

“Well, I’m sure you’re handling it fine, you were always good at that kind of stuff.” 

You huff a little laugh again, thanking him before pulling the sleeves of your crew neck up while adjusting your position on the couch. That’s when he sees it, that little glimmer of silver on your wrist. His heart pounds harder as he sees it. You’re still wearing your bracelet. You still have it. 

“You’re still wearing that,” Jean points out, his voice coming out little more than a whisper, like he just can’t believe it, his eyes locked on the bracelet.

A blush blooms across your cheeks and Jean is positive it’s not just the alcohol. Fuck not getting his hopes up, you wouldn’t still be wearing something he got you if you didn’t miss him a little bit. 

“Oh, yeah..” you fiddle with the bracelet with your free hand, “I um.. I feel a little naked without it, you know?” you cheeks are still flushed as you look up at him. 

Jean just smiles at you, “yeah, I know what you mean.” he says as he pulls the chain out from under his shirt. “I got so used to wearing it everyday, it just doesn’t feel right with it off.” It’s not even a lie, just, not a full truth. His nerves are slowly fading away, getting replaced with renewed hope.

“Well, it does still look good on you,” you reach your hand up to run your fingers along the chain, Jean feels a jolt of electricity in your touch that practically lights his skin on fire, and that’s when he really knows. There’s no way you’d be touching him like this if you didn’t miss him, if you were seeing someone else. He’s never felt so much relief in his life. “Suits you, for sure.” 

He takes his hand placing it over yours, goosebumps prickling his skin where your fingers dance along the chain. “You..um, you have good taste,” he says, his breath turning a little shallow, he knows he’s not imagining all the tension that’s been slowly building up since he got here. “I never would have picked anything like this for myself.”

Your hand is so small in his, he’s always been bigger than you, taller, more muscular. He didn't realize how much he missed it until now, he was so caught up with missing all the other parts of you that this bit seemed to have slipped his mind. You’re looking at him with your pretty doe eyes, letting him hold your hand, he can practically see the hearts in your eyes, looking at him like you used to. Fuck it, he’s going for it. Drinks completely forgotten on the coffee table as he scoots a little closer to you, just enough so that your knees are touching.

“I’ve really missed you.” He whispers, leaning in just a little closer, he hears your breath hitch in your throat, your eyes flitting to his lips. 

He smiles as you lean in too. You want it just as much as he does. “Me too..”

When he finally presses his lips to yours he almost explodes with happiness, he’s feeling giddy, all these pent up feelings pouring out into your lips. He cups the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, a silent request for permission. He sighs as you grant it, opening your mouth for him so he can glide his tongue along yours, and you moan into his mouth. You fucking moan. He loses any semblance of control he had. His hands move, roaming over your back and the two of you lose yourselves in the moment. Without really thinking about it he pulls you onto his lap, moving his mouth to press hot kisses to your neck, nipping the sensitive skin. It always was one of your favorite spots. His hands run under your sweatshirt, caressing your back, savoring the feel of your soft skin under his palms.

“Missed you so fucking much.” Jean breathes out between kisses, groaning as you grind your hips onto his lap when he kisses your neck again.

“Missed you too. Thought…Thought about you all the time…” Your words are broken up by little gasps. Jean thinks he could die happy, just like this, but then your hands go to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off, running your hands over the contours of his chest and he feels like he’s going to burn out of his skin.

His hands follow suit with yours, pulling your sweatshirt off, discarding it on the floor next to his, drinking in the sight of you, sighing when he sees your bare chest. Running his hands over your tits, kissing his way down your neck and your collarbone before taking one of your nipples into his mouth and starts kissing and sucking, pinching at the other one with his free hand. You arch your back into his touch and he moves his hands back around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He just needs you closer, so much closer.

You just grind against him, he can feel the heat coming off of you, listening to your breath get more and more ragged as you wrap your arms around his neck in order to get closer, pulling his head up. 

“I’m sorry. Jean, I’m so sorry.. I never should have–” your voice sounds broken, despite the desire and need coursing through the both of you. It breaks his heart to hear you sounding so sad. You don’t even have to explain what you’re apologizing for, he already knows. 

Jean cuts you off with a kiss, running his fingers through your hair, shushing you softly. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He soothes, pressing soft kisses between his words. “Later. We’ll talk about it later, yeah?” He pulls back, pressing his forehead to yours, looking in your eyes with all the love he has for you. 

You give him a feeble little nod, kissing him passionately. Your tongues glide together as you taste each other, making up for lost time, and god, does he want to make up for it. With that in mind, his hands move to the plush of your ass, squeezing as you keep your lips on him. As much as he doesn’t want to push you away from him, he needs to touch you. He runs his hands over your bare thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, pushing you back just enough so he can get the leverage he needs. Tugging them off, you lift your hips to help him. He looks down and sees you clad in lace, one of his favorite pairs. A brief look of surprise as his brain sorts through it. You… you planned for this, at least to some degree. All doubts completely leave his head as a satisfied grin curls on his lips. 

“You wear these just for me, baby?” He murmurs into your ear as he nips at your earlobe, fingers already dancing along the sides of your panties. 

You give him another nod and a breathy little sound that he assumes, if you were able to form the words, would be a confirmation. He pushes the material aside, running a finger through your folds. Shit, you're so fucking wet for him. He’s going to lose his mind. His finger swirls around your clit, eliciting moans and gasps from you. You’re already starting to squirm for him and he doesn’t let up, still swirling little circles with the pad of his finger. 

“J-Jean,” you moan out his name and cling to him, holding his head tightly to your chest. 

“‘M right here, baby, I got you. You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” 

“Y-yes, yes, yes, fuck!” He feels your legs shaking on him, still moving his hand. God, he missed seeing you like this. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl, did so well for me. ” He purrs into your skin, pressing kisses to your neck, giving you a second to catch your breath.

Turns out you don’t even want a breather, your hands moving desperately to his lap, frantically trying to undo his buttons, slipping your hand in and wrapping around his cock. 

“Fuck,” Jean groans under his breath, lifting his hips with you still on his lap, so he can shove his pants down enough for you pull him all the way out.

Your hand pumps him, smearing the precum over his flushed tip, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. You keep working him, your hands are always so soft, twisting your wrist a bit on the way up, squeezing the tip just a little. He loves the way he looks in your hands, your smaller ones making him look even bigger. His eyes catch a little glimmer, and he groans again when he sees you jerking him with your bracelet bouncing on your wrist with your movements. All he can think about is that you’re his, you're his, you're his. That one little accessory tells the whole world. Maybe he’ll replace it with a ring. He leans forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking a shaky breath.

“Shit, you’re makin’ me feel so good, but I don’t… fuck, I don’t want to cum like this.” He pulls back to look in your eyes, seeing nothing but how good you want to make him feel and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 

He pulls your panties to the side again, lifting you up, lining himself up with your entrance and pulls you down onto him. Jean thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. He has never felt anything better than you wrapped around him like this. You both let out audible moans, as you adjust to him. Without any warning, you start bouncing on him. His eyes roll back as he drops his head to the back of the couch. Your bounces are slow, deliberate, he’s sure he’s in heaven.

“You feel so good. Love how full you make me feel.” You murmur, breathy, into his ear, bracing yourself on his shoulders. 

As much as he’d love to just sit here and bask in you riding him, he’s going to cum way too soon if he lets you keep going like this, especially if you keep using that mouth of yours to whisper everything he’s been wanting to hear for the past three months in his ear. He moves his hands back to your ass, grabbing handfuls of you, doing the work for you for another second or two before he wraps his arm around your waist he starts fucking up into you. 

“Missed my pussy so much, baby. She’s mine, yeah? That’s what this means doesn’t it?” He growls, taking your wrist, adorned with your bracelet, showing it to you. “That’s why you never took it off? Been mine this whole time haven’t you?”

Your walls squeeze him, as you hear his words, and he groans again. “All yours, Jean.. al-always yours.”

In all his desperation to get close to you, to get inside of you, he didn’t think your panties would cause a problem, but at this point they’re in his way, they won’t stay to one side. He moves his hand, gripping the flimsy garment, and pulls hard, tearing them.

“Jean!” You protest, looking down at where the two of you are connected.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” He mutters before he picks up his pace, finally able to fuck you the way he wants, slamming his hips up into you. 

You don’t seem to care so much anymore, as your eyes roll back, and you let out a cry. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, moving to bury your face in his neck. And for Jean, right now, that just won’t do, he wants to see you, wants to see your face contorted in pleasure. He brings his hand to the back of your neck, tugging your hair so you’re looking at him. 

“Look at me, baby, wanna see you.” Shit, he already feels close. Not having you for all these months, and finally getting you, getting to see in your face how good he’s making you feel and how much you missed him too. He didn’t think he was going to last long anyway. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, all tongues and teeth. 

“Ba-baby, ‘m close,” you whine, eyes glazed over, face scrunched up just the way he likes. 

“Me too, cum with me, yeah?” His hand snakes between you, finding your clit, rubbing circles on it with his thumb.

He feels you clenching around him, cunt pulsing and god he missed this feeling, missed feeling you come apart just for him. You say his name again and again like a prayer and he just can’t hold back anymore. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m shit–” He tries to warn you so you can get off of him, but you just stay put, slamming down on him again and again. He cums hard, painting your insides white. 

Still holding onto you tightly, one hand on your neck and the other around your waist, you both just stay locked in an embrace, panting. Each of your heads are resting on the others shoulders, Jean presses little kisses there while he catches his breath. 

“God, I really did miss you so much.” He whispers into your skin. “And not just this, all of it. I missed all of you.”

“I know, I missed you too. I wanted to call you or text you, or anything. I just…didn’t think you wanted to talk to me.” Your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck and he just savors the moment. 

Neither one of you moves, you just sit there holding each other. You haven’t even gotten off of him yet, his cock going soft inside you, feeling his cum leak out onto his lap, but he couldn’t care less. He just runs his fingertips up and down your back tenderly. 

“You really scared me, you know that?” Jean says when he finally feels like breaking the silence.

You lift your head, giving him a puzzled look. “What do you mean? How did I scare you?”

Jean sighs, it sounds stupid now, in hindsight, thinking that you had moved on. “I thought you were dating that Eren guy. You posted a picture with him and I kind of freaked out.”

It seems like it takes a second for his words to register, because you’re quiet for a moment before you burst into a full fit of laughter. Jean just gives you a pointed look. He doesn’t see what’s so funny about that. You’re laughing so hard you practically roll off of him, landing on your side on the couch, your legs still draped over him. He follows suit, cuddling you when he gets onto his side. 

“What’s so funny?”

You finally stop laughing long enough to answer him. “Eren? EW.” you manage to get out before you start giggling again. “He’s like a brother to me, we grew up together. I haven’t seen him before that post since he left for school. You really thought I was dating Eren??” 

Jean’s cheeks flush, a little pout forming on his face. “What was I supposed to think? He was way too close to you in that picture.”

Your laughter subsides, and you brush some hair out of his face, giving him a soft smile. “He just took me out for the day because I was so sad about you. I felt like I’d made a big mistake, and he just wanted to get my mind off of it for a little while. Besides, even if he wasn’t like a brother, he’s been in love with the same girl from middle school since he was like, twelve years old.”

You look like you have more to say but you’re hesitating. Clearly feeling a little nervous, he just nudges you gently, wanting you to continue.

You take a deep breath before going on, “I am sorry.. I shouldn’t have broken up with you, and for such a stupid reason.”

“What was the reason, exactly?” He asks, he never actually got the full story.

“I just… I liked you too much, things were going too well. I guess I kind of panicked, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop.”

Jean just stares at you, of all the reasons he thought it was, he didn’t think it was this.

“So… you broke up with me, because things were going too well?”

“It sounds stupid when you say it like that!” You bury your face into his chest, hiding your blush. “I said I was sorry.”

“What if there’s no other shoe? What if we’re just good together? Did you think about that?” He asks, no malice or hurt in his voice, just genuine curiosity. He presses a little kiss to the top of your head, trying to soothe you.

“There’s always another shoe.” You mutter, not bothering to lift your head up.

Jean sighs, taking your chin in his hand, pulling you up so that you’re eye to eye with him. “Baby, I promise, I will do everything in my power to ensure that there is no other shoe, okay? You have a problem, just talk to me. Let me be there for you, let me try and make things better. I’m not saying everything will be perfect all the time, but just know I’ll try my damndest for you.” He presses a kiss to your lips, sealing his promise. 

“Yeah.. okay,” you finally give him another smile, and he kisses you again, unable to resist. “So, can I be your girlfriend again?”

“As long as you promise not to break up with me for such a stupid reason ever again.” He smiles at you again, pressing another kiss to your forehead before pulling you back into his chest.

“Promise,” you mumble as you nuzzle into him.

Jean’s happier than he’s been in months, with you in his arms, right back where you belong.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and Reblogs are always appreciated!💖

[eiightysixbaby]

oooo okay so i have a request! i recently got high for the first time lolz and can u write like first time high w eddie but the reader was super anxious and paranoid and like just cute fluff

NEED TO RECOVER FROM THAT BC IDK HOW HE DOES IT

i am writing this as someone who has never been high so i hope it sounds realistic LMAO. i wrote this as best friend!eddie that leads into some fluffy, flirty territory???

cw: just fluff and weed smoking lol

“you don’t have to do this, you know. I’m happy to go smoke outside real quick, leave you completely out of the way of it,” eddie says, interrupting the nervous chewing of your lip you’d been doing as you stare down the joint in his hand.

your eyes meet his briefly before flicking away again, bringing a fingernail up to bite at.

“no, no I want to,” you reply, sounding more like you’re convincing yourself than him. “I’m just nervous.” you lie back on the couch with a groan. “why am I so fucking nervous?”

“it’s your first time. you don’t know what it’s gonna feel like yet. it’s normal,” he says calmly. “I promise you though, it’s gonna chill you out. I wouldn’t suggest you do this if I felt like it would be awful for you.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” you mumble into your hands that are now covering your face. “okay, I’m ready,” you decide, moving back to a sitting position.

you watch as he pulls a lighter from his back pocket, flicking it a few times before the flame appears. he holds it steady at the end of the joint, letting it ignite before he takes the first hit. it’s so natural for him, effortless, and you’re a little jealous of him in the moment. he holds it out to you, letting it rest between two fingers, his expression calm and patient as he waits for you to take it.

you reach for it, looking at it questioningly. “okay, so… how does this work?” you ask.

“well, you’re gonna inhale, and kind of hold the smoke in your mouth for a few seconds? you’ll just… feel it. and then exhale,” eddie explains, crossing one leg over the other as he leans back into the cushions behind him. “and don’t take too big of a hit. it’ll just make you cough worse.”

you nod, taking in what he’s saying. you’ve seen him smoke enough times that it isn’t foreign, but you still don’t want to make a fool of yourself.

raising the joint slowly, you let your lips wrap around it. your hand trembles slightly, wanting to look cool and natural under his stare. you feel like you barely inhale at all before you’re spluttering, coughing as tears well in your eyes.

“you’re okay,” eddie says, patting your back with a firm hand. “promise it gets better, you’re just not used to it.”

you take a few steadying breaths, the coughs subsiding. his hand remains on your back, rubbing soothingly. determined now, you take another hit, having more success this time.

you can feel warmth tingling your insides, burning your lungs in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant but isn’t yet completely pleasant either.

it’s not long before you’re slumped into the sofa, eyelids heavy as the high fully settles in. the only problem is, it seems to be having the opposite effect of what eddie had said. you fidget with your fingers in your lap, picking nervously at your nails. you haven’t spoken a word, thoughts racing in your head. the wind picks up outside, leaves rustling as rain begins hitting the roof of the trailer. you jump, breathing slightly erratic as you sit up straight.

“hey, you okay?”

eddie’s deep brown eyes look at you with concern, not used to you being skittish.

“I feel like… I don’t know. I’m super fucking in my head right now, I thought this was supposed to calm me down—”

“hey, hey,” he interjects softly, a hand reaching out to rest on your bicep. “you’re okay, alright? I’m here, it’s just me here,” he reassures, trying to get you to meet his eyes. “there’s absolutely nothing to be worried about, you’re safe with me.”

you glance over at him, brow furrowed. your knee bounces, a nervous habit.

“c’mere,” he says, motioning for you to lean into him. you oblige, curling against his side like a scared puppy. his arm wraps around you, fingers rubbing soft patterns into your skin. “what can I do to make this more comfortable for you?” he asks, feeling terrible for getting you high in the first place; whether you’d wanted to or not.

“can we just stay like this?” you murmur, letting your fingers toy with the fabric of his shirt. “you’re so comfy,” you sigh, feeling your heart rate stabilize as you begin to relax.

“yeah, sweetheart,” he hums. “whatever you want.”

he continues to take periodic hits from the joint, and you watch in silent awe as the smoke leaves his lips in quiet exhales, trailing up to the ceiling. you can hear his heart beating in his chest, the rhythmic thumping calming your anxieties. your eyes search his face; taking in his long lashes, the slope of his nose and the rounded tip of it, his pretty pink lips and the tongue that darts out to wet them every so often.

he’s so pretty. in your hazy headspace you’re unaware of how hard you’re staring at him. it helps to ground you; watching him, feeling the warmth of him.

“can I help you with something?” he teases gently, looking down at you. your big, glassy eyes look up at him in wonderment, blinking back into reality when he breaks you from your trance.

“you’re pretty,” you say before you can stop yourself, but once the words are out you find that you aren’t sure if you even care.

“am I?” he asks, moving a hand to brush some hair from your face.

you nod, chewing at your lip.

“so are you.” he leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “you feeling better now, sweets?”

“mhm,” you agree. “that doesn’t mean you can stop cuddling me though. y’have to stay here,” you insist, pouting at him as if he was trying to plot his escape.

he chuckles at your lack of a filter, smiles warmly at the way you snuggle back into his chest.

“okay, sweetheart. don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

[seeingivy]

the scouts

roommate eren x f!reader 

eren’s hometown friends have a lot to say. vis a vis you. 

**find the series masterlist here

content warning: galliard slander, irritable bowel syndrome, mikasa don’t gaf, connie and sasha are thieves, lying??, carla yeager being a sunshine, eren being a cheeky little shit, laxatives 

an: alright. feast my children. pls keep ur little memes and drawings and funny comments coming bc I love them (and they incentivize me to write chapters faster so I can seem more of them LOL) - also @togemayo and @rebeccawinters your connie and reiner cameos have ARRIVED, love you da mostest 

previous part linked here

- 

“There’s no way in fucking hell you called me about this. I am a grown man, with a child. I’m above stupid shit like this.” 

“Fuck you, Galliard. Pieck would help me with this, you know that.” 

“Then call her. I’m going to block you.” 

“You don’t think I tried that? I would never willingly talk to you, like ever. Please, Galliard, just tell me what to do.” 

“Twerp, you’re giving him a necklace, not proposing marriage. You’re not going to look desperate if you walk to a fucking soccer field and just to give it to him.” 

“Okay. Are you sure?” 

“I’m hanging up now.” 

“Like really. You’re not just saying that, are you?” 

“Don’t call me unless you’re dying. And even then, you better have tried every other person you know before you ever dial this number again.” 

Static. Fucking asshole hung up on you. 

Eren has a soccer game today. He’d let you know early on in the week that he wouldn’t be here to make breakfast for you on Friday because his family and a few of his hometown friends were coming to watch the game. Apparently, this game was a really big deal - some type of rivalry type thing with another university. 

You weren’t going. Obviously. You had stopped going the second Hitch took your jersey, because it was too embarrassing to think about going now. I mean what are you even supposed to wear now? And what’s the point of going if Eren’s with her and she’s going to be there? 

Yet here you are, waiting in the line outside of the stadium. Everyone around you is decked out - forest green shirts, face paint, streamers - and you can already tell that this game is way more intense than the ones you had been to. In the past, it would be you and maybe five other people in the stands, spread out doing homework. But this game looks like it’s going to be packed. 

All the more reason to do this. 

to jean-boy

you: hey. are you at the game today? 

jean-boy: yeah. on the field with min. they’re all warming up. 

you: i didn’t realize this game would be such a big deal lol. 

jean-boy: yeah. I think everyone’s kind of anxious. eren hasn’t made a single goal all morning and he’s getting more pissed each time he tries 

you: doesn’t help that he left his necklace at home 

jean-boy: the key necklace? did you bring it? 

you: yeah. that’s why im here. i remember he said something about like he always loses games or gets hurt or something when he doesn’t wear it. thought i’d bring it so i don’t have to help him to the toilet when he breaks his legs or smth. 

jean-boy: meet me in the back. ill let you in so you can give it to him. 

You awkwardly wait in the back of the stadium, teetering on your heels as you wait for Jean. You’re just giving him his necklace. It doesn’t mean anything. He won’t know that you like him because you’re just giving him his good luck charm. You’re being a good friend. Anyone in your position would do this. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi Jean.” 

“What are you wearing?” 

You look down, only now paying attention to the outfit that you were wearing. You didn’t think it was that bad - black jeans and a blue cardigan. 

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” 

“You wore the rival's colors.” 

“Okay? Arrest me, Jean.” 

“No, it’s like a thing. You can’t wear the rival's colors. Armin and Eren are going to make you change the second you get on the field.” 

“You guys are so superstitious. It’s just a shirt.” 

He shakes his head as you both walk through the door, pacing across the turf as he sets out to look for Eren. All the players are running on the field, kicking balls in between each other, hitting them into the nets. You spot Eren at the end, his head in his hands as he talks to Armin on the side. 

“Hey. Found him. You can go back, I’ll just give it to him and leave.” 

He nods, leaving your side as you make your way over there. You walk up just in time to catch the end of Armin and Eren’s conversation, your ears burning. You shouldn’t have come. 

“How do you know you love Annie? Because, sometimes I think I love her, Armin.” 

You can pretend like that one didn’t sting. You clear your throat, the two of them turning their backs to look at you. You watch Eren’s eyes nearly boggle out of their sockets as Armin drops the water bottle he was holding, at the sight of you standing there. Armin awkwardly walks away as Eren walks up, his eyes still flashing in shock. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“What happened to hello? How are you? My name is?” 

“How much did you hear?” 

“None of it. Did I miss something important?” 

You see his shoulders relax, pushing out a sigh of relief. First he calls you his best friend and then he can’t even tell you he thinks he might love Hitch?

“Yeah, you almost heard about my murder plot. It all started that fateful day, when I let you move into my apartment.” 

“That was months ago. Surely the opportunity must have presented itself. Knife to the back in the shower…smack me across the head with a frying pan…” 

“I’m playing the long game. You’ll never see it coming.” 

You both laugh, with you rolling your eyes as the silence settles around you too. You can see the stands filling up at your sides, the anticipation building in the stadium. 

“Um so-” 

“What are you wearing, Y/N?”

“We’re not doing this, Eren.” 

“You have to change. Like now.” 

“I’m not walking around in my tank top, Eren. It’s cold. And I’ll leave anyway, I just came to give you this.” 

You hold the key necklace up, dangling it between the two of your faces. You watch his eyes light up as he takes the necklace from your hands. He then cups your face in his hand and presses a kiss to your fucking forehead, before putting his arms around you and spinning you in the air.

“Oh my fucking god, thank you. You brilliant, brilliant girl. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ve been missing goals all morning.” 

Your brain is malfunctioning. You’ve literally picked up Eren from parties in the dead of the night and he’s barely even said thank you when you did that. This is all it takes? A fucking necklace and he gives you a forehead kiss? 

He sets you down, still flashing you a bigger than big smile as he latches the necklace on. 

“You’re not missing goals because you weren’t wearing the necklace.” 

“Yes. I was. We’re not having this argument right now, especially when you’re wearing that. I have something you can wear.” 

You hear Armin walk up, holding two jerseys in his hand. 

“Way ahead of you. She can wear mine or yours. Everyone else put their spares in their lockers already.” 

“Mine. Thanks Armin.” 

“Don’t tell me you believe in this too, Armin?” 

“Just put it on. If you don’t, Eren will blame you if the game goes wrong.” 

Armin walks away, leaving the two of you standing again. Eren’s holding the jersey out in front of you, waiting for you to put it on. 

“Full disclosure. I will blame it on you, if we lose kitty.” 

“It’s just a color.” 

“No. No, it’s the principle. Think about it. My girl can’t be wearing the rival colors on our sides of the stands. That’s just a bad omen..like we’re asking to lose the game or something.” 

My girl. 

“I’m leaving, Eren. I just came to give you the necklace.” 

He puts his hands on your waist, spinning you around to turn you towards the stadium, where everyone was sitting. He leaves one hand on there, his other sliding down to your wrist. 

“What are you doing?” 

He lifts your hand up, shaking it in front of the stadium. 

“This isn’t the time for a puppet show, Eren.” 

“Look at the second row, towards the middle.” 

You squint your eyes, scanning the entire row. And then you fucking see it. Eren’s parents and his brother. He’s making you wave at them. And they’re doing it back, nearly jumping to return the gesture.

“Eren.” 

He spins you back around and he fucking smirks at you. 

“You waved at them. Now, they’re going to expect you to go sit with them. For the entire game, mind you. Meaning you’re staying, so you should put it on.” 

Asshole. 

“Unless you want to leave my mom hanging?” 

“Give me the jersey, Eren.” 

He flashes you a winning smile, clearly delighted with his victory. You unbutton the ends of the cardigan, slipping it off and switching it with Eren’s jersey. He reaches forward, pulling out the ends of your hair that were tucked into the jersey as you smooth it against your clothes. 

“So.” 

“So.” 

“Win your game or whatever. Without the help of your stupid necklace.” 

“Planning on it, peaches. Necklace and all.” 

He pokes the side of your cheek and flashes you one last smile as he runs back onto the field, right in front of the goal. You watch as he centers the ball in front of him, kicking it into the net on the first try. He turns to the side, pointing at you after making the goal, as he mouths four words.

I told you so. 

- 

You tap Zeke on the shoulder, the three of them turning their heads towards you. 

“Hi. Mind if I sit with you guys?” 

The three of them jump up - Grisha shaking your hand very excitedly, Zeke crushing you in a hug, and Carla cupping your face in her hands, pressing a kiss on both of your cheeks. 

So this is where Eren gets it from. 

“We’re so excited you came, sweet girl. We were hoping you would find your way over here when we saw you on the field.” 

You nod, Carla squeezing your hands in hers (another thing Eren gets from her, you’re sure of it). You settle in the seat next to Zeke, brushing your sweaty palms against the ends of your pants. You can see the game is starting as they all take their places on the field, Eren giving the four of you one last wave. You look at the group of people seated directly to your right, the four of them waving back at him too. 

And then you remember. Eren’s hometown friends came down to watch his game. 

You take in the sight of the four of them. You can recognize the girl at the end, farthest from you. Mikasa - Eren’s childhood best friend, the two of them and Armin were inseparable. The two in the middle you recognize as well, from the polaroid that Eren had in his wallet. They’re both arguing with each other - with him pulling her hair and her elbowing him in the sides. The fourth boy is entirely unrecognizable to you - broad shoulders, short, messy blonde hair. 

You tap him on the shoulder. 

“Hi. You’re one of Eren’s hometown friends, right? My name is Y/N. I’m his roommate.” 

At the sound of this, the four of them turn their heads, turning to face you. 

“His roommate? Since when?” 

“Yeah. We’ve been living together since the start of the semester.” 

“Reiner, there’s no way in hell right? He kept going on and on about how he was going to finally have a bachelor pad this semester.” 

“There’s no fucking way. He literally hated having a roommate. Remember when he threw up on Samuel’s bed on purpose when he was drunk?” 

Mental note, Reiner’s the one with the blonde hair. The three of them turn their heads towards Mikasa, who's still watching the game. You’re not sure when she showed up, but Annie’s sitting at her side - the two of them linking their arms together as they sit. Right. She must already know Mikasa since her and Armin have been dating for a while. 

“Mikasa. Did you know about this?” 

“He may have mentioned it once or twice to me, Connie.” 

Buzzed hair is Connie. Connie and the girl in the middle open up the space between them, gesturing for the two of you to sit between them. You don’t miss the look they give each other as you sit down, the two of them smiling deviously. 

“I’m Sasha.” 

“And I’m Connie.” 

“It’s nice to meet you guys, really.” 

They both smile, linking their arms with yours as they start staring at you more intently. 

“Say. Do you mind answering a few questions for us?” 

“Sure.” 

“How did Eren become your roommate?” 

“I kind of had these sucky roommates last semester. They kind of didn’t mention that they didn’t want to room with me anymore so I kind of switched around at staying at my friends place while I tried to look for an apartment. I couldn’t find one after a week and I met Eren at Armin’s and he offered.” 

You watch the three of them, Reiner leaning over now, widening their eyes at you. 

“He offered? To house you, a woman, another person, in his apartment, willingly?” 

“I mean, I think so? I think he might have felt bad or something. I’m not really sure why he did it.” 

“I might have an idea.” 

At Reiner’s comment, the three of them start giggling, like they’re all in on some joke you’re not quite sure of. 

“Do you like Taylor Swift, Y/N?” 

“I do, Connie. Is it that obvious?” 

You feel Connie shaking your arm, nearly jumping out of his seat. 

“Me too. What’s your favorite album? Favorite song? Folklore or Evermore?” 

“Probably, Reputation. For the song, I think maybe Sweet Nothing? And definitely Evermore over here.” 

Reiner reaches over and smacks Connie on the back of the neck, mentioning he was getting off track. Off track of what? 

“Say. Have you ever…played Taylor Swift for Eren or something?” 

“Um, not exactly playing it for him but I kind of have a tendency to sing in the shower sometimes. But also, he did willingly watch the Reputation Stadium Tour without me prompting him to, so I think it’s growing on him.” 

At this, Connie and Sasha lean over, their faces a few feet from yours. 

“I fucking knew it. That playlist is about you.” 

“What playlist?” 

You watch Reiner pull out his phone, opening out his Spotify app. The three of them are still smirking - the same way Eren did when he trapped you into staying at the game. 

He hands you Eren’s Spotify profile, with exactly one playlist on it, called peaches. The picture is the one from when you and Eren went to see Kenny in the city, only your hands in view as you pet the cat the two of you saw on the street. 

You scroll through the playlist, with well over a hundred songs - most of them being Taylor Swift. They are organized by album, a few songs picked out from each one. Meaning, Eren went through each album and picked out the songs that he liked. Just because you said you liked Taylor Swift. I mean, it did have to be about you. It is called peaches. 

“So. Is it about you?” 

“Uh, yeah. I think so, Connie. Those are my hands. And he calls me peaches, because of my shampoo.” 

Mikasa leans over, interjecting in the conversation. 

“Did he make you switch it? The shampoo?” 

“Uh, no. I think he likes it?” 

“Hm.” 

Mikasa leans back, sharing a look with Sasha. 

“Is that a big deal or something, Connie?” 

“Kind of. Eren got really bad food poisoning from some peach flavored concoction Reiner made him once in high school. The smell makes him want to like vomit.” 

“It wasn’t a concoction, it was a protein shake. How was I supposed to know that dragon fruit was basically a laxative?” 

“We all told you. Like six times.” the three of them respond, rolling their eyes. 

Sasha and Connie unlink their arms from yours, turning their attention back to the game. The four of them interject once in a while, lost in their own conversations, but your head is still buzzing from the one that you had with them. 

Eren has a playlist. That he made for you. He spent hours probably - listening to each song, picking out the ones he liked. 

“Say. Did Eren ever mention us?” 

“Hm. Well, I knew about Mikasa - Armin and Eren have both mentioned her. And I’ve seen a picture of the two of you before, Eren has one in his wallet. But no Reiner, never mentioned you.” 

“We have his wallet.” 

Reiner taps Zeke on the shoulder and pockets the wallet from him. Sasha and Connie reach over, pulling out the dollar bills first - equally dividing the cash between the five of you and stuffing her share in her pocket - before returing it to Reiner, who pulls out both polaroids. 

This is when you realize your mistake. Because the polaroid of you kissing his cheek is still in his fucking wallet. You watch Reiner pull it out and hold it out in front of Connie and Sasha, the two of them shaking you in their arms as they all scream in your ears. 

“You guys are so cute! We fucking knew it. When did you start dating?” 

At the sound of that, you see Carla turn her head out of the corner of her eyes, slightly shuffling over to see what you two are talking about. And then your mistake gets even worse. Because then Carla runs over, kissing you twice on the cheeks again and literally bursting out of happiness at the news. 

“Oh, I’m so happy for you two. I knew something was going on. And I even told Eren, he better get a move on because a girl like you doesn’t stay single for long.” 

“You would be shocked, Mrs.Yeager.” 

She takes her hands into yours, squeezing twice again. Fucking Yeagers and their hand squeezing. It’s almost impossible not to like them. 

“Take care of our boy, okay?. He’s really sensitive and emotional, which I’m sure you know already but he means well. Really. And let him take care of you too. He’s told me that you’re a little bit more closed off at times, but he would never hurt you. He cares about you, so so much. It’s you two, on the same side, always.” 

And you can’t do it. You can’t tell her the truth because…she’s just so excited. So happy for the two of you. The way she’s holding your hands in hers, kissing your cheeks, doting over you. She’s so excited that it’s you. You don’t want to be the one to tell her that her son has no interest in you. 

So you don’t. 

“I will. Take care of him, I mean.” 

She smiles widely again, crushing you in your arms as he gives you another hug. 

Now you have to find Eren. And tell him that you just told your mom that the two of you are dating. 

-  

You find him at half-time, outside the locker room. He’s lying on the bench with two of his teammates, ice packs pressed to each of his foreheads. 

“Ren?” 

He immediately sits up at the sound of your voice, pulling the ice pack off his head as he stands up. He gestures towards the walkway, the two of you walking back down to the stadium. 

“Everything okay, kitty?” 

“Uh. I might have messed up.” 

He stops, turning to face you. 

“What did you do?” 

“Promise you won’t be mad, Ren?” 

“I could never be mad at you. You know that.” 

Right. Okay. Just tell him. That’s when you start rambling. 

“Well. I met your friends - they’re really nice. Connie and Sasha stole some of your money, though. And Reiner was basically telling me about how he gave you Irritable Bowel Syndrome with a peach smoothie he made you, which is weird because you call me peaches but they were insisting that you hate them. Right, so I told them that you keep a polaroid of them in your wallet - because it’s so cute and I would want to know if I was them -  and then they pulled your wallet out and the other polaroid was still in there. And then your mom saw and she was just being so…so sweet that I didn’t have the heart to tell her we weren’t really together.” 

He’s staring you down. Green eyes, forehead scrunched up, lips in a straight line. Stop paying attention to his fucking lips. 

“So. Let me get this straight. You told my mom that…we were dating?” 

“Yes.”

“That’s it?” 

“What? 

“I thought you killed someone or something. That’s not a big deal.” 

“How is that not a big deal? I just lied to your mother. And told her that we were dating.” 

“Yeah. I’d probably do the same thing if I was in your position. She probably gave you that whole lecture right, about how we need to take care of each other, how I’m all sensitive and emotional?” 

You’ve got to be kidding me. 

“Yeah. How’d you know? 

“She gave me the same one after she met you. Even I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t dating you. I just told her I liked you, that’s all.” 

“Oh. Okay. I was like freaking out about it.” 

He locks his fingers with yours, squeezing twice as the two of you continue to slowly walk. 

“It’s okay. I’ll deal with her. She just really likes you, that’s all. They all do.” 

“Okay. You sure it’s okay? You’re not secretly mad at me right?” 

He looks over, giving you a lopsided grin, the one that makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Really, kitty. I could never be mad at you. And I know you. There’s nothing nefarious going on up here.” 

He takes his fingers, tapping on your forehead. 

“How do you know? This could all be a part of my secret plot to be the new Mrs. Yeager.” 

“Bullshit.” 

You nudge into him, making him stumble to the side as you both make it to the front of the stadium. 

“And why’s that?” 

“Because. You wouldn’t need a secret plot if that’s what you wanted.” 

He taps the end of your nose before lifting the bar to run back on the field to finish the game, leaving you more confused than when you arrived here.

Stupid Galliard. He always gives terrible advice. 

- 

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[itostea]

perfect match (shidou x reader)

When news breaks out that your friend’s boyfriend breaks up with her due to his wish for a “mature” woman, you make sure to not to ensure that never happens with your boyfriend. 

warnings: established relationship, shidou being dirty again lol, he can’t keep his hands off you, the scene is kinda inspired by the ending scene in loving yamada kun at lv999, image from my reason to die

“I just got dumped.”

“What? That’s impossible! I mean you guys were soooo in love!” One of your friends gasps, a hand clasped over her lips. You feel yourself roll your eyes at the mock surprise, blinking as you watch her comfort your other friend who stared blankly at her lunch.

“He said he wanted a mature woman…” she mumbles quietly. “So he broke up with me and told me he was going to go look for one.”

You sigh, patting her on the back as you smiled in pity. “Don’t believe him. That was probably just an excuse to break up–”

“Oh no!” A voice interrupts you and you watch in wonder as your other friend stares deep in thought. “That actually happened to one of the girls in my class as well. As a matter of fact, that’s quite a trend now!”

“It’s a trend to break up if the woman isn’t mature enough?” You gape, finding her words hard to believe. Then again, you’ve been receiving more news of couple fall outs and failed talking stages. Unexplained motives behind break-ups; tears and uncontrollable sobbing; ending on bad terms. You don’t want to accept such groundless theories regarding these split-ups but they’ve been increasing exponentially ever since last month. 

“Yes, one hundred percent!” Your friend chirps. “Reminds me (Name), you have a boyfriend too right? Shidou? Does he want you to be mature as well?”

“Well…” you chuckle awkwardly. Truthfully, “mature” was a reach for your behavior with him. Just an hour ago, you made a stupid deez nuts joke to him because he ate the last of your ice-cream. And a day ago, you walked around in the house with a face mask and in your cringy middle-school shirt–not the most flattering version of you. All of the memories of your time with him come rushing to you and you can’t help but feel sweat drip down your skin. 

Believe it or not, you loved Ryusei. A lot. Even if you had to deal with his constant gushing about that Itoshi Sae player and his weird morning routine that required getting naked and yelling, you genuinely wanted to marry this man. You know it’s pointless to think further into the possibility of him breaking up with you, but the surge in break-ups makes you worried–anxious that he seriously could consider it. 

“(Name)? You’ve been glaring at the table for a good minute now. Are you okay?” 

Your friends watch in surprise as you suddenly stand up, looking at them with a determined expression. You quickly gather your things and slap a couple bills down. “Sorry guys, I have to go! I’ll see you at class!”

“What–? Hey!”

You jolted outside the cafe and sent a text to Shidou, telling him that you were coming home. In a normal situation, you would’ve ignored the fact that he responded with an “ok.” It was rare for him to give you short answer responses but it wasn’t unheard of. Yet, that answer is enough to make you pick up the pace, ignoring the way your heels dug into the side of your foot. 

Today is the day where you perfect the “mature” partner act. 

                    -

“So basically,” you mumble, choosing to ignore the hand on your thigh. “I know that you’re busy with practice and all that stuff so I won’t bother you that much. Also, I want you to start prioritizing your health and–”

 A yawn cuts you off from your ramble and you feel your eye twitch in irritation. Even so, you restrain yourself from arguing with him. “Are you listening to me Ryu?”

“Yeah I am babe,” he stretches, manspreading over the couch until you’re left pressed against the corner. The hand on your thigh just moves up to grab your waist and plop you on his lap. You feel your breath hitch but there was no way you were giving in this easily.

You huffed. “Then what’d I say just now?”

“Something ‘bout how you wanted to talk and other stuff.”

“That was at the beginning of our conversation!” You heaved, watching in disbelief as he let out another yawn. “Seriously Ryu?” 

“I promise I was listening, sweets. It’s just I got bored once you mentioned the ‘giving me space talk.’ Y’know that stuff bores me.”

“But it’s important!”

“Nah what’s important is this,” he mumbles against your shoulder, shifting so he can grab your foot to observe a fresh bruise forming. In his arms, you can smell your shampoo on him and it makes you giddy inside to know that you guys started sharing each other’s things. He tilts his head to get a better look at it. 

“Why’d you wear those, what do you call them? Oh heelies right? Yeah, why'd you wear heelies to a ‘casual’ outing with some friends. You’re not hanging out with other men right babe?” 

You roll your eyes from his random fit of jealousy. “They’re called heels and I wore them because it completed the outfit Ryusei. Now back to what I was saying–”

Another yawn cuts you off from continuing. It’s his way of saying that this conversation is meaningless. You sighed and tried to unravel his arms around your waist. “I’m going since you’re not listening to me.”

“Don’t be like that,” his arms tighten around waist and you yelp when he moves you back in his lap. “Not letting you leave ‘til you tell me what’s wrong.” 

“Nothing’s wrong–”

“Uh huh good try,” he says, voice husky against your neck. “Now tell me.”

It’s not easy to dissuade Shidou whenever he’s put his mind to anything. You’ve tried it many times and figured that he’s ten times more stubborn when it comes to you. Just that thought is enough to make you slouch against his chest and sigh. “My friend got dumped.”

“Okay but what’s that gotta do with us?”

“Let me finish,” you slap him lightly on the shoulder, gaining a grin from him. “Anyways, she got dumped because her boyfriend wanted a mature woman. Now before you make fun of me, a lot of couples have been breaking up so I got scared okay? I know I don’t act that mature with you so I was worried you might…” you don’t finish the last part and instead avert your eyes from his pink hues. 

“Oh that’s all? That’s a shitty reason.”

“Are you calling my feelings shitty, Ryusei?”

“Not your feelings pretty thing. Breaking up over that reason is shitty. At least for me. I think you’re cute how you are now,” he shrugged, patting your face with a grin. 

You still don’t believe him completely, frowning as you turned to look at him. “But…”

He huffs and leans back. “Babe I literally took you on a crawfish date and still fucked you afterwards–”

“Ryu! Oh my god,” you covered your face in your hands. “You’re gross!”

“Yeah but you like it,” he laughs. “Okay, point is, don’t worry your pretty head over shit like that. I don’t act that mature around you either.”

“Well that’s because you’re just weird.”

“You’re just as weird for liking me,” he snickers. “That’s all you wanted to say right? It’s cute that you went out of your way to act like this for your mean boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes as he began to squeeze your cheek. “Please shut up and just hold me.”

“Anything for my girl,” he chuckles, bringing your head closer to his shoulder. Shidou always had the warmest body temperature that you couldn’t help but appreciate. Closing your eyes, you choose to relax against his hold and breathe in the smell of his laundry and shampoo. 

And that peace is shattered the moment you hear the sound of a slap and a sting on your ass. Your eye twitches once again. “Ryusei. Why do you always ruin the mood?”

“Babe it was right in front of me! I was resisting the urge for over an hour now!”

You pinch the space in between in your eyes and sigh for the nth time today. Thinking about it now, you two really were a perfect match for one another.

[maxwapan]

too spacious when you’re lonely

leon s. kennedy x male!reader

word count. 5.3k

cws. incest, stepbrother leon, pee, reader w bad bladder issues lol, crude language, handjobs, humping, OOC leon (duh), boring mid sexual encounter cause it’s leon, crude language

note. this is my first fic including dark(?) content so it’s wonky and mid and the overall flow of it is boring but whatever I tried my best. It’s not necessarily dark it’s just weird and icky and me just rambling lol :3 also the pee part comes out of nowhere sorry LMAO like ur just flashed

Leon Kennedy has always been the type to lead girls on, whether it be for one thing or another, he just didn’t care. Everything was a one-time thing to him. That hook-up last week, that promise he made to a buddy, that girl he had accidentally gotten pregnant… it all went in one ear and out the other.

He was a massive asshole, that much was clear to anyone with basic comprehension levels. But no one gave a fuck, because as long as you’re hot enough you’re given a free pass to do whatever you want. He knew that he was hot, yeah, but that’s like, normal. He’s only ever been surrounded by hot people his entire life. Why would he want to willingly hang out with someone who isn’t? That’s weird. No hot person does that unless they want something from you. Or they feel bad, which is probably worse.

Leon doesn’t hang out with you at all. He’s your stepbrother, so one would think he’d at least spare you a glance or a nod, right? No, no, not at all. You’re a fleeting thought to him. An “oh yeah, I forgot” type of topic. And that’s fine. It’s not like you’re the most socially indulgent type of person in the world. You’re not anything interesting. That’s why you’re not worth bullying either. Not worth some abrupt pantsing or name-calling— whatever big brothers are supposed to do with their younger siblings. Nada.

That kind of irks you. Kind of. Leon goes out of his way to make anyone he hangs out with miserable by just being himself, yet he avoids you like the plague.

It’s not purposeful, ‘cause he couldn’t care less about you— and that’s what grinds your gears.

Your mom marries some random cop who just so happens to have a kid your age, and now what? Aren’t you supposed to be a part of some picture-perfect family now? Because that’s not what it feels like. It just feels odd. You have to go downstairs for breakfast and dinner now, have a movie night every Friday, and whatever other cheesy nonsense your mom deems necessary. Where was all of that before? It’s annoying to think about. You don’t want to get all buddy-buddy with people you don’t even know or could care less about.

They probably feel the same way about you, which, whatever. The feeling is mutual. There’s just something about Leon in particular that gets on your nerves the most.

It’s just everything about him. His stupid blue eyes, his stupid side-swept hair, and his especially stupid smile. You’d punch his nose back into place if you could. Everyone else adores him. They practically kiss his ass and pucker up their lips to give him a nice rimming. It’s disgusting.

It’s a no-brainer that you’re jealous. Yeah, and what of it? It’s not like you want people to start looking at you as if you shit gold or something, but would it kill someone to notice you every once in a while? What’s Leon got that you don’t? Who’s dick is he sucking to get this many people tailing after him like lost puppies? And where can you meet them? All this who, what, why questioning is starting to hurt your brain, that’s all you know.

It’s hot in your room, and the ceiling fan’s low speed only manages to thrust more warm air towards you. The useless thing never works the way it’s supposed to. Restless, you sit up in your bed, running a hand through your mussed-up hair with an anxious sigh.

The sound of lively chatting and dishes clattering downstairs makes your ears perk, straining to hear what is going on. Something, something about your mom leaving for work soon, something else about your stepdad needing to fix the A/C… you lose interest and stop listening, eyes darting over to the alarm clock beside your bed, messily decorated with stickers and other knick-knacks.

9:04 AM.

It’s a Wednesday, which means both of your parents will be busy. Normally, you’d enjoy a day to yourself, but not this one. Wednesdays, if you’re unlucky, Leon will stay home to invite his friends over, the cute ones that have no personality or self-respect. If you’re lucky, he’ll bring home the ditzy blonde girl and Spanish-speaking man. They’re cute.

Leon definitely fucks the blonde. You’ve seen her press her chest up against his arm and sputter out nonsense as an excuse to get close.

You can’t help but frown at the memory. She’s cute as fuck, and he just sits there like an idiot, nodding along to whatever she was saying, a distant look in his eyes as if he were thinking about something else. What else does he have to think about other than the tits being offered to him on a silver platter? Dick?

Your mom calls out your name, startling you out of your foul mood.

“Come have breakfast!” She says, sounding like she was in the middle of something else way more important than you. You’re grown, you don’t need the reminder— or the attention. Maybe.

You don’t bother changing into something else, simply swiping some invisible lint off of your shirt and pushing back some hair from your face before heading downstairs, the old wood creaking under your weight.

You take the last step down, and Instantly, you’re hit with the smell of bacon and pancakes. Your mouth waters, stomach rumbling. Glancing around, you see your mom walking out the front door, keys in hand. No stepdad, and no Leon either. Either he already ate or he’s still asleep, neither of which you can bother to care about right now. Taking your seat in your respective chair, you began to eat your fill.

A mix of pancakes, strawberries, and bacon are all shoveled into your mouth, fork occasionally scratching against the porcelain of your plate and making you wince. Your mom makes good food. It makes up for all the other stuff she lacks, at least. It’s not like she has to make something good to get you to eat though. Caught up in getting your belly full, you miss the familiar creaking of wood coming downstairs.

“It’s early in the morning and you’re already stuffing your face.”

You feel your heart lurch, the pancakes passing down your throat almost getting stuck. Coughing, you wipe at your mouth with the corner of your sleeve, glaring over at your stepbrother, who isn’t even looking at you. Leon was rummaging through the fridge, snaking his hand in between some condiments to grab a protein shake. The same one his dad takes.

Oh, so he’s talking to you now? Is what’s snarked out in your head, but anxiety makes you flounder, wondering if he was speaking to you or not. Awkwardly, you slow down your movements, fork stabbing into the pancakes you were eating, now soggy with syrup. Eyes dashing up to steal a glance, you almost die right then and there when you accidentally make eye contact, meekly pushing your plate away and standing up to leave.

“What? Don’t want to eat with me or something?” Leon’s sarcastic tone stops you in your tracks, the mere attention making your heart rabbit against your chest— and not in a good way. Shit, man. What do you even say in a situation like this? What do you say at all? It’s not a big deal to most, but it is to you. It’s not like Leon talks to you every day, after all.

You open your mouth to speak, lips dry and tongue heavy.

“I’m just kidding.” He mutters, arm flexing as he rapidly shakes his protein shake, uncapping the drink before taking a swing.

Your words die out immediately, left gaping like a fish out of water. Just kidding? So he didn’t want to talk to you at all? You don’t know if you’re relieved or miserable, but your chest hurts, as if the mere situation has taken years off your lifespan. Gasping quietly, you nod, bunching your sweaty hands up into fists, as if the action would ground you.

“O—oh..‘kay, yeah…” You lick your lips, eyes on the floor beneath your feet. “I mean, would you want me to…?” Trailing off, heat rises to your cheeks, a feeling of inadequacy making you tremble lightly. Oh my god, you’re pathetic. You’re not hurt exactly, but something about him being able to shrug you off so easily like that stings. It’s a bittersweet feeling, but in the worst possible way.

Leon turns his head a little to look at you, his eyebrows pinching. He looks… concerned? No, that’s pity, you think. He’s pitying you, probably thinking about how unfortunate it is that you’re his weird little brother with no friends and social ineptitude. He probably thinks that you want to hang out with him too. You’d rather die, but you felt bad. That’s the only reason you even spoke in the first place. Honest.

“I mean,” you repeat helplessly, feeling as though you were digging yourself into a deeper hole. But your mouth kept running, seemingly out of your control. “I j-just thought that—“

“Uh, yeah. I wouldn’t mind…?” Leon cuts you off, looking back at the food set out on the table, most of it gone now. The sentence sounded forced, like he felt like he had to say it. Not that he needed to. He doesn’t wait for you, sitting down on a chair and serving himself some of the remaining food, occasionally giving you looks. Ones you couldn’t pinpoint the emotion behind. That’s scary. This is scary.

“You… okay?” Leon asks reluctantly. He’d rather be focused on something else right now, like who texted what and whatever, but he has to play the big brother role, right? His attempt at expressing care is lackluster, but at least it’s something. He has to care, but it’s not necessarily a want. If you didn’t look like you were about to shit yourself right now, he’d probably be less attentive, but you’re stuck in place and trembling like a sickly dog, and he’s a little concerned. Just a little.

He doesn’t want to get blamed by your parents for something that happened to you, or anything else like that.

You don’t answer him, and he gets a little creeped out. You don’t blame him, considering how fucking weird you’re being. Anyone, anyone at all talks to you, and you freak out like a girl wearing white on her period. Stomach churning, adrenaline makes you feel like you’re falling, the blood draining from your skin making you look as sickly as you felt. Leon’s worried now, considering the odd look he gives you, any thought of food currently abandoned.

He’s looking at you as if you were covered in blood or something, like Carrie at prom. He raises his brows and his eyes widen, jerking back a little as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. What was he seeing? Are you really that freakish or something? What’s up with his face?

A sudden splatter of liquid against the wooden floors makes you look down, gasping at the sight you’re greeted with.

Pee.

You’re fucking pissing yourself.

Hands clutching at your crotch, you sputter, mortified and embarrassed, tears welling in your eyes. “O—oh! Oh my god, uhm, I- I didn’t mean to…” More liquid gushes. Your bladder has completely lost control of itself in response to your failure at trying to act like a proper human being. You wince at the loud sound, Leon doing the same. He just stares, and you just stare. You both stare at the growing puddle, at the mess, at your ruined pants— at you.

It’s all overwhelming, enough to make you burst into tears. Which you do. Fat, salty drops run down your cheeks, and you resort to the only thing you know how to do in a situation like this. Apologize like a fucking loser.

“I- I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean… fuck..! Sorry, I’m sorry!”

Leon doesn’t know what to say, really. Does he laugh? Make a face? Offer to help?

He cringes instead, raising a hand to try and stop your babbling. “It’s okay, It’s okay…” He speaks quietly as if trying to console a frantic animal. “Just— just don’t move, you’re… ugh…” He hasn’t even gotten up from his seat yet, but he does now, slowly rising and forgetting about breakfast. That always seems to happen to him somehow.

“Are you done?…” He asks, unsure if he should approach or not, his body tense with confusion. “I mean, with-“

“Yes! Yes,” You sniffle, dreading your existence. You pray to anyone, anything, to just kill you right now. To strike you down. “I— I’m done… I think… don’t look please…”

“It’s all over the floor…” Leon mumbles. Way to point out the obvious. Yes, you know it’s all over on the floor. You know it’ll seep through if you don’t clean it soon. But that’s the last thing on your mind right now. Your stepbrother just watched you piss yourself out of pure gut-wrenching anxiety. How have you not killed yourself yet? Maybe it’s the nerves, the fear of someone else walking in on you in this compromising situation and making a mockery of it. You could see the social media posts now.

‘Some yellow-bellied boy pissed himself because he’s too afraid to make conversation with someone supposed to be a part of his family’.

“I-” You choke, the dryness of your throat making you swallow thickly. “Can you h-help me?” You manage to get out the words, swallowing again. A tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a hot trail of moisture on your already-heated flesh. God, please say yes. You don’t think you could take any more embarrassing exchanges today– much less a rejection. Leon’s eyes flicker from the puddle of urine to the streaks of it running down your pant legs and back, over and over. It’s the one time you wish he could look at your face instead.

“Leon,” You plead, wiping your tears away messily.

“Right, right,” Leon inhales deeply, exhaling slowly to get a grasp of the situation. “yeah.”

He coughs into the sleeve of his letterman, “Can you walk to the bathroom?”

You fluster, brows furrowing.

“Of course I can,” You frown, sniffling. He’s treating you as if you’re mentally challenged, annoyance starting to swell in your chest.

Leon raises a brow, a silent question in his expression. “So do it then?” it says.

After some brief hesitation, you turn and fumble towards the bathroom, grimacing at the uncomfortable feel of your wet pants, the fabric rubbing against your skin nastily and making you feel itchy. You can hear Leon opening and closing some doors behind you, likely peering into the cleaning closet in an attempt to find something to clean the mess you left behind with. Hopefully he doesn’t use bleach, that doesn’t smell well when mixed with pee.

With shaky fingers, you flip the light switch up, illuminating the room in an instant. It smells nice in here ‘cause mom keeps it clean, who uses all sorts of chemicals and powders strong enough to knock anyone out. A whiff of urine makes your face screw up almost immediately though.

With a grunt, you pull your pants down clumsily, the material sliding down your legs with a wet noise after some effort and landing on the floor with a heavy plap. Hopefully the pee washes out. Those were your favorite pants. You follow up by removing your undies, letting them fall carelessly onto the floor beside your pants. Now you’re naked from the waist down, skin prickling with goosebumps. You really need a shower, like, right now.

“Hey,” Leon’s voice comes from behind, startling you. “I finished cleaning the… pee…” He trails off, eyes on your bare ass. For a moment, he stares, eyes eventually rising to your face— only to come down to your ass again. And again, face then ass. Mostly ass.

“Dude!” Your voice wavers, embarrassed. You turn your body to hide, but end up giving him a full view of your front too. “Get out!”

Leon keeps his eyes on you, slowly shutting the door behind him and locking it with a soft click.

“I thought you wanted me to help you?” He says casually, his demeanor incomprehensible to you. He looks down at the discarded clothes on the floor, clicking his tongue and wrinkling his nose. “That’s… nasty.”

You stammer, words lost on you. Leon doesn’t wait for you to use your brain, moving forward, making you feel the need to step back.

“You know, most big brothers wouldn’t help their little brothers at all. Especially for situations like this.” He says quietly, eyes intently on your face now, making you squirm. Your hands clutch together at your front, feebly hiding your penis from view.

“S-so? What’s your point?” You glowered at him suspiciously, trembling with a mix of anxiety and confusion. You can’t help it. You’ve never gone this long talking to someone. It feels weird, but mostly dreadful. Stumbling over your words like a toddler is embarrassing, but they flow out faster than your thoughts can form.

Doesn’t help that your ass is bared too.

“My point is,” Leon rolled his eyes subtly, “you owe me.”

You squint your eyes. What?

“What? Owe you?”

“Owe me.” Leon confirmed with a nod.

Clearing your throat dryly, you lick your lips nervously.

“Okay,” Deep breaths, now, “owe you wh-what, exactly?”

Leon pauses, eyes glancing away for a moment before returning to yours.

“Dunno,” He shrugs. “That’s for me to worry about.”

Another pang of annoyance hits you, but this time it’s mixed with worry, making your chest tighten.

“Well then, are you going to help me or not?” You scowl. It’s unreasonably cold in the bathroom, the lack of warmth making you feel out of place. It feels like you’re talking to a stranger, and technically you are. Still, the only reason you can’t seem to figure anything out about Leon over a shallow level is because he’s annoyingly boring. Stupidly enigmatic; not in a cool way. Yeah, he’s popular in his little group of friends and what not, but that’s all he has going for him. He’s not interesting in the slightest.

Leon’s quiet for a moment, before vaguely gesturing to your top with a hand.

“Go on, get naked.”

“Excuse me?” You narrow your eyes.

“You know what I meant,” Leon counters, rolling his eyes openly now. “You act like I wanna gawk at you or something,” He scoffs, “what’s there to look at, huh?”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks, but you don’t give him the satisfaction of a response, simply grumbling under your breath, hands moving to take your top off.

You throw the shirt down onto the pile of dirty clothes bunched together on the floor, eyes briefly lingering on the graphic design plastered on the front of it. Naked now, you turn and fumble with the shower curtain, pulling it back.

Leon approaches as you step in, reaching for the soap inside the shower caddy.

“What are you doing?” You chew on your bottom lip, tired of asking questions but unable to help the gnawing anxiety strumming through your ribs.

“Helping.” Leon simply states, taking off his jacket and hanging it beside the fresh towels. His biceps flex with every movement he makes, the muscles in his arms well-sculpted. The sight makes you frown, but you have no one but yourself to blame for not having a good physique.

You don’t question further; you don’t want to. All of the previous adrenaline has washed down, leaving exhaustion in its wake. With a quiet hum, you turn on the water, wincing at the cold spray that hits you.

Cursing under your breath, you mess around with the handles until you have a decent temperature, sighing in relief. Despite the uncomfortableness of being thrust into all of this, Leon seems to be taking it well, and that concerns you. What if he’s plotting something? What if you’re put in a stockade tomorrow for people to throw tomatoes at and sodomize?

Well, whatever. He probably has his embarrassing reasons. Any consequences are a problem for future you.

Cold hands make contact with your back, making you squirm. Despite the roughness of his skin, Leon is surprisingly gentle with you, the rough material of a washing rag delicately rubbing against your shoulders making you shiver. The soap smells good, at least. Like pine and some other fresh scent you couldn’t depict. Maybe it’s Irish.

Many thoughts run through your mind, most of them nonsensical and humiliating. Here you are, awkwardly standing still like a loser while your stepbrother helps wash you as if you were a vegetable. The way he touches you is oddly intimate. His hands brush against sensitive spots every few minutes or so, making you shudder.

But it feels nice, you suppose.

It’s nice to feel clean and not be covered with piss.

You close your eyes, tense muscles starting to relax. Leon notices, his hands now lathering shampoo in your hair.

“…you’re a weird one, you know?” He mutters.

You only hum. Yeah, so? He’s weird too. He’s weird for actually helping you out and cleaning your piss puddle off of the floor. And for… whatever this is. It’s definitely not a normal stepbrother activity, that you know. It feels kind of dirty, but the contact feels nice. Nice enough to make you almost melt into the touch. He doesn’t have the right to call you weird, but neither do you.

A hand splays on your chest, lightly squeezing one of your pecs.

Jolting, your eyes snap open. Inching away from the touch, you frown.

“I’m not a girl, pervert.”

“Could have fooled me.” Leon snarked bluntly, squeezing once more. This time he did it apprehensively, as if unsure of what he was doing.

At least he has the decency to properly clean you, thorough in where he reaches. He passes the rag all over your body, down your chest and in between your legs.

A weird flutter settles in your chest, pooling down to your belly. It’s not a special one or anything, it just feels weird. Not bad, not good. Just different. Letting out a shuddered breath, you grumble.

“Just help me to my room already.”

And Leon does. He rinses the suds off of you and drains the water, halfheartedly wrapping a towel around your frame before assisting you out of the shower. He half leads half carries (but mostly carries) you to your room, his body flush against yours, occasionally bumping into you. Something hard pokes at your butt, and you know what it is, but you don’t say anything. Your increase in heart rate does though.

Leon makes you feel small, you figured. He’s not mean to you or demanding, but something about his attentive behavior makes you bashful. It unfortunately makes you want more. Maybe there’s something wrong with you. Maybe mom and dad didn’t love you like you wanted them to. Leon doesn’t either, but this is fine. Any attention is good attention, as long as you can handle it without pissing yourself.

You’re pathetic for that, you know. You’re no bark and no bite, the worst of both worlds.

A towel ruffles your hair, interrupting your thoughts. Face scrunching up, you huff, withstanding the process as best as you could.

“Cold?” Leon asks gruffly, wrapping the towel he was using on your hair around your shoulders, accompanying the other one. It’s wet, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“Yeah,” You mumble, feeling shy. You’re trying your best to stay strong and confident, but the more the spotlight rests on you, the more vulnerable you feel.

Staring down at your lap, you fiddle with the towels surrounding you, trying not to pay attention to the weight of the spot beside you sagging, Leon’s body warm against your side. It’s odd, you think. His body is warm, but his hands are always cold.

He scoots closer, pausing for a moment when he’s flush against you, hesitating.

The tip of his nose presses against the top of your head, inhaling deeply. You shudder, but don’t move. Leon wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you both back into the bed.

“Smells nice,” He sighs, nosing the crook of your neck. The towels around you loosen their grasp, threatening to expose you completely. He doesn’t seem keen on releasing you any time soon, his movements slow but purposeful, curious. “Better than the pee smell.”

A soft noise escapes you, squirming slightly. “What’s up with you?…” You ask quietly, embarrassed. You know, yeah. He’s hard against your hip, pressing his crotch into you. Has he been hard the entire time? You wouldn’t know that, it’s not like you stare at his crotch 24/7. You know he’s hard right now, but you don’t know why.

“Dunno,” He says, holding you tightly against his chest, face pressing into your throat, “just like how you looked.”

You hum confusedly, an imploring look on your face.

“You know,” He groans, “the stupid look on your face. The one that looks like you got scared shitless. Like when you pissed yourself.”

That doesn’t make any sense, but okay. You don’t question his psyche.

You loll your head back, letting out a small breath. Like a fish on a hook, Leon’s reeled in immediately, his lips planting against the exposed flesh of your neck. He doesn’t kiss though, not yet. He rubs his face against you, like a cat claiming territory or a dog showing affection.

His hand finds your chest, squeezing just like he did at the shower. It makes you furrow your brows in displeasure, chewing on your bottom lip. “Don’t— that’s…” you grunt, “that’s for girls.”

“Feels like a girl’s tits to me,” Leon huffed snidely, ignoring your words and squeezing again. His fingers pinch your nipple lightly, toying with the bud.

His other hand snakes down your body, splaying out over your tummy. “Are all boys this soft?” He hums against your Adam's apple, finally using his lips to kiss at the spot. You mewl, slightly disoriented.

“No…” You close your eyes, “I don’t know… don’t you?”

“I’m not gay.”

You roll your eyes at that, pushing back against the mattress to get comfy.

“Me neither.”

The hand on your tummy trails down, fingers teasing your pubic region. You grunt, thighs spreading a little, a silent invitation. Your heart is pounding against your chest and your skin feels clammy, but this is the most attention you’ve had in days that isn’t coming from yourself.

Sighing heavily, you push your chest into the hand playing with it, feeling impatient.

“Leon…” You sigh again, agitation behind it.

Leon gives in, cupping your cock and balls in his free hand in one go, squeezing gently. He feels you up for a hot minute, grabbing you in his fist and starting to rub the length slowly.

You buck your hips slightly, moaning. The dual stimulation makes you feel all tingly, brain fuzzy with pleasant static. It’s nice enough to make you forget a thing or two, but Leon is being annoyingly slow. Not that you’d vocally complain.

He keeps his face buried in your neck, occasionally pecking at your skin or licking a sensitive spot. The heat of his breath against your already warm flesh makes you sweat. Uncomfortable, you tilt your head to the side.

Leon decides he can’t multitask, removing the hand on your chest to instead use it to tilt your head back to face him, his lips leaving your neck to kiss you on the corner of your mouth.

He pecks and kisses wantonly, but it’s nothing special. You move your mouth to his deliberately, pressing further for a deeper kiss. Leon’s a bit put off by the action, but he follows your lead, soon taking over by slotting his tongue into your mouth, slipping it through your parted lips.

Eyes drooping, you sigh into his mouth, suckling on the wet muscle lazily. Squeezing your thighs together subconsciously, you shudder at the amount of precum that has oozed from your tip to your balls, inner thighs sticky and wet. All this rubbing and squeezing is doing nothing for you, so you whine into Leon’s mouth.

He squeezes your dick in response, making you buck your hips again. But it’s not enough. Too little, too slow.

Panting, you pull back from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

“Leon—“

His lips come crashing down into yours again, silencing you. Only making a soft noise of complaint, you go back to suckling on his tongue, pacified. Some part of you wonders if that’s how he jerks off his own cock. It would explain a lot, somehow.

Despite the slow pace, the squeezing and rubbing is a surprisingly nice change from the usual fast pumping you tend to do. It’s not much, but the more Leon does it, the more each squeeze is accompanied by a surge of pleasure, an exciting buzz settling in your tummy.

You start panting, whimpering softly now. Leon catches onto your oncoming orgasm pretty quickly, increasing the pressure in some of the contact while continuing to lick into your mouth all nastily. It’s sloppy and gross, the way you exchange saliva and spit with a man supposed to be your stepbrother. You couldn’t imagine anyone else doing this with you, though.

The lack of oxygen makes you dizzy, but that’s a nice addition to the flurry of sensations strumming through you right now. Moaning, you wrap your arms around Leon, clinging onto him tightly.

He bumps and grinds his cock against your hip, precum staining the front of his pants. He doesn’t seem to be in a rush to fuck you though, content with dry humping your leg like a sniveling chihuahua.

Another squeeze on your cock and the coil snaps without warning, leaving you gasping and moaning into Leon’s mouth while cum spurts out your slit in ropes, each one landing on your tummy.

Leon groans, his lips pressing against yours hard enough to bruise, his hips stuttering against your leg. He humps the last of his own orgasm into you, shuddering as cum seeps through his underwear and onto your skin, the fluid sticky and warm.

Parting from the kiss, you mewl, eyes glazed over with ecstasy and body trembling with delight. For once, the silence with another person is enjoyable, and you couldn’t care less about anything else that has happened today. At least, not at the moment.

You dread the moment you’ll have to talk about what you just did, but right now you’re content. Glancing over at Leon, you worry a little, hoping he didn’t just wanna pump one and dump you to the side. You expected it, but that didn’t particularly mean you wanted it to happen.

He turns his head to look at you, and you frown a little, anxious as to what the expression on his face could mean. He looks like he doesn’t like anything all the time, and it’s stressful.

The look in his eyes is complicated, but you don’t have time to contemplate it. He ducks his head and steals another kiss from you, nipping your bottom lip lightly. You could jump for joy.

“Remember,” He mumbles against your lips, “you still owe me.”

You blink. You would’ve thought that this was what Leon wanted to get from you, but maybe you were wrong. You don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

“I thought this was?…” You ask confusedly, trailing off.

“Nah,” Leon hums. “this was…” he thinks for a moment, “a tester. Y’know, like tryouts.”

“For what?” You squint, licking your lips and tasting the slight metallic tang from the nip.

Leon shrugs. He’s unsure of what he really wants here— with you, that is. He doesn’t want to think about it, not when all he wants to do is rest in post-orgasmic haze.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He asks instead, eyes examining your face, trying to get a read of your expression.

You think for a moment, before mirroring his shrug.

“No, not really.”

[ranger-elizabeth]

So, I don’t think I’m dying, or anything, and it’s probably not that serious, but... I’m kinda bleeding. A lot.

Lol this one's a bit of a mess, but these prompts are great because they make me write things outside of what I would usually do! Have a fun little post-war domestic Clegan for your Wednesday night :) Thanks for the ask anon! I hope you enjoy it.

Prompt: "So I don't think I'm dying, or anything, and it's probably not that serious, but... I'm kinda bleeding. A lot."

Word count: 892

After dismissing his undergraduate class for the day, Gale begins the ritual of packing his materials into his worn leather bag when his doctoral supervisor pokes his head into the classroom.

“Gale, there’s a phone call for you in the main office. Seems urgent.”

A jolt of anxiety shoots through Gale. No one ever calls him at the school. Hastily, he crams the remaining papers into his bag, for once not caring if they crease. He hurries to the office where the secretary nods towards the phone, prompting him to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Buck,” John’s voice comes through the receiver, steady yet tinged with a slight urgency that spikes Gale’s panic. His hand grips the phone tighter, knuckles turning white.

“What’s wrong?” Gale cuts straight to the point.

“So, I don’t think I’m dying, or anything, and it’s probably not that serious, but... I’m kinda bleeding. A lot,” John says.

“What?” Gale’s voice rises in anxiety, drawing a concerned glance from the secretary. He winces, trying to soften his volume when he speaks again. “Bucky, what the hell happened?” 

“Cut my hand by accident. Tried to stop the bleeding but it won’t quit. I think I might need stitches, and I would drive myself but you’ve got the truck,” John explains, sounding impossibly calm.

Gale’s racing heart steadies slightly, reassured that John isn’t actively dying, but the thought of him alone at home with a profusely bleeding hand still unsettles him.

“Jesus, okay. I’m leaving right now. Just… keep putting pressure on it and don’t bleed out before I get there,” Gale says, running an anxious hand through his hair.

“Don’t count on it,” John teases lightly.

“Not funny, Bucky,” Gale huffs. “See you soon.”

Replacing the receiver, Gale stumbles out a hurried explanation for his abrupt departure, then practically sprints from the building to the parking lot. He drives well above the speed limit, exhaling in relief when he finally pulls into their driveway and sees John sitting on the porch. He’s got a rag wrapped around his left hand that looks far too blood-soaked for Gale’s liking. 

Once the truck stops, John stands and makes his way to the passenger seat, greeting Gale cheerfully despite the circumstances. Gale’s glad John’s so calm, a stark contrast to his own internal worry. Of course, they’ve both seen worse injuries during their time together, but Gale thought they had left such emergencies behind with the end of their service.

“You doing okay?” Gale asks, reaching over John to secure his seatbelt for him, considering his hands are a bit full at the moment. As soon as it’s done, he throws the truck in reverse, backing out of the driveway to head for the hospital.

“I’m fine, Buck. It’s barely a scratch,” John reassures him with his usual bravado.

“Right. A scratch that had you calling me at work to come drive you to get stitches. No big deal,” Gale retorts, rolling his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” John says quietly, sounding slightly chastened.

“Hey, no. I’m glad you called,” Gale hurries to reassure him. “Just scared me, is all. Never gotten an ‘urgent’ phone call to the main office before.”

At the hospital, John receives eight stitches across his palm. Gale stays by his side throughout, John gripping his arm tightly during the more painful moments. As he works, the doctor questions the nature of the accident, and John reveals that he accidently cut himself while handling a knife. Then, he wraps John’s hand and assures him he’ll be right as rain in a couple of weeks.

Driving them back home, Gale can’t help but ask, “So, what exactly happened? I thought you knew your way around a knife without almost chopping your hand off.”

John looks sheepish, fidgeting in his seat. “I uh, tried cooking us dinner.”

Gale arches an eyebrow. When they had moved in together, it quickly became evident that John’s culinary skills were severely lacking. After a series of less-than-successful attempts, they had mutually agreed that cooking would be Gale’s domain.

“Okay,” Gale says slowly, confused.

“Did you realize it’s been a year since we’ve been home? Since we moved in together?” John asks suddenly, his tone softer. 

Gale’s heart warms, the pieces beginning to fall into place in his mind. John’s next words confirm his suspicions.

“I just wanted to do something special for you, especially since you had to work all day. I’m just sorry it ended with you driving me to the hospital,” John sighs, his voice tinged with regret.

Gale smiles warmly at him. “Well, you know what they say. It’s the thought that counts, right?” 

John huffs out a laugh, leaning his head back against the headrest, shaking it in amusement at the entire situation. “I guess so.”

“Anyway,” Gale continues playfully, extending his arm over the console to rest a warm hand on John’s thigh. “I can think of plenty of other ways you can make it up to me once we get home.” 

The implication catches John’s attention immediately, prompting him to sit up straight in his seat. He raises an eyebrow at Gale. “Oh, is that so?” he replies, his tone teasing in return.

Gale simply keeps his eyes on the road, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

“Hey, Buck?” John says suddenly, causing Gale to glance over at him curiously.

"Yeah, Bucky?"

“Drive faster.”

[xmasterofmunsonx]

Got Your Number

Summary: You’re Steve Harrington’s older sister and after a rough and tumultuous breakup, you’re back in Hawkins, Indiana. 🌶️

Pairing: Harrington!reader x Eddie Munson

Author’s notes: I REALLY tried hard to make this one into two, but it just started flowing and I felt like it made more sense like this. I know it’s a lot going on but I don’t know I couldn’t stop. Hope y’all like it ❤️

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI!!), language, drinking, smoking, smut, etc., anxious feelings talked about a lot

Word count: 9.5k and I am not sorry LOL

VI.

The shrill sound of the phone in your bedroom woke you up the next morning. You groaned as the light peeked through the pink curtains that had hung over the same windows for most of your life. You let it ring, and ring, and ring. Finally it stopped. Then it started again. Everyone must be gone for the day.

“Harrington residence?” You asked, sleep thick in your voice. You drank a sip of water as you waited for the caller to finally reveal themselves.

“Hey.” It was Eddie, and he sounded rough. “Good morning, I mean. Or, whatever time it is.” He chuckled, but you didn’t return the laughter.

“‘Morning.” You said, as you plopped back onto your bed, twirling the cord around your finger.

“I’m really sorry about last night. Like, incredibly sorry. Your brother laid into me last night and Hopper has already called me this morning too.”

“Oh, so you wouldn’t have apologized if Steve and Hopper wouldn’t have made you?” Your attitude was strong this morning, and you already knew you’d regret being this bitchy to him as soon as you asked the question.

“They didn’t make me, Jesus. I’m just admitting I know I was an asshole to you, I got way too drunk last night, and I can’t believe I did that instead of worrying about where you were and what was going on with you and Caleb out there. M’sorry. I really am.”

“It’s not okay, Eddie. If that’s what you want me to say.” He sighed at the same time you did. “I don't think you get how scary last night was for me. Having not only Charlie there, but all of his friends too? They could’ve all easily taken me off and something would’ve happened.”

“I said I was sorry.” He said, his voice was quick.

“And I’m saying okay, I hear you, but I don’t know what you want me to say back, Eddie. I’m pissed off that you were so irresponsible.”

“Thanks for the congratulations on being asked to sign to a label.” He scoffed out after a few moments of silence.

“Fuck, what has gotten into you? Where is this attitude coming from?” You snapped at him as you sat up in your bed. “Did you just call me to see how mad you could make me again today? This is not what I signed up for, Eddie.”

“What do you think you signed up for, then?”

“A nice boyfriend for one. One that was my best friend, and he was never mean to me, or-”

“What about all of those times in high school-”

“FUCK, Eddie. It’s too early for this bullshit. I’m hanging up, and whenever you can figure out what the hell crawled up your ass, then we can talk. Bye.”

Fuck, you didn’t know what had gotten into him. A few seconds after you hung up the phone, it rang again.

“What?!?” You answered.

“You are just like your brother with the attitude, damn.” It was Dustin, you could tell by the slight lisp in his voice.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Eddie just called me and he was… he was being a jerk, so I thought it was him calling me back yet again.”

“No, it’s just me. I was calling you because I think we figured something out with him.”

“Is he gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. We actually called the lab, or what’s left, and told them what was going on. He just needs to go and uh, talk to them about it. El said she can’t see where anything is like…” he laughed to himself before continuing on, “I sound crazy saying this, but there’s nothing in his head that we should worry about. Like before, Vecna kinda got in peoples heads before he’d kill them or something but she can’t see him in Eddie’s, so he’s really dead. She said she used her powers last night, and she can kind of… eavesdrop in on dreams or something basically, and she was there in his last night to check on him and uh, it was pretty fucked up.”

You stayed silent for a few moments, “so the scars hurting don’t mean anything?”

“No, they’re probably just healing still, and the dreams are so intense he’s probably re-feeling it all again too.”

Shit. You kinda, actually sorta felt really bad for him now. He was probably worked up this morning more from his dreams than anything else, and you didn’t even think about that, but he still didn’t need to be an asshole to you.

“Hey Dustin, I need to go. Thanks for calling, I’m sure I’ll see you soon!” You hung up before you had a chance to hear him get out the last few words. You dialed Eddie’s number, and he picked up on the second ring, sounding much calmer.

“Hello? Munson here.”

“Hey.” You said quietly.

“Hey.” He matched your tone of voice.

“Sorry, I forgot how bad mornings can be for you and I’m sure-”

“No, you don’t have to apologize. Please don’t. I was an asshole right after I told you I wasn’t like him. I did have a bad night but I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. Sometimes I wake up from a nightmare and because of the panic I can act completely differently. I’m sorry if that scared you.” He sounded a little somber. “I understand if you’re mad at me.”

“I’ll get over it.” You laid back on the pillows of your bed again, and stared up at the popcorn ceiling of your room, trying to count the dots. “Wanna tell me about it as practice before you go talk to them?”

“So Dustin already called you too?”

“Mhm. I think you should go.”

“I’m going to when I have the time. I’m not up for talking about it right now.”

You respected his decision but you knew he had to talk about it eventually. “Alright. So tell me about this record deal?”

He went on and on for god knows how long about everything that had transpired the previous night, about their first album being recorded in the city, about a first tour as an opening band, and about how long the contract would last for- and what quota they had to fulfill in those years.

“You know, I did do some law stuff in college, only majored in it, and I’m being forced to work at my dad’s law office starting tomorrow, right? I wouldn’t mind combing through the contract for any small print you might have missed or been upset with. Even my dad or one of his coworkers could look it over.”

“See, I was drunk last night but I wasn’t that drunk. I did remember that, and none of us technically signed anything, I told him to come back in a few weeks. So I wasn’t completely blitzed out of my mind, we didn’t really sign anything but we were likely going to.” A deep chuckle came through the phone and you felt a swirl in your belly at the noise. “So, you gonna come with me?”

“Come with you… where?”

“To the city, on tour- everywhere. I don’t wanna leave you behind.” He was as serious as a heart attack and you knew it.

“Don’t you think this might be a little soon?” Everything seemed to be going fast paced in the last week, when you were the one who wanted to take things slow to not fuck it up. “I don’t know if I can go back to the city, Eddie. It’s too much for me. I could see him anywhere-”

“Baby, it’s Indianapolis, not Chicago.”

Oh, fuck. What would you do, surely you’d get cut off from your parents. There’s absolutely no way they’d be ok with this, tarnishing the Harrington name after you already fucked it up by breaking things off with Charlie. They’d surely disown you.

“You there?” Eddie sounded concerned.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here. I’m just, it’s a lot to ask, Eddie. I’m going to have to think about it.”

“Well, I’ve gotta run this contract over to you today so you can take it to work tomorrow, or I could pick you up in the morning and take you to work?” He had a glimmer of hope in his voice. “This kinda thing usually takes a few months he said, so it’s not like I’m going anywhere soon.”

“How about you come pick me up today, and take me to work in the morning?”

He excitedly answered, smiling through the phone “Really? You don’t hate me?”

“No I don’t, but I do want to see you before I start this boring desk 9-5 job.”

“See you in an hour?”

“See you then.” You both hung up the phone, and you made your way downstairs where there were Sunday breakfast leftovers on the counter left for you. Your parents had left a note, “running errands for the day, be back tonight.” You rolled your eyes at their absence, yet again. You knew your dad had a business trip again next week, so that’s probably why he wanted you to start this week to get trained.

“You look rough.” Steve shocked you as he came up behind you, his bed head was more wild than you’d ever seen.

“Same goes for you. Why didn’t you answer the phone ringing earlier? Thought I was home alone.”

“Not so lucky. I unplug mine when I’m sleeping, so I didn’t even hear it. Your elephant stomping down the stairs woke me up more than anything.”

You rolled your eyes as you bit into a piece of crispy bacon.

“Eddie called and apologized this morning. Said he’d come over here soon to get me and I’m gonna stay with him tonight, then he’ll take me to work in the morning.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, “Listen, I know you’re my older sister, and I know you two have been, or were friends forever, but do you think this is going too fast? Don’t you need, need some time maybe?”

You furrowed your brows at your brother, “I think that’s none of your business, but thank you for the concern. We’re just spending time together.”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re over there all the time already and it’s barely been any time at all.”

“And? You can go around on dates every weekend and sleep with a different girl and no one bats an eye? Where’s this coming from? I’m the one on my period right now, I didn’t know you and Eddie had synced up too.”

“I’m sorry. Just trying to look out for both of you.” You both picked at the breakfast quietly, avoiding each other's glares. “Gonna go shower and get ready before he gets here.”

“Mhm.” Steve said with his mouth full of pancakes.

-

“So Stevie thinks we’re going too fast?” Eddie asked in a taunting voice as he handed you the joint as you swung together on the back porch swing.

“Guess so. Because he knows so much about successful relationships.”

“You think so too though, because you said you wouldn’t-”

You playfully put your hand on his mouth to shut him up, “Please. We’re having a good afternoon. I don’t wanna talk about this yet.” He watched you through squinted eyes as you took a hit off the joint and held it in your lungs for an impressive amount of time, then passed it back to him.

“So what do you wanna talk about?” Eddie leaned in closer to your side and slipped his arm around your shoulders, and you felt cozy enough to lean into him.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? There you go again with that cute little, ‘nothing.’” He mocked your tone with a high pitched voice, which earned him a light slap on the chest. “Hey, watch it. I’m healing wounds under here- don’t make them bleed again.”

“Eddie, they’re scars, not scabs.” You rolled your eyes as he held the joint up to your lips again, and you took another hit, doing the same as you did earlier. “I’m good after that one.”

“Yeah? You feeling good?” His voice was warm in your ear, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body.

“Mhm.” You answered and closed your eyes, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. “Really good.”

“Really wanna make you feel good again, baby.” He was rubbing his other hand on your thigh, and with each up and down motion he was getting closer and closer to your heat.

“Eddie, I-”

“There’s other things we can do.”

“What? I’ll make a mess.”

“I don’t mind a mess, but I have an idea.” He said with a smirk in his voice. You opened your eyes and looked at him, he was already looking down at you, his hand had stopped moving and was now resting high up on your thigh. It crept to the inside, and you felt yourself squeezing your legs together to keep him from feeling anything more. “Relax.” He smashed out the joint and stood up, offering you his hand. “C’mon. My room.”

“Nu-uh.” You shook your head, and crossed your arms over your chest.

He leaned down to meet your face, his eyes were a little bloodshot from the extra hits he’d taken between your few, his tolerance being higher than yours. “Wanna be my good girl?” You felt your stomach drop, and your body turning to complete goo at his words. “Or am I gonna have to pick you up and carry you? ‘Cause I’m gonna get you there one way or another, baby.”

You took his extended hand and pulled yourself up as best as you could, your knees already feeling weak at just his words.

You’d never been much of a girl for dirty talk in the bedroom, or at all. But your experience was limited, and it was a little intimidating that Eddie was clearly somehow more experienced in this department than you. He knew the words to say, and how to say them, and it made you wonder who, how, and-

“Hey, pretty girl. Get out of that head of yours. I can hear you thinking. Anything you don’t wanna do, just say it and we’ll stop.” You’d made it to his bedroom now, and he had his hands resting gently on your shoulders.

“Okay.” You said quietly.

“Now, I asked you out there-” He took a step closer to you, and put his heavy pointer finger under your chin and lifted your gaze to meet his, “are you gonna be my good girl?” You nodded, actually stunned at the effect that his words had on you. He slung his jacket off his shoulders, and pulled his shirt off. You quietly gasped at seeing the scars all over his muscular back, shoulders, his chest and stomach as he turned around to meet you. Your fingers reached out to trace the pink lines mapped out over his abdomen, and he reached up to pull your hand away.

“Eddie, I’m sorry-”

“I figured you gotta see them soon enough. We’ll work our way there. Take off your top, baby.” His fingers danced at the hem of your ribbed black t-shirt. He slowly teased his way up your body with the shirt until he pulled it up and over your head. “No bra? Not what I expected from you, Harrington.” He started kissing your neck with excitement as his cold hands were snaking their way up your sides, and he paused, “you sure you’re okay? I know you said you hadn’t done much with him, or anyone else. Just please stop me-”

“Eddie, just shut the fuck up and kiss me.” You lunged at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and he pulled your body close to his. Your bare skin colliding with his felt so good, but it was so different than what you were used to. You felt your nipples harden at the arousal that was pooling in your belly again, and it peaked again when Eddie was already moaning into your kisses. One of his hands slid up your side, to the front of your ribcage where he finally cupped your breast in his hand.

You both moaned at the feeling, “fuck, your tits feel so good.” He kneaded at it with fervor, and moved on to pinching your nipple. You moaned out again, breaking the kiss. “You like that, baby?”

All you could get out was a nod, you’d never had your tits played with before now by someone else. “Get on the bed, and get those jeans off- just the jeans.” You scooted out of your jeans, and sat on his bed, watching him slowly prowl over to you. “Lay back.” You scooted back and rested your head on his pillows as you anxiously watched him crawl over you to meet you, he leaned in and kissed you again, this time it was hungrier, sloppier, and his hand was more rough as it groped your chest. He broke the kiss to attack your neck, then your collarbones, and then he finally put his mouth on one of your nipples. He sucked it into his warm, heated mouth and you felt his tongue rolling around your nipple, causing your back to arch. He pulled off with a smile on his face, then blew air into the wet tit and you watched as your nipple became more hard.

“Fuck, that feels good.” You moaned out softly, and you watched as he went down on the other one, still playing with the first so it wasn’t ignored. You watched him go back and forth between the two for a few minutes, and clearly Eddie could’ve spent half the day with your tits in his mouth but you were growing anxious to get off. You tugged his hair to get him to meet your face, pushing up off the pillows to kiss him deeply again.

“Want you to try something new for me, ‘kay? Since you’re on the rag and all. I’d fuck you right now no problem, but I know you’re a little shy about it, aren’t you?”

You blushed and nodded, “yeah, I’ll try something new.”

“M’gonna sit on the edge of the bed and want you to straddle my thigh. Just one.” And he scooted down to the foot of the bed, and helped you climb onto his thigh- he was still in his black jeans. “Sit down harder, baby. Remember you’re gonna be my good girl, right? Want you to use me. Use my thigh to get yourself off.”

“H-how?” You asked, feeling silly for being in your underwear, straddling your boyfriends leg.

“Shit, you never done this before? Not even with a pillow?” You shook your head, and Eddie placed his hands on your hips. “Just grind on me baby. Back and forth. Whatever feels good, I got you.”

You nodded and started moving against his thigh, feeling the thick fabric rub your cunt in the right ways.

“Fuck, why have I never done this before?” You rolled your head back with your eyes as you rode Eddie’s thigh, stabilizing yourself on his shoulders. His mouth was roaming your upper body, likely leaving hickies everywhere. Your high was making this feel so much better, and you could already feel yourself close to the edge.

“Feel good?” Eddie asked, his lips still moving over your body, kissing and tasting anywhere he could get his mouth on. You nodded and moaned, unable to say anything. “That's my good girl, use my leg to make yourself cum, baby.” You ground yourself harder against the rough fabric and squeezed your thighs closer to his leg to chase your orgasm.

“Fuck!” You yelled as you came undone on his leg, your chest heaving, and your head tucked into the side crook of his neck, where his curls were tickling your face. “How do you know so much?”

“I’ve seen a lotta porn, babe. Your brother works at-”

“Christ, Eddie. I don’t need to know that you rent porn from my brother. Why the fuck does family video have an adult only section?” You earned a chuckle from Eddie as you absentmindedly twirled your fingers through his hair. “I feel so silly about anything like this because everything I’ve ever done before was just… for him. Never about me, never what I wanted, when I wanted, and-”

“And, that’s fucking pathetic. You should have been treated better than that. Your body? I wanna worship every inch of it, your skin is so soft, you’re so beautiful, and I want you to know that.” You were blushing as his hands were still roaming your body.

“Do you want me to, you know, help you?”

“Nah, you don’t have to. I don’t ever expect anything from you.” He smiled and you could feel it as he kissed the top of your shoulder.

-

A few hours later you found yourself sitting at the Munson kitchen table, reading over the rough draft of a contract Eddie had remembered to grab and put in his pocket from the show, while he was down the hall practicing guitar. You took another sip of the cold coffee as you read through the extensive stipulations.

“Hey, Eddie?” You called out. “Eddie?” You said a little louder, and he must have heard you. He came around the corner in his holey jeans, and a loose Iron Maiden t-shirt that had seen better days.

“Yeah?” The look on his face only made you realize how hard it was going to be to break the news.

“I uh, do you mind if I take this with me tomorrow? There’s a few things that I want to get checked out by one of dad’s guys. I just don’t understand this level of l legal talk, and I don’t want you signing something away that you don’t want to.”

You watched his face fall slowly. “Yeah, I think that’s probably for the best. Does it look good to you?”

“Some of it does, but I’m not sure about some of it. You have to be really careful with these lengthy contracts. Sometimes they can really screw you over, and it seems like some statements are negating other things.”

He nodded slowly, scratching at his chin. “You don’t think we should sign it, do you?”

“I’m not saying that exactly, I’m just saying I think it needs to be read through by someone smarter than me who knows more about how this works.” You gestured to the papers in front of you. “I mean, really, this guy just came out of nowhere to find you guys. He could be a total fraud.”

“What do we have to lose though?” He walked closer, leaning against the kitchen counter closest to you.

“A lot. I mean, it says if you don’t fulfill a certain amount of record sales- which, I fully believe you’re capable of- you could owe them a lot of money. Or if you don’t sell a percentage of tickets, they can break the contract. But here, it says-”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” He put his chin in his hand and rested it there, his dark eyes looking at you. “I’m glad you’re smarter than me.”

“I’m not, I just spent years of my life studying this and figuring out how people word these to trick people who haven’t spent years of their life studying.”

“You’ve always been the smart one. Top of the class, you’re the real nerd.” He smiled, slowly walking towards you. “Your campaigns always, always were better than mine.”

“I mean, absolutely they were. But I don’t know about now.”

“Hold on.” Eddie held up a finger and ran out of the kitchen, down the hallway. You heard some rustling and pushed the contract out of your way, your eyes hurting from the small print. “Here.” He said as he plopped the book down on the table.

Your book. Your book from middle school, at that.

“Eddie, how- how do you have this? Did it not get ruined when you lost yours and Wayne’s house?” You ran your fingers over the cover, before you opened it up, immediately recognizing your own handwriting, paired with Eddie’s chicken scratch of notes. “And wait- did you use some of my campaigns?”

“Just a few. Just the good ones, I saved the best ones for when you came back.”

“What if I never did?” You looked up at him as he was beaming a smile at you.

“Somehow I always knew you would.”

-

“Scott, would you mind looking over a few things on this for me?” You walked into your dad’s employee’s office. He was always your favorite of your dad’s friends, he’d seen you and Steve grow up. Scott didn’t have a family of his own at all, so he was present at a lot of your family’s parties and events. He was like a second dad, but a cooler one.

“Sure thing, just shut the door and have a seat. I could use a break from the woes of the Hawkins community. What do we have?”

“So, Eddie, my boyfriend, has been playing in his band for a while-”

“Wait, like, Eddie Munson? Like, devil worshipping, town killer, etc?”

“Yes, that one.” This was not what you expected, or wanted when you came into his office today.

“Oh God, I know your mom loves this. I always told your dad the two of you were gonna be somethin’ one day.”

You blushed, but continued on, “So, at their show the other night this guy approached them with his record label from Chicago. He had a contract ready to go and I’ve looked over it, and some things just don’t seem right. I highlighted everything I questioned but there may be more, and I just needed another opinion about it.”

“Let me see here.” He sat back in his leather desk chair and put his glasses on. You noticed the way his hair had grayed since you’d last seen him, the way his eyes and mouth had crinkled more from the smiling faces you remember him always making. “Your brother doing good?”

“Yeah, he’s doing alright.”

“Glad to be back here?” He asked as he kept reading over the papers.

“Could be worse.”

“I hear ya.” He nodded, reading through the pages. You sat at his desk, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. “Can you give me the rest of the afternoon for this? I have the time, just don’t want you sittin’ here doing nothing. If you want, there’s some paperwork in the basement that we moved from your office down there that needs to be put into the empty file cabinets. Doris has the keys, if you just ask her for them. Your dad left a note of things for you to do today and that was one of them. By the time you get everything filed away, I should be done.”

“Yeah, I can do that. Thanks, Scott.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” You smiled at the endearing name, coming from anyone else his age it would be creepy but you knew he didn’t mean it that way.

Doris was quite the character. She’d worked as the front desk secretary for the entire time your dad’s firm had been opened. She took her job way too seriously, and she didn’t like many people. But you and your brother just so happened to be two of her favorite people.

“Oh sure, here’s the keys! I’m just so glad you’ll be working with us. Your dad is so proud of you for coming home and working under the family name, you know that?” You shrugged and held back an eye roll. “You remember what door it is, right?”

“Of course. Thanks, Mrs. Doris.” You grabbed the keys from her and rolled your eyes as you walked away, remembering how she used to gloat over your brother anytime she got the chance to, and now she was doing it to you.

You turned the key to the door and went down the stairs, into the well lit basement. It smelled the same from when you were a kid- sometimes you’d have to come up here after school, and your dad had a desk down here for you and Steve to do homework, or color when you two were younger. It would be creepy to some, but you both loved it. You didn’t have to hear your dads boring conference meetings, or him yelling at employees. It was your hiding spot and you felt safe down here.

You easily found the piles of files that were meant to be organized by you- they were stacked on your old desk and disheveled from being moved so hastily down here. You opened up the top drawer to an empty cabinet, and you got to organizing the files alphabetically. These were all of this years cases the office had dealt with, from the beginning of the year to now, and you knew they just wanted them organized by the last name.

You recognized a few of the last names, and being nosy, of course you had to browse through some. You scoffed at the DUIs, and other small “crimes” the office either handled or probably hid from the public eye, until you saw a last name that was all too familiar.

“Munson, Edward - ‘86”

Shit. Shit! What do you do? It was one of the thickest folders you’d picked up in the last hour. You knew what you should do, what was the right thing. But what had Eddie done this year that your dads lawyers would’ve been responsible for defending him for?

You carefully opened the Manila folder, and read the first line.

“Hawkins Lab (plaintiff) vs Edward Munson (defendant) 1986”

“Holy fuck.” You whispered to yourself, carefully turning the next page. “Why would they file a lawsuit against Eddie?” You whispered out loud to no one, as you continued to get through the pages. You heard the door open up the stairs, and you shoved the folder underneath the others, not wanting to put it in a cabinet yet.

“You still busy down here?” Doris asked from the third step. “It’s lunch time and you got someone askin’ to take you out to lunch.”

“What?”

“Some guy with curly hair and a jacket on. Is he trouble? Do I need to get him out of here? Is he the one your dad told me to kick out if we saw him?”

“No, no. Doris, that's Eddie, my boyfriend. Charlie’s the one we want to kick out. I’ll be right up, let me finish tidying these.”

“Oh no, you go on up there and take your lunch. You’ve been down here for about two hours already. The mess can wait.”

“I really don’t mind tidying up a bit before I go.” You told her, trying to delay her and finding a quick, more hidden spot for the files.

“Alright, I’ll tell him you’ll be up in a minute. Don’t take a minute longer!”

“Yeah, sure.” You pretended to rummage around, then grabbed the Munson file and hid it in another file cabinet that was collecting dust. Surely no one would suspect you putting it there.

You walked up the basement stairs, shutting and locking the door behind you, as you shoved the basement key into your pocket. You felt your mind spinning as you walked towards the front, unsure of whether to bring up what you found or not.

“Hey beautiful.” Eddie greeted you with a hug, kiss on the cheek, and a small bouquet of flowers in a small vase in his hand.

“Hey.” You said, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “C’mon, I’ll put these on my desk and we can go to lunch.” You pulled on his hand to tug him with you to your minimally decorated office space that screamed “temporary”.

“Oh hey, I was just looking for you!” Scott said as he walked around a corner. “And you!” He pointed at Eddie, who then pointed at himself. “You have a free minute?”

“We were about to go to lunch.” You said as you set your flowers down on your desk and picked up your purse. “Eddie, this is Scott- he’s worked with dad for forever, and I had him read over the contract from the label for you this morning. Scott, this is Eddie.” You observed the two exchanging glances at each other, then they introduced themselves. You could tell by Eddie’s faltering voice he was putting on a front- they had definitely met before. Maybe it had been a long time ago that they’d crossed paths, but you had a feeling you needed to get to that file.

“Won’t take but a minute. Have a seat.” He gestured towards the seats in your office, and you took a seat behind your desk, wanting to be able to watch the two interact.

“So uh, seems here we’ve got an entirely too controlling contract. I’ve gone through everything Harrington already combed through, added more comments, and even found a few more things. It seems to me like this guys label is pretty scummy, I don’t know that I’d take them up on this one.” You watched Eddie’s shoulders deflate as the contract was placed into his hands. “The choice is ultimately yours, but once you read through you’ll see what I’m talking about. I don’t think it’s the right one, I don’t trust that they’re not trying to take everything you guys have.” Scott eyed Eddie, waiting for him to look up at him from the paperwork.

“Well, I appreciate the time you took going through it. I’ll take it to the guys at practice tonight and we’ll talk it over to see how everyone’s feeling.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Scott stood up and patted Eddie on the shoulder, “Good to see you.”

“Yeah, nice to meet you too!” Eddie yelled back as Scott exited your office. “Pizza for lunch?”

“Sounds delicious to me.” You followed Eddie out of the office and to his van. He chucked the contract into the back of it, and you watched it fall to the floor.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked, patting his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He backed out of his parking spot and started to drive away. “How’s your first day?” Here’s your chance. Perfect time to bring it up.

“Pretty… boring.” You can’t do it. “Scott and Doris had me in the basement organizing some things that were in my office that hastily got thrown down there at some point to make my office look unoccupied. He’s got a whole list of things for me to do if I’m bored. Seems like I’m going to be doing busy work and getting paid for it.”

“That’s some shit. You’re smarter than that.” He said, resting his elbow on the window sill of his door.

“Yeah, I mean I’m sure it’ll get more interesting later. I didn’t expect to get put on any actual cases or anything, but I did expect to be doing more than coffee runs or something like that.”

“They have you running coffee?”

“Absolutely not. It’s just my first day, so I’m not really expecting much. Dad said he’d be in tomorrow morning to get me set up. I think today is just a day of busy work since I wasn’t expected to start working so soon. Or at all, even.”

“I’ve got an appointment after lunch.” Eddie blurted out.

“Yeah? Where?” You looked over at him, and he looked nervous as he bit his nails.

“You know where.”

“Oh. You’re actually going? Do you need me to go with you?”

“Steve is. He’s meeting us at lunch.” He quickly replied.

“Oh.” You said as you looked out the window. Eddie was clearly a nervous wreck, and there wasn’t much you had to say to the dull conversation. You two pulled up at the pizza place beside Steve’s car, and he hopped out at the same time you did. A fourth car door shut on the other side of you, and you were met with Jim Hopper.

“What’s going on?” You asked, suddenly confused about this lunch meeting.

“He’s coming too.” Steve spoke up, placing a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder as you guys walked into the restaurant.

The four of you sat down at a back booth, you sat across from your brother and Hopper, and Eddie sat beside you.

“So is this like, an intervention? What’s going on?” You felt even more clueless.

“They need to speak to Eddie and have questions about you, so they need you too.” Hopper said.

“What?” You said bluntly as the waitress came up to take your orders- you added on a beer to yours for your nerves.

“Yeah, apparently you’re going to have to answer a few questions since you’ve observed Eddie’s behavior with the nightmares. I’ve gotta go since he’s always calling me, and-”

“How do they know?” You interrupted your brother.

“I told them, when I called to ask them what I needed to do. Then they gave me 20 questions and I panic answered them, not knowing they’d drag you into it. Hopper is going just to make sure no funny business happens. I’m really sorry.” Eddie looked at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay. I wanted to go with you if you needed me anyway. You need to talk to someone about this. Maybe they can help you.”

Hopper scoffed. “He needs a real therapist. I’m afraid this is just going to stir some more shit up. I don’t trust these guys, even though the lab is gone. How did just enough of them just survive to stick around to make sure you kids didn’t need anything?”

You four all looked at each other, you being the most clueless of all.

“I suggest being brief. Don’t tell them anymore than they ask. Don’t tell them who you hang out with, who you see, or where you work. Especially you, Harrington.” Hopper pointed at me. “They already know your family, but they’re gonna be hounding you for all they can.”

“Why me? Why not Steve? He’s the one who went down there into their whole, alternate universe world… thing.”

“Because of your j-” Hopper started.

“Because they didn’t know he had a sister, and they thought it was weird you came back to Hawkins. They want to know what you know about it all.” Eddie cut Hopper off immediately, and you didn’t miss the look on Steve’s face. He knew something too.

You looked at Eddie, who was trying so hard to lie to you.

“Would it have to do with the huge file at my dad’s law firm labeled Hawkins Lab vs Munson? The one from, I dunno- 1986?” You shrugged, looking at the men at the table.

“Fuck, we don’t have enough time for this.” Steve ran his hands through his hair.

“So you were just going to casually leave out that dad fucking defended Eddie against the LAB?! What were they trying to say happened? Both of you- you both lied to me!” You tried not to raise your voice, and thankfully the kitchen sounds were loud enough as the lunch crowd picked up. “You could’ve told me that when you dropped the whole Hawkins-has-a-creepy-second-life-going-on-underneath-it bomb, and it would’ve been fine? But now I’m working there and these scary lab people are going to ask about it?”

“See, you don’t work there. You work at Family Video with Steve.” Hopper corrected you.

“That would’ve been nice to know!” You raised your voice again. “So what case did they bring out against Eddie?”

“I told you, I almost died down there. I did. But I came back through, and no one that ever died down there came back up to Hawkins and they created this huge case trying to make it look like I was the one who created the gates- because of the whole town freak thing, right? Believable.” He took a deep sigh, “Scott defended me. Your dad couldn’t, because it was considered a conflict of interest because they knew we used to be friends.”

“What, how did they know that?”

“They know everything. Well, they used to, they’d been watching our town and listening to everything for years before we discovered what they were really doing with their experiments. With a lot less people they’ve become a small organization, and they’re basically sticking around to see if any other activity starts to happen, and observe and be ‘helpful’ if anyone affected by the ‘earthquake’ needs help.” Steve answered.

“How can you trust them?” You asked.

“Your dad’s firm won against them in Eddie’s favor, so they’re at the mercy of him.” Jim spoke, and you looked between the three guys again, completely baffled, yet again, at how much had happened in the short time of you being back.

“I need to get some fresh air.” You pushed your way out of the booth and fled outside, forgetting your jacket at the booth. You felt yourself warming up out of rage as you walked over to the alley beside the restaurant. You grounded yourself against the cold brick wall and closed your eyes, taking a few deep breaths to avoid an anxiety attack.

“You good?” Eddie appeared out of nowhere and you jumped out of your skin.

“No, I’m not good.” You answered him as you opened your eyes. “Eddie, what the fuck?!”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Sorry for leaving out a huge, major detail, and everyone’s just been pretending since I’ve been home?! This is not okay. This is not why I came home. I came home for some normalcy, for LESS drama than I had in the city. And it’s been non-fucking-stop since I got back. I don’t know that I even had this much happen in high school.” You ran a hand through your hair nervously, “what am I supposed to do?! I can’t keep finding things out, Eddie. I can’t do this. I can’t keep on walking around on eggshells whether is your short temper, or my parents, or avoiding running into anyone from high school, or the fucking upside down bullshit!? Why is all of this happening as soon as I come home?!” You cried out to him as he stared at you with a blank face and no answers. You put your hands on his shoulders and felt yourself pushing against him. “Someone give me some fucking answers!” Eddie grabbed your hands, and you felt your body freeze. What was he about to do? He placed them gently around his neck, before he wrapped one arm, then another, around your body and slowly pulled you into him, hugging your shaking form.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, baby. I should’ve died down there. I didn’t want you dragged into this, but I let it slip on the phone this morning when I called them because I thought it was the right thing to do to get help. If I call a normal shrink, they’re gonna commit me for thinking I’m fucking insane for what I’d tell them. I can’t call anyone else. Only your family, the kids, Robin, and a few others really know what happened during the so-called earthquake, okay? We have to be so careful about this. I’m sorry.” He hugged you as he let out a cry.

“Don’t you ever say you should’ve died down there.” You muttered into his chest.

“No, I should have. I quite frankly should not have made it. They thought I was dead for the longest time, til we all started having nightmares. Then when they realized I was alive, their case was brought against me, in case the truth got out, they thought that their asses would be covered by shifting the blame to me.”

You paused. Eddie had been carrying this around too, and it didn’t excuse his actions but you could see why he’d been a little more quick tempered and anxious than usual.

“After today, can we just start over and see if things can be normal? I’m really fucking tired.”

“I’d love nothing more than that.” You wiped your tears at his response, and hugged him tighter to you. “We better get in there and eat, they’re expecting us at 1:30.” You nodded as you broke your embrace and followed him back into the restaurant.

-

Another surprise, Scott was at the Hawkins Lab offices. He gave you a sympathetic smile as your eyes met, and you all walked in together to the meeting. Turns out that it wasn’t quite as scary looking as you expected it to be inside, it looked like a normal, plain office space.

“Munson, Harrington?” A lady’s voice called from the desk. “Separate rooms, 103, 104-”

“No, they're all going to be interviewed together in the same room. I’m their lawyer, and I have to be present as well.” Scott slammed his business card down on the desk and slid it towards the lady. She eyed it, and put it back down.

“Follow me.” Okay, maybe it was a little scary. You felt a timid, clammy hand grab yours, and you looked at it to see it was your brother beside you.

“You’re good, okay?” He whispered, knowing you were the anxious one of the two of you. “Let Scott do most of the talking, only answer if you absolutely have to. If you don’t know if you should, just look at him and he’ll give you the go ahead or not.” Clearly your brother had been there before, and knew what to do with these guys.

You nodded and squeezed his hand back before dropping it to your side.

You all entered what looked like a conference room, and took your seats at a long table. Paperwork was everywhere, and you tried to see what some of it was as you walked to your seat beside Eddie, but you couldn’t make anything out.

“They’ll be in shortly.” The lady said before she walked out.

Eddie leaned in and whispered, “the whole room is mic’d up, and security cameras in every corner. Stay quiet.” You nodded and looked at him, his eyes were wide with a look in them you had never seen before.

“Hi, I’m sorry it took us a minute to get back here. I hear you’re having some nightmares, Mr. Munson?” The man quickly shut the door and sat down across the table from you.

“Yeah, they’re back.”

“Would you say they ever went away with the medications, or did they just lessen?” He flipped through some papers before looking up at Eddie.

“They never went away.” His leg was practically jumping up and down as he answered this man in a white coat.

“You didn’t check in with us for the last few months, so we’d assumed your medication dose didn’t need adjusting. You are the only one of the group who uh, experienced what you did in the lab, but we really thought the dose you were prescribed would be enough. Now, you also said you’d noticed some personality changes?”

“Yeah.” He answered, looking straight at the man.

“Like, what?”

“Been gettin’ madder a lot quicker lately. But I’d assume that’s from the lack of sleep and the dreams. Anytime I fall asleep, I get the dreams.”

“So, on average how many hours of sleep are you getting each night? Because that could greatly impact the effectiveness of the program we have you on too.”

“N-not many. Maybe four?” You looked at Eddie again, you’d been sleeping over with him a lot and never realized that he wasn’t getting a full night's rest.

“We’ll have to change those meds for you then, how does that sound?”

“Not like I’m gonna take ‘em.” He muttered.

“Oh, you haven’t been taking them?” The doctor put the files down. “And this is, your girlfriend?”

Eddie nodded, and sat up straighter. “Have you noticed a change in him?”

You went to open your mouth, but Scott spoke up.

“She’s the one who’s been around him with the nightmares. She says he wakes up unsettled, upset.”

“Mr. Munson, are you experiencing any physical pain from these dreams?”

He looked at Scott, who gave him a small nod.

“Sometimes my scars hurt after I’ve had a bad dream. Like, they feel fresh again.”

“But no pain during the day, when you’re awake?” Eddie shook his head no as the doctor sighed and shuffled through some papers. “I honestly think it’s fine. We know that everything is closed off, there should be zero chance of this happening again.”

“I just wanna get some sleep.” Eddie said as he yawned.

“Then take the meds.” The doctor slid over a handwritten prescription for what looked like 3 different medications. “It’s helped everyone you know, and it’s not a permanent thing. You just experienced major trauma.” The doctor had a seat, making him look a little less scary. “Is there a reason you’re so against this?”

You watched as Eddie visibly squirmed in his seat. You reached out a hand and held his, squeezing it lightly.

“My dad had a substance problem. Pills, alcohol, anything he could get his hands on. I’m afraid I’ll turn into that.” He wouldn’t look anywhere but the doctor as he spoke.

“All of these are controlled, and you are only allowed a certain number a month. If you’d prefer you could ask the pharmacy to dispense it to you weekly, or have a friend keep hold of them just in case. One is for sleep, one is for any panic attacks, and another is a daily medication to keep your mood more at ease.” He looked more kind than he did before, and everyone was glancing at Eddie to respond, but he just had a deer in the headlights look on his face.

“Hey, Harrington- let’s give him some privacy.” Hopper nodded at you, and you squeezed Eddie’s hand again, but he quickly withdrew it from your grip. You swallowed hard as you walked out behind Jim, feeling a lump in your throat form.

The second you reached outside of the office space, and the wind caught your breath, you felt the tears stream down your face. Everything had felt like so much for the past few weeks since you’d been back in Hawkins, but you had no idea the extent of what Eddie had been dealing with. You felt a hand rubbing your shoulder, and Jim guided you back to his vehicle where you climbed into the passenger seat, still crying.

“I shouldn’t have come back here. I should’ve just gone somewhere else.” You said as you wiped your eyes.

“God, Harrington, you’re so dramatic. Don’t go saying that. I think he needs you here.”

“Bullshit, Hopper. Why did he pull away from me when I just tried to hold his hand?!”

He slowly looked at you before speaking calmly. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, okay? You can’t get mad at me.” He paused, “Alright?”

“Yeah. I won’t.” You sniffled and dried your eyes.

“The people closest to you in your life- your brother, Eddie, me, Joyce, Robin, all those kids. All of us have experienced some of the absolute worst things you could imagine seeing. None of it was fake, it’s been hell here for years. We saw people we loved die, Dustin held Eddie as he died and somehow he managed to escape and live to tell the story, except we were all told we can’t tell it to anyone. I know the trauma you had back in the city was bad too, I’m not saying it wasn’t, but this was a different type of haunting experience for us all involved. We’ve all had to seek help to stay here and attempt to heal, everyone except Eddie. And until you got here, he wouldn’t talk to anyone about going to get help. That, in there, was actually the best he’s ever reacted to the doctor giving him advice. And the only thing that has changed at all, is you being by his side. I knew his dad, I know his uncle. That boy has nothing but stubborn Munson blood running through his veins. But he’s got his moms heart, and you bring that out in him. He’s gonna get help, you just gotta be patient with him and let him know you’re gonna be with him. He’s terrified to lose anyone.” You watched as Hopper smoothed his hand over his mouth, “So I need you to do something that you Harrington’s have a real hard time doing- I need you to get that stick out of your ass that you all have, and you can’t react to his feelings this way, don’t make this about you right now. I’m telling you, you don’t want to know what we saw. Did they tell you I was in a Russian prison being held captive? I got tortured, could’ve and almost died, but I couldn’t give up. Those kids and this town were depending on me. I couldn’t lose El, and she couldn’t lose me.”

You took a deep breath in and out, taking in all of Hopper’s words as he put his hand on top of yours.

“You need to be here for him, he needs you. You can’t give up on him.”

“I do kinda have a stick up my ass sometimes, don’t I?” You joked, making light of the situation.

“All you Harrington’s do. You’re born with it. But you’ve all got good hair, so I guess that’s the trade off.”

“Any hair is good compared to yours.” You quipped at him as he lit a cigarette and rolled his window down. You reached for one and he handed you his lighter.

“Didn't know you smoked?”

“Not usually this, but after that conversation I’ll take anything.” You scoffed.

“Something else is you two siblings can be really dumb. You do realize you’re in a cop’s car right now, don’t you?”

“And you do realize who my boyfriend is, don’t you?”

“Touché.” Jim said to you as you both took a drag of your cigarette and waited for the other three to come out.

About fifteen minutes later, and two more cigarettes each, you saw Steve and Eddie walk out behind Scott, Steve’s arm was around Eddie’s shoulder. You didn’t know if you should get out of the truck, or if you should wait to approach them.

“Go hug ‘em.” Hopper hit the unlock button as if he read your mind, and you jumped out and quickly approached both boys. You first hugged Steve, who had dropped his arm quickly to return the hug to you.

“Thanks.” He muttered in your ear. “I’ll see you later.” You told him bye as you watched him walk to his car.

You turned to Eddie who was standing there, watching Steve drive away, avoiding eye contact.

“Hey, I’m proud of you.” You broke the silence, and tested the waters as you gently placed your hand on his arm.

“Thanks for being there with me.” He wrapped his arms around you slowly, and pulled you into his body. “I should’ve told you about everything, but I didn’t know how you’d react. Everything’s out now. I promise.”

“I believe you. I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through and I just walked in expecting that you owed me a thorough explanation reliving your trauma when it’s still probably too fresh for you to even process. I’m really fucking proud of you for going today, Eddie.” You pulled back and kissed him on the cheek. Hopper honked his horn, and put his car in reverse as you and Eddie both shot him the bird at the same time, causing you both to giggle.

“I think that was enough for you today, Harrington. I’ll clock you out at 5, and tell Doris you had some offsite work to get done with me so you’ll be in the clear.” You thought about giving him the basement key in your pocket, but something told you not to.

“Thanks, Scott.” You told him with a smile, and watched as Eddie gave him a hug too before he walked off to his car.

“So, you think you could ride with me to get these filled, or-” Eddie nervously asked you, “I can go later if you just wanna go home, I can take you.”

“No, I’ll go with you. And if you need me to like, I dunno, keep you accountable for anything I can. Or if you don’t want me to, just say that.”

“Steve’s gonna do that for me, but I appreciate the offer. For now, I just want you to be my girl.”

Your heart swooned at the use of the phrase, as he kissed you on the side of your head.

“I can do that.” You smiled at him before heading to his van.

[insidefernweh]

Well, hello.

A couple months ago one silly woman (me) decided that it’s time for creativity to take a hold of her and let something cool into this world.

And that’s how I decided to give birth to…a The Amazing Devil blanket. Or I might have dreamed it whilst being feverish. Who knows.

It’s been three months of stitching, embroidering, sewing, unmaking the mistakes, cursing, saying ‘waahheeey’ at the end of the complete step, cursing again and enjoying the hell out of the process of something being made into the realness. 

It is literally the embodiment of me. I love it and hate it equally. It has got my favourite quotes from the songs. Yes, that’s me — your favourite girl with maelstrom of lyrics instead of a brain. It also has got some of my blood somewhere along the stitches (did i do it on purpose to please the fae gods aka Joey and Madeleine? you’ll never know. hashtag blood magic.) I wanted to get it done for the Ruin Appreciation Week (though it contains lyrics from all albums) so that was me last week because it was very FAR from being done:

I’m posting the bigger picture + close ups of smaller details and songs’ lyrics. Please feel free to reach out if you want to see a better close up or just to pat me on the head.

I’m posting a video too. It’s silly so enjoey. (ha! see what I did here. that was a typing accident. it’s 1am now. forgive me my jokes.)

warning: the video include some probably offensive actions to the professional seamstresses. i’m only a humble ignorant person who decided to sew for the first time in her life. i do hope you’ll like it.

references used:

the central embroidery: TAD’s old picture from some posters back in the love run era + some sage and forget-me-nots

top right and left bottom corners: pictures of joey and madeleine

songs: secret worlds, the calling, inkpot gods, drinking song for the socially anxious, chords, farewell wanderlust, not yet/love run (reprise), that unwanted animal, battle cries, elsa’s song, wild blue yonder

UPD: A few of you have been asking about the quotes I used on my blanket/quilt and why I chose them so here I am:

If you ask me for my fire, just watch me burn — you know what, I recently started to interpret this line in a positive way? It was a recent thing I understood about myself. I always thought I was good at working/doing things well in the long run, when you have to do it patiently and for years but in my journey of self-discovery I realized that in reality I’m much better as a sprinter — someone who does an incredible job while being under the vast amount of pressure and when you need to do it in a restricted period of time; I will give all of myself to this project/work, every bit of passion I have, every bit of patience. So yeah. If you ask me for my fire — just watch me burn. But then I’ll hibernate for a month. 

Can’t you hear it howling? — OKAY HANDS DOWN PROBABLY MY FAVOURITE LYRICS/MELODY SECTION FROM THE WHOLE RUIN ALBUM. Even not the part that is sung by Madeleine, but the back voices Joey’s harmonies sing in the final chorus at 4:28 and till the end. OOOOH WHY SO GOOD.

If I don’t make it back from where i’ve gone just know I loved you all along — this is such a beautiful closing of the song. also such a tormenting thought. i love it.

Such endless blue — I’ve always been drawn to the dark blue colours, especially when I paint. I always run out of the blue watercolour because contrary to this song, it’s not endless :D I’m manifesting an abyss of blue watercolour for myself here lol

You say the words so often but I barely know the meaning — okay so Elsa’ Song is primarily pretty heartbreaking right? The more heartbreaking part being that it is sung as a lullaby. Who didn’t have that moment when the meaning of the words you’re saying slips through your fingers just because you said them too often? Who didn’t have that sad awakening moment of losing trust in a person just because they always promised something and never did it?

After summers of fasting I feel hunger at last — I’ve been thinking about tattooing this quote for quite a while now. It reminds me of my depressive state which very often returned to me in summer and every time it slowly creeped away, I felt the hunger for life in the early autumn.  Every time felt like an eternity. 

Is nought but fumble-falls and guns and tumbleweeds, love, run — my favourite quote from the superior use of the English language that is that section in Love Run. I am in love with it. All the phonetic twirls makes me shiver sometimes.

Well, hello my hollow Holofernes — ALLITERATION SUPREMACY!!  

I’ll sing silence and ask my glass of wine for guidance — i love to sit at home alone and stare into my glass. it doesn’t answer though. what about it. and again — to sing silence? OXYMORONS GIVE ME THEM

Go tell me how we fucked you up and oh my god, it’s so unfair — ah. the hardship of parenting/teaching. I was there, I remember it all too well. 

Let’s us waltz for the dead — the oxymoronic style of this line IS JUST A CHEF’S KISS. WALTZ? VERY SOPHISTICATED THING? FOR THE DEAD? NOT THAT PLEASANT TYPE OF A THING? mister batey let me boop you affectionately on the nose you are so clever.

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Drinks pt. 2: Kyle Gaz Garrick x android!reader

I realize that i titled another fic this oh well lol

Gaz was surprised you showed up on time on the exact minute he had told you. He was used to waiting a couple minutes, whether that be because Soap forgot something or someone was still getting ready.

You showed up much like you normally did with strangely lifeless eyes and a neutral almost bored face. Before he thought that maybe you were just miserable but now he figured that you were just really reserved and probably anxious.

The other's weren't too sure about you still. They still couldn't get past the lack of engagement or the cold way you'd deny their attempts at friendship but Gaz figured he'd try one more time after having landed in the infirmary.

And after having spoken with you he realized that it hadn't been malicious.

"Ready to go?" He offered you a smile despite the fact that you had never given one back to him. "The other's went ahead."

"Yes." You nodded and that was it.

The walk to the pub was silent and awkward. Usually Gaz would've tried to make conversation but he didn't know what to say. He wasn't exactly a numbers guy, he didn't know as much about it as you did and he didn't know anything else about you. No one did.

As far everyone knew, you were just the person who analyzed data and that was it.

He tried anyway, focusing on the fact that you had finally changed out of uniform into something more comfortable. You looked like a regular person, which happed to be a good look on you.

"I see you dressed up." He pointed out and you looked down at yourself. "You look like a different person."

"It was my understanding that I should dress differently for this occasion." You said almost as if you had never been out before. "Is looking like a different person bad?"

"No! You look great."

You blinked at him owlishly, as if you hadn't expected a compliment and that you didn't know what to do because of that. You looked away from him and stayed silent for a moment, almost as if you were flustered.

"Thank you, sergeant Garrick." You said and looked him up and down. “…you look great as well.”

“Thanks!” He beamed at you.

Gaz could already feel himself warming up to you. It wasn’t easy but now that he could see you were just socially awkward he could work with that.

When the two of you entered the pub he directed you to the table where the others sat. They all gave you polite nods that you returned while you stared around the pub.

You say next to Gaz and said nothing.

“What do you drink?” Price wondered as he went to buy you one.

“I can’t drink.”

“Oh.”

Price sent a sheepish look to Gaz who gave one back as the air around the table went a little awkward.

None of them thought that maybe you didn’t want to go out for drinks was because you couldn’t drink.

“If it doesn’t bother you, I’m fine with conversing sober.” You offered.

“Sorry, we didn’t know.” Gaz tried to let you know that it wasn’t malicious but you merely looked at him with the same neutral face.

“I understand.”

You didn’t say anything else and it was apparent that you were just really bad at holding a conversation.

But if the 141 were anything they were determined and since you had made the step to join they would have to make the step to get to know you.

“So,” Soap began. “What can you tell us about yourself since you’re pretty much a classified person?”

You looked deep in thought for a moment before you glanced around the pub.

“I’ve never been to a pub.” You said, which was a little obvious to everyone.

“Do you go out much?” Gaz wondered and you shook your head.

“No.”

“Why not?”

You looked at him and tilted your head. You looked deep in thought again before your shrugged.

“It makes others more comfortable when I don’t.”

Gaz frowned and he couldn’t help but feel a little shameful. He took a quick glance around the table and saw that the others seemingly felt the same.

He usually wasn’t rude, not to people who didn’t deserve it, and yet he had made you feel outcasted. He felt bad and since he was trying to at least acquaint himself with you, he didn’t want to make it worse.

“We didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He gave you a genuine look even when you looked somewhat confused.

You glanced around the table, noticing the way all of them felt guilty for it. You blinked and didn’t say anything as if you were tying to choose your words carefully before you nodded.

"I'm not...used to this dynamic so I was unsure of how to proceed when presented with the idea of going out for drinks." You explained and an understanding fell across the group. "I apologize for my apparent lack of interest, but you didn’t make me feel anything."

Relief fell over the table while you stared at them.

"Well now we know." Price gave you a genuine smile.

"Yeah, we won't take it personal." Ghost added.

You nodded, seemingly feeling accomplished and less anxious before you stood up. You readied yourself to leave despite the confused looks from the rest of them before Gaz gently grabbed your wrist.

You jumped and for the first time since he'd met you he saw some emotion on your face. Your eyes widened as you stared at his hand before you looked almost...frightened.

He quickly let go, not wanting to make you more uncomfortable than you already were before he gave tried to give you a reassuring look.

"You can stay." He offered. "Team bonding, like you said."

You looked confused as you stared at him as if you didn't understand why he would want you to stay. You blinked once before you hesitantly sat back down beside him, keeping your arms close while looking troubled.

"Okay.”

A/n: I didn’t mean for this to be super long lmao

[rougepancake]

I need a big boy

Gyomei Himejima x Afab!DemonSlayer!Reader

If you don’t recognize the title, here you go

A/N: Uhh there will be some language used, a little zesty maybe - who knows 👀. Honestly proud of this little idea my brain cell cooked up lol. Also mentions of suicide (please don’t come for me) because it takes place in the suicide forest

Not proofread (😀) I’M SORRY

Summary: Shortly after you join the Demon Slayer Corps you’re sent out on a mission with THE Gyomei Himejima to investigate the melodramatic wonder known as Aoikigahara, but then things start heading south, fast.

“Y/N L/N! HERE ARE YOUR ORDERS!” Your kasugai crow shouted at you, circling far above your head. The sudden noise made you jump with surprise, but you figured that if you wanted to continue slaying demons, then you were to just get used to it. “HEAD TOWARDS AOKIGAHARA IMMEDIATELY!” You stopped dead in your tracks.

Aokigahara?

Just the name alone was enough to make you shudder. It was rumored to be a horrible place, one where many people were lured to their deaths, most likely by demons. They say that its quiet enough to drive a person mad, and that is what drags people deeper into the demon’s terrain. But it was simply too beautiful to go unnoticed, which is why people were just known to go missing there. It’s often said that if you are there just for the scenery, the forest will persuade you to stay. Forever.

But they were just rumors, so there was little to no truth to them… right?

You sighed and looked back up at the clouds overhead. You were only a rookie, so why did they send you to somewhere as dangerous as Aokigahara? Hopefully it wasn’t just a suicide mission.

There you stood, staring blankly at the miles of open greenery ahead of you. You stood no chance against what was in there, you were simply going to die and there was nothing you could do to prevent it.

With your hand firmly on the tsuka of your sword, you took your first steps into the mystical realm that was known as Aoikigahara. It was then that a terrible dread came over you.

You were being watched.

Nervously, you looked around, trying to see if the being was nearby. Yet there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. You freaked out and ran back outside of the thick wooding, only to run face first into what you thought was a tree. (It wasn’t.)

You had been knocked down because of how hard you ran into it, causing you to groan in pain. To your surprise, the tree helped you up. Which was really weird since trees couldn’t move outside of being blown around by the wind.

You rubbed your head nervously and mumbled a ‘thanks’ before raising your head to look up at said tree. When your eyes met his, you freaked out even more.

“OH MY GOD YOU’RE A HASHIRA!” You whisper shouted, afraid that the forest might hear you. You stared at him in awe, ‘He’s so tall..’ you thought to yourself, quickly apologizing and stepping away so he could have his personal space back.

You looked back up at him, noticing his blindness immediately. ‘Why in the hell would they send me out with a blind guy?!’ Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you walked back over to the talk stranger.

“I’ve been looking for you,” his surprisingly deep voice rang out. He looked down at you, stone faced. “I am Gyomei Himejima, the stone hashira. I was told that you practice wind breathing. Is this true?” He had his hands together as he spoke, almost as if he were in a state of prayer.

It made you anxious to think about how you’d been sent out here with a blind and religious nut, but you couldn’t say much, he was much stronger than you after all.

Swallowing thickly, you gave a quiet, “yes, sir” and kept your head down. You didn’t know why you had gotten so timid all of a sudden, like what had gotten into you?!

“Right, off we go then.” He said before disappearing into the terrifying forest that was Aoikigahara.

“Holy shit!- Hey! Wait! Isn’t there going to be any backup?! I didn’t even introduce myself! Come back!!!” You shouted at the trees, knowing that he was long gone now. “Well shit.” You grumbled, taking off towards the trees.

Hopefully you’d be able to catch up to him, or even better, maybe he’d slow down so you could catch up. Either way, you didn’t want to be alone, so you were going to find him as soon as you could.

“What took you so long?” Gyomei’s voice rang out again, causing you to yelp in surprise. “I was starting to think a demon had gotten to you.” You heard his voice, yet you couldn’t see him.

“G-Gyomei?” You spun around and braced yourself, placing your hand on your katana. “Where are you?” With a deep breath, you checked around you once again- maybe you were missing him?

“I’m just a little further out. I think you should see this.” You heard a shift in his voice that made you suspicious of him.

“I can’t. I’ve been wounded.” The demon slayer corps had many code words and terms that were used in case of emergencies, it was often that demons tried to impersonate fellow slayers, so if they didn’t return the code, then they were to die.

“Just remember your concentration breathing and come here.” You let out a sigh of relief and began to head to where he was.

“Alright! I’m on my way o-“ Before you knew it, you were on the ground, pinned beneath an incredibly large being. You coughed at the sudden lack of air, your eyesight slowly fading to black. Quickly, you moved your arm to your sword and unsheathed it. “Wind breathing, third form!” You said weakly, doing your best to stay conscious. “Clean Storm Wind Tree!” And just like that, the creature that had landed on you was twenty feet away from you, unconscious.

You used your katana as a crutch for yourself as you slowly got to your feet. The world was spinning as you glanced back to where you had sent your attacker. Your eyes widened as you noticed the color of his skin. It was unusually pale and covered in strange markings, and his hair was not a natural color by any means.

You were facing a demon.

But demons couldn’t be knocked unconscious.

You rushed forward with the little strength you had left, prepared to cut off his head, but right when you lifted the blade above your head, he caught it.

“You’re a sucker,” the demon chuckled, punching you in the stomach and throwing your katana to the side. “I can’t believe you fell for that, honestly.” He planted his foot on your chest harshly, once again taking the air from your lungs. He giggled as you struggled to catch your breath, your hands slowly coming up to his foot, trying weakly to move it. “You’re adorable though, I may just let you live if you do what I ask~”

Fear spread throughout your body instantly. “G-Go to hell you monster,” you spat, but your threat only caused him to giggle again.

“I love it when you little slayers get all worked up like this.” He leaned in close to your face, his smile growing. “You must not be very strong if you’re not putting up a fight.” There was something about the way he has said those words, it was true, and your reaction showed him it was.

“Now~” he licked his lips. “Do you give up, cutie~?”

You returned his smile, and in one swift movement on your part, the demon was on the ground once again. His eyes watched you curiously as you bolted towards your weapon, how you moved, your well thought out attacks, you were a work of art. He was honored to finally have someone who would be worth the effort of fighting.

Though, he was lost in thought for too long, because you had managed to get ahold of your sword in and cut off his head all within the blink of an eye.

“H-how” the demon mumbled to himself.

You reached down and picked up his head, forcing him to face his murderer. “I may not be as strong as my fellow slayers, but I sure as hell ain’t weak.” You whispered, an evil grin spreading onto your lips, just as he did mere moments earlier. “I hope you won’t underestimate anyone like me in the afterlife,” as you spoke, you dropped his head onto the ground and watched him fade away from existence.

Once you had cleaned yourself up a little, making yourself look decent and picking the grass off of your clothing and out of your hair, you continued to search for Gyomei. Thankfully, he wasn’t too far away. You had found him sitting on a tree stump, hands together and head down in prayer.

“Odd,” you whispered to yourself, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder to signal that you had found him before joining him in prayer.

You didn’t know what he was praying over, so you decided to pray for your safety during the mission. You prayed for Gyomei’s overall well-being and for him to make if out of this mission. He was a hashira, so him making it out alive was much more important than you, as depressing as it was.

When you opened your eyes, he was looking at you, his expression blank like before. You both sat there in silence, staring at one another. “Your name is Y/N, correct?” He asked simply.

“Yes, but I never told you, so how did you know?”

He looked up at the sky mysteriously, a tear sliding down his face as he did so. “I have my ways, that’s all.” All you could do was nod at the strange reply and sit there, it was a calming silence, but there was still something eerie about it.

“Have you found any demons yet?” He looked back at you, tears still flowing down his cheeks. “I-I’m sorry,” you stuttered, “I didn’t mean to interrupt the silence.”

“Yes, I did.” And he left it at that.

“Did you find what we were sent out here for?” Again, he just stared at you in silence. It was as if he was processing the question in his mind, like he didn’t understand it before.

“No, I didn’t.” He let out a short sigh before rising to his feet. “We were sent out here to investigate, but I don’t know what we’re investigating.” He looked over his shoulder, quickly assuming his fighting stance. “Be ready, we’re being watched.”

You stared at him in awe, but it didn’t last long, because you were soon ambushed. Four grotesquely large demons had you both locked in combat. You had managed to slay one of them completely right off the bat, but the second one you faced was much more powerful than the first. It was a challenge to get it done, and you thought you had, until you turned around to face Gyomei and fell to the ground, unconscious.

You awoke in a room that you didn’t recognize, which was altogether pretty terrifying, but the fact that you couldn’t move was even worse. The pain was excruciating, and your legs were numb. You noticed that someone had bandaged you up, but you still had no idea because there were no hints as to who’s house this was.

“Hello?” You called out weakly, hoping that someone would hear you, but with the size of the room you were in, you figured it was at least a mansion. There was no chance, you were stuck.

“You called?” A familiar voice responded, his footsteps sounding out in the hallway. Gyomei opened the door and carefully peered in.

“OhmygodI’msohappytoseeyou” you let out a huge sigh of relief, smiling when Gyomei walked into the room and sat down on the chair beside your bed.

“I was worried back there,” he stated, his hands back together in a form of prayer. “I with the amount of blood you had lost, I’m surprised I didn’t have to call Shinobu-san.”

“How…” you trailed off, looking up at the ceiling so you could think about your next words. “How long am I going to be here?”

“I’m not sure.” Gyomei’s answer was honest, but there was something about his tone that made you feel you’d be here indefinitely. “From what I was able to bandage, your wounds were deep. You may not even be able to walk for a few days. I would like you to take it easy, because your wounds can, and will, tear open.”

“Yes sir.” You heard him make an odd noise at the name, and shortly after, he excused himself because there were things around the house he needed to do.

Right when he left was when it it you. He was blind. And as far as you knew, you two were the only two in the house right now. So how was he able to bandage you? Did he just feel you up until he found your wounds?? You looked down at your stomach, and upon seeing the bandages, you blushed heavily. Had he really bandaged you himself??

Maybe that’s why he was being so weird when he left. Maybe he was married and didn’t want you to think he’s trying to get up your skirt. Or, or, or- maybe he’s embarrassed about what he had to do and because of that, being in your presence makes him nervous..?

“Yeah that’s totally it.” You whispered to yourself.

Just then, someone came though the door. Immediately you turned to see who it was, and to your surprise, you didn’t recognize her.

She was much shorter than Gyomei and had her purple and black hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. Her haori looked like the wings of a butterfly with its markings, in fact, she looked like a butterfly. She moved with grace in each step and took her time coming over to where you were resting.

“Hi hi Y/N-chan!” She greeted enthusiastically. “I’m Shinobu-san and my friend Gyomei told me that you were looking pretty rough!” She stood beside your bed and examined the bandages around your stomach.

“Well he wasn’t wrong,” you tried to laugh it off, but the pain caused you to wince. “I don’t even remember what happened.” You admitted to her, looking away out of embarrassment.

“Now now, did you bandage yourself?” She asked, slowly lifting up your shirt to get a good view of how far your wounds went. You shook your head and Shinobu gigged to herself. Once she had finished examining you, she stood up and brushed off her hands with a kind smile. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. With what I felt, you’ll be on your feet tomorrow at least, just remember to be careful and to take it easy!”

And with those words, Shinobu had left.

You wished you had asked her if she could send Gyomei back into the room, you were incredibly bored and it would be great if you could just talk to him to pass the time.

Sighing, you looked out the window and noticed that the sun was beginning to set. “Good night house,” you mumbled to yourself as you got comfortable.

That night you had dreamt you were healed, and in a much better condition than you were now. You dreamt that you were much more powerful, and beautiful too. But the best part of that dream was what happens behind closed doors with a person who lives alone.

“G-Gyomei~” You were a mess but you couldn’t quite explain why. He was crawling on top of you slowly, practically towering over you with how tall he was. Gyomei placed his hands next to your head and leaned down in close to your ear.

“You called?” He whispered seductively. A gentle smirk graced his lips as he began to kiss you softly along your jawline. You shivered, looking away out of embarrassment. Though, that move only made your neck more vulnerable. “What do you need, Y/N?” The question gave you goosebumps, which you tried your best to ignore, but the sudden heatwave that flushed to your face made it hard to do so.

“Y-you,” you mumbled shyly. “I need y-you, Gyomei.” He smiled at your words and slowly raised his body from yours. He carefully sat up and pulled you into his lap, your back against his chest and his hands resting on your waist.

He buried his head in the crook of your neck as his hands moved up to unbutton your shirt in the most teasingly slow way possible. “Just let me take care of you darling.” His breath was hot against your bare skin, which only made you shiver in anticipation.

“Y-yes sir.”

You woke up to find yourself saying his name. You were flushed and covered in a thin layer of sweat from the wonderful dream that you had been torn from. Slowly pulling the covers over yourself, you looked around the room, hoping that no one had heard your little… incident.

But your heart stopped completely when you saw Gyomei’s figure in the hallway. He looked mesmerized just as you looked terrified. You hurriedly hurried yourself underneath the blanket and mumbled an apology since you assumed you had woken him up.

You wanted to be able to die of embarrassment so badly, but sadly you were forced to face the consequences of your stupid little dream.

The sound of footsteps reached your ears, making your heart rate skyrocket. They stopped before your bed and you could sense his stare, burning through the covers.

He squatted down to your level and slowly pulled the blanket off of your head to reveal your more than red face. Gyomei leaned over to your face and let out a short sigh. “You called?”

[pinazee]

If you’re so smart, then why are you dead?

To start, heres a list of scientists that some characters were named after:

Lisa Meitner (physicist, bad bitch)

Otto Hahn (physicist)

Kurt Gödel (mathematician) (shawn was sort of correct with the pronunciation)

Robert Goddard (physicist)

William Shockley (racist)

I thought this was an accident because James seems to snicker after but apparently it was planned by Dulé’s stand in Gyle (Gile?)

Gus really should have known this was Avogadros number if he took any kind of chemistry.

Were they originally going to have Shawns mom a cop too and thats why he said he was born with “an extra normal amount [of paranormalevolance]. Two cops to be exact.” I have a vague memory of someone mentioning it on a commentary.

I wish they had let Juliet have a little more participation in the solve and therefore the victory. Or better yet, gave her a separate case to solve on her own so we saw her really get a win under her belt. She could still ask Shawn for advice, or maybe while he’s doing his whole psychic episode bit to give her a clue she solves it without him, and Shawns left standing impressed. But also, you’re telling me that she wasn’t the primary when she went undercover at the sorority??

The way Dulé says “i never got carsick a day in my life!” ABSOLUTELY SENDS ME

But what really made the Gusters keep him from going? Was it just their overprotectiveness? Was shawn really his only friend? Are they still trying to protect him from the truth?

Somehow i got it in my brain that Shawn was responsible for Gus not getting in. I think i headcanoned that so hard i made it feel true lol i thought Shawn knew the whole time (i mean he must have seen Gus practicing and being extra anxious about something) and he somehow convinced his parents that Gus wouldn’t have been happy there. maybe part of that was true, but little Shawn just didn’t want him to go.

Either way, if the Gusters were actually concerned about quality of life, then they chose Gus’s happiness over his success which is such a juxtaposition to Shawn and his dad.

Or maybe they visited the school and saw a kid getting shocked and said fuck that.

Here’s another instance of Gus looking for where he went wrong in life. If only he’d spelt aggiornamento correctly, if only he’d gone to Meitner. Gus seems so unhappy with himself, and theres this underlying narrative happening that Gus might actually be depressed. Like in 9 lives when he’s convincing himself he’s happy, or in down the stretch when Shawn says Gus needed a victory more than him at the moment. This poor guy spent so much of his life being told he would go far, that he could do anything, so when he didn’t, he felt like a failure. And I don’t think that was his parents fault necessarily, i think he put that pressure on himself, simply because it was expected. He was the gifted kid who burned out, and now he’s settled into something safe, reliable, and unfulfilling.

Then you have this chess match with Shawn and Henry and we see Shawn demonstrate his own genius. But the juxtaposition here is that shawns pressure was external. Shawn also had the potential to go far but that ultimately isn’t what he strives for. Shawn just wants to have a good, fun life. Probably because his dad sucked the fun out of everything (let the kid call the knight Dwight, jesus henry).

Sidenote: I’m obsessed with finding this blonde guy in the background now haha

[secretobsessionstuff]

nawwwhh man you aint gotta feel bad about not doin sicktember. im bein real here, i thought i was and i did like 3, so i aint either. but if you really do want me to request one, i'd probably do psychogenic fever/stress induced illness with madix bein sickie bc itd relate to me personally the most (bc i always get stress sick and i'd love to see madix sick witb it too (bonis point if dakota take care of him GOD i loved the fic where dakote took care of him))

Hey man, thanks for always being there and loving my fics. I hope you like this one even though it's nearly two fucking years late I swear.

This fic is set in the past when Madix and Dakota are in school together.

CW: Graphic description of vomiting! It's seriously so gross I love it lol.

-------------------

A flood of relieved students rushed past Dakota. He swam against the current looking for Madix among the test-takers. Since it was 2pm, they were no longer test-takers, but the sea of knowledge inside their brains would still be there until the PTSD of organic chemistry was washed away by time. 

Dakota knew how anxious Madix had been for this final. The dreaded Orgo Chem kept his roommate up for the past three nights. It was a known fact that this second-year course was a killer, and Madix’s prof was a distinguished serial killer. Many students retook Orgo in the summer, trying for that passing grade with perhaps a more lenient prof. 

With the hallway now empty—all the students having left—it was easy for Dakota to find Madix. He hadn’t expected his friend to stick around after the final was over, but there he was sitting on the floor by the large windows. Madix looked like a crab, trying to find safety in the shell of his hunched over back. He had his head in his hands and was rubbing his temples as if the trauma of the exam pooled behind his eyes. 

“Hey, how did it go?” It was a very pointless question given that Madix was curled into a question mark. 

“Fuck if I know,” Madix slurred as he slid his hands down his face. “I keep going over every question, doubting my answers.” 

“Well, it’s over now so you don’t need to think about it.” It worried Dakota how glassy and fragile Madix’s eyes looked, like he was about to cry or explode into flames. His cheeks were pale and sunken too. 

“I need a 73 to pass the class.” 

Dakota squinted. “Mmh sounds like you’re still thinking about it.” 

Madix dropped his hands to his side. “I can’t stop. That exam is all I’ve been thinking about for the last week. I haven’t even had time to study for Anatomy tomorrow.”

With a sigh, Dakota sat down on the floor next to his friend. “I brought you something to take your mind off studying.” From behind his back, Dakota revealed a fast-food bag from the student lounge. It was Madix’s favourite place to get comfort food because of the crispy fries, the juicy burger, and the creamy milkshake. Madix didn’t like to indulge that craving too often because it was a greasy cheat meal that often left him feeling bloated, but Dakota thought it would be a nice gesture since Madix had hardly eaten anything leading up to this exam. 

He was about to hand his friend the grease-wrapped gift, but hesitated. The heat coming off Madix’s body was alarming. Dakota could feel the waves just sitting next to him. A quick touch to Madix’s forehead with the back of his hand told Dakota that he’d been neglecting his roommate. 

“Shit, Mads, you’re burning up. I didn’t know you were sick all this time.” 

“I’m not sick.” Like a starving animal, Madix reached for the bag of food, but Dakota held it out of his reach. 

“Bullshit. You can deny it all you want, but your head’s on fire, buddy.” 

“I know.” 

Dakota couldn’t stop his lecture now, as if the two of them hadn’t heard enough lecturing the whole year. “You’re the one in pre-med, you should know—wait what?” 

Madix sighed at the theatrics of his friend. “I’ve had a fever for three days. It’s not going away.” He rubbed his own forehead, feeling the familiar yet puzzling temperature. “I don’t have any other symptoms. I think it’s from stress.” 

It was honestly the oddest feeling. Madix could feel himself cooking from the inside. His cells buzzed like the many diagrams of excited particles when submitted to heat. But there was nothing else to indicate a virus or infection. His throat was fine; his nose was clear. If anything, he was infected with school. Perhaps his nose was clogged with equations and his throat was sore from reciting textbook chapters. 

Dakota looked skeptical. “So, you gave yourself a fever from worrying?” 

“Yes, it’s a medical mystery. They should name a disease after me. Anyway, gimme burger.” Madix reached for the food like a child with grubby fingers. 

Dakota scooted away from his friend, taking the prize with him. “I don’t know, Mads. You really don’t look well. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to eat something so heavy.” 

“Come on. You know I’ve been surviving on goldfish crackers.” It was only now that he could smell the fries and beef that Madix realized how hungry he was. His stomach was aching for something substantial. “Besides, I need the energy to study for Anatomy. It’s tomorrow by the way.” 

“Tomorrow? But you just had orgo.” 

“I have a shit exam schedule this year.” Madix pouted. “Please, Kota. It will make me feel better.” 

Finally, Dakota relented. He had bought it for Madix after all. But now he was worried that it was the exact opposite of what the overworked boy needed. 

He watched Madix stuff his face with his first real meal in 72 hours. The burger disappeared in record time. Fatty juices glistened on Madix’s chin as he dug into the fries. His fingers were coated in grease and fry seasoning by the time he was done. In between each mouthful, he took longs slurps of the Oreo milkshake. 

“You wanna slow down there, bud?” Dakota asked incredulously. There wasn’t much more to eat at this point. 

Madix dragged his sleeve over his mouth and shook his head. “Have to start studying soon.” He swallowed the last bite of fries and sucked at the last remnants of the milkshake. Madix let out a long burp at the end and sighed. 

“I’m not gonna lie, that was impressive.” Dakota couldn’t believe his eyes. “You’re getting more colour in your cheeks.” Maybe the meal really had been a good thing. “But I’m still worried about this voodoo fever though.” 

“It won’t go away until the exams do.” 

‘Then neither will I.” Dakota stood firm in this decision. He wasn’t going to let Madix get burnt out…literally. His hardest exams were done, so he could keep a closer eye on Madix now. “I’ll study with you in the library.” 

“You don’t have to, Kota. I’ll be fine.” 

“I want to.” 

By the tone of Dakota’s voice, Madix could tell that he wasn’t going to win this one. “Fine, but we’re studying in the red zone.” 

“Not the red zone! Anything but that.” 

Madix shrugged. “You’re the one who insisted on babysitting.”

• • •

The red zone was the fourth circle of hell—also known as the library during exam season. 

It was the quietest level of the building, reserved exclusively for students to study in absolute silence. No talking, no phones, you couldn’t even sneeze without getting dirty looks. You could hear a pencil drop and then watch that pencil be escorted out of the red zone. 

As someone with ADHD, Dakota hated the red zone. He much preferred the orange or yellow zone. At least in the orange zone, you could whisper and cough without being shunned. The yellow zone allowed for conversation and anxious tapping. He admitted that the green zone was definitely not ideal for studying. That was the first level of the library were students could openly cry over their exams or practice for their theater final that involved a murder scene. 

Dakota pretended to zip his lips and throw away the key. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them from moving on their own. 

Madix on the other hand had no issue keeping his mouth shut. The nausea forced his lips together. 

The fast food was quickly catching up to him, staying true to its name even inside his stomach. It hadn’t taken long before the burger, fries, and milkshake resisted digestion. The meal churned in his belly like a wad of chewing gum. 

The red zone was popular during this time of year, so Madix and Dakota hunted for two chairs next to each other. They found a long table with many students already studying there, but luckily there were two empty spots across from each other. Madix was grateful to be sitting across from Dakota so that he could rub his upset stomach discreetly. 

Unfortunately, the red zone was not a good place to have a gurgly tummy. The girl next to Madix gave him the stink eye when the organ groaned, tossing chewed up cow inside his gut. He felt grease sticking to his throat and hot burps in his chest. He pushed down every belch lest he be escorted out of the level. 

The words of the anatomy textbook swam across the page. Madix felt his fever ignite with a vengeance. Now he was dizzy, disoriented, and disgustingly full. There was heat behind his eyes that turned his vision to soup. Everything he needed to know for the exam was right in front of him in the book, but the letters became alphabet stew on a white background. 

He dared not look up at his friend in fear that Dakota would see right through him. 

Dakota could not study in such an environment, so naturally he saw every twinge of nausea flash across Madix’s expression. His poor friend was not having a good time. Madix’s cheeks were now flushed bright red, and beads of sweat gathered on his brow. 

In the dead quiet of the library, he could hear Madix’s stomach struggle to digest the heavy meal. Dakota kicked himself for giving into Madix’s begging. The nausea was no doubt thwarting his efforts at studying which created a vicious cycle of stress and pain. 

Dakota did a quick doodle in his notebook and passed it to Madix. He was quite proud of his drawing and had to keep in a chuckle. 

Madix frowned at the drawing. Along the top were the words Green Zone Now? Below Dakota’s messy handwriting was a drawing of a green-faced emoji. Its cheeks were ballooned with vomit. It seemed he wasn’t hiding his ailment so well. 

On the same page, Madix wrote back I’m fine. Must study. Madix didn’t think he needed to go to the green zone, despite what his complexion said. He could control his stomach. The food would stay down; it had to. 

Dakota gave Madix a disappointed look when he got the note back. Why must he be so stubborn? Dakota had to drop the matter. Aside from physically picking up his friend, he didn’t see any other way of convincing Madix to take a break for the sake of his health. He wasn’t going to be making any compelling arguments in the red zone. 

Madix tried to ignore his blistering fever and his unhappy guts.

Systemic Anatomy was hard to study for when he was so keenly aware of his digestive system. He imagined partially digested fries mixing with the gastric juices in his belly. His body went through the steps with much difficulty. 

The muscular organ was literally in the process of contracting itself to squeeze all the nutrients out of the fast food. Madix did not like the squeezing. He hugged his aching middle and laid his head on the table in defeat. 

It didn’t seem likely that the food would continue on to his intestines. His stomach couldn’t handle the greasy meal after days of hardly anything to eat. On top of all this, his body was too busy fighting a made-up virus called stress. The stress was very real, but his immune system was taking it too literally. It was no wonder why he couldn’t keep the meal down. 

Madix couldn’t stop the burp from coming up. It burst from his mouth, splashing the back of his throat with acid. The girl next to him shushed him. Her expression was as sour as his stomach. He didn’t have the will to apologize for the noise. Regardless, he wouldn’t have had the chance to say sorry anyway because another burp filled his mouth with sticky saliva. 

Dakota looked up quickly to see Madix hunched over his chair and gagging into his hand. Another sickly belch bubbled up, draining the colour from Madix’s face. 

Before Dakota could do anything, he watched Madix lurch forward with a loud heave. Thick vomit spewed from his mouth and fell onto the table in front of him. The sick quickly spilled onto Madix’s lap. 

“Oh, shit Maddy,” Dakota cooed as he came to his friend’s side. He didn’t bother with the anti-social etiquette of the red zone, not that it mattered though because everyone in their vicinity bolted from the room. No one wanted to risk catching whatever Madix had during their exams. 

Madix coughed and sputtered. Scandalous! He could only moan miserably before the muscles in his belly contracted again, sending up another wave of mushy fries and curdled milkshake. Dark flecks of Oreo and beef dotted the sick. 

“Oh God…” Madix choked out. “I can’t stop.”

Dakota rubbed his friend’s back while trying not to look at the growing pool of vomit that was…everywhere. “It’s okay, buddy. Just let it out.” The same heat from before lived beneath Madix’s skin. Dakota could feel the fever through his clothes. “No one is here. You’re good. Do what you need to do.” 

Madix’s belly gave another deep lurch. The pressure forced the undigested food up his open esophagus. If this wasn’t the best way to study the digestive system, then Madix didn’t know what else to do besides open himself up like a cadaver. 

His fever made the room spin around him. If he had any sort of receptacle, he probably would have missed. Luckily, he had no issue catching his notebook, his lap, and his shoes in the process. 

“Good job,” Dakota encouraged. He patted Madix’s back firmly. “Get it all out. Get that stress out too while you’re at it.” 

Madix had to admit that there was something cathartic about this purge. He felt lighter with each bout that left his body. He gave over to his subconscious mind and let his body do what it needed to do. He probably should have listened to the hunger and sleep cues before this, but he was listening now to the Get Out cues. 

If stressed looked like a melted Oreo milkshake then it was certainly no longer in his body. He tried to imagine the pressure and the expectations and the need for validation leaving his body along with the vomit. 

When Madix caught a break, he couldn’t help but give a chuckle. “This is the red zone. I just puked in the red zone.” 

Dakota laughed with him. “All over it really.” He looked around at the empty room. “You scared everyone away. They must think you have the plague.” 

“I think we’re all infected with it. This pressure—it’s an epidemic, man.” 

“Don’t go turning into a philosopher.” Dakota took a step back from his friend. It wasn’t a good view, but he was happy to see Madix’s shoulders relaxed. “Do you need anything? Water? Sleep?” 

“Both.” Madix slowly stood up from his chair, cringing at the wetness that made his shirt cling to his body. “But I think I better find someone who works here.” Madix rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I should have listened to you, huh?”  

“Let’s discuss my vast amount of wisdom when everything’s cleaned up, shall we?"