#they could be on a trip to some neighboring area or maybe they rented a boat to Lido or something

[canisalbus]

[strawberriemarswrites]

CHAPTER ONE

Chapter Summary: Bartolomeo is your neighbor and has it really bad for you. The kind of bad where your stuff is out of place and going missing. Pairing: Bartolomeo x F!Reader Rating: Mature, SFW chapter TW: Stalking, breaking and entering, obsessive behavior Ao3 Link: Chapter One (3,510 words)

You moved to the city about four months ago. Life had become stagnant and suffocating, especially after finishing college. You needed to get away; from overbearing parents, from your snobbish peers, from everyone. The only good connection you made in college was able to get you an archivist job in the heart of the city, and you snapped it right up. You applied for whatever apartments were in the area that you could afford, and went for the first one that became available.

That might’ve been your first mistake, really. For one thing, it was in a grittier part of town. It was also small, barely the size of two dorm rooms put together, and the neighbors below you were always yelling at each other or loudly fucking each other. But the building was clean, the rent was cheap, and the neighbor across the hall was friendly enough. A bit crass and blunt, but friendly.

His name was Bartolomeo. He was a mean-looking motherfucker by all accounts: wild green hair, septum piercing, tattoos — he was exactly the kind of person people from your hometown would have hated on appearance alone. He had an odd sort of overbite that showed his long canines like a vampire, except that all his teeth were equally sharp, and at first you’d been intimidated by both that and his impressive height. (After a few trips on the train to and from work, you noticed much stranger and much taller folks, and figured it must have just been a quirk of diverse city life).

Despite all appearances, however, Bartolomeo was nice. He held the elevator if he saw you running up, even if it was nearly shut. Some days you’d see him in the hall and he’d stop to chat for a while. One day you realized you two had been talking for almost thirty minutes, and only stopped because he’d gotten a call from his coworker asking him where the hell he was. Even running late, he still moved and talked with an aloof sort of air about him, like nothing could get to him. 

Early on, maybe a few weeks after moving in, you admitted to him that you’d never lived fully alone before, and wondered if maybe you made the right choice to live in such a rough part of town. Bartolomeo had laughed, like finding the neighborhood rough was something he’d never considered. You still remembered what he’d told you:

“People around here aren’t too big on hospitality, but they mind their own business. Don’t mess with them, they won’t mess with you.” He then smiled wide, showing off the rest of his uniquely sharp teeth. “Tell you what — since you’re so nervous about it, if anyone does mess with you, let me know. I’ll take care of ‘em for ya.”

Just the memory of how he had smiled that day brought a faint blush to your cheeks. Fine, you’d admit it: aside from being nice, Bartolomeo was also frustratingly attractive. His devil-may-care charm was hard not to be lured in by, and you couldn’t help but feel some of it rubbing off on you the more you got to chatting. He was loud and so were his friends, and the landlord rarely stuck around long if he stepped into the hallway. You definitely felt a little safer knowing he was around.

Two months ago, the troubles began.

It had been a day like any other. Average shift, average commute, about the only exciting part of the work day had been your coworker, Robin, inviting you for drinks on Friday. You came home and went to your bedroom to change into comfier clothes, but something was off. You couldn’t tell at first, but when you reached for the top drawer of your dresser to pull out some pajama pants — 

It was already open. 

Just slightly, with the edge of your pajama pants stuck in the drawer’s track. 

Now, you weren’t necessarily a meticulous person, but in general you kept your dresser pretty tidy, so it seemed odd to find it this way. Puzzled, you pulled out the pants and a loose t-shirt, frowning as you put them on. Had you been in a hurry that morning? It was possible, since you were struggling to remember what you had for breakfast. Hustling through your routine and being a bit careless with the drawer as a result wasn’t totally out of the question. You pushed down the knot in your stomach and moved on with your evening, the incident forgotten.

Or at least, it would have been forgotten, had there not been further incidents.

Another day, you had been unexpectedly called off. There had been a power outage on the block your workplace was on, and they hadn’t been able to get the emergency lights working. You spent the morning getting your laundry done and putting fresh bed sheets on the bed, and left to run extra errands. When you came back, exhausted but satisfied with your personal productivity, you went to jump into your bed for a quick nap before dinner.

You stopped just short literally jumping in when you found the comforter was already disheveled somehow. As if someone had been laying on top of it.

The frequency of problems seemed to only increase from there. You came home to find your door was unlocked, when you were nigh-obsessive on double-checking it before leaving. Your favorite t-shirt to sleep in had gone missing, and you had just put it in the hamper the night before. You had a journal in your nightstand that you didn’t write in terribly often, but with the strange things happening you felt it’d be nice to get it all documented — you opened it and found creases in a couple of the pages, like it had been clumsily closed and tossed back into the drawer.

You had convinced yourself that everything was fine. Maybe you lost your t-shirt at the laundromat. Maybe you thought you double-checked the door but you hadn’t. Maybe you were nodding off the last time you handled your journal. Maybe, maybe, maybe. At this point, the only thing you were sure of was that you were in denial that any of this was fine.

In hindsight, you really should have brought it up to Bartolomeo sooner than you did.

Drinks with Robin and a few other coworkers became a biweekly affair, lining up with payday. The weather was finally warming up after a particularly cold April, so you put on one of your frillier blouses that you were saving for such an occasion and a pair of jeans. Then you spent way too long looking for your favorite perfume. 

“Motherfucker!”

You slammed your palm against the wall in frustration. Of course. Why the fuck not? With all the other weird happenings, why wouldn’t that fall victim to the bullshit, too? Shaking the sting out of your hand, you got up from the bathroom floor and stormed off, snatching up your purse. You’d just have to hope no one noticed the blouse was a little stuffy-smelling from being put away for so long. Frustrated, you slammed the apartment door on your way out, triple-checking the lock and muttering curses the whole way.

“You good?”

Bartolomeo’s voice behind you made you jump and fumble your keys. With a deep sigh you crouched down and scooped them up, running a hand through your hair. “I’ll be fine. Just running late for payday drinks.”

“Oh yeah,” he said, and you saw him lean to one side in your peripherals. “That’s tonight. When are you guys gonna come out to my bar, huh?”

“When I’m more confident that they won’t mind the heavy metal music,” you said and stood upright, smiling and adding, “Which might be sooner than you think.”

As usual, Bartolomeo was the picture of nonchalance, leaning against his doorframe in a Cannibal Corpse t-shirt that had seen better days. He gave you a sort of half-smirk then nodded to your door. “You sure you’re okay? Sounded like you might’ve hurt yourself in there.”

“Yeah, just...” you sighed and shook your head, “kinda frustrated. I can’t find my good perfume.” You paused, remembering your conversation with him when you first moved in. “Hey, uh, Barto?”

He stood up slightly straighter at the nickname. “Yeah?”

“Can you, uh...” you paused again, twisting the strap on your purse. His suddenly intense stare made you blush and avert your eyes. “Would you mind keeping an eye on my apartment when I’m gone? Like, if you’re around, let me know if you hear or see anything?”

“Yeah, sure!” he answered with surprising eagerness, before he cleared his throat and quickly reverted to the casual tone. “I mean — can I ask why?”

You would have laughed at the outburst, had you not been trying to find the words to explain you thought someone was breaking into your apartment. “It’s just... I don’t know. Some of my stuff’s gone missing. Random things. And sometimes I come home and there’ll be something out of place, or a little off. Like... someone else has been there.”

“Oh, shit.” Bartolomeo pushed off the doorframe, the chain hanging from his belt clinking as he took a step closer. “How long’s this been goin��� on for?”

You continued avoiding his gaze. “Two months, maybe?”

“What?”

“I figured I was just forgetting things,” you said quickly. “It happens, I can be a little spacey. But... not like this. It feels different.” You finally looked at him again with a sheepish smile, your heart melting a bit at the worried look he had. “I probably should have mentioned something sooner. I’m sorry to freak you out like this.”

He shrugged, now suddenly avoiding your gaze. “At least you said somethin’ before it got any worse.”

A chill went down your spine. You didn’t want to think about what “worse” entailed.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I told ya you could come to me if anyone was messin’ with you.” He smiled, his fully-bared teeth all the more imposing as he punched one fist into the opposite palm. “I’ll keep an eye out for ya. If I catch anyone hangin’ around where they don’t belong, they’ll be shittin’ sideways for the rest of their life.”

Despite yourself, you laughed. All things considered, you felt lucky that you had such a cool neighbor.

Relief gave way to panic when your phone pinged; a reminder that you had somewhere to be. You cussed under your breath and started rushing toward the elevator, but not before turning and waving to Bartolomeo, shouting as you ran, “Thank you! I owe you one!”

“Don’t mention it!” he called and waved back, watching you turn the corner for the elevator. He leaned against the wall next to his door, shoving his hands in his pockets and listening for the soft ding of the elevator’s arrival. Once he was sure you were out of earshot, he stepped back into his apartment and shut the door, taking a deep breath.

“FUCK!”

Bartolomeo put both his hands over his face, yelling every curse word he knew. How could he have gotten so careless?! He knew he’d gotten way too comfortable with sneaking into your apartment, but two months? You’d been onto him for two months?! He groaned and dragged his hands down, wincing when one of his fingers tugged on his nose ring. No, that wasn’t right; you weren’t onto him, specifically. You only noticed the missing stuff, and whatever it was you meant by “something out of place”.

(He knew exactly what you meant by that, considering his favorite thing to do in your apartment was lie down on your bed and cuddle your pillows.)

Admittedly, part of him was relieved. You asked him for help! Sure, from the time you noticed to the time you said something had him a little concerned, and sure, it was his doing to begin with — but you weren’t aware of the second part! And, if you hadn’t said something, it would only have been a matter of time before he got caught in the act. He had time to correct that now. With you asking for help, it meant he’d be seeing you more, so he wouldn’t have to break into your apartment anymore, and he could act like it never happened!

(He was aware, on some level, that it wouldn’t be that simple. It wouldn’t be enough just to see you more. He had to be with you.)

Bartolomeo groaned again and sat down on the couch, head still in his hands. His heart had finally calmed down, having been racing just from talking to you. You were so cute, from how you fidgeted when you were nervous, to how your laugh sounded, to how you looked in that outfit (well, he thought you always looked nice in any outfit, but that was beside the point). And your eyes — what he wouldn’t give to be able to look into your eyes for more than a handful of seconds. He’d started a habit of looking at your nose when you two chatted, just to keep from turning his head away when your eyes were too much, but it only led to him fighting the insatiable urge to kiss it. He wanted to kiss your whole face, really, but if he started thinking about that, his heart rate was bound to pick up again.

All this to say, Bartolomeo had it bad for you. Real bad.

It started out innocently enough when you moved in across the hall. He thought you were cute from the start, and wanted to be nicer than usual; holding the door if he saw you coming, taking time to chat with you. But then the more he saw you, the more you two talked, the more he found himself looking forward to it. Before he knew it, he was listening for the elevator every time he could, just so he had a chance to talk to you again.

Even though it wasn’t hard to tell you lived alone, you admitting out loud that it was the first time about sent him into shock. Seriously? And in the shittiest neighborhoods you could have possibly ended up in? Something in his brain cranked up to eleven, and he was determined you needed someone looking out for you. Someone close by, who knew the area well, and had more than enough street smarts under his belt. Of course, that someone would be him. Why wouldn’t it be? And so, he came up with something to ease your worries (it was mostly true, in that at the very least the people in the building and running businesses around the neighborhood minded their own), and offered help. The relief on your face was well worth it.

Bartolomeo hadn’t intended for things to get this... intense, though.

The first time he’d broken in had been on impulse. See, the apartment building had older fire escapes, where the ladder wasn’t as compact as it really should be and about half of it hung down below the bottom landing. Most people still couldn’t reach it without significant effort, either by dragging over something to climb on or risking their neck by trying to parkour that shit.

Bartolomeo, however, was not most people. Standing at seven-foot-three, he just had to reach up and haul his own weight for a few rungs. He only did it to prove to himself that he could, in case you were ever in trouble and he needed to get in quickly without fighting with the front door.

Then, he wondered if it would take very long to get to the fourth floor, where both of you lived. He knew he wouldn’t have to worry about the tenants on the way up making a fuss; the unit on the second floor was used by the landlord for storage, and the people directly below you were always too busy arguing or fucking to notice anything.

And then it just. Happened. You weren’t home, and the window was so easy to open, and he had to know everything. How you lived, what you showered with, what sort of stuff did you keep. He had a general idea from talking to you, but he wanted, needed more.

The first time, Bartolomeo just sat on the windowsill, looking around and taking in the bedroom. You kept the floor clear, so if he felt brave enough to venture further in the room he wouldn’t have to worry about tripping and breaking something. You had a desk with a bookshelf built around it that was full of books and video games and figurines, and one of those desktop computers with the rainbow lights on the tower. Your bed was neatly made, adorned with overstuffed pillows, with a storage bench at the foot that was currently being commandeered by a collection of plushies dressed like pirates. The bed itself looked wide enough for two, though he might have to get a little creative to make it work with his taller height.

Not that. He was thinking about laying next to you. Or holding you close. Or watching you fall asleep.

(He absolutely was thinking those things. But in his bed, not yours. What could he say? He needed his California King. It wasn’t perfect, but he couldn’t afford one of the fancy custom beds that other city dwellers somehow got their hands on.)

Bartolomeo resolved that breaking in was fine, so long as he always took off his boots (couldn’t rightfully wear shoes into your apartment now, could he?) and didn’t touch anything. That way you’d never know. He stuck to that for the first handful of trips. Then one time he couldn’t resist picking up and fawning over your monkey plushie at the foot of the bed, so he decided it was okay to touch things, but he had to put them back exactly as he found them. Before he knew it, one day he was poking around the jewelry trays on your dresser, and...

He only had the top drawer open for a minute. Two, tops. Any longer and he would have gotten dizzy from how much blood was rushing downwards. He slammed it shut and made a beeline for the fire escape, nearly forgetting his boots in the process. He told himself he wouldn’t be looking in there without your permission, otherwise the temptation would be too great and he'd steal something he really shouldn’t.

(Which is why he eventually stole your shirt instead.)

Okay. So Bartolomeo let his little guilty pleasure get out of control. He just hadn’t realized how easily that happened. Now that you said something to him, he was going to ease off. He pushed up off the couch and sauntered to his room, putting his hands back in his pockets, flinching when one hand touched something he forgot he’d still had on his person. Frowning, he pulled the perfume bottle out, a slight twist in his stomach at the thought he’d frustrated you with his antics. He really hadn’t intended to keep it — honest. He only swiped it because the shirt under his pillow was starting to smell like the rest of his stuff. Not necessarily a bad thing, as it wasn’t like he was unclean (he was unkempt and dirty minded, even peed in the shower sometimes, but not unclean), but. The whole reason he took the shirt was because it smelled like you.

He turned the bottle over in his hands and sat on the edge of his bed. The label on it just said “Elegia” — why couldn’t the names of these things be simple? Fucking vanilla, or flowers, or whatever, so that he could put it back and get something similar. He supposed at least this way he could try to find another bottle online, so he could get it exact, but still... what a pain. Point being, if it had been easier to remember the name, he wouldn’t have had to take it.

...Okay, fine, Bartolomeo stole it thinking you wouldn’t notice. You had a few others, he figured it’d be fine.

With a sigh he reached under his pillows for your shirt, unable to keep from smiling when he saw it. It was light purple, with the words “Bite Me” on it in a black, drippy font. He saw you wear it on laundry day once; it took an immeasurable amount of self control not to take it as an invitation. He then uncapped the perfume and sighed again, his eyes rolling back just a bit. At least he guessed right; this was definitely the one you wore the most often. It smelled like vanilla and strawberries.

Like you.

Shaking out of his reverie, he sprayed the shirt and folded it back up under his pillows. It had been in his possession for too long for him to give it up without arousing suspicion, so he’d settle for returning the perfume.

While you were gone, of course.

[medusapelagia]

This is my contribution to the Harringrove Relay Race

Thank you @thatgirlwithasquid for preceding!

Perfectly Misaligned

written for @harringrove-relay-race Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve /Billy TW: violence (Billy slaps Steve), hurt/comfort Word Count: 6859

Now also on AO3

Going camping seemed like a nice idea, at least at the beginning.

The few happy memories Steve had as a kid were when his father wasn't the world's most famous heart surgeon and instead of traveling around to save lives he used to take him camping for a night or two just after school ended. It was their “boys' time”, as his father used to call it, winking at him while he giggled at the comradery between the two of them. And Steve loved every second of it: from the moment Richard Harrington announced that they were leaving for the weekend, to the moment the man parked his car back in the garage. That's why, as soon as Steve and Billy were released from the hospital, Steve asked Billy to go camping and he agreed on one condition: that they would go camping in California.

And that is exactly when the problems started.Even if Steve was somewhat familiar with camping areas around Hawkins, he never went camping in California so he didn't know where the best areas were and they definitely didn't have time to plan ahead where they would go. The second big problem was that Steve's and Billy's ideas of camping were really different. Steve loved the idea of the two of them alone in the wild, sleeping in a tent under the stars, lighting their own fire, making some s'more together, getting cozy by the fire while stargazing, and maybe sharing some personal stories while cuddling a bit far from curious eyes, while Billy insisted that he wanted to sleep in the campsites with all the amenities the park could offer; picnic tables, showers, water supply, and a cleared area for the tent, but definitely no privacy.

Not wanting to fight, Steve agreed to sleep in the designated area of the park, making small talk with their neighbors. But even though it was fun, it wasn't what Steve was expecting from their trip: he wanted to sleep so close to each other in their sleeping bags that they would awake almost entangled in one another, drink some beers, finally declare his love to Billy and, who knows, maybe even kiss under the stars, but being surrounded by so many people made all his dreams impossible.

The only aspect of their trip that was exactly as Steve imagined was the long hours in the car.

The only moments they have spent alone since they decided to go on this trip together were the ones in the car, but even those moments were far from pleasant for Steve. They rented a car at the airport in San Francisco and Billy hated it from the first moment he saw it, complaining that it wasn’t as good as his Camaro. But Steve didn’t complain, letting Billy put the pedal to the metal and blasting his rock music as loud as the stereo would let him, even if it gave Steve a terrible headache.

The only thing Steve asked, once he saw a picture in the park visitor center, was seeing the Alamere Falls; a beautiful waterfall that fell into the ocean was something you only see once, and after renouncing his dream trip he knew that Billy couldn't refuse him.

That's how they find themselves packing two backpacks with the essentials: maps, sunglasses, hats, jackets, flashlights, a first aid kit, matches, food, and water. Steve tries to pack their tent too, but it is too heavy and, in the end, Billy convinces him that they would not need it.

"What if it starts to rain while we are getting back?" Steve asks, looking at their tent, unsure if he should insist on bringing it with them or not.

"Come on, pretty boy! Look at the sky! Do you see a cloud? No. It's just a little hike! We will be back in no time." 

"It's a thirteen miles trail, Billy!" Steve insists, while the blond guy starts to mock him for being too anxious. Steve is almost ready to remind him that being too unprepared is exactly what almost got him killed in a secret Russian base, but he doesn’t want to remember what happened at the mall and how it was sheer luck the Mind Flayer didn't kill them all, so he sighs and shrugs, ready to leave with Billy. Before walking to the car he turns toward the nice family that has the tent just next to theirs and tells them that they are going hiking to Alamere Falls.

"That sounds nice," Sarah, the young mother, replies while holding little Darla who is desperately trying to get into Steve's arms "Have fun boys!" 

Steve nods and finally walks to the car.

"Took your time, huh Harrington? What was that? Are you flirting with moms now?"

Steve doesn't reply, getting in the car and ready for Billy’s jealousy. As if on cue the other boy starts the car, letting the engine roar as he drives way too fast for a little parking lot in a park. Steve doesn't complain, though, instead his mind goes to  the waterfall he saw in the brochure. He wonders if he should have brought a pair of swim trunks too, but he quickly decides that, if they get in the mood, they can always swim in their underwear. After all, they have shared lockers for years.

***

They take the wrong turn twice, all Steve's fault in Billy's opinion because he is the one holding the map. Steve raises an eyebrow, not commenting on the fact that the California boy turned left even if Steve told him to turn right so now he is using his hands to show where to go. turn here, hand to the left, turn there, hand to the right.

Steve is already pissed when they get to the parking area, saying that they should go back to camp and maybe even back home, after all this vacation was a disaster from the beginning, but Billy is adamant.

"You want to see the waterfall so we will see the waterfall," Billy declares, closing the discussion by throwing Steve his backpack and putting on his own.

They start walking, Steve's eyes fixed on the map he is holding until Billy snatches it from Steve's hands.

"Stop looking at the stupid map and look around you! The view is beautiful and the colors are so vibrant! Can you hear the waves roar? I bet I can get to the waterfall faster than you!" He winks, but Steve shakes his head.

"I'm not going to take your bait, Hargrove. I ran enough for a lifetime in that fucking Russian base, and now I want to take a walk and enjoy the view, if you want to go faster I'll see you at the waterfall, or at the car if you are so fast that you get around before me." He replies calmly, and Billy's shoulders relax for once.

"I guess I'll keep you company, I don't want you to get lost." 

Steve chuckles a little and follows Billy. "Have you already been here?" He asks, seeing how confident Billy looks.

"California is big, pretty boy, I haven't seen all of it and I have never been here, but this is the only trail I see so it's not hard to follow it."

They walk in silence, avoiding tree roots and low branches, breathing in the warm scent of the earth.

"I missed this," Steve whispers so low that he is surprised when Billy turns toward him and asks him what he is referring to. "Walking around the woods and not feeling anxious, or scared," He replies, getting closer to the other boy. "I used to go camping with my dad as a kid, and when I got older I started bringing my dates to the woods. I'm the one who made Skull Rock a cool place for hooking up, did you know that?" Steve asks and Billy shakes his head "I liked it. The scent of the earth, the brightness of the stars, I really loved those woods, but that was before..."

"The Upside Down?" Billy intervenes, giving words to the thoughts Steve can't express. Steve nods, avoiding the other boy’s stare and looking at the sunlight that shines through the leaves.

"It feels like it took something from me, you know?” He continues, his eyes still fixed on the horizons. “I will never be the person I was before and I'm not talking only about the nightmares, the night terrors or the migraine attacks. I'm talking about the way I look at the world. I loved those stupid woods, and now I fear them because I know what they can hide, and some nights I go on patrol, with a flashlight and a makeshift weapon, just to check that there aren’t any demodogs lingering around. And I would never take a date to Skull Rock anymore, and I miss it. I miss laying my jacket on the ground and sitting on it while watching the stars, pointing at the few that I know and then sharing a kiss, or maybe more if I’m lucky,” Steve chuckles, then he lets out a sigh, “I miss the idea of taking my son camping, lighting a fire together, and falling asleep under the stars while I tell him a story like my father used to do."

Billy's reaches into his pocket to retrieve a cigarette that he lights under Steve's judgemental look, "Your father doesn't sound shitty as mine, but, I didn't see him in the time we were in the hospital." 

As soon as he received the call from the hospital, Richard Harrington made sure that his son and his friends had the best care Hawkins Hospital could provide but he remained in Singapore, where he was working on a new model of artificial heart.

"He is a famous doctor,” Steve explains, getting in front of Billy. “He travels the world to save lives, he doesn’t have time to lose on stupid things like that. I was fine."

Billy snorts, "You almost died, Harrington. They put you in a coma for two days to help your swollen brain and you are still going through the aftermath of that. Do you think I didn't notice that you squint when you have to read a road sign? Or that you have spasms in your hands? Why do you think I insisted on driving?"

Steve stops, staring at the other boy, wondering if it’s clear to everyone how affected he is from the injuries he sustained even if he tries his best to hide it.

"I don't..." he tries to deny in a lower voice, but Billy's brazen voice cuts him off.

"You don't what? Don't try to deny it, Harrington, we both know that it's true! And even if I'm sure things will get better once you buy a fucking pair of glasses and start taking the medicine that you are hiding in your backpack, at the moment you are a fucking mess!" He growls back at him, stepping in front of him and starting a staring contest that Steve is not going to lose.

"And what about you, Hargrove? You got possessed by an interdimensional monster! You killed people! How do you cope with that?" Steve rebukes, feeling raw and exposed to the other’s icy stare, trying to find an escape from those unforgiving eyes.

"How do I cope? I go to therapy, fucking moron!” The California boy replies, stepping even closer so that Steve and Billy are almost chest to chest. “I don't try to pretend that everything is fine and I make the government pay for every fucking thing I need! I already have a little apartment near Brown University waiting for me as soon as the semester starts and I try to accept that there are things that I cannot change but that they do not define me," He barks back. "Those things are things that happened to me and I was a fucking victim! Like Heather and her parents! And when I wake up, feeling that I deserve to die, I call the emergency number my therapist gave me and we talk for hours until I feel better," Billy takes a deep breath, giving his shoulder to Steve. "Things will never be as they were, Harrington. As you said, the Upside Down took something from us, but the only way to keep going is to accept that it's going to be part of us," Billy tells him, staring into the pretty boy’s eyes, then he takes a step back and starts following the little path again. All Steve can do is stare at his back, taking some deep breaths to calm himself before following him on their hike.

That was the longest conversation they have ever had.

It was harsh, and so real. 

For the first time, Steve realizes that he and Billy are fighting the same fight, only in different ways. Steve keeps trying to pretend that everything is fine, that he doesn't need any help, and that the part of him that he lost the night he first hit a Demogorgon didn't change him, while Billy is trying to direct his anger toward the people who should have protected them, or at least warned them about what was coming. He is taking taxpayers' money with no shame because he feels it's his right, and even if he is troubled, maybe even more than Steve, he is not going to let all that happen define him as a person and Steve is impressed. All that Billy ever knew was the fight, and now he is fighting his personal demons. What's braver than that?

Steve follows Billy's lead, his red t-shirt stands out between the green of the leaves and the brown of the ground, while cursing himself for choosing a yellow t-shirt that attracts every kind of insect, especially mosquitos, as all the red bumps on his arms can prove. The more they venture into the woods the more the path becomes smaller and harder, and when Billy almost slips down a cliff, Steve dares to ask Billy if he is really sure that they are on the right path.

"How should I know?" He retorts, glaring at him. "I told you I have never been to this stupid waterfall before!" He reminds him, as Steve stares at him in astonishment.

"But you... you threw away my map!" He yells, feeling the panic getting to him. He didn't pay attention to their direction, and he didn't take notice of landmarks that could help him find their way around, they are going to get lost in the forest and he hasn't brought the tent, and the animals will find them, and all they have is one little pen knife, and maybe he should give it to Billy, he is stronger than him and his hands don't tremble so maybe he might have a possibility to survive and...

"Hey, pretty boy! Look at me."

Someone is talking to Steve but his vision is tunneled and his heart is beating so hard that it feels like it's going to jump out of his chest, and he can't breathe and...

"Steve! Look at me!"

The voice insists and in his blurred vision he sees a pair of ice blue eyes staring back at him with intensity.

"Steve!" The voice calls again, "You have to slow your breathing or you'll pass out!"

How could he slow his breathing if it feels like the forest is closing in on him like a monstrous green mouth that will devour them both and...

Steve's cheek burns while he takes his first big breath. He puts a hand to his face and realizes that he was slapped.

"What the fuck?!" He yells, but Billy is standing in front of him, holding his t-shirt in a tight grip and with a hand in mid-air, ready to slap him again.

"What the fuck?! You gave yourself a panic attack, idiot! I tried to talk you out of it but guess what? The King doesn't listen to anyone! So I slapped you, and it worked! So stop complaining and keep breathing like a fucking normal person!" Billy yells back, finally releasing Steve's t-shirt but leaving the cotton crumpled from the force he was holding it.

"I'm breathing..." Steve replies, meekly, ashamed about what happened.

"Thank god..." The other mutters, keeping his eyes pinned on Steve. "Why the fuck did you do that? You were the one that wanted to see the stupid waterfall, weren't you?"

Steve would like to explain to him that yes, he wanted to see the waterfall, but that he wasn't ready to get lost in the forest, but he knows that Billy will probably make fun of him so he whispers his apologies for the inconvenience of almost blacking out in the middle of nowhere and keeps following Billy, who now seems to be walking slower and is just a couple of steps ahead of him. They walk through a narrow maze of tall shrubs and vines that makes them both shiver because it reminds them too closely about the Upside Down. 

They finally get to a clearing only for their glee to suddenly die when they see that they will have to go down a narrow eroding cliff.

"We can go back..." Steve suggests but Billy shakes his head.

"We are almost there and we are not going to give up right now!" He hisses, almost slipping while he tries to go down the cliff. Steve holds his breath till he sees him safely on the sand.

"Come on, pretty boy! Are you going to make me wait forever?"

With a big sigh, Steve begins his descent, scratching his hands on the sharp rocks, complaining with himself for his stupid idea, and when he finally gets to the shore he finds Billy smoking another cigarette.

"What? It's good for my health!"

"Smoking is definitely not good for your health," Steve snorts.

"My mental health!" Billy insists, dragging some smoke with his plump lips.

When they finally get to the falls they rest a bit, eating Steve's granola bars and drinking some water.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Steve asks, looking in amazement at the energy of the water that falls to the ground with a humid mist that fills the air.

"It is," Billy agrees. After a long moment of silence, he asks "What were you worried about?" Steve stares at him blankly, trying to understand what he is referring to. “In the forest. When you panicked.”

"I didn't panic! I... I got a little anxious," Steve tries to deny, ignoring Billy's scoff. "I was anxious because I was scared we got lost, ok? Going hiking is fun but it can be dangerous too, there are so many things you should keep an eye on."

"Like what? Where do you put your feet?" Billy mocks him but Steve nods.

"Yes. And not just that,” He says, pointing to the beautiful nature around them "In a place like this you must pay attention to the tide, to the ocean... and the animals too! There might be coyotes, bobcats, and mountain lions." 

Billy lifts an eyebrow, "Never knew you were a nature nerd, Harrington." 

Steve doesn't reply. He is not a nature nerd, he is just the kind of person that wants to come prepared, and after all they have lived through with the Upside Down shit, Billy should get it more than anyone else.

"Ready to get back to the car?" Billy asks, his hands on his knees while he gets up like an old man, suffocating a whimper. Steve feels guilty because he forced Billy to join him on this journey while he is still recovering from his injuries too. For a moment he wonders if he should offer to help him, but Billy is too proud and Steve knows that he will get offended, so he gets up quietly, staring at the clouds moving in the sky, wondering if they'll manage to get to the car before the storm starts.

***

If climbing down wasn't easy, climbing up is even harder. Steve's feet slip on the friable ground and he almost falls back just before getting on the top. Thankfully, Billy grabs his arm and drags him toward safety, but they both fall to the ground in an entangled mess of libs.

"You ok?" Billy asks him, and for a moment the California boy seems almost worried about him.

"I'm fine. Sorry, I slipped," Steve murmurs, hiding his blushing face in the crock of Billy's neck for a moment, breathing in his familiar and comforting scent.

"I noticed. Now get the fuck up. You are squashing me!" Billy protests and Steve quickly gets up, offering him a hand that Billy slaps away before getting up on his own. "A storm is coming, we better get moving."  

Now that the sky is getting darker, following the same path they followed before is harder. Billy keeps saying that they are almost at the car but Steve is sure that he saw that strange red rock at least twice.

"Billy, stop it! We are going in circles!" 

"We are not!" The other protests, continuing to go toward what he says is the right path.

"Listen to me! We have to stop before we get even more lost!" Steve insists, but Billy keeps ignoring him, so he catches up to Billy and grabs his arm. Billy spins around, his eyes shining with fury. "We are fucking lost in the middle of the forest! A storm is coming and we don't have a tent! We need to find shelter and we need to find it now!" Steve hisses.

The blond boy is seething with rage but he can't deny that Steve is right, so he gives him a little nod and frees himself from Steve's grip before turning and starting to look for a place where they could wait for the storm to pass.

"That tree seems big enough." Billy says, pointing toward a big tree a few feet away.

"You don't want to wait for a storm under a tree, trust me," Steve says, looking around. He remembers seeing a little cave somewhere and he really hopes that it's near. Retracing their steps, Steve tries to follow their path backwards, smiling at himself when he finds the same red rock he saw before.

"We are going backwards," Billy protests, but keeps following Steve until they find the little cave.

It is hot and humid inside but there aren't any animals so it's the best place they can be. Steve goes inside and removes his backpack, then he turns toward Billy, "Get inside. I'm going to search for something to use to make a small fire to keep us warm."

Steve doesn't wait for a reply and leaves the blond in the cave while he looks around for anything that might be useful. These are not Hawkins woods but some things are the same, so he tries to avoid poisonous plants and wild animals and gets back with a few branches while the sky begins to rumble.

After a few moments, the storm starts and it rains heavily, while they are safely inside the cave.

"Are you going to start this stupid fire or what?" Billy protests, but Steve shakes his head.

"It's not too cold and there is still light, I want to save the wood for as long as I can because with this rain all the rest of the wood will be soaked and we will not be able to get more," Steve explains to him, while holding his leg to his chest and staring at the rain. It's not too bad, he thinks to himself, they have water, a little bit of food, shelter and even fire if they need it. He also made sure that Sarah, their neighbor, knew where they were going so Steve is not too worried, just a little pissed. Not only is the vacation not as he expected it to be, but thanks to Billy's reckless behavior they are stuck in a stupid cave, waiting for the weather to get better.

"What?" Billy growls. 

Steve turns toward him, his blue eyes shine in the darkness and he looks like a snake ready to bite. "I didn't say anything."

"You are a really expressive guy, Harrington." He replies, taking a cigarette from his pocket and lightening it, and that's the straw that breaks the camel's back. Steve snatches it and throws it outside "What the fuck?!" Billy complains furiously.

"Take another one and I'll throw away the entire packet of cigarettes," Steve threatens him.

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

They glare at each other in a staring contest that neither wants to lose and in the end, it is Steve that looks away, trying to get to the farthest part of the cave, but it's so small that their legs bump before he finally gets on the opposite side of the cave.

Steve turns toward the opening of the cave, trying to hide the tears in his eyes. Nothing has gone as he wished and he is starting to think that he got everything wrong; that Billy hates him for real, and that he accepted coming with him only out of pity not because he was really willing to spend some time with him.

Stupid, stupid Steve!

How could he believe that someone could have ever fallen in love with him? It wasn't love that got them closer while at the hospital, it was the trauma, and now that Billy is doing far better than Steve they have nothing more in common.

Billy must sense the shift in Steve's attitude because when he calls his name his voice is way kinder than before.

"Steve?" He calls again, getting closer to him.

Steve can't take it anymore and runs out into the rain, trying to escape his feelings, but his bleeding heart aches so badly that he knows there is no cure. He will survive, he is sure of it, but nothing will be the same, not after he made a fool out of himself. Thank god he didn't confess his feelings to Billy. He would have mocked him cruelly for his stupid crush.

Because it was a crush, ok? Just a crush! Nothing more! Not... love.

He slips and falls to the ground, hitting his head on a rock while he gets mud everywhere.

For a moment he remains still, lying in the mud while the rain keeps pouring down on him. He wonders how he got there, crying in the rain, with his face in the mud, but then there are hands helping him up and blue eyes staring back at him.

"Steve! Fuck! Are you ok?!" Billy is kneeling at his side, cradling his face like it is the most precious thing in the world. "Don't move! Let me check your wound." He scolds him, brushing away his hair "You are bleeding a little, but it doesn't look serious. How do you feel? Lightheaded or what?" Steve stares blankly at Billy while the boy gets anxious. "Maybe I'm wrong and it’s worse than it looks. You should see a doctor. Don't worry I'll take care of everything. I can find the car, I know I can, and then I'll drive you to the closest hospital and..."

"I'm fine,” Steve replies, pushing him away. “I just don't understand what you are doing here."

Billy studies his face for a moment, "Maybe you hit your head harder than I thought. We were hiking, Steve, do you remember?"

"Of course, I do, dickhead!" He hisses, punching him in the shoulder. "I'm just confused because I don't understand why you are here, with me, in the rain, while you could have stayed in the cave where it is warm and..."

"Steve! You bolted out of that fucking cave without saying a word! I was fucking worried, ok?!"

"Why?! You hate me! You agreed to go on a trip with me out of pity and..."

One moment Steve is staring at Billy, trying to understand why the boy followed him, and the next thing he knows is there is a hot mouth on his shushing him and taking his breath away.

"Billy..."

"Can you shut the fuck up for a moment?" Billy asks, his icy blue eyes still pinned on Steve's chocolate one. "I'm sorry for the way I reacted. I really thought that I could have guided you to the waterfall and back and I'm so fucking angry with myself that I can't cope with that and I have to give the fault to someone else, and the only other person here it's you and... It wasn't fair, ok? We would be in deep shit if you didn't pack our bags and had brought water, food, and everything we might need. And I'm sorry for criticizing you and trying to get into a fight, ok? I'm sorry." Billy takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before adding, "Fighting is still the first answer to anything that happens to me and I'm very sorry that you have to deal with all my shit, but when I saw you run into the rain for no reason I worried, ok? I thought you were having an episode or something, and I followed you and now... god... now I really hope I haven't made the biggest mistake of my life because if these feelings are not mutual then I'm not really sure I want to get back to the car," He concludes with a cackle.

"Feelings?" Maybe Steve did hit his head really hard because this can only be a dream, even if it's the saddest dream ever; he is shivering with cold under the rain, has mud on his face and his clothes, and a nasty bump on his forehead.

"I have feelings for you Steve, I always did, since the first time I saw you on that basketball court." Billy tells him, their faces so close to each other that Steve can feel his breath on his skin.

"You do?" Steve asks again, brushing some wet curls away from Billy's beautiful face.

"I do." Billy bites his lips before daring to ask, "Do you?"

"I do," Steve replies with a beaming smile. He leans forward to kiss Billy again, slowly, taking the time to savor Billy's taste on his tongue. Steve sinks his fingers deep into the blond curls, holding him tight like he was worried that he could disappear at any moment.

They are wet, cold, and dirty, but none of that matters when Billy's tongue licks Steve's lips, asking for permission that the pretty boy gladly gives him, opening his mouth and letting Billy explore and taste as long as he likes, shivering in pleasure.

It's their first real kiss and it has nothing to do with the romantic image that Steve had in his mind when he started to plan this trip, but it doesn't matter because that was just a fantasy, while this is real.

One kiss turns into two, three, four. They would have probably kept kissing if it wasn't for the rain, so when Billy suggests getting back to the cave, Steve begrudgingly nods and follows him. Luckily, their backpacks are dry, so the first thing that Billy does is help Steve out of his wet clothes and give him some dry ones, then he cleans the cut on his forehead and covers it with a band-aid, before kissing it better and finally takes some dry clothes for himself too.

They look a little bit silly in their underwear and wind jacket while the t-shirts and the pants are discarded in a corner of the cave. Steve suggests lighting a little fire to keep them warm and try to dry the clothes and the blond boy looks at him astonished while he lights a fire in a few calculated moves.

"You are full of surprises, aren't you, pretty boy?"

Steve feels his cheek blush and tries to hide his face, but Billy is quick and grabs his chin between his fingers. "No hiding from me, baby," He whispers while the flames shimmer in his eyes.

"Sorry..." He murmurs back.His apologies are welcomed with a big smile and a soft peck on the tip of his nose.

"Tell me, little boy scout, how long do you think this storm will last?" Billy asks, getting closer to Steve. He puts an arm around Steve’s shoulders, and the rich boy relaxes against the broad chest.

"Don't know, but I don't think it will last for long, the clouds are moving pretty fast so it should be short. I'm more worried about how we will get to the car with all that mud, but I imagine we will find a way," He replies, getting more comfortable and letting himself be held for the first time in years.

They must doze off because when Steve opens his eyes the sky is dark and full of stars. He frees himself from Billy's arms and slowly goes outside. The trees obscure the view a little, but there are so many stars looking down at him that he can't complain. Maybe he will not be able to point to some famous constellation, but the view is still breathtaking.

"Are you already trying to run away from me?" A sleepy voice asks. When he turns Billy is brushing his eyes, yawning.

"Look," Steve says, pointing at the sky but keeping his eyes pinned on Billy to see the expression of wonders that paint his face.

"That's... incredible," The blond boy whispers. "I used to go to some bonfires when I was younger, to drink a couple of beers and flirt with some girls. I thought I saw a lot of stars on those nights, but I was wrong."

"You were probably too close to the city lights," Steve explains, regretting that the ground is still wet and they can't lie and look at the stars. Another part of his plan gone wrong.

"Do you want to try to go back to the car?" Billy asks, interpreting his sad expression in the wrong way.

"No, it's better if we stay here at least till dawn, it's too dangerous to try to get back by night even if we have the flashlights." 

Billy nods, it's the sensible thing to do, and it has nothing to do with the opportunity to share more kisses away from prying eyes.

When Steve feels that his hunger for kisses has been satisfied he dares to ask "So Brown University, uh?"

"It's far enough and it's a very good university," Billy replies, playing with Steve's hair. "I was ready to move to Antarctica if I needed to." Billy's father... Well, Billy's father is not a good father and Steve can see why he is trying to get away from him. "I'm worried for the shitbird," He adds after a long moment of silence. "But Neil never beat a woman before and I'm pretty sure that Susan is clever enough to get a divorce and take the house, so I guess they will be fine."

Rhode Island. So fucking far from Indiana.

"What about you? Are you going to scoop ice cream all your life?"

"Actually... Robin found us a job. Family Video. Nothing fancy but it pays the bills."

Billy snorts "You live in your parents' house and have no fucking bills to pay! What the hell are you talking about?!"

"Well, my father is trying to teach me a lesson about responsibility and..."

A loud laugh interrupts him “Responsibility? Your father? The one that sends you money and leaves you alone in that enormous house?"

"You don't know him! He is a very famous surgeon and..."

"I don't need to know him, Steve. I know you! And I know he wasn't here when we fought and you got that concussion and I know that he wasn't at your bedside when you woke up from the coma! And you know how I know?! Because I was there!" He yells and Steve tries to make himself smaller and hide from Billy's anger. "Sorry... I'm... I'm sorry. But I don't get why you keep defending him when..."

"He doesn't know," Steve replies, avoiding Billy's stare.

"What?!"

"When I got the concussion Owens' team took care of me so there is no trace that it ever happened and I never told my parents," Steve sighs, staring at the embers of their little fire. "Hopper kept an eye on me, and I was fine, so there was no need to worry them. And this time... I'm nineteen years old, legally an adult, so I signed a document stating that I didn't want them to talk about my conditions with my parents if it wasn't a life or death situation and I'm still here, so it wasn't so bad after all."

Billy groans loudly, and the hug he gives Steve is almost violent.

"I fucking hate this self-sacrificial shit you are up to, you know that, right? No, don't interrupt me. We are not fine Steve, none of us are, and you don't have to deal with all this shit alone." He turns Steve's face toward himself, "Come with me. The apartment is big enough for the two of us."

"And what am I supposed to do, Billy? I'm not a genius like you! I hardly graduated!" He protests, trying to get away from him, but Billy holds him tight.

"You are a fucking war hero, Steve! I’m sure that with some government help we could bend the rules and get you enrolled with a full scholarship in no time! Once there I'll help you with your studies, and if you really hate it there, you could always get back to Hawkins."

Steve raises an eyebrow, “Are you really willing to live with me and help me with my studies?"

Billy smirks, "Well, the idea was to do something more than just help you study, you know?"

Steve bursts out in a loud laugh, "That wasn't subtle, like, at all!" 

He is still giggling when they hear voices in the night calling their name.

"What?" Billy asks, confused, while Steve rushes to get their pants and tries to get dressed as fast as he can.

"I told Sarah where we were going and she told us to get back soon. I think she was worried when she didn't see us back to our tent." For a moment Steve curses himself and his way of trying to be prepared for every emergency. "Billy... What will happen when we get out of this forest? I mean... When we get back to Hawkins?"

Billy grabs him by his arm and yanks him against him, kissing him with passion.

"Does that answer your question?"

Steve would reply that he needs more, just to be sure, but the rescuers are almost there so they split apart and get out of the cave, waving their flashlights.

When the rescuers finally reach them, they blame them for not having a map with them.

“I fucking hate that trail,” one of the park rangers complains, “I wish they’ll close it once and for all. It always gives us a terrible headache.” he says, then he turns toward the boys, “You are lucky you didn’t injure yourself too badly.”  he adds, glaring at them while guiding them back to their car.

The sun is shining when they finally get back to their tent. Sarah is so relieved that she hugs them both tight and scolds them once more before leaving with her family because their vacation just ended.

Billy stares at their tent for a long moment before asking, "Would you like to sleep in a motel? I saw one just a few miles before the park. We can come back tomorrow to pick up our stuff." And if Steve wasn't already in love with Billy that would probably be the moment he falls for him. He nods eagerly and gets back to the car, ready to rest in a real bed after their little adventure in the forest.

The motel is seedy and smells really bad, but Steve doesn't care; all he wants is to get some sleep but all the emotions from the day make it hard to fall asleep.

Billy is resting on the bed next to his with his eyes closed but Steve can tell that he is not sleeping at all.

"Billy?"

"Yeah?"

"Were you serious?”

“Huh?”

“ Were you serious when you asked me to come with you?"

Billy turns to Steve, staring into his eyes, "I was. Are you thinking about it?"

"Maybe."

Billy gives him a smug smile, "Maybe is enough. We still have a few days of vacation and I'm sure I can transform that maybe into a yes if you will give me the opportunity."

Steve smiles back and in his heart, he already knows that he will agree, but for the moment they rest while holding hands for the first time.

Please look forward to the amazing work from the next contributor: @callieb

[bobcatmoran]

Back from a trip to Palm Springs, California, staying at the house my parents were renting for the winter, which, totally unplanned, overlapped with Modernism Week there. For those who've never been to Palm Springs, it's a town that's very, VERY of that era from post-WWII - 1970s, and there's a significant population of the town that is, shall we say, enamoured of that era of architecture. If you've seen "Don't Worry Darling," it was mostly filmed on site in Palm Springs, and large swaths of the town are to a not-insignificant degree just as unnerving as the environment in that film.

I went to a couple of free lectures on various bits of that era, thanks to the event. And don't get me wrong, there's some seriously amazing buildings that came out of it, and the modernism movement's embracing of merging outdoor and indoor spaces while, especially in those bulidings built in the pre-A/C era, trying to work with both the local climate and the stunning views from the valley and the nearby hillsides.

But despite my dad's reassurances that, "This town is built over an aquifer, so we don't need to worry about water," I was very aware that this was a town built in a desert environment that cannot possibly sustainably hold the expanding population that lives there, especially if people insist on keeping grass lawns and pools — a great many houses I saw had xeriscaped yards with gravel and local flora, but the many, many local golf courses certainly didn't.

I also tired quickly of tours of, "This is where [celebrity] lived!" where you could see little more than a 7-foot high hedge or fence and maybe a sliver of rooftop, since Palm Springs' bulding codes don't allow for buildings more than 1 story tall unless you know somebody or find a loophole like one celebrity house that has a 2nd story that only has 3 walls. The area was a refuge for Hollywood stars during the studio system era, and there still are a couple who live there today in gated communities, but most of those formerly celebrity-occupied-houses now are mostly hidden except for a mailbox and like, the top foot of the roofs. My celebrity-obsessed stepmom nevertheless decided to take us on a tour of them.

It all made me uneasy, especially with the glorification of an era where my very existence, as a biracial Japanese-American, would've held me suspect by my birth alone. Heck, even when my parents married in the mid-70s, my grandparents on both sides got a lot of not-so-subtle commentary from "well-meaning" family friends and neighbors about, "Do you know your son/daughter is marrying someone of a different race?"

However! those bits of the local environment that have been preserved are amazing. I went to Joshua Tree National Park, and marveled at the uncanny rock formations (geologic uplifts of granite and other igneous rocks eroded away by the wind until they look like backgrounds from The Flintstones) and the Dr. Seuss-esque Joshua Trees, which don't even grow an inch per year. I wandered through a "forest" of chola cacti, elbow-high, bristling with easily detachable orbs that could cling painfully to you if you only brushed against them, saw traces of cattle ranchers that had attempted to make a living there during a relatively wet period in the 1920s and then fled as the climate dried out. I took guided tours up the Tahquitz and Andreas Canyons, which are both managed by the Aqua Caliente band of Cahuilla Indians and are each amazing in their own way. I learned about the first recorded human explorations of the area and how the Cahuilla used the local plants for food and medicine and shelter. If you're ever in the area, If you're able to handle the hikes (Tahquitz in particular has a LOT of steep steps up and down), I highly, highly recommend the ranger hikes, which absolutely change your perspective of the area.

[gon-and-killuas-mother]

i'm nearly done moving everything to my dad's house. just gotta go back to the apartment today to get all the leftover stuff and do some cleaning.

my body is very against the idea, yesterday was insanely difficult on me. but bc my friends are wonderful, i am in much better shape than i would've been otherwise. at the expense of their own fatigue and body pain, they made sure i took enough breaks and that i didn't take too many trips up and down the stairs. if i'd tried to help like i wanted to, i doubt i'd even be mobile today.

once everyone had gone home and i had to swing back by the apartment last night for a couple more things (like the cat food someone forgot to put in the car) i did take a moment to say goodbye to the apartment. i know it's an inanimate thing, but i have carried this accumulated trauma over moving since i was little. between the divorce(s) and the frequent changes of houses, i was able to make a safe space for myself in each home only to have to pack it up again a year or two later. kid me never got to grieve properly, or say goodbye to the houses. my homes.

so last night, i wept alone in the almost empty apartment. it was my first solo home, and it saw me through some of the hardest, most painful times of my life. but it also saw me grow into a more confident adult, someone who wasn't afraid to take up space anymore.

i couldn't be more grateful for that year-and-a-half of living on my own. after a lifetime of tucking myself inward to be more convenient to my family and then later to my roommates, i learned how to be comfortable with myself. i made friends with my neighbors. i was, for a while, independent and free.

now, though, i have to accept that i can no longer support myself. my body can't take the extra work of keeping a job, doing my chores, running errands, and staying healthy all on top of my disabilities. moving back into one of my childhood homes is a bizarre experience. i got home very late this morning after that trip back to the apartment, and had to creep quietly through the dark to not wake anyone up. the same smells, the same creaks and groans of the floors and stairs, the same hums of the AC, everything i remembered from childhood almost overwhelmed me.

luckily, my new room is in the downstairs "condo" my dad had built for my sister and her niece. it's made of two rooms, a bedroom and part of the den that used to make up half of the downstairs area. it's honestly bigger than my entire apartment, plus the bathroom i'm using is across the hall with the laundry room and the kitchen is upstairs, so my two rooms are all my living space rather than amenities.

my knees aren't going to enjoy the little hill between my car and the front door, nor the stairs. but now, if my body says "no stairs today", i'll have my brother and my dad to bring me whatever i might need.

now if only i could figure out how i'm gonna pay that last months rent on time ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

lastly. this might be the best possible time to start writing my book. if i can't work, and i can't do much other than stay home tending to my body, then this could be a good moment for me to word-vomit some rough drafts. and Dad would probably be pretty supportive, he's also a self published writer and has always appreciated my interest in writing. i may even let him read some of my drafts except for the possible steamy sections no way is he reading those

anyway. long day, long weekend, ready to start this new chapter of my life. saying goodbye to a home is, somehow, harder to me than saying goodbye to a person. maybe bc there's no going back? idk. signing off.

[hskrealm]

sugar? (m.)

𓆩♱𓆪 pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

𓆩♱𓆪 genre: horror, smut, just a bit of crack

𓆩♱𓆪 word count: 5k

𓆩♱𓆪 warnings: extremely heavy trigger warnings, cnc themes (reader does not consent to events that happen within the sexual scenes), aggressive behavior, 0 to 100 really fucking fast, murder / murder themes, language, etc.

𓆩♱𓆪 summary: it’s time to meet your neighbor.

———> a/n: i’m serious, this is some heavy stuff. do not read if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable. if you decide to read on, i hope you enjoy.

"Shit." This was the last box in your car, and you nearly tripped over yourself trying to push it into the corner. You slump over onto the floor, careful not to bust your ass on your way down. You'd been moving all day, you were starving, and your feet were on fucking fire.

You take a moment to catch your breath, pulling your knees up to your chest as you stare out into the hallway of your new room.

Yeah, you were moving. It had been forever since your last move, but this time, you had a roommate. You'd met her during your first year of college, and the two of you collectively decided to move off campus and rent an apartment together. Crazy decision, it appeared, but the two of you made it work.

You'd been extremely close to her since you met during orientation, and moving in together seemed like a step in the right direction.

"It looks a little bare." You snap your head up a bit, your roommate propped up against the doorframe with her hands on her hips. Not having the energy to carry a decent conversation, you nod once.

"Of course, we'll have to add decorations, give it the whole nine, and it'll look great." She continues on as she approaches you, and offers you her hand. You grab it, and she pulls most of your weight off of the ground on her own.

"It's so quiet here." You finally speak. It was the middle of the day, (on a Friday) when you two started moving your things in, and you hadn't seen a single person your age around the complex anywhere. You were beginning to think you'd moved into an area that might've been well known for housing old people.

"We just got here. We'll have to find out where the hot spots are later, after we've gotten comfortable with the place." You give a quick look around the room where all of your belongings sat, and you tsk.

"It might take a while for that." You respond. She nudges your side, and you shrug.

"You did get the bigger bedroom though. That's a start." She begins, examining the space where you two stood.

"It's also the room closest to the front door. If someone were to come in here, they'd kill me first, I'm certain." She laughs at your response, and walks in a small circle around you, motioning her head toward the window in the room.

"Maybe, or you could be luring someone into murder you by giving them the exact layout of your room." You follow her eyes, and notice that the blinds of the window were open.

"You know I didn't open them myself." You speak, walking over to the window to twist the rod and shut the blinds. You hated having the sunlight wake you up, and you were never the type to open them without reason. Especially considering that you were just moving in, opening the blinds was definitely not going to happen.

"I'm just fucking with you." She pauses, and you turn to face her again.

"Maybe." You shove at her shoulder, and walk past her to leave the room. She follows behind you, and the two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments. It was as if you were both reminiscing on what your futures could hold here, together. You were still quite young, so anything could be subject to change, and you were okay with that.

One life, live it.

"We got everything moved in, that was the goal, I can't do anything else." Your friend hums in agreement from behind you, and you watch her glance toward the front door; probably to ensure that one of you had locked it beforehand. It was a habit she'd picked up from you. Of course, when you live in such close confinement with someone, you're bound to pick up some things from them. From her, you received the inability to flirt.

You always had that, though.

"I'm headed to bed. Wake up early tomorrow so we can be ready to head out and get some breakfast." Considering you just moved in, you had no food. Plus, you could hear a freshly cooked waffle calling your name. God, you were starving.

"Alright, see you in the morning. Love you." You return her sentiment, and the two of you part for the night. You could practically hear your mattress screaming for you to settle into it, and you were prepared to do just that.

----

Much to your dismay, you were still woken up by the sun peering at you through the blinds. Even though you'd closed them, the glare still managed to wake you from your sleep.

With an annoyed groan, you roll over onto your side, and grab your phone to check the time. It was 8:03 am.

Even though you'd wanted to wake up early, you forgot to set an alarm last night due to your tiredness. Maybe the sun wasn't such a bad thing, in that case.

No, it definitely was.

You roll out of your bed, and head into the bathroom to take care of your business. You take a shower, brush your teeth, wash your face, and doll yourself up for the day. You should have checked up on your roommate to make sure she was awake so you two could leave on time, but the thought slipped your mind. By the time you finished, it was 9:27 am.

You stand in front of your mirror to make sure you didn't have a hair out of place. Once you were sure you were content, you decide to peek into your best friend's room to make sure she was awake. When you heard the sink running, you nodded to yourself, and returned back to your bedroom.

Upon reentering your room, you hear faint talking outside of your window. It was loud enough for you to be certain that someone was there, but not distinct enough for you to understand what was being said.

You get closer to the window, and try to peer through the blinds without opening them. Upon realizing that you could not see a single thing, you open the blinds slightly, and quickly close them afterward.

You take a few seconds to rearrange your thoughts, before peeking through the blinds again.

Fuck.

There was someone there, absolutely.

At this stage of your life, you were still trying to decipher if you were really into men, but you were certainly into this one.

You couldn't see his face very well, but you did see a small, bushy tailed animal running around outside with him. After a few moments of long, hard staring, you were able to make it out as a cat.

God, you really hoped no one could see you looking through the blinds at this man like a weirdo.

He was attractive. He was wearing a black, loose shirt with a pair of black cargo pants, even though it had to have been at least 90 degrees. He had on thick, heavy black boots which probably added about three or so inches to his height. Even then, he was likely taller than you.

When he angled himself to face you, you could see what appeared to be a full sleeve of tattoos, or at least a half sleeve. You changed your position a bit, aiming to get a better view of his face. He had soft, full lips. When he opened his mouth wider, you saw a quick glimpse of metal before he closed it again.

God, did he have a tongue piercing?

He stopped moving for a moment, and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. He stood completely still, and so did you. It wasn’t until you realized that he was walking closer to your window that you widened your eyes comically, and sank onto the floor with a quiet curse.

Silence.

It was so quiet.

You move to peek again, wondering if you scared the boy away, until you hear three light knocks against the window.

He knows, fuck. He definitely does.

Owning up to your decision to spy on him in the first place, you decide to pull the blinds up completely, lifting the window up as well, so there was no barrier between the two of you any longer.

Well, there was still the screen behind the window, but now, the two of you were face to face, and man.

He was so fucking cute.

He had an eyebrow piercing, long black hair that was a tousled mess (but he still managed to wear it well), and his features were probably sculpted by an angel that had too much time on their hands.

You wondered what you looked like at this moment; on your knees in front of your window, getting caught gawking at some random boy who just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

He picks up the cat with one hand, and the kitty meows softly, beginning to take gentle bites at his finger. He maintains firm eye contact with you, however, and you're wondering if he's about to question your choice of hobbies, when a large smile spreads across his face.

"You like cats, huh?" He says, and you resist the urge to widen your eyes again. He had such a distinct, boyish voice, which seemed to be a major contrast from his appearance. You appreciated the difference, though.

Seeing as he was the first person around your age you'd seen so far, you were trying your best to keep your cool, and avoid any further awkwardness.

"Uh, yeah. I do, I just didn't know there was someone else out there. Figured it may have been a stray." He hums as you speak and nods his head. He examines you for a moment, before silence falls over the two of you once more.

"I don't think I've seen you around before, and I'd remember if I had." You raise an eyebrow at this. Would he remember you because he found you attractive, or because there weren't many young adults around?

"Yeah, my friend and I just moved in yesterday, actually. Trying to settle into the place." You run your hands down your thighs. You desperately wanted to stand, but you'd be standing, talking to a headless body on the other side.

The stranger could sense this, it seemed, because he also raised an eyebrow at the way you were sat on the ground.

"It's pretty unfortunate that we had to meet through a window, isn't it? Stand up, you don't need to be on the ground. I'll bend down." He says, opening his arms to let the cat run free.

"Your cat won't run away?" You ask, causing him to laugh heartily.

"Nah, she loves me." You pull yourself up onto your feet slowly, and by the time you've adjusted your clothing, the boy is, in fact, bent over, tattooed arms pressed against the window, and his face as close to yours as it could get due to the barrier between the two of you.

"Are you from around here?" You shake your head.

"I went to a nearby college, but decided to transfer to an area that seemed more my style. I go to the local university here now." He nods as you speak, still keeping firm eye contact with you as you explain your move to him.

It might have seemed very odd that you were explaining the last few months of your life to some random boy, but that's essentially what it was like on campus, anyway. What's the difference?

"I just graduated from there last year. I'm down here for work now. I've moved constantly, and I'm looking to settle."

"What did you study?" You ask.

"Criminology." You nod slowly. In college, you learned quickly that a person's appearance does not equate to what they choose to study. Some of the most adorable people you knew studied some intense things.

"Congratulations on graduating then, uh..." You trail off.

"Jungkook."

"Right. Congratulations, Jungkook." He lets out a little laugh.

"What are you studyi--"

"Alright, I'm done. My makeup looks pretty good today, right? I tried that new lipstick I bought when we went to the store." Your best friend rummages into your room. You glance over your shoulder at her, and unbeknownst to you, Jungkook has his eyebrow raised.

While you are distracted, he uses this time to glance around your room.

She joins you at your side, and nods her head over to the boy in front of the window. He waves at her, smile as pure as ever.

"Who's the dude?"

"Jungkook, I'm your neighbor down in C3." Your friend nods, giving you a look of suspicion before glancing toward him again.

"It's been a pleasure, Jungkook, but we've got to get going." You speak. Your friend nods, and he stands to his feet slowly, patting his thighs as the cat goes running up to his legs.

"I didn't catch your name." He states firmly.

"It's ________. That's Ivory, my roommate." He smiles softly. Ivory waves her hand at him.

"Pleasure to meet you ladies as well. Come and give me a knock if you ever need some sugar." You chuckle, and he does the same. With one final nod, he dismisses himself.

You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding in, and turn around to face your roommate. She has an expectant look on her face, and one of her eyebrows is still raised.

"What? Meeting the neighbors was on our list of things to do." You state, as you push the latches on the window shut to lock it. Considering you weren't the type of person to be so forward, you surprised yourself at the interaction you just had.

She playfully rolls her eyes, and grabs your wrist. You reach for your purse and wallet on your bed quickly, before she has the chance to drag you out of the room.

----

You two spend the rest of the day out, buying little things to decorate the apartment (including curtains, so the sun wasn't glaring in your face in the mornings), little groceries, and whatever else you could remember. The sun was beginning to set by the time you returned home, and just like yesterday, you were beat, and so was your best friend.

You assumed that you would be all caught up on sleep by the time you woke up the next day, and your assumption proved to be correct.

Buying those curtains was a great decision, because you woke up on your own accord, and you were feeling great. Still, you were going to make yourself a cup of coffee, but you felt well rested enough to continue about your day and set some things up around your new place.

You head into the kitchen to grab a mug and your coffee grounds. While your machine works itself up, you look around the kitchen. Things were bare, so it didn't feel very 'homey' quite yet, but you were sure to fix that within the next few days.

As your roommate was still sleeping, you're careful not to make too much noise as you're preparing your coffee. Your stomach grumbles as it brews, and the smell slowly begins to fill the kitchen. Even though there was no sugar or creamer, it still smelled great. Either that, or you were hungry as hell.

Probably the latter.

After you've prepared your cup, you take a few quick sips, careful not to burn your tongue. You nod at the taste. This was exactly what you needed to get a head start on your day.

You'd just cleaned the kitchen of the little mess you made, when there's three knocks at your front door. They weren't loud, but they were firm. You're quiet for a second before the knocks pick up again, with the same intensity as before.

"Just a second!" You call out, wondering if your voice held as much confusion as your face did.

"Take your time." You knew that voice. It had only been a day, but you could register well enough.

You look through the peephole just to be sure, and sure enough, Jungkook is stood on your doormat with his hands tucked into his pockets, his head down as if he were looking at his shoes.

You unlock the front door, coffee still in hand, and you're met with a warm smile. You return it, though not as bright as his. It was early morning, or at least you thought. How he could have so much energy was beyond you.

"What's up?" You question, an eyebrow raised as you take another sip.

"Got any sugar?" You couldn't help but to laugh. Never in your life would you have imagined someone presenting you with that line.

As you continue to laugh, Jungkook smiles.

"What? I'm serious. I wanted to make myself a cup of coffee, but I'm all out of sugar. I see you've had the same idea." He says, nodding his head in your direction. You hum.

"Didn't you tell me to knock on your door if I ever needed sugar? Already failing to keep promises, are we?" You joke, and he playfully rolls his eyes.

"Besides, I just put it away. You're short by just a minute or two. Sorry about that." You joke, and he raises an eyebrow.

"If you aren't going to offer me the sugar, you could at least invite me in. Your coffee smells fresh." He taunts in return. Now, you raise an eyebrow.

You weren't opposed to the idea, but your roommate was sleeping. You would never knowingly invite someone over without telling her first, out of pure decency. He would have plenty of other chances to get sugar from you some other time.

"Fine, you got me. I'll give you the sugar, but I better see it back before the sun goes down." You turn away from the door as you finish your sentence, and walk back into the kitchen to grab the sugar for Jungkook.

When you return, he has a boyish smile on his face.

"Was hoping you'd welcome me in, but this is what I asked for, isn't it." You lean against the doorframe, and he stares at you for a moment with the sugar held in one of his hands.

There was a strong silence, but there was something eerie about it. A light breeze passes outside, and it tousles Jungkook's hair a bit, so only one of his eyes is visible to you now.

There was something so interesting about his face. He appeared to be pale, though he had a healthy glow about his skin that made him appear as if he were a real life mythical creature. He truly was carefully sculpted.

"Did you hear? The weather is supposed to get very bad tonight." You raise both of your eyebrows in surprise. You surely hadn't heard.

"No, I haven't heard that. I still get weather alerts for the old town I used to live in. Thank you for the heads up, though." He nods.

"If you have any candles, flashlights, or anything of that sort, go ahead and lay them out. Weather isn't bad here often, but when it is, it's terrible." You nod, as does he.

"Thanks for the sugar, _____. I'll be sure to pay you another visit to return it."

"Hope you do. You stay careful tonight too, by the way." He smiles, bows politely, and walks away with the sugar in hand. You close the door once he's out of sight, and think over your interaction.

There was something about that boy.

You down the rest of your coffee before it gets cold, wash out your cup, and start putting kitchen utensils away in the drawers. You and your best friend already agreed that she would tackle the living room, and you would handle the kitchen. By the time you were finishing up, which was about an hour or two after your interaction with Jungkook, she was beginning to stir in her sleep.

Moments later, she meets you in the kitchen with half opened eyes, and her tank top twisted around her breasts. You stifle a laugh, and place your hand over your mouth.

"Your titties are out."

"No they're not."

Instead of responding, you fix her top for her, and the expression on her face after you do so causes you to fall into a fit of laughter.

She rubs her face and sighs loudly.

"I need to head back out and grab a few more things for the living room. You want to come with me?" You shake your head.

"No, I need to finish up in here." You were nearly done, and if you left right now, you knew you weren't going to finish when you came back. She nods in understanding.

"Jungkook came by a while ago." You continue.

"Again? It's ten right now. Who wakes up that early?"

"He does, I guess. He took our sugar so he could make some coffee, but he also said that there was going to be bad weather later. So whatever you need to get done, have it finished before it gets late so you're not stuck in it."

"Sure, mom." You roll your eyes.

"I'm serious."

"I know, I'll be back before then." She says, and you nod.

About an hour later, she's out of the front door, and you're back to finishing the kitchen.

Once your feet are so sore that you're certain they'll burn if you continue to stand, you find that you're finished with the kitchen. Everything is in place, the kitchen decorations are set up nicely, and now, you're starting to feel a little more at home.

It hadn't been long since your friend left, and Jungkook still hadn't brought your sugar back. He was cute and all, but if he was that desperate for your sugar that he couldn’t even bring it back, he would've been on your hit list.

You were going to be by yourself for a few hours, so you’d use the time to do some self care.

You pour yourself a glass of sparkling water, run a bath, light some candles, grab your speaker, and a robe. If the weather was going to get bad anyway, you wanted to go ahead and get yourself clean to avoid showering in a thunderstorm, or possibly something worse.

You strip yourself of your clothing, slip into the bathtub, and close your eyes.

You successfully shaved, listened to a few songs, and performed some other self care acts, but you fell asleep soon after that. It wasn't your first tine falling asleep in the bath, but certainly the cold water around your body was not something pleasant to wake up to.

You drain the bath, and run a quick shower to remove any excess suds from your body. You blow out your candles, slip on your robe, and your slippers. Reaching for your phone that you set on the counter at some point, you check the time.

5:48.

She still wasn't home yet. She did text you a bit ago to check in, though, which you smile at.

You let her know that you're okay, and she needs to come home soon.

In the meantime, you apply a facemask, and sit on the couch to let it dry for thirty minutes.

You hear a loud crash of thunder just a few moments later.

So, the boy was right.

You were thankful that it didn't occur when you were sleeping in the bath, but now your main concern was you roommate. You just put your mask on, also. Worst case scenario, if the power went out, you'd have to wash it off with cold water.

You leaned over the couch to hit the light switch on the wall, and when the lights in the room didn't illuminate, you realized that you were, in fact, without power. You were sure they'd come back on within a few hours. Thankfully, most of the food you went shopping for earlier consisted of things that wouldn't expire without being refrigerated.

You planned ahead unintentionally, which you were thankful for.

Wait a second.

If the power was out...

You quickly stand to your feet and head to the front door.

Sure enough, it was unlocked.

Your front door locked electronically using a code, but specifically for instances such as these, there was still a manual lock.

You lock the door, and jiggle the knob a bit to ensure that you'd locked it.

This meant that when your roommate returned home, you'd need to open the door for her. You didn't think to tell her to grab the key before she left, but you wouldn't fall asleep without making sure she made it back safely first.

Remembering that you'd left your phone on the bathroom counter, you stumble around in the darkness to grab it. The screen doesn't light up, and you continuously click the power button on and off with silent curses under your breath.

You didn't charge your damn phone, the candles you'd lit from your bath were blown out and you don't know what you did with the lighter, you didn't get a flashlight out even though you were warned to, and you still had this damn face mask on.

Goddamnit.

Using careful steps and your sense of touch (by pressing your palms against the wall so you wouldn't trip and fall straight onto your fucking face), you make your way to the sink and wipe your face clean of the mask. You decide to let your skin air dry. It took you two years to make it to the sink alone, you didn't want to fish around for a towel.

Using the same carefulness as before, you step out into the hallway and feel around for the couch, grabbing onto the fabric until you can make out a seat.

You sit down with a loud sigh, and stare blanky into the darkness.

The power was out. Your phone was dead. You were fucked.

The only option you had was to wait for your roommate, so that's what you did. You sat, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of the only light source being the lightning strikes from outside, you register the sound of the front door being unlocked.

You don't remember her taking her key, but maybe she already had it in her purse.

The door opens.

"______?" She questions. You stand up, but you don't move toward her. There would be no use in the both of you stumbling around like idiots if neither of you could see anything.

"I wanted to call you, but I forgot to charge my phone. I'm just glad you're fucking back. I'm right in front of the couch." You say, relief flooding your veins.

There was shuffling, but otherwise, it was completely silent.

You assumed she was trying to make her way over to you. Her remaining quiet while doing so was a little out of character, but then again, you've never been in a power outage with her, and certainly not as her roommate.

"I'm right at the end here, you'll feel me once you make it to the arm." You speak to prevent silence from filling the room.

You feel a gust of wind brush past your face, and a presence in front of you. Even though you couldn’t see, it was simply one of those moments where you could feel someone standing there.

"Good, you found me. Look at you." You joke.

Still, silence.

"Don't just stand in front of me like a weirdo. Say something, come on." You laugh again, though there was a sense of uneasiness in your voice.

You silently reach for her hand, and when she intertwines her fingers with yours, you squeeze her hand. She was cold to the touch, but then again, she came home in the rain.

"Hello?" You call out emptily. The two of you would make a joke about things like that in horror movies, so you at least expected a laugh out of her.

And a laugh you got, but it was not from Ivory.

Seconds later, her hand is replaced with a larger, much firmer one.

"Ivory?" Your voice breaks.

Jungkook laughs before speaking,

"I'm afraid not."

You feel the urge to burst into tears.

"Get the fuck out of here, you fucking freak!" You scream, which earns you a slap to the cheek.

With a forceful push, your back is pressed against the couch cushions, and your bare pussy is exposed to the cold air of the room.

You immediately close your legs and try to keep quiet. Once he was close enough, you'd kick him in the fucking face.

As soon as you begin to prepare to lift your legs and get into the ideal position to whack your intruder in the nose, a hand is placed around your ankles, before cold metal follows afterward.

You scream, though Jungkook doesn't bother to shut you up anymore. He was very well aware that most, if not damn near all of the neighborhood that you two lived in consisted of the elderly, and even if their old ears did manage to pick up the sound of you screaming, none of them would do a single thing about it.

"I know, I know." Jungkook says, as if he were soothing a crying baby to sleep.

"You know," You can feel him shuffling once more, and much to your fright, you can feel his breath against the back of your thighs.

“You should do better research about the environments you choose to reside in. I’m the only other person your age around here aside from your roommate, and you don’t find that odd?” You thrash and jolt around as he angles your hips up a bit, so he could sit his head right underneath them. The more you fought, the more you expelled your energy, which would only end up in Jungkook's favor.

“You’re a stupid girl.”

Your fight or flight instincts had been engaged. You sure as hell couldn't fight, and running with cuffs around your legs would be impossible.

Your hands, however, were free.

You begin to swing your fists wildly into the area, though Jungkook is not close enough for you to actually land a hit. You arch your back up off of the couch, and stretch forward as far as you possibly can. You grab ahold of his hair, and pull as hard as you can.

This causes him to giggle wildly. The amount of energy you wasted trying to fight him back now catches up to you, and you fall back onto the couch with a loud thud. Simultaneously, Jungkook begins to spread your pussy lips with his fingers. Without hesitation, he buries his face in your cunt, as your cries, sobs, and screams reverberate off of the walls in the living room.

You were right about one thing, however. That little metal ball in his mouth was definitely a tongue piercing, and under much different circumstances, it could have been flattering on him.

He was disgusting.

Jungkook's tongue moves from your pussy, to your clit, and a few licks were given to your asshole. He consumes your juices as if he'd never eaten anything prior to this moment. His gruff moans and grumbles are barely heard as he continues to devour you like his last meal.

You cover your face in shame, your chest rising and falling quickly as you continue to scream and cry.

"When I saw you, I figured you would be loud. Look at that, mm," He replaces his fingers with his tongue as he continues to taunt you. At this rate, your cries begin to slow, and to your dismay, pleasure settles in.

"Let's make it quick then, honey." He presses his hand against your lower stomach, and you squeeze your eyes shut. You felt as if you were going to pee on him, and even if you had, maybe he would be prompted to get the fuck away from you and leave you alone.

Instinctively, you close your thighs in, though Jungkook keeps them spread apart. You release, making a mess of yourself, him, and your couch. He basks in this, talking you through your uncontrollable orgasm. His words just go into one ear and out of the other, your vision becoming blurry just a few moments afterward.

He removes his fingers from your cunt, and pops them into his mouth. You feel your ankles being freed of the cuffs, and Jungkook's large hand rubbing over the marks that were left there. You don't even have the energy to jolt away from him anymore.

You lay lifelessly for a few moments, not even reacting when the lights in your apartment come back on.

Jungkook grabs your chin and turns your head, to where you see your roommate's lifeless body, with a belt around her neck, and a piece of cloth in her mouth.

You shriek at the top of your lungs, and he stands.

"I'll bring your sugar back tomorrow."

[noladyme]

You and Me makes Three - Part 1

Lyla moved to San Fransisco for work, and for a fresh start. The standoffish guy across the hall of her sublet peaks her interest in more ways than one; and when he finally opens up, she jumps at the chance to get to know him; and whatever it is his dark secret is.

Eddie Brock x OC Lyla

TW: smut and fluff

1.

I’d found the sublet on craigslist; which I came to regret, when meeting the current tenant. Ziggy – as the guy called himself – turned out to be a long haired ultra-deuche; who’d spent most of our first meeting looking down my top, and talking about his upcoming tour of Illinois, with his band; Dirty Riders. I’d had my share of adventures with guys in bands; but in Ziggy’s case, I could literally smell the perfume from the chick he’d probably banged the night before.

After spending 20 minutes trying to distract me from the task at hand; I finally got him back on track, and we’d come to an agreement on the rent for the 3 months I’d be using his place. It was steep, but after having landed the job at a private school – and having been asked to start the week after – I needed a home; if only temporarily, while I looked for something else.

With most of my stuff in storage; all I had with me the day I was supposed to move in, was a couple of suitcases; and three boxes of essentials – like my books, pens and notes. And of course, my computer – my lifeline.

The neighborhood wasn’t the greatest; so, when I realized the door phone wasn’t working, and the Zigster wasn’t answering his cell, I was lightly panicking. I was standing alone on a street in a new city; with my most valued belongings, and no way to get out of there; as the cab that had brought me, took off as soon as the driver got my last box out of the trunk.

I kept calling Ziggy, and pounding the button for the apartment; but nothing came of it. I sat down on the doorstep, and was just about ready to cry; when a guy in his 30’s, wearing a casual leather jacket, walked up to the door with a key. “Excuse me”, he muttered, pulling out his keys. I looked up at him. It was hard making out his eye-color – blues, greens and browns meshed together to make a color all of its own. I found myself caught up in trying to distinguish the different shades in them; when I realized that he was about to unlock the door, and walk in.

“Hey”, I said. “Do you live here?”. He sent me a friendly but reserved smile; making me also notice his full lips; and the way his front teeth were just a little bit crooked – just enough to make him look interesting. “Yeah”, he said. “I do… Can I help you?”. I let out a relieved smile. “I live here too”, I said. “Or, I’m supposed to… I’m subletting from Ziggy”. He raised his brows. “You’re a friend of Ziggys?”. “Not exactly”, I scoffed. “He’s leaving town for a few months, and is letting me use his place… but the door-phone isn’t working, and he isn’t picking up his cell”.

The man seemed to be having an internal dialogue, before coming to a conclusion. “Yeah. Ok… come on in”. “Thank you!”, I smiled; almost crying in relief. I picked up my suitcases, as he unlocked the door, and carried them inside; after which I got the first two boxes – the man holding the door for me. I thought I heard him mutter “Fine!” under his breath, before he stepped outside, grabbing the last box for me. “Oh crap! Careful, that’s heavy”, I managed to say; before he groaned from the weight of the many books, I’d stored in it. “Shit, no kidding”, he grunted.

He put the box down just inside the door. “Do you need help up the stairs?”, he asked; obviously hoping for me to say no. I smiled and shook my head. “Nah, I’m good. But thanks!”, I said. I stuck out my hand to shake his, and told him my name. “I’m Eddie”, he answered. “I guess we’re neighbors. I live across the hall from Ziggy”. “Thanks for the help, Eddie”, I grinned. “I’m Lyla… by the way”. “Nice to meet you”, he muttered. He walked up the stairs, sending me an inquisitive look over his shoulder.

Five trips up and down the stairs later; I finally had all my things outside Ziggys door. I tried calling him again; and heard a phone ring behind the door. You’ve got to be kidding me! I banged the door. “Ziggy! I’m here”, I yelled. “Open up, you dick”, I added, below my breath. I looked behind me, at what was apparently Eddies door; and saw something move behind the peephole.

I banged the door again. “Ziggy?”. Someone coughed and moved around some stuff behind the door; and Ziggy finally opened; looking at me with a seriously hungover expression. “Fuck. What’s today?”, he rasped. “Wednesday”, I said exasperatedly. His eyes widened. “Shit, beautiful. I’m so sorry!”, he said smilingly. “Come one in!”. “My name is Lyla”, I reminded him, and stepped in behind him. “Lyla-licious”, Ziggy sniggered; making me want to barf violently.

The studio apartment was, if possible, worse than I had imagined. A heavy smell of incense, weed and stale beer hung over the room; and a collection of bongs shaped like female torsos sat on a shelf. Ziggy had decorated the wall over his bed with posters of his own band.

Ziggy scrambled to get his things together. Apparently, he’d not packed up his things for the upcoming tour of steakhouses, coffeeshops and dive-bars throughout Illinois. “Let me just get this…”, he smirked at me; before rubbing himself as close as possible to me to get to a pack of xxl-condoms on a shelf in the kitchen area. “You know, if you need it, you’re welcome to hang around after I get back”. “I’m gonna be pretty focused on getting something permanent set up”, I smiled; swallowing bile. “Absolutely, yeah. That’s so cool”, he said; leaning against the counter I was standing by. “Just let me know, ok?”. He put his hand on my shoulder, and squeezed it. “Sure…”, I said, and stepped back; going to check out the rest of the space.

It was one room – combined livingspace/bedroom/kitchen. A small bathroom with – thank God! – a bathtub; which was going to need some serious cleaning before I’d even put a foot in it. But it was mine… at least for the next three months. It’s not a lot, I thought to myself. But I can work with this.

Ziggy seemed to have his stuff packed up; and was standing in the doorway to the small bathroom; blocking my exit. He had a guitarcase casually hanging from one shoulder. “So… I’m ready to go”, he smirked. I nodded and half smiled. “Keys?”, I said. “Right. Here…”. He handed me a set of keys “If I get any mail…”. “I’ll let you know; once a week, like we agreed”. “Yeah”, he smirked and nodded; looking me over like I was edible. “So, I’ll call you?”. I swallowed bile again. “Yup”, I said, and reached out my hand to shake his. He took it; and held on to it; letting his thumb stroke my fingers. I will tear off your arm if you don’t let go, I thought to myself.

“Take care, Lyla”, he said; and winked at me; before finally moving away from the doorframe; and grabbing his bags to leave. “Shit, I forgot. The guy across the hall… he’s kind a of weird. Be careful, ok?”. “Sure…”, I muttered, and walked after him to the door, closing it behind him. I let out an audible sigh of relief, and put on the door chain.

---

I opened the windows, and got to cleaning. An old ashtray shaped like an avocado, turned out to be an actual shell of an avocado; and for the third time that day, I almost vomited. Riffling through some old dusty cd’s of Ziggys, I found a Fleetwood Mac album. “Yes!”, I cried out. At least you have that going for you, Ziggy, I thought – until I realized he’d never unwrapped the cellophane around the cover. I unwrapped it myself, put on the album; and skipped to my favorite song; singing along to the lyrics. “… well, I’ve been afraid of changing, ‘cuz I built my life around you. But time makes you bolder, even children get older…”.

Someone knocked on the door. For a second, I was afraid Ziggy had changed his mind about touring, and had come back. I opened the door slightly, leaving the chain on. Outside stood Eddie. “Hi”, I said cautiously. He seemed warmer. “Hey. I think you dropped this in the hallway”. He was holding one of my notebooks. I unlatched the chain, and opened the door fully, taking the book from him. “Weird”, I said. “I could swear I’d packed it in the bottom of one of the boxes”. Eddie smiled nervously. “Well… maybe it jumped out”, he said. “Maybe”, I chuckled. “Thanks”.

He lingered. “The music…”, he said. “I’m sorry. Is it too loud?”, I asked. He shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine”, he said. “Just different than what usually comes out of this apartment”. I laughed. “Yeah… The Zigster seems to have a very specific taste”. “Yeah?”, Eddie smiled. “You should see his collection”, I said. He nodded and smiled crookedly. “Maybe… sometime”.

I noticed the door to his apartment was open. It seemed like the mirror opposite of mine. Just less disgusting. I met Eddies eyes. I still couldn’t figure out the color of them – all I could conclude was that they were… kind. I would have lost myself in them, if he hadn’t turned to walk back into his own place. “Uhm, Eddie?”, I said. He looked at me again. “Could you point me in the direction of a good… grocery store?”. Idiot… He scratched his head. “Yeah, I mean… I do most my shopping at Mrs. Chens, down the street”, he said. “Just don’t tell her you know me. She’ll try to sell you meditation tapes and scented candles”. I laughed. “A scented candle wouldn’t hurt this place”, I said. “Ziggy left behind some pretty gnarly smells”. He laughed. “He’s a… special guy”. Our eyes met again for a moment. Eddie seemed to want to say something else, but then his eyes moved, as if he was listening to something. “I gotta go”, he said; and went into his apartment, closing the door. He's strange, I thought. But something inside me wanted to figure him out.

---

The next few days went by without much happening. I finally finished cleaning my new living-space – except for the mattress. I couldn’t get myself to sleep on it, after I’d taken of the old bedding left behind by Ziggy; and finding quite a few stains I didn’t even want to touch with rubber-gloves – so I’d slept on the couch so far.

Once, I’d run in to Eddie by the mail slots; exchanging a friendly helloand a smile. He seemed to be in a hurry to get out of the door, carrying a messenger-bag and a motorcycle helmet. I noticed him opening his own slot. It had E. Brock, written with bold letters on it. Watching him walk away down the hall to the door; I couldn’t help but bite my lip and smile. He moved like he was late for something; but at the same time didn’t want anyone to tell him when he was supposed to get there. Like some kind of internal struggle, I just wanted to unwrap and explore.

Saturday morning, I woke up early for once, craving coffee and carbs. I had neither of those things in the kitchen; so, I got dressed in my favorite jeans and a light, loose t-shirt, to head out and track something down. As I was still new to San Francisco, I wasn’t sure about how the weather would be in October. I brought my short leather jacket. Just in case. I put a notebook and a pen in my shoulder-bag, and was off.

Outside the building I grabbed a free paper to have something to read. I took a streetcar towards the Mission District; enjoying the sunshine and smells from food carts we passed. Hunger was about to take me over; and I opened my paper, to distract myself. The headlines were mostly fluff stories and ads; except for a couple on the murder of a local politician, and animal attacks by the harbor. Some drug dealers had been found with their heads bitten clean off. I winced at the thought; before turning the page, and a new header caught my eye.

Home robberies in Downtown Oakland – Gangs or criminals on city payroll? - Story by Eddie Brock.

I was surprised for a second. He didn’t strike me as a journalist in the traditional sense.

The story was mostly an opinion piece, but was based heavily on facts he’d dug up from interviews with victims, and homeless youth in the area of the robberies. Eddie was questioning the arrests made on young gang members for the crimes; and in stead suggesting that city-leadership was paying crime syndicates to commit the robberies, to be able to gentrify the area. If he was right; this was a big story; so, I was finding it strange to see the story in a free newspaper.

I arrived near Mission Dolores Park; having read about a nice, upmarket coffee shop there; with donuts that the blogger had written were to absolutely die for. They turned out to be less so. After standing in line for 30 minutes; I was handed a stale cup of organically sourced, fairtrade coffee; and a donut that was hard enough to break a window. Stepping outside the shop; I decided to give it a chance; and bit in to it – instantly almost choking on the floury consistency of the pastry.

“They’re not very good, are they…”. I turned to face Eddie; standing with an amused smile on his face. “Nope”, I answered, and spat out the donut-bite into a napkin. “Sorry…”, I said embarrassedly. “No worries”, he chuckled. “If I’d known you were coming here, I’d have told you. They’re vegan…”. I raised my brows at him. “Shit, sorry! Are you vegan?”, he asked. “No”, I shook my head and chuckled. “But I’ve for sure had better vegan food than this”. He sighed and seemed to ponder something. “Come on”, he said, and gestured for me to follow him.

We walked down a narrow street; passing smaller shops and street vendors – some of which seemed to know Eddie, and sent him friendly nods. “You’re popular around here”, I said; walking next to him. He chuckled in response. “I dunno. I prefer buying from smaller shops. Personal touch, you know?”. “I get it”, I said. “Locally sourced, and eco-friendly; right?”. He shrugged. “Something like that”.

He stopped by a small storefront; displaying pride-flags and caricatures of politicians in the window. I knew already that I would like this place. The man behind the counters face lit up. “Yo, Ed! Back so soon, man?”, he grinned. “I know you got that parasite thing, but seriously…”. Eddie looked uncomfortable for a second. “Yeah, Don… this is my new neighbor”. He introduced me, avoiding my eyes. “She went to La Boulange”. Don inhaled sharply through his teeth. “Yikes… New in town?”, he asked. I chuckled and nodded. “Coffee black?”, Eddie asked me. I nodded. “Give us two blacks and a couple of glazed yeast”. “I’ll add some sprinkles for the lady”, Don winked friendlily. Eddie groaned. “Just… don’t make them the green ones”, he said. “I was high for 12 hours straight last time”. I laughed out loud.

We left the store; Eddie politely having paid for our coffees and donuts. Through the window I saw Don point at me, and give Eddie the thumbs up and a wink. “He’s a character”, I smiled. “He sure is”, Eddie answered. His voice was deliciously raspy, and watching him speak I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of trouble his lips could get in to with mine. I had to shake myself out of the thought. “Thanks for this”, I said. “You haven’t tasted it yet”, he said.

I bit in to my pastry. It was carb-heaven in my mouth. “Oh. Oh my God!”, I said, mouth full. “I know, right?”, Eddie smiled. I raised my brows and nodded fiercely. “It’s why I go out of my way to come here every morning”. “Don’t journalists work all over?”, I asked, covering my mouth with my hand, as I was still chewing. He scrunched his brows at me in question. I pulled out the newspaper from my bag. “Oh, yeah”, he said. “I do freelance stuff mostly; but I have a position at a newspaper downtown. Used to write for The Globe”. “New York?”, I asked. “So, why move to San Francisco?”. He shrugged. “I lost the position for… being what I am. An honest reporter”.

I half smiled. “So, a new life”. “Yeah, and a girl”, he admitted. “My fiancée”. My heart dropped; and I did my best not to show it on my face. “Oh! You’re engaged? That’s great!”. “Not really”, chuckled. “I messed that up too… by being what I am”. “An honest reporter…”, I muttered. “And at times a little too cutthroat about it”. He sighed. “It’s good though. She’s good. I’m good. We’re good”.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why am I telling you all this stuff?”, he said and laughed. “Are you sure you’renot a reporter?”. “Nah. I’m just an elementary schoolteacher”, I said. “I do write, though. But not articles”. “What?”, he said earnestly. I shook my head. “Another time. I’m sure you have somewhere to be”. He looked at his watch. “Shit, yeah!”, he said. “Sorry, I gotta run”. “It’s fine. Thanks again”.

He nodded and smiled. “You take care, teach’”, he said. “See you around”. He walked away; scratching his head, and looking back at me a couple of times. I took my time enjoying my donut and coffee; and walked in the opposite direction. Eddie – Be still my beating heart.

---

I spent the rest of the morning trying to map out the best way to and from work. As I was starting the next Monday morning, the nerves were getting to me. They’re just 5-yearolds, I kept telling myself. 5-yearolds attending a private school funded by their very rich parents; and some pretty serious sponsors from Silicon Valley. And me without my degree from MIT…

I stopped at Mrs. Chens for some light groceries. Although I’d loved Don’s donuts – and his coffee had been heavenly – I was to anxious to see myself making my way all the way to the Mission District the next day; and I always needed caffeine and access to some kind of breakfast in the morning. The lady behind the counter – Chen, I assumed – seemed nice, though a bit standoffish; and quickly checked out my coffee, bacon, eggs, cheese; and other essentials. “You’re new here”, she said. “How did you know?”, I asked. “I usually only get regulars”, she answered, and narrowed her eyes at me. “I moved in down the street. My neighbor recommended your shop”, I smiled. “Who?”, she demanded. “Eddie…”, I answered timidly. Her face instantly became warmer. “He’s a good boy”, she said. “Tell him to pic up my cousins latest cd. It’ll do him good. As well as his parasite”. That parasite thing again. Weird. I thanked her, grabbed my stuff; and left the store.

I made my way back to the apartment; cranked up the Fleetwood, and danced it out for a while. I’d always done that; when I needed to get something out of my system. It was better than drinking myself into oblivion – and I was out of whiskey.

I was completely oblivious to anything around me, when I heard someone clear their throat. I turned around, arms in the air; and almost died from embarrassment. The door was open; and in the opening stood Eddie.

“Sorry, it was open”, he said; trying to stifle a smile. “Ziggy had a crazy ex kick it down once. It’s always needed an extra push and pull to close properly, since then”. I nodded, blushing. He held up a carton of eggs. “Chen said you forgot this”, he said. “Thanks…”, I said, taking the pack from him. I grimaced. “So… this is embarrassing”. He laughed. “What? The eggs, or the dancing?”, he chuckled. “Ha, ha. Laugh it out”, I said, stifling a smile. “I was enjoying the view”, he said; and glint to his eyes – before grimacing himself. “Sorry… that was… probably crossing a line”. “It’s fine… you’re fine…”, I said; realizing what I’d just said. “Good, I mean. Shit… I do this to clear my head, sometimes. Dance. It relaxes me”.

He laughed. “I just got back from… a thing”, he said. “I need to clear my head a bit as well. Was gonna take a ride up to Coit Tower”. I smiled; my blushing beginning to fade. “That sounds nice”, I smiled. He exhaled. “Yeah… do you wanna come?”. My jaw dropped. “Uh… yeah. Sure. I’d like that”, I said. What the hell, Eddie? Are you asking me out? “Great”, he smiled. “I was gonna take my bike; are you good with that?”. “I don’t have a bike”, I said. He chuckled. “Not that kind of bike”. Right. The motorcycle helmet. “And now I feel like an idiot”, I muttered. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve met the biggest idiots in media, politics and sports; and you look nothing like them”, he said. “You do look like someone who needs to get out of this place for a while”. I smiled; grabbed my jacket; and followed him out the door – making sure it was properly shut behind me.

Eddie grabbed two helmets from his apartment; giving me another chance peak into his place. It smelled nice. Like tater tots and musky cologne. I didn’t know why, but suddenly it was my favorite smell. “Let’s go”, Eddie said; handing me one of the helmets; and we made our way down the stairs.

Outside the building stood a motorcycle. It was clearly well cared for. Eddie got on it, and put on his helmet; gesturing for me to get on behind him. “You should hold on”, he said. I searched for something to grab; and he took my wrists; pulling my arms around his waist. Wow. Ok. Firm. “You good?”, he asked. “Yeah”, I squeaked. He chuckled behind his helmet. “Sit tight, teach’”. He started the bike, and revved the engine; before taking off. “Oh my God”, I yelped; feeling his body shake in laughter in front of me.

I was convinced he took the steepest roads; scaring the shit out of me for the first few miles – before I finally got comfortable behind him. I relaxed my body; and let myself enjoy the view of the city in the dusk – and how close I was to Eddies warm body. I felt his calm breathing; and matched it – soon feeling completely relaxed. We hit a bump, making the bike jump a bit; and I laughed in glee; hearing him laugh along with me.

The drive was over way to soon for my liking. We’d made our way up Telegraph hill; and I got off the bike, taking of my helmet. “You liked that, huh?”, Eddie grinned at me. “Yeah, it was fun!”, I smiled. He looked at me; almost in wonder. “Was that your first time on a bike?”. “I tried it once, for like five minutes; when I was a kid, but kind of. Yeah”, I admitted. “I couldn’t tell”, he smirked sarcastically. I frowned in mock annoyance. “Shut up”, I said. “You’ve never had a better passenger”. He laughed. “Yeah… come on”.

The sun was going down; and we were too late for tickets to get up the tower; but Eddie seemed unfazed. “There’s a good view over here”, he said; putting his hand on my lower back, to lead me over to a railing. “You gonna push me over this thing?”, I joked. “Nah, would be a poor move for a first date”, he said. I looked at him. “This is a date?”, I smiled. He seemed to have an internal dialogue. “I… don’t know”, he said. “Do you want it to be?” I bit my lip. “Let’s see how good this view is; and I’ll let you know”.

The view was stunning. I could see both the lights of the city as well as the Golden Gate bridge. My jaw dropped at the sight. “Wow…”. Eddie looked at me. “Yeah, it’s pretty special”, he said.

I stepped towards the binoculars; searing my pockets for change. “I don’t have a quarter!”, I heard Eddie whisper. “It’s fine”, I smiled at him. “I can see pretty clear anyway”. He looked me, caught off guard. “Yeah. Sorry…”. I leant against the railing. “I could fall in love with this city”, I proclaimed. Eddie smiled warmly at me, walking up next to me – close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his body.

We looked at the views for a while, talking about this and that. I told Eddie about my hometown, and how I’d loved it as well. “So, why did you decide to come here”. “It’s a long story”, I muttered. “Come on, I’ve already seen you dance!”, he chuckled. “You don’t like my dancing?”, I gasped in jest. He smiled. “You really put the oogie in the boogie”, he said. “You’re the most graceful elephant in a porcelain shop, I’ve ever seen”. “So now I’m an elephant?”, I raised a brow at him. He grimaced. “I walked right in to that”, he muttered. “Sorry…”. I smiled at him in forgiveness. “Seriously though. Why’d you make the move?”

I couldn’t help myself. I had to mess with him. “It’s embarrassing”, I said. He smiled encouragingly. “Ever since I was a kid… I’ve always wanted to act. Be in the big movies”. His lips parted, and he looked really uncomfortable. I continued. “So… I decided to give it a shot. Come here; and be near Hollywood, you know?”. I smiled earnestly. “I think I’ve finally got a shot; now that the studios are just down the street”. Eddie looked genuinely sorry for me. “Lyla… I don’t…”, he began. “Eddie…”, I smiled. “I’m kidding”. He exhaled in relief. “Thank God. I really didn’t want to be the one to tell you… You know?”. “I know”, I smirked. “’Cuz we’re a way off from Hollywood here”. I nodded. “About 400 miles. I realize that”. He began laughing, and shook his head. “Is this payback for the elephant thing?”, he said. I shrugged. “Maybe”, I smiled.

He bumped my shoulder with his own. “You’re bad news, darlin’!”, he laughed. “You’re not, though”, I answered. “Tell me; why did your article on those home robberies end up in a free newspaper, instead of some big ass media outlet?”. He sighed. “Not everyone wants to run the hard stories”, he said. “As long as it gets out there…”. I nodded. “I get it”, I said. “Besides, in a free paper the story will get a broader audience, right?”. He shrugged. “I hope so”, he said. “I think it’s an important story”. “Me too”, I agreed.

I told Eddie about my new job. “Private school?”, he grimaced. I laughed. “Yeah, I know”, I said. “Not very socially conscious of me. But the pay is good. And I needed a change”. “What made you move here? The truth this time”, he smiled. “It’s got to be more than the job. You don’t strike me as someone who does things just for money”. I chewed my lip. “I wasn’t in a very good place in my job, or my life”, I admitted.

He looked at me with warm eyes – the color even more indistinguishable in the dusk. I bit my lip; wanting desperately for something to happen. “How’s your head? A bit clearer?”, he said quietly. “Not really…”, I admitted. He let out a quiet laugh, and wrinkled his forehead. “Yeah, me neither”, he muttered. “Can I kiss you? I just feel like I should, you know...?”. I interrupted him by taking his hand. “Yes…”. He nodded and sighed in relief. “Ok. Then… I’m going to do that. Now”. I chuckled; and laced my fingers with his. He stepped closer; putting a lock of my hair behind my ear; before placing his hand on my cheek; letting his thumb stroke my cheekbone. “I like your eyes…”, he said. “Stop talking, Eddie”, I smiled. “Ok”, he said; and finally let his full lips meet mine.

It was soft. Gentle. I parted my lips; letting the tip of my tongue meet his. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and pulled me close; and I slid my hands around his neck – letting my fingertips play with the hair there. He pulled his head back a bit; letting our foreheads meet. “You’re… something else”, he smiled. “Something good, I hope”, I answered. “Yeah”, he breathed. “Can I… just… one more time?”, he muttered; before pressing his lips to mine again. I chuckled against his kiss; and returned his enthusiasm. This time there was a bit more heat to our connection. He held on to me; making me stand flush against him. I felt a rush of blood to my core; and my breath hitched.

Someone cleared their throat. Our lips parted, and we saw that we we’re being watched by an elderly couple. “You kids should take that somewhere else”, one of the men said. I flushed red, and Eddie took my hand. “Yeah. Let’s… go”, he smiled.

---

Once back at our building, Eddie gave me a hand to get off his bike. We walked up the stairs together, and paused in front of our doors.

“Thanks for this”, I said. “I needed a distraction”. “I’m a distraction now?”, Eddie asked with a smirk. “A good one”, I chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair, and sighed. “Thanks for the… kissing part. I liked that”, he said. “I did too”, I said, before chewing my bottom lip for a moment. “We could do it again… If you want to”. Eddie looked relieved. “I really do”, he smiled, and took a step closer to me. I met him halfway, and leaned in to him, as he cupped my cheek, and our lips met. He took my bottom lip between his own; softly tugging it – and the repeated the process with the top one. My tongue brushed against his lips, and he met it with his own; letting them reacquaint themselves with each other.

Eddie put his arm around me, and I shivered in pleasure, as our hips met; and I felt his body’s very obvious reaction to our kiss. He let out a soft groan; a sound that sent electricity straight to my core. Grabbing on tighter to me, he almost had my knees give in. In spite of his normally withdrawn and almost aloof demeanor – which he’d relaxed somewhat, curing our evening together – he now seemed like he couldn’t get me close enough; almost hungry in his kiss. I was right there with him; ready to throw all inhibitions out the window, and let him take me in that hallway. I literally had to dig my nails in to my palm, to tear myself from the heated moment.

I put my hands on Eddie’s shoulders, and pushed him away as gently as I could. “I’m sorry… Did I hurt you?”, he asked, in a surprisingly concerned voice. “No, Eddie; I’m…”, I tried. “I don’t always know my own strength. I’ll be more careful…”. Eddie seemed unable to stop talking. I put my fingertips to his soft lips – for a short second considering slipping one into his mouth; just to feel him suck on it – and took a step back. “Eddie, you didn’t do anything wrong. Really!”, I smiled. “But, I have this rule… I don’t have sex on the first date”. Eddie’s eyes widened, and he took a step back himself. “No… Of course! I don’t want you to think, I see you as some kind of… I mean, if you were, there would be nothing wrong with that… People can enjoy sex, that’s completely normal… But I would never expect you to just…” I couldn’t help but smile at his flustered babbling, but in the end, I decided to put him out of his misery. I leaned in, and gave him a short kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight”, I said. “Yeah… goodnight, Lyla”, Eddie said. He watched me as I unlocked my door, and I gave him a final smile, before stepping inside, and closing it behind me.

I leaned against the wall, and sighed frustratedly. It felt like everything below my bellybutton was literally screaming at my brain, saying; open the door, and stop thinking so much, you stupid blob of fat and water! I want to play!. I peeked out of the peephole, and saw Eddie beginning to fish out his keys. He looked like he was having a frustrated conversation with himself. He turned and looked at my door, and I quickly pulled back from the peephole. “You’re being an idiot”, I whispered to myself.

Before I knew it had happened, I had opened my door. “Eddie…”. He dropped his keys in chock, and scrambled to pick them up. His jacket and shirt rode up slightly, letting me get a peek at his tattooed torso; only making my resolve stronger. “Yeah! Hey… Hi”, he said, and got up to stand again. “You know, when I said I’d let you know whether it was a date or not…”. “Yeah?”, Eddie muttered. I chewed my lip, and took a deep breath before continuing. “I decided it wasn’t a date… So, technically, I wouldn’t be breaking my rule”. Eddie looked confused for a moment, before his eyes lit up. “Oh… Oh! You mean…”. He seemed unable to finish the sentence; and I felt my cheeks beginning to burn. “I mean, unless you changed your mind”, I muttered. “No!”, Eddie said, taking a step towards me. “I’d like that”.

I let out a pleased sigh, and was even more relieved when Eddie decided to take the lead, and step over to me; instantly capturing my lips in a warm kiss. I put my arms around his neck, and let myself float away in the pleasurable sensations his soft, full lips sent through my body. I’d known this man for less than a week – I could hardly say that I knew him at all – but everything in that moment was perfect; as if we were made to do this. Eddie pressed me against the doorway to my apartment, and let out a guttural groan when I ran my nails through his short hair. He pressed his tongue into my mouth, and once again I relished in his taste.

I looked out the corner of my eye at the main living area of my sublet, and frowned. I pulled back slightly, to be able to speak. Eddie moved his kisses down to my neck, and I gasped audibly. “Eddie… Oh, god. That’s… No, stop!”, I rasped. He pulled back instantly, and met my eyes. “What?”, he asked. “The bed in there is kind of gnarly… Can we do this at your place?”, I said. “Yeah, of course”, he smiled, and tore himself from me, to run over and open his own door. I closed the door to my own place – giving it that extra yank it needed – and stepped up behind Eddie. He looked at me over his shoulder. “Sorry about the mess", he muttered apologetically, and opened his door.

Eddie’s apartment was cluttered, but not dirty. I could have sworn I saw a few unwashed dishes by the sink, but when I blinked, they were gone; as if a shadow had whisked them away. He had post-it notes hanging with ideas for stories, and a couple that read things like If you eat it, replace it and Pigeons are not food. “Do you have a roommate?”, I asked. Eddie chuckled nervously to himself. “Nah, I… forget things”, he said, and tore down a note reading No roadkill in the tub!.

I decided against asking, and simply made my way over to the couch, letting my finger run along the back of it. “Do you want some coffee? Or a beer?”, Eddie asked, and moved towards the fridge. I bit my lip, and shook my head. “Maybe… after?”, I said, trying for seductive; and failing miserably, when I tripped over a stack of papers on the floor. Before I knew what happened, Eddie was next to me; catching me before I hit the floor. “Wow… you’re fast!”, I said. “I… did track in high school”, he said. “You were all the way over…”, I began.

Eddie pressed his lips to mine, to shut me up, and soon I was forgetting all about the ten feet he’d traversed in less than a second. As quickly as I could, I shed my jacket, and Eddie’s lips once again travelled down my neck. I pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and couldn’t help put squeeze his biceps; finding them as firm as I’d imagined. As Eddie latched on to my pulse-point, I let out soft moan; and was rewarded with his hands moving down to my butt. Giving them a tight squeeze, he suddenly lifted me up, and made me put my legs around his waist. “Let’s move over here”, he muttered, and walked us over to the bed in the corner; gently setting me down on it.

We both began tugging at each other’s tops at the same time, but after chuckling at each other; we silently decided to take care of our own clothing. After I’d shed my tank-top, I kicked off my sneakers while Eddie took off his boots. We kept eye-contact as much as possible, and I saw nothing but appreciation in his gaze, as he saw me get more and more undressed. I was enjoying the sight of his bare torso as well; wanting nothing more than to bury my face in the soft hairs of his barreled chest. I pulled off my jeans – leaving me in socks, bra and panties – and moved back on the bed. Eddie raised a brow at me, and shook his head; and once he had gotten rid of his own pants, he grabbed my ankle, and pulled me closer. I yelped in glee as my groin met his, and he pushed me to lie back. I managed to reach down, and hook my finger into the waistband of his boxer briefs; but Eddie grabbed my wrist. “We got all night…”, he said. “But…”, I said. “Relax”.

He smirked mischievously, and kneeled down at the foot of the bed, and ran his palms up my thighs; leaving goosebumps in their wake. As he left a soft kiss on the inside of my left thigh, while his fingertips stroked circles on my right one. My breath hitched, as his warm breath travelled up to my warmth. I was ready to scream by the time his soft lips left an openmouthed kiss on my covered folds. “Please…!”, I whined. Eddie chuckled, and I felt his tongue lick a broad stripe against the lace covering my throbbing, most sensitive parts. Once again, I tried to take charge, by grabbing his head; but he grabbed my wrists, and forced them down my sides. “I really don’t want to have to hold you down”, he chided. “I kind of need my hands for what I’m about to do…”. I let out a frustrated groan, and relaxed my arms as much as I could. “Good girl…”, Eddie hummed, and let go of my hands. I threw my arms back, and grabbed for one of the pillows above my head, and dug my fingers in to it, to keep from getting in the way of Eddie’s work on my privates again.

With agonizingly slow movements, Eddie hooked his fingers into my panties, and pulled them down my feet. He held them up with one finger, and gave me another smirk, before flicking them away. They landed over his open laptop, and we both laughed for a moment; before Eddie once again lowered his face. The last thing I saw before throwing my head back in pleasure, was Eddie’s pleased eyes widening at his upcoming feast. His perfect mouth closed around my folds and clit, and he gave me a deep suckle, before flicking his tongue over my clit. “I know…”, he muttered. “Come again?”, I croaked. “I’m just enjoying my meal”, Eddie replied, blushing adorably. “Ok… Uhm… well, contin… Oh my god!”. Eddie had entered me with two fingers, and began moving them in a come-hither motion, while sucking hard at my nub. Letting out a growl against my wetness, Eddie soon had me seeing stars. As his fingers worked on my most sensitive spot inside, his tongue moved in a zigzag pattern between my folds; going up and down, and never forgetting to give my clit a languid stroke when he reached it. I put the pillow over my face, and cried out in pleasure, as Eddie worked me towards a mind shattering orgasm. Everything went white, and I’m pretty sure I floated above the mattress for a few seconds; as if something was lifting me in the air.

I was panting into the pillow and shaking all over, as I came down. “Don’t do that!”, Eddie grunted. “What?”, I muttered through the pillow. Eddie climbed up my body, and pulled it away from my face, looking flustered. “Just… don’t cover your face. I want to see you”, he said. “Ok…”, I said.

We smiled at each other, and kissed again. I could taste myself on his tongue, and enjoyed it more than was proper. Eddie laid down between my legs, and pressed against me; making me leave a wet spot on his boxers, from my still glistening folds. “Let me just get these off”, he smiled, and pulled down his underwear; and letting his erection spring free. I smiled in appreciation, and took a hold of my new friend; gently beginning to stroke it. “That’s… that’s nice”, Eddie said, straining to keep his composure. “A bit harder, please”. I tightened my hold, and received a deep moan in reply. “Condom?”, I asked. “Shit, yeah”, Eddie said, and reluctantly pulled himself out of my grasp. As he got off the bed, and ran over to search one of the drawers in his dresser, I snapped open my bra, and took it off. When he turned around to face me, with a foil packet in his hand, his jaw dropped at the sight of my mounds. “That is… Those are very nice”, he croaked. I chuckled, and pulled off my socks; wanting to be completely naked. “Oh, right!”, Eddie said, and tugged his own socks off, one at a time; losing his balance, and falling on to the bed next to me.

I nabbed the foil packet from his hand, and opened it carefully, pulling out the condom. Straddling Eddies legs, I closed my fingers around the tip of the rubber, and held it to the head of his penis. I rolled it down a little, before lowering my head, and closing my mouth around it; rolling it the rest of the way with my lips. Eddie let out a gasping groan, and looked down at me with wide eyes. Once the condom was all the way down his hardness, I released him from my mouth, and sat up; smiling sweetly. “Where did you learn that?”, he asked. “While you were doing track in high school, I was under the bleachers; doing other kinds of workout”, I shrugged. “It’s an interesting talent”, he chuckled. “I have many more”, I said, raising a brow at him. “I’m sure you do”, Eddie smiled, and grabbed the back of my head; pulling me in for a hungry kiss.

I was flipped onto my back, and Eddie placed himself at my entrance. “Yeah?”, he said, searching my eyes for the go-ahead. “Please”, I said, unable to hide the pleading tone in my voice. Eddie gave me one more deep kiss, and as he did, he pushed himself inside me; bottoming out in my warmth. We both moaned deeply as we were conjoined, and Eddie began moving slowly in and out of me. “You’re so warm… and tight!”, he gasped into my ear. “You fit perfectly”, I panted, and moved my hips to meet his every thrust. “I do, don’t I…”, Eddie chuckled. “Holy… wow”. I locked my leg around his hips, and Eddie grabbed my other leg; hooking his arm under my knee. With ever thrust, the head of his penis brushed against my g-spot; but even just the friction against my nub, and the feeling of his velvety hardness brushing against my walls, were enough to make me whimper in pleasure.

After a while of moving together slowly, I felt my walls beginning to quake; and Eddie’s face lit up. He began thrusting faster and harder, and soon I was crying out in ecstasy again. Every atom in my being felt like it was exploding, and I came around him. “Yes!”, I cried out, and Eddie laughed, seemingly overjoyed that he could make me feel this way. “Fuck, you look beautiful when you come”, he grinned. My hair was a tussled, and I was pretty sure my makeup was a mess, but I took his words as truth in that moment; convinced from the expression on his face, that there was no way he could be lying. “Thank you… for that”, I gasped. “And for the orgasm. That was pretty awesome too”. We laughed together for a moment, before Eddie leaned down, and kissed me. “Are you good to continue?”, he asked. “Don’t you dare stop!”, I exclaimed. “Ok… Turn around, then”.

He pulled out of me – leaving me feeling empty and wanting more – and grabbed my hip, to make me turn over. I got on all fours, and once again felt Eddie probing my entrance. He pushed into me with a pleased sigh, and began moving again. He shifted between fast and slow; as if every time he picked up speed, he willed himself to slow down again. “It’s ok. I can take it”, I said. “Alright”, Eddie panted, and let out a groan, as he slammed in to me. I feel forwards on the bed, landing on my chest; and felt my backside lift with every one of Eddie’s thrusts in to me. “… just go to sleep!”, I heard Eddie behind me. “I’m not…”, I said. “What?”. “I’m not asleep. How could I be?” “Oh… No, yeah; of course!”.

He snaked a hand underneath me, and expertly began stroking circles against my clit. I was soon, once again, feeling the familiar rush of an impending orgasm. “I’m gonna…”, I rasped. “Again?”, Eddie panted; still thrusting in to me, and having found the perfect rhythm for the both of us. “Uh huh…”, I whimpered, and turned my face into the mattress; crying out in pleasure. My walls contracted around Eddie’s hardness, and moments later, he let out a rasping groan; and came.

I was trying to regain my breath, and still feeling my muscles clenching throughout my body; as Eddie pulled out of me. He placed a soft kiss to the back of my neck, and got off the bed, to rid himself of the condom. I pulled at the sheet, wrapping it around me, as he returned to the bed and slipped his boxers back on. He looked satisfied, but also a bit frustrated, and I quietly excused myself to the bathroom, to clean up.

Through the door, I heard him shuffling around the small apartment, and seemingly talking to himself. “… stay out of it… was a me thing… I don’t need that”. I was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable at the situation; and must have been stood for quite a while in the small bathroom, because suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Are you ok in there?”, Eddie called out. “Yeah!”, I replied, quickly finishing my cleanup, and washing my hands. I stepped out into the living area again, and gave him a half smile. “Uhm… are youok though?”. Eddie leaned in, and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, before stepping over to the fridge. “Of course… I’m awesome”, he said, and got out two beers. “That was great!”. I examined his face, and couldn’t help but frown. “Ok… You just seem a little out of it”, I said, and accepted the drink. “Are you regretting…”. “No!”, Eddie exclaimed, his eyes wide and earnest. “Not at all… I just get in my head sometimes”. “Ok…”, I muttered.

Eddie sighed deeply, and took my hand. “Come on”, he said, and pulled me over to sit on the couch. “That… what we just did; that was really great. You were great”. “So were you”, I smiled, biting my lip. “Yeah?”, Eddie said; a slight pink hue to his cheeks. “Thanks…”. As I took a welcome sip of my beer, he merged his fingers with my free hand. “I’d like to do it again… If you’re good with that”. “I’d like that”, I said. We sat for a moment in silence. “Do you wanna stay the night?”. “I should get going”. We’d spoken at the same time. “Oh… Well, if you wanna go…”, Eddie said. “I just thought – seeing as you said the bed at your place wasn’t that great – maybe you’d want to sleep somewhere else”. “The couch isn’t much better”, I chuckled. “Are you sure though? I don’t want you to think you have to…”. “I’d like you to stay”, Eddie said. I felt my cheeks burn. “Ok… I’ll stay”, I said.

Eddie lit up in a grin, and leaned in to give me a warm kiss. “I’m happy you moved in across the hall”, he said. “Me too”, I smiled. “Me three…! Too!”, Eddie said, his voice having shifted from deep, and back to his raspy tone within seconds. He cleared his throat. “Sorry… My throat is a bit dry”, he said, and took a deep swig of his beer. I frowned in confusion, but decided to let it go. We had just spent a good while exercising, and my own throat was a little dry as well; and I took another sip of my beer.

We sat for a long moment in silence, sipping at our bottles, and smiling warmly at each other; before Eddie frowned deeply. “I have to tell you something”, he said. “And… You might change your mind about staying”. I felt a shudder go through my body, suddenly worried where this was going. “What is it?”, I croaked. Eddie took a deep breath, and blew it out. He took my beer from me, and put it down on the coffee table, next to his own. Taking both my hands, he looked deeply in to my eyes. “Here goes… Uhm… Wow, this is hard”, he said. “Just tell me”, I said, trying for calm and encouraging. “Ok… I snore… And not in the cute way”, Eddie said. “I give the streetcars a run for their money, when it comes to noise”. I instantly began laughing in relief. “That’s it? You should hear me!”. Eddie raised his brows at me. “I’ll bet you 20 bucks and a donut from Don’s, I can outdo you”, he said. “You’re a journalist. Don’t you have a Dictaphone?”, I asked. Eddie sprang over to his messenger bag, and pulled out a small recorder. “Let’s do this!”, he exclaimed.

I got to my feet, and followed him over to the bed. Unwrapping myself from the sheet, Eddie gave me a sly smile, and pulled me in for a deep kiss – running his hands up and down my sides – before he let me crawl onto the bed. Once I laid down, he crawled in next to me, and put the sheet over the both of us. He clicked the record button on the Dictaphone, and put it by the bed: before pulling me in to his arms. I cuddled up against him, and let his warmth lull me; feeling suddenly very tired. “Goodnight, Ed”, I whispered. We gave each other a soft kiss. “Goodnight, Lyla”, he replied.

I was already halfway asleep, when something tucked us in; pulling the covers over us. “Eddie?”, I yawned. “Yeah?”, he asked hesitantly. “Was that you?”. “Yes!”. “Ok. Goodnight”. I was out.

---

[looneysguidetolife]

apartment stuff from howtogrowthefuckup

not all of it, but stuff i find particularly useful/want to remember. RIP this blog. the gimmick wears off after a while but it was genuinely useful information.

BUDGETING

suggested monthly budget for groceries for a two-person household is $553. estimated weekly budget is around $100. 

find a pad of paper and a pen and keep it with you for the next 24 hours. Write down every single fucking thing you use or even touch in your house. Tomorrow I want you to look at that list and figure out the cost of everything.

keep track of how much you spend on gas monthly.

add in your estimated utilities. You can fucking google that on your own, because it’s going to be different for wherever you want to live. Absolutely do this if you plan on moving to a different town or state.

divide your total monthly income by three. Hey, look at that, it’s my good friend Math again. Funny how he keeps showing up. Make sure the number of your expenses is less than the other 2/3rds, if it is, you can continue.

FINDING APARTMENTS

apartments.com

Focus on your top 10. Then your top 5. Then your top 3. Don’t go any farther than that (and don’t get rid of the research for the other 7 just yet). Create crazy complicated rating systems. Make an excel sheet or start putting stuff on your wall and connecting them with strings. Go full-on serial killer. Dedicate yourself.

You should also make note of how big the room is so you know if you can even fit what little you own. The same goes for the hallways or stairs or whatever exists outside the apartment on the way from your car. Could you get your mattress through all that shit?

PACKING

Figure out what you want to donate and what you want to put in the trash before you start packing.

Do not go grocery shopping right before moving... Just wait til you’re in the new place to make that trip.

Change your address. Like a week before you move. While you’re doing this, make a list of everywhere you’ve entered your address and need to change. Keep that list. Your future self will thank you someday.

Start in one room and pack all that before moving to a different part of the house. This is a good way to keep all your stuff together and it’s also a good way to find out that you own five decks of cards or one too many furbys.

Put everything into piles: keep, donate, and ditch.

Label the boxes with what room they belong to so you know exactly where it needs to go. Some people like to also mark this with a color coded sticker. 

Also label what’s in the boxes. For example: Kitchen - silverware; cooking utensils; hot pads; magnet collection. You don’t need to label every item individually, but have some idea of what’s in there. Label it on more than one side. Don’t label it on the top, because you’ll just end up stacking boxes on top of each other.

Distribute the weight of your stuff. Mix heavy books with stuffed animals.

Alternately, pack by weight. Heavy stuff goes in small boxes, light stuff goes in big boxes. Basically what I’m saying is don’t pack a massive box with too much weight that it’s too heavy to carry or will break the box.

Use all of your suitcases and bags for packing!

For toiletries - take off the top, place plastic wrap over the opening, replace the top. This way you don’t end up with lotion all over your towels or something.

Know what you’ll need immediately and make sure those boxes are the last thing on the truck, first thing unloaded at the new place. Maybe keep those things in a clear container so you can see exactly what’s in there. Hint: three of the things you’ll need immediately are your toolbox, cleaning supplies, and toilet paper.

note to self: get toolbox and first aid kit.

Take pictures of the new apartment. Before anything goes in it. This way if there are any scratches on the wall or stains on the carpet, the new landlord can’t say it happened during the move.

ASKING QUESTIONS

Apartments.com and My First Apartment both have lists of questions to ask.

questions directly from the blog:

Is the apartment available and is it still listed at the same price or are they trying to swindle you/are they completely incompetent at updating their listings?

Will it be ready when you need it? It’s gonna totally suck if you find the right place and find out it’s not available when you’re ready to move

Are there appliances? Are they included? Do they even work? 

How old is the apartment? This is important to ask because it will tell you how much trouble you’re going to have. Like, if it’s Civil War era, you might have issues with foundation cracks or old wiring or ghosts of soldiers waking you up in the middle of the night.

Have there been any issues with insects, rodents, mold, or mildew? You have to ask this. No good self-respecting property manager would tell you this of their own free will.

What kind of security is there? Did you have to go through a gate when you came in? Do you need a key to get into your building before you get into your door? Or does your door face out cheap motel style? Are there electronic pass codes? Is there any kind of security force on site?

If you ever find someone willing to hang out with you, is there a special place they need to park? Do you need to let the office know if they plan on staying the night?

Where do you park? Is parking included? Is in indoor or outdoor?

Do you need a city sticker to park on the street? [Note: I asked this when I moved to Missouri and everyone thought I was batshit crazy. This is normal in places like Chicago, not so normal elsewhere. See if you can determine that before you ask a crazy question.]

Can you paint the walls? Can you put holes in the walls? Can you do whatever it is you do to walls, so long as they look the same when you move out?

What exactly is the maintenance policy, beyond walls? What is covered, what’s not? And who do you contact when there’s an issue? Is there a maintenance person on staff, or do they call out to someone in the area? Do they have a 24-hour emergency maintenance line

Is there heat and air conditioning? What kind? If it’s a window unit, will it be included in the apartment? Are the costs of heating and cooling included

Do you have control over the temperature or is it a building thing?Are any utilities included?

Who are the cable and internet providers in the area? What are their rates? Does the apartment complex have an exclusive contract with one of the companies?

What kind of people live here? Do they have children? Are they all ancient? Do they have, as I suspect my last neighbors did, a bowling alley in their apartment?

Just how much are you going to hear from your neighbors? On a scale of Ernest Hemingway to Les Mis, how thick are the walls?

When is rent due and how do they want it? Are checks required? Can you pay with a credit card? Do they want it all in cash? Also, how is rent submitted? Can you pay electronically or do you drop it in a mailbox?

Do you need renter’s insurance? About how much does it cost? Are there any weird things that need to be included that might not be everywhere? Like, are earthquakes an issue?

What is the process for applying to the apartment, should you choose to rent it? Are there credit checks?

What’s the pet policy? Is there pet rent?

Are there quiet hours or other weird rules about volume or people or places or things?

Are there public areas like pools or parks or gyms? What are the rules regarding those?

If you have a roommate, will both of your names be on the lease, or will one person be designated as the responsible party (you better pray it isn’t you)?

What about trash? Is there pick up or dumpsters? Recycling?

Is there a storage unit included? Where is it? What kind of security does it have?

What happens with deliveries? Do they all go through the front office or are they left on your doorstep? Are you able to pick stuff up at any time? Do you need certain ID for it?

Is there a dishwasher? Is it louder than the bowling alley next door?

If you’re in an area that gets snow, do they plow or shovel? Will they totally bury your car if you don’t move it when the plow comes by?Is there public transportation anywhere?

not questions, but things to pay attention to:

Where are the outlets? Take note of prongs.

Are there permanent light sources or do you need to go to Ikea?

How big are the rooms? What shape are they? Are you going to be able to fit all your shit in here? [Note: you should already have a floor plan online, but ask for a paper copy if they have one.]

Do the people in the office seem at all competent? Are they going to make your life a living hell?

Can you get your stuff up/down the stairs or through the doors when you move in?

Are the appliances/apartment gas or electric?

Bathtub or shower?

Can you open the oven and fridge and still walk through the room? Will opening any doors block off other areas or hit something else?

Can you get a cell signal in the apartment? Seriously.

EDIT: waybackmachine links:

1 • 2 • 3 • 4

[hanoella]

Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 1)

Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader

Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam's who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he's not the only one looking for a fresh start.

Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence

Read Part 2

---

After everything that happened with the Flag Smashers and the GRC, Bucky thought that laying low with Sam in Louisiana was a good idea. He had been looking for a fresh start anyway. Between losing Steve and making his last amends, New York as of late had only been full of sad memories and regrets. Louisiana was so different- slower paced and fresh, no negative feelings. No feelings at all, actually. Sam was more than understanding, letting him stay with them until he found a semi-permanent place here.

Currently, Bucky was staring out the window, watching the breeze make little waves in the grass as he ate his sandwich. Sarah and the kids had gone out to the boat, making the house feel virtually abandoned. There was too much space and not enough people. For just himself, it was only a reminder that he would continue to stay as he always had- alone.

Sam walked into the kitchen where Bucky was, effectively breaking his train of thought. He raised an eyebrow at Sam’s mischievous smile- or maybe it was a regular one. He always looked like he was up to something, at least to Bucky.

“Great news,” Sam started. “I just got off the phone with a friend of mine. She’s moving down here for some work and is looking for someone to live on the property with her.”

“She?” Bucky questioned.

“Listen, I know what you’re thinking but before you say anything else, let me explain. So she already bought the house, it’s less than 10 minutes from here so you can still see us whenever you want. The property’s a couple acres so it’s got tons of space. It comes with an apartment over the shed, so you don’t have to share walls. She keeps to herself so she won’t bother you,” Sam said, counting the pros on his fingers as he talked.

“And the best part is: you don’t need to pay rent. I explained the situation, with you being a hero to the world and all, and she said as long as you can help her out with the heavy-duty stuff like taking care of the property and the occasional repair, you don’t have to worry about it.”

Bucky eyed the couch that had been his home for the past several weeks. Don’t get him wrong- being here with the boys was fun. Unfortunately though, he was still in a place in his life where he needed time to think, heal and meditate. The nightmares, although less frequent, were still occurring. Sam was always supportive, but Bucky didn’t want to keep putting him out. Sam noticed the hesitation and spoke.

“You don’t have to decide right now, but she’s moving here in a few days and could at least use some help. She said we could go look at the property now- no pressure though. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want.”

Bucky paused a moment before nodding.

“Okay, let’s go.”

---

Sam turned into a dirt driveway lined with low hanging trees on one side and a field on the other. Bucky wouldn’t have even noticed it if not for the mailbox on the street.

“See, well this is perfect for you, it’s back in the cut.” Sam said.

Bucky could understand from context clues that that meant secluded. Probably.

It took a few seconds down the driveway before the trees on the left cleared and the water was visible. On the other side, there was a light green house with white trim. With the typical Southern architecture and porch, it was the picture perfect place to live. No neighbors- just trees and water.

Sam whistled as they pulled up at the end of the driveway by the house. Now that they were closer, Bucky could see the large garage on the opposite side of the driveway. It almost looked like another house but much smaller, and with a small dock in the water. The bottom floor of the garage had two large doors that opened upwards, and one regular doorway. The top floor had several windows with curtains in them, shrouding the inside. Getting out of the car, Bucky walked around the car to where Sam was opening the door to the garage.

Going in to inspect the garage, Bucky blinked to adjust to the dim light. He looked around to find several yard tools, some cans of paint on shelves, and a riding mower. On the back wall was a door. Hearing a rustle, he turned to find Sam feeling up on the highest shelf.

“Found it!” He said triumphantly, holding the key to the apartment up.

Walking over to the door on the back wall, Sam unlocked it and pulled it open. Bucky poked his head through the doorway and looked up to the staircase at his left. He turned to meet Sam’s eye, who shrugged before gesturing to Bucky to take the lead. It led up to the top floor of the garage, which was fitted with an apartment that turned out to be nicer than he thought.

It was simple but in good condition. Dark hardwood floor, white trim, pale steel blue walls. Where they had walked up was the living room. Directly across from it was a kitchen area with a veranda to walk out on. The open space then shrunk to a hallway to the left. The bathroom being the first door and a bedroom at the end of the hall. Overall, plenty of space for one person.

“I don’t know about you Buck, but this place seems perfect.” Sam said as he opened the glass sliding door to the veranda. It overlooked the undisturbed landscape, hidden from the nearby town.

“It does.” Bucky responded simply.

He took a moment to walk out onto the veranda with Sam and view the birds wading through the water.

“Well good,” Sam said with a chuckle. “This way, you can stop hitting on my sister.”

Bucky laughed and punched him in the arm. Sam feigned physical and emotional injury.

“Haha, Very funny.”

Sarah was a nice gal, but focused on her life at the moment. Sure, there had been a few sparks, but ultimately she had made it clear that her priority at the moment was her boys and her business. Bucky had been a good sport about it. It just felt good to be back in the game without it feeling forced.

Sam watched as Bucky stared out at the water before switching to a serious note.

“So… You feel like you’re ready?”

Bucky slowly nodded.

“Yeah. This is it.”

Sam smiled wide as he handed the key over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Welcome home.”

---

Bucky had very few belongings from New York that came with him. A small wooden table with chairs. A few books. A bed, a couch, a TV. There wasn’t really a whole lot that couldn’t be replaced if needed. He had been able to take the trip to and from in a few days, already moving his belongings into the apartment. The only big thing he had done was bring Steve’s old Harley out of storage. He probably should get a car at some point since it wasn’t the city anymore but he’d figure it out.

After saying goodbye to Sarah and the kids, Bucky opened the door to Sam's truck.

“Promise you’ll visit?” shouted one of the boys before clinging to him.

Bucky smiled and patted the kid on the back.

“Of course, I will.” He said, looking at the other boy before gesturing for him to join the hug.

“Uncle Buck’s not going anywhere boys,” Sam promised across the center console from the driver’s side.

Both boys eventually peeled off of Bucky’s side. He got in the truck and rolled down the window.

“Be good for your mom okay?” He said to the boys as he waved and nodded at Sarah, who smiled back as the truck started.

“Okay, bye!” They shouted until Bucky could no longer see them in side view mirror.

He really would miss those kids.

They drove in comfortable silence until they pulled up to the house where a light blue sedan was parked next to a storage pod that had been delivered. After parking by it, they exited the truck as you were stepping out of your car.

“Sam!” You exclaimed cheerfully, as you went in for a hug. He lifted you slightly off the ground and you laughed, smiling wide. Bucky stood to the side and observed the interaction, giving you a once-over. You were dressed appropriately for the work you were about to do- light-wash high-water jeans, a white t-shirt with a chest pocket, canvas shoes, and hair up in a slightly messy bun with a few gold bobby pins thrown in to hold back any loose wisps of hair.

After Sam set you down, he turned to Bucky and introduced you.

“… and we met during a charity event that Tony hosted. She offered her services free of charge to help us raise money for the VA.”

You held a hand out to Bucky.

“It’s very nice to meet you! Thanks so much for helping me move in, I really appreciate it.”

Bucky smiled lightly and nodded as he shook your hand.

“Nice to meet you too.”

You smiled and took back your hand before looking at the house.

“Shall we?” You inquired, gesturing towards the storage pod.

“Of course,” Sam replied, opening the door to the pod. As Bucky looked inside, he noted that it was mostly just boxes. The noticeable items were the same as his: the bare minimum- besides a fancy electric piano.

“How’re you gonna fill up this house with a few pieces of furniture?” Sam joked.

“Hey, it’s better than having too much stuff! Besides, don’t guys always say that women have too much stuff?” You quip back as you reach for one of the larger boxes in the pod.

“Ah-ah-ah, no you don’t,” Sam said as he intercepted you and picked up the box.

“Oh, c’mon Sam. I’ll feel bad if I make you guys do all the heavy stuff.”

“You’re not making us do anything. Besides, I’ll be fine, and the old man could use some exercise,” he said, nodding towards Bucky.

You smiled timidly at Bucky.

“I have a bad shoulder.” You explained while gripping the top of your right arm.

“I get what that feels like,” he sympathized, nodding to his metal arm.

“Ah, yes, I’m sorry, it’s not nearly as bad-”

Bucky cut you off.

“Don’t be sorry. If it’s hurting you, don’t worry about it. We can handle it.” He said gently, pausing for a moment before continuing.

“Or at least I can.”

Sam tilted his head back and feigned hurt feelings while you picked up a lamp base and shook it lightly at him.

“Does this meet your approval, Mr. Wilson?” You asked teasingly.

“Why yes, yes it does. Now come on.”

He walked into the house, you right on his heels. Bucky eyed the two of you together for a moment before picking up a few boxes himself.

---

A few hours later, he was sitting on the worn leather couch next to Sam while you went to get them some drinks in the kitchen. You appeared under the white trimmed archway into the living area holding three glasses.

“One sweet tea for the guest, one lemonade for my new neighbor, and a half and half for the gracious host.” You said, holding up your glass after handing the others out.

You three clinked glasses and you sunk into a sage green armchair with dark wood.

“So… how does this work?” Bucky asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Mmm, yes.” You said, swallowing the sip you had taken.

“Uhm, basically whenever you’re not off saving the world with Captain America,” You started, smiling with pride at Sam. “If you could just make sure the grass doesn’t get too long and help me with some of the more physically demanding repairs and jobs around the house, that’d be great. Of course, that only applies if you’re here, and even then, as long as it’s not urgent, you can take your time getting around to it. Other than that, you’re free to do as you please.”

“That’s very generous of you.” He remarked.

“Well, don’t say that yet,” you said while laughing. “The property is huge so it might be more of a challenge than you think. But like I said, there’s no need to rush to anything. Besides, I should be thanking you. You’ve done a lot for the world.”

Sam interjected before Bucky could respond, which was okay because he still wasn’t used to accepting thanks instead of apologizing.

“Where’s my thank you for saving the world?”

You rolled your eyes and sarcastically rattled off a thank you. Bucky cleared his throat after a moment.

“Anything you want me to start working on?”

“Oh, please get settled in first. I have some furniture getting delivered that I might need help assembling in a few days but otherwise, there’s nothing else. If you have any expenses like paint or tools, you can just use this card and let me know.” You said, handing over a credit card.

“We should also exchange phone numbers too. What’s yours?”

Bucky stalled a moment before rattling off the numbers. It was a foreign feeling- giving out his phone number. He was most definitely having PTSD from his therapist chucking his phone at him. He watched as you typed away on your phone. Feeling his phone ping, Bucky looked at it and saw a message from an unregistered number.

“Hi, It’s me :)”

“That’s my number. Obviously.”

Bucky nodded his head in thanks while registering your number. It had been a while since he had added anyone’s number. You and Sam started talking about something else while Bucky exited back to the main list of contacts. There, your name was italicized and highlighted at the top. What a strange feeling.

…

Later that night, Bucky was relaxing, enjoying the peace. It was warm for autumn, and the water was reflecting the moonlight. He couldn’t sleep. Not that that was surprising. He walked out of the apartment down to the small dock to sip on a beer and celebrate his newfound independence. Sitting on the edge where his feet barely touched the water, he leaned back onto his hands and took a deep breath in.

That’s when he heard it.

Just barely, with his enhanced hearing, he could hear your crying. It was like you were wailing in pain. Not a sharp new pain, but an intense never ending one. The kind that you hear from an animal that’s been maimed- the kind you put out of their misery. Whatever you were holding in, it had been building up for an impossibly long time and finally, exhausted, you found a chance to let it out. Being able to hear it felt like a dirty invasion of privacy.

Bucky swallowed and took another deep breath before trying to focus on the sound of the wildlife around him. But it was no use. Here you were. Here he was.

No longer the only runaway seeking refuge.

[clouditae]

First Love | 07

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | swearing

Word: 2.1k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

The car ride is awkward for you. Hoseok and Ari are chatting away while you and Yoongi sit in the back in complete silence. This is not what you expected, but it seems that Ari has something else in mind and drags Hoseok along, waiting for who knows how long until the two of you left the shelter. You open your bag, pulling out your camera. Turning it on, and going to your pictures, you begin to browse through all the photos you took today.

“Did they come out good?” Yoongi asks, voice just loud enough for you to hear. 

You look to him, surprised that he’s interested, but his eyes are on your camera. Trying to see how the pictures came out. “Yeah. I got some good ones,” you tell him, showing the screen as you browse through the pictures together. The two of you browse through the photos you took. The photos you took capture the moments of joy for the animals. When they played with Rory, when the dogs ran around the fenced area, not wanting to go inside. Even when Charlie came up to you, sniffing the camera; you got a perfect picture of his big brown eyes and the round of his snout. You then reach the photos of Jasper, you’re clearly aware of Yoongi leaning in close to you. When you reach the photos, you try your best to not linger on the photos of Yoongi and Jasper. 

“Wait,” Yoongi murmurs, and you stop, glancing at him. “Go back.” You click back to the previous photo of Yoongi petting Jasper. “Can you send me that one?” he asks, finally meeting your gaze.

You’re fully aware as to how close the two of you have gotten. Swallowing hard, you reply with a small voice, “Yeah.” 

“We’re here,” Hoseok bellows, making you jump away from Yoongi. 

Turning off your camera, you look out the window to see a building with blue shingles, a big sign running along the wall, and a jukebox like entrance, with different colors. “Mary Ann’s?” Ari asks as Hoseok pulls into a parking space. 

“Yeah,” Hoseok beams, putting the car in park and turning the engine off. “I heard this place is great. Great burgers; amazing shakes. Plus, everything inside is a 50s theme.” He exits the car, giving the three of you no time to say anything. As you close the door, Hoseok is already reaching for Ari’s hand. “I’ve always wanted to go on a double date—or I guess date and two friends tagging along,” he corrects, smiling sheepishly at you. 

“Well I for sure am hungry. Let’s go,” Ari exclaims, walking with Hoseok towards the building, but not before grabbing your hand and dragging you along. You stumble a bit until you finally match her pace, looking both ways to make sure no car is going to hit you since Ari didn’t even bother looking. 

Entering through the blue pastel double doors, you’re immediately hit with the smell of burgers and a song you don’t know but can tell the singer is Elvis Presley. The inside of the diner is your typical diner; booths to the left and right, a counter running along the middle with stools, and a waitress or two wearing blue dresses with their hair up in a bun. The floor is checkered, walls pink with photos of people you recognize and don’t while the seating is blue. You’re pretty sure if you look up a 50s diner, this is it. Hoseok, who is still holding Ari’s hand, who is still holding yours, drags the two of you past several booths occupied by people before finding a booth at the end.

Ari lets your hand go, gesturing with her head to enter the booth. As you get in, expecting Ari to sit next to you, you’re shocked to see her sitting across from you. You shoot daggers at her as she smirks in response as Hoseok occupies the seat next to her and Yoongi slides into the booth next to you. You look to the side, staring at the photos on the wall, only recognizing the photo of the cast from I Love Lucy. Your dad would always drag you into the living room to watch it with him. 

“It’s a family thing,” he would tell you every time you would question him. 

“Welcome to Mary Ann’s,” a voice interrupts, placing four menus on the table as you look up at her. “My name is Irene. Can I get you started on something to drink?” Irene is wearing the blue dress like everyone else, a white apron tied around her waist, and a small white hat on top of her head. She’s pretty, and you can’t help but imagine her living in the 50s. As you all give her your order for drinks, she smiles, writing it down and leaving the four of you. 

“So what’s your project about, Y/N?” Hoseok asks, folding his arms on the table. 

You’re caught by surprise by his sudden question, but quickly recover and answer. “The project is to convince the audience to buy or participate in your project by capturing moments of what your project is about.” 

Irene appears with a tray full of drinks. She hands them out to you, tucking the tray under her arm as she pulls out her notepad and pen once again. “Would you like to order now or do you still need a few minutes?” she asks, eyes meeting yours briefly. You quickly glance at the menu, finding what looks the most appetizing as Hoseok and Ari agree to tell Irene their order. 

After everyone has said their order, Hoseok turns to you. “So your project is to convince people to adopt animals through pictures?”

You nod, taking a sip of your drink. “There are a lot of animals in the shelter that need homes. Especially the older ones.” 

Ari sighs. “I don’t like going to the shelter because all I want to do is take every animal home. My dad wants another dog, so maybe I can convince him to adopt one of the dogs here,” she says, tapping her chin in thought. 

“Is there a way to convince your dad to adopt an older dog?” you ask in a hopeful tone, sitting up straight. 

“An older dog?”

You nod quickly. “There’s an older dog named Jasper. He is such a sweet dog. He loves resting his head on your lap and sleeping.”

Ari laughs, “He’s just like my dad.” Pulling out her phone from her bag, she is typing away at her phone for a few seconds before she locks her phone and puts it back in her bag. “Knowing my dad, he’ll be out here on his day off to look at the animals. Which should be tomorrow or the day after.” She smiles. 

You can’t help but lean back in your seat in relief. Ari’s dad may take Jasper home and he can live the rest of his days in a happy home being loved and taken care of. He won’t be sad and alone when his time comes. You’ll have to send Ari’s dad a big basket of his favorite things if he takes Jasper home. 

“So,” Hoseok chimes in. “Ari and I were thinking about the four of us going camping during break.” The way he looks at both you and Yoongi tells you that he’s not going to take no for an answer. Hoseok seems dead set on getting the four of you to go together. One couple and one person who has major feelings for the other. This is bad.

“No,” Yoongi says blatantly. You turn to Yoongi completely shocked by how quickly he denies the request. 

“What’s your excuse?” Hoseok challenges, a daring look on his face. 

“I’ll be working most likely,” he states, grabbing his glass to take a drink. 

Hoseok sighs, “You can’t be stuck in the studio the entire week.” 

“It won't be the entire week. I’ll be in the shop from time to time, too.”

“How about this”—Hoseok adjusts himself in his seat, pointing a hand in Yoongi’s direction—“I help you with whatever you need if you’ll just come with us.” 

“I’ll probably—” 

Hoseok interrupts Yoongi, “Listen Mr. Producer, I’m gonna convince you no matter what. Every year you spend break either in the studio or shop. I get being in the shop, but I bet your boss will let you go on vacation.” 

Irene appears at the table with a tray of your food. She places your plate in front of you before plastering a smile and saying, “Enjoy.” 

You grab a fry, ready to dig in when Ari speaks up, “Are you going to come with us, Y/N?”

You look up to see both Ari and Hoseok staring at you. Lowering the fry from your mouth, you answer, “Yeah, I’ll go.” You can see the joy in Ari’s eyes and Hoseok’s smile grow. Your original plan is to stay in your dorm since your parents are going on their anniversary trip that week. You could have gone home and stayed there, but it seems like a waste of time when you have everything here. 

“We’ll have lots of fun,” Ari tells you, smiling as she takes a bite out of her burger. 

“What exactly is the plan?” you ask, finally taking a bit out of your food. God is it delicious. Everything about this burger is amazing. From the patty to everything they put on it. It feels like taking a bite out of heaven. 

“We rent out a cabin. Since there may be snow it’s best to just get a cabin so that we don’t die out there,” Ari explains. 

“How much will it be?” you can’t help but ask. You don’t have a nine to five job, and that only means saving up like there’s no tomorrow. 

“Oh don’t worry about that. A friend of mine owes me,” Hoseok tells you. 

Now you’re really curious. “How much are they usually?”

Hoseok stares at you for a moment before glancing away and clearing his throat. “A couple hundred per night,” he mutters, but you hear him loud and clear. 

“A couple—” Ari starts but can’t finish. You look at her. Clearly she didn’t know about this either based off of her shocked expression. “And he’s okay with this?”

Hoseok meets her eyes. “Yeah. He owes me big time.” 

“Did you save his life or something?” she asks, clearly not letting it go. 

Hoseok chuckles. “Not that drastic. I just saved him from failing class.” 

“That’s it?” you and Ari ask in unison, but she was louder than you. 

Hoseok smiles triumphantly. “That was the last class he needed to graduate.” 

It takes a while before Ari finally lets it go. For the rest of the dinner you eat in silence, listening to Ari and Hoseok talking to one another, then you, and Hoseok mainly talking to Yoongi and receiving a few words from him. You want to ask Yoongi questions about his major, but you don’t want to be ignored by him in front of Ari and Hoseok. From how protective Ari is about you, and how friendly Hoseok is, one of them will say something and the drive back will be awkward. 

Maybe you’re just blowing things out of proportion. Maybe you’re not. 

“Is there anything else I can get you guys? Desert?” Irene asks as she begins to grab the empty plates. 

“I want ice cream,” Yoongi requests, not even looking at any of you. 

“Guess we’ll have some shakes,” Hoseok says, suppressing a laugh most likely from Yoongi’s small request. 

After finishing your shake, letting Ari try yours and you trying hers, and paying for your dinner, the four of you leave the diner, making your way towards Hoseok’s car. You can’t deny that you enjoyed today. You finally start on your project, you surprisingly spent time with Yoongi without him questioning you or analyzing you openly, and you had a great dinner with your friends and Yoongi. 

By the time Hoseok drives into the parking lot of the dorms and finds a spot, it’s already past nine. Thankfully you have class at nine tomorrow so you can stay up late to get everything ready for your paper and presentation on your project. You follow Hoseok and Ari through the route towards your dorm from the outdoor stairway. 

Before you turn the corner to pass the staircase leading down to the rest of the dorm building and enter your hall, you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn around to meet eyes with Yoongi. Letting go of your arm, he says, “Meet me at the back parking lot Friday.” 

“O-okay,” you stutter. 

He nods in acknowledgement before walking past your and towards his room. You follow, feeling both happy and dreading meeting with him on Friday.

[glittergutts]

Some random stuff on my mind

Yesterday was fun, Chris and I rented a canoe and it was fucking terrifying. I was so scared but it turned out being fun. I saw a cool marsh area I want to take the kids to for science reasons.

Then science reasons got my teacher brain going and I pulled out a ton of books about survival skills ( for the camping trip), field guides of all sorts, and so many books about all about water.

The survival skill stuff will be fun to practice outside. We have a knot tying guide and a shelter building book that we've never really got to use. I want to feel like my kids are self sufficient enough to stay alive in a dangerous situation. It also reminds me of girl scouts when I was a kid so it makes me feel like an official mom to teach my kids more than just "education" I want to teach them life skills like cooking, simple useful crafts and herbal medicines, gardening, sewing, and when their old enough money management and filling out taxes because I want them to feel more prepared for life than I was. All in its own time though, most of this happens through daily life and working together.

I order the last few things we need for our camping trip on Friday including a nature work book for both the kids and some fun outdoorsy crafts for us to do.

Last camping trip kinda sucked, everyone was sick, my daughter broke her hand and was in one hell of a mood even before, and everyone looked at their phone too much. I did too, so I wanted to plan better for our down time. Lots of reading and a few projects and during the day we'll be at fossil Beach looking for shark teeth.

I've pumped up about fossil hunting. I got a fancy big sifter just for the occasion. I need to look around the house, we have little mesh bags for seashells I want to bring. I need to find my water shoes too.

I had a THC peach ring yesterday and it was so yummy. I found out I can get a bag for 15$ from a STORE down the road vs the 40$ bags we bought from a dude like an hour away. So this is exciting news and I plan on checking it out before our trip because the tents are so close I can't actually smoke. Maybe I could get a vape but then I cough and I feel like someone would know. Or worse think I'm deathly ill in public.

I'm feeling good today. Chris is off work so I have help with the kids and chores. Although I'll probably send the kids to invite the neighbors to play in the back yard while I try to pack and meal plan and everything else. There's so much I need to do today I wish I had slept in a little longer.

At some point I've got to catch up all the laundry this week. Unfortunately I have like 2 pair of shorts I like and only a few tee shirts so I've got to have clothes to wear after I pack my good stuff. Maybe I'll just do it in a few days and pack everyone's clothes like 2 days before we leave..

I m feeling overwhelmed again so I'm going to make a to do list. I should be able to ft lots of good stuff in one day. So long as I don't need a nap later. Napping always fucks up my day and I hate doing it but sometimes I just have to.

Ok so I'm going to wake my kids up after making that list.

[pricemarshfield]

don’t go

A post-canon/canon divergence Climbing Class fic. Read on AO3 here. Does not name the monsters from UD.

The thing is, Chris never believed in ghosts.

Past tense, because though Ouija boards are definitely still bullshit, flesh-eating nightmares who are his friends from beyond made his internal perspective change, a little. Less focused on Ashley (now happily dating Sam, who'd have thunk), less focused on cleverness, less focused on everything other than survival.

The problem with that is, survival is way, way less of a concern everywhere else.

No matter how much Mike asks, Chris won't go to the gym, won't go running with Sam. Instead, he goes to the gun range and shoots, practices with a dozen different guns until he can hit a target from as far as they'll let him try. Someone asks him if he wants to go hunting, and he says, "No, thanks. I don't have the stomach for it." With a practiced, self-deprecating grin and a little anecdote about getting sick in health class after watching Supersize Me (but hey, he'll still eat fast food!), they just laugh, clap his shoulder, and say, "Well, maybe next time."

Chris knows now how to hunt. He won't go because he doesn't want to go back to the mountain, but if something happens, if Jess ends up going on her expedition to find Emily's remains like she keeps talking about, if any circumstance happens that'll force him back out of his safety, he'll be ready. He has a dozen books on how to skin and prepare wild game, has a YouTube watch history that he probably shares with a future serial killer, is slowly working his way through quizzes on edible plants in the area he can forage.

Two weeks after the mountain, his friends all found it normal. Six months after the mountain, he worries he's the only one still caught up in it.

Sam's still going out in wilderness semi-regularly, albeit with so many protein bars in her bag that she could feed a small army. Mike throws himself into whatever the hell project he's involved with. (Chris and Ashley make a point of not asking about it, just to see his face turn red.) Jess rock climbs now, but however it started, now she just seems to be having fun, and Chris doesn't want to ruin the mood by asking why she's doing it. Ashley writes, poems and prose and articles, jumping on their fifteen minutes of fame to get a foot in the door of publishing.

Josh doesn't do much of anything.

They'd found him next to the bodies of Matt and Emily and Jack Fiddler, emaciated and staring at the bodies with a hunger that had caused all of this. (Chris assumes. He wasn't there, wouldn't have been there even if he'd known he would have found Josh okay. He wasn't brave before, let alone now.)

His parents won't let him keep a handgun in the house, so he moves.

Finding an apartment is hard. Nothing to do with the publicity or lack of options or even money; he just is picky. It needs good WiFi, because he's still Chris Hartley. It needs a room without windows, easily defensible and big enough to be able to stockpile food. It needs walls that aren't painted a sickly green color that he jokes is scarier than the idea of going back.

justgidding: Terrible joke!

justgidding: Even if it wasn't in bad taste, it's just not funny.

sn0wflakequ33n: I thought it was funny Chris

gogogadget: thank you jess

screamking: Oh bro is that that place on Hilda St?

screamking: I looked at that place when I was trying to find a place

screamking: Definitely the worst

ladykiller: why did you move out, rich boy? don't you have like six bedrooms in your old place?

sn0wflakequ33n: don't be a dick, mike

smartcookie: Eh

smartcookie: Not the most dickish thing one of us has done this year

justgidding: Okay guys, let's not bring this up over TEXT!!

sn0wflakequ33n: why do you hate the internet sam

smartcookie: I always forget how much of a Luddite you are, babe

ladykiller: i don't know what that means

gogogadget: i feel like we've gotten farther from the point

gogogadget: which is how ugly these walls are

So, yeah. Apartment hunting. Would it be weird to ask Josh what place he found? He needs to move if he's gonna get a gun, and while he knows logically it's not going to help and that he's not in danger, he's pretty sure just having it around would be great for his peace of mind.

Also in the case of monster attack, but at this point, preparedness for monster attacks and his peace of mind are pretty much one and the same. Not only correlational but causal relationship.

gogogadget: josh dyou mind sending me the address?

screamking: Why, you coming over?

gogogadget: trying to find a place

gogogadget: or are you still looking?

screamking: Nah, here

screamking has sent you their location!

---

Chris is sure that the place Josh's sent him will be too expensive, because Chris is comfortable, but Josh is. Well. His family owned a mountain (past tense). But as it turns out, if he moves in now in February rent is cheaper for as long as he lives here. It's still a lot, but it's at the very upper range of his budget rather than completely out of it.

They don't allow pets, but they do allow (legal) guns, and Chris signs the lease right after seeing the place. The property manager seems thrilled, but Chris doesn't really care why; he's just glad to have a place.

Sam and Ashley are the only two friends available to help him move, though Ashley mostly just picks through his books. Chris doesn't have a ton of stuff, and the only really heavy things are the one box of books and his PC. It takes one trip in just the one car and then he's in his apartment, alone.

Unpacking takes the better part of a couple days, but that's mostly just building furniture and setting up his food stores. The place doesn't quite feel like his, but he's alright with that. It feels safe, and that means a lot more.

His neighbor keeps thudding against the wall, though, and at 2am, when it wakes Chris up, he bangs back in annoyance.

"Sorry," his neighbor calls.

"...Josh?" Chris responds.

"Oh, what?" Josh says, and then Chris' phone lights up.

gogogadget: dude what the fuck

screamking: My bad, dude

screamking: Won't happen again

gogogadget: look as long as it's not ghosts i'm okay lol

screamking: I've got some bad news for you

gogogadget: JOSH WE TALKED ABOUT PRANKS

He can hear Josh laughing from across the wall, and Chris texts back a bunch of middle finger emojis.

screamking: If the ghosts do scare you, consider this an open invitation to come over

gogogadget: there are BETTER WAYS to invite me over dude

gogogadget: game nights

gogogadget: weed

gogogadget: just a straight up booty call

Chris doesn't really realize what he's said until after he's sent it, and then he briefly considers skipping out on his lease so he can go lie down outside and wait to die.

screamking: So if I were to do one of those now

screamking: You'd come over?

gogogadget: if you have someone over and that's what the banging's about i'll literally never talk to you again

gogogadget: just so you know

screamking: Nah it's just a tennis ball

screamking: Helps with anxiety

screamking: Dude?

screamking: If this isn't your thing we can still be friends, man

screamking: That better be you knocking on the door

---

justgidding: Chris, wake up!!!

justgidding: You said you'd go to the farmer's market today

justgidding: I WILL break this door down I don't care about your security deposit.

justgidding: Ashley says you're not answering your phone

justgidding: Josh is, though :)

justgidding: I'm texting the group chat

gogogadget: groupchat is one word

justgidding: Get dressed now we're going to the farmer's market!

gogogadget's phone can no longer recieve messages! This could be due to a loss of WiFi or the phone being turned off.

justgidding: Bitch?

gogogadget's phone can no longer recieve messages! This could be due to a loss of WiFi or the phone being turned off.

[mci-writing]

Attachment (Villain!Midoriya Izuku x Reader)

A/n:This fic was originally meant to be posted July 20th for @birds-have-teeth‘s Izumonth Server Collab! I enjoyed writing for this event and I hope you all enjoy this fic!

Warnings: Somewhat mature themes; reader is a sex worker; gun use; non-consensual touching of naked skin, but not quite groping; Slightly ooc Midoriya Izuku; Reader implied to not be the greatest at defending themselves

There’s a certain loneliness that comes into your mind when you’ve been put down all your life. It’s a form of depression everyone faces once in a while, one that hits some a little harder and hits others a bit less. Then there’s always a trigger and it hits some so low it’s nearly impossible for them to pick themselves back up. 

Some have no idea where their sudden upset came from, settling for letting the slump pass over instead of getting to the root and removing that unneeded variable. Others know exactly what set off the feeling and rather hide it from themselves, wearing a facade over their emotions until they finally can’t handle all the turmoil. That usually leads to… unruly situations and one to a few lives get taken in the process. 

Midoriya has observed enough to know that this… weak point can be manipulated into getting people tricked up in numerous webs for his own self gain. What point in time varies on the person and the situation, but people usually get pretty desperate once all the pieces finally hit just a little too deep for them to shake off the depressive state of unwantedness. He knows all too well himself what paths unwarranted thoughts lead you down when you’re trapped in desperation.

“Here’s the deal then… I help you if you help me,” However, as time passes and you’ve watched numerous people fall for the same trick from a couple of choice words, the small tug of remorse at the back of your mind eases into a silent plea of muddled feelings. Any struggle is resolved with a simple “for business” before he fast talks his way through another bungled, one-sided proposition that ends up with a once innocent civilian put behind bars for the blood they never had on their hands. Twisting fate in his scarred hands for the sake of his survival, “This whole situation will disappear if you just assist me in this one situation. You even get a cut”

There were a few successful missions here and there, and he always made sure to make his end of the deal rather quickly before anything could get too overly complicated. People would go missing and bank accounts would be filled with stolen money; Police turn their heads with a simple threat or bribe. Then the cycle repeats again and another kid that needs therapy gets sent down a dangerous path. If it was just a little over his jurisdiction, another body is left in the gutter of some busted neighborhood with little trace as to just what happened. 

And those that couldn’t wallow in the filth of their crimes usually handled their own punishment.

He learns to lay low, move places, but never forget names or faces. The process can be emotionally tolling on him at times. Certain situations tend to remind him of his times growing up, those hopeless situations that crawl from the depths of your mind and keep you up on late nights. He pushes them away and continues with his day, keeping an eye out for his next victims before he hits the road again. 

He passes numerous people on his way up to his apartment, his body swerving and curling in various ways to avoid the rambunctious space up the stairs and through the halls. He’s lucky to only bump into one person when he happens to glance away a moment. They’re also not paying much attention, squeaking out in surprise from the sudden collision and their hoodie falling in the aftermath. 

They fall back a bit, catching themself with their back-foot before they can fully trip up while Midoriya manages to hold himself from the impact. He’s forced to take in their features, finding himself gazing upon them a little longer than he intends before tearing his own emerald eyes away from their form before he can embarrass and draw extra attention to himself. It doesn’t help that their seemingly tantalizing, (e/c) eyes curiously stare up at him. His body warms in a way that reminds him of his prepubescent awkwardness and his cheeks light up a rare shade of red he’s normally able to keep composed.

He clears his throat before his feet begin moving again to quickly remove himself from the situation before he can open his mouth. He’s only able to have enough decency to give a half-assed apology in the midst of retreating to his home. His heart beats a little faster and takes awhile to calm.

~~~

He keeps notes on the surrounding tenants, documenting every inconvenience that they face and each unfortunate event that seems to surround their bubbles while he’s there. He tosses darts at possible targets daily as he keeps himself holed up in his small apartment. 

It’s a little more than surprising when you get a set of darts as a housewarming gift to accompany the usual “Yoroshiku onegai shimasu”, especially an expensive, name brand set of this caliber, but there are times where you get lucky, I guess? Then again, it came from the person he practically bulldozed his first day of being here and they insisted the incident was their fault, buying them as a “makeup gift” or something? The gift was accompanied with the information of their name as well. He wasn’t opposed and accepted them with open arms (of course, sending the darts in to his associates to check before he properly used them) before coming to the quick decision to distance himself just a little more than he usually does (because there’s something up with the way he finds himself just a little more on the warm side when he talks to them).

His room smells like katsudon from some random takeout restaurant from down the street that he picks up on his way home from those times he goes in and comes home late. He carries a duffel bag to and from his office, filling them with a spare set and replacing them on days things get messier than planned. There are days he finds bloody weapons he forgot to get rid of and days where his neighbors become curious of his occupation. Both are brushed off in the same manor, taken care of and disposed of respectively. 

He maps out the surrounding area for his next aim. He notes the various factors in notes, from the Pro heroes in this specific area to important landmarks he’d like to hit up for priceless souvenirs. He only takes a break to check and manage his time “responsibly”, but only the smell from his leftover boxes really distracts him by reminding him that he needs to probably get some food soon. It becomes a last priority each time he manages to push it away, but his body can only handle the denial for so long before he finally forces himself from his seat.

Midoriya steps out of his apartment once he gets everything he needs, pausing at the sight of his neighbor standing in front of their ajar door. He can only really see past it a bit, catching sight of maybe a chair and a stand? Their fingers are rummaging through a small pouch, their eyebrows furrowed and lips upturned in a pout as they search through it. He watches for a moment before releasing a sigh, walking up to them and clearing his throat to garner their attention.

“Are you looking for something?” He speaks up, his hands shoved in his pockets. His eyes catch the way their face lights up a shade or the nervous downturn their (e/c) eyes make. He takes note of the way their hold tightens around the pouch, the way they begin to sweat under his gaze before their eyes shyly glance back up at him.

“No. Not at all” They lie through their teeth, glancing down at their small bag one last time before they close it with a huff. They open their apartment door, sending him a quick smile, “Thanks for asking, though. I-I’ll see you around”

He stops himself from asking further, quickly nodding his own head and heading out the door of the building. He brushes the encounter off and instead focuses on getting himself a nice bowl of beef katsudon from down the street.

The trip doesn’t take him very long as he walks back in his apartment building with three plates stacked in a bag and a stick of pocky between his teeth. He stares ahead rather blankly as he mentally runs over the crap he’d recently gathered in passing. Some guy a few buildings down needs help with rent payment, a dad struggling over custody of his kid, and a washed up businessman needs enough money to get himself off the ground again. He grins to himself as his plans of another successful caper begin to formulate, so lost in his head he almost passes his door.

He pulls his keycard from his pocket, taking the time to swallow the cookie between his teeth before he gets the door opened. He pauses when he hears the door across the hall slam shut, his back straightening in panic and his body contorting to catch what happened. His eyes narrow at the hefty guy beside his neighbor’s door, rolling his eyes as the guy continues to knock at the door.

“Come on, (Y/n). You've gotta let me in. I’ve changed-” Midoriya sighs as he closes his door, his grip on his bag tightening as he fully turns around and walks up to him. He pulls on an old smile he only pulls in situations that are a little more sensitive and he prays it doesn’t seem disingenuous when he steps up to the door.

The guy is just a foot over Midoriya, bulkier and forcefully intimidating. His intimidation is so fake that Midoriya has to hold himself back from laughing. He settles for clearing his throat to garner the guy’s attention, holding the bag up and innocently tilting his head.

“Hey, is, uh, is (Y-Y/n) here? We sort of planned a l-lunch date for today…” He inwardly cringes at his own words, still managing to hold up the act. The idea of even doing something remotely that romantic with anyone was enough to get his cheeks flushing enough and his, as others say, green, doe eyes was enough to help pull off the innocent look for him.

 “You don’t seem like much..” The dude looks him over, lip upturned in judging disgust. Midoriya has to hold back a roll of his eyes, his free hand making it to his back pocket and setting itself inside as he waits for the guy to finish sizing him up. The smirk that comes to that guy’s face seems to piss Midoriya off just a little more, his voice now louder and taunting, “You really couldn’t do any better, (Y/n)?!”

“LISTEN HERE, YOU PIECE OF SHI- Midoriya? H-Hey!” The sudden yank of the door causes Midoriya to jump just a little more than he thought it would. Hearing their tone of voice and the sudden rise in volume was a little more than surprising to him, especially considering how quiet and to themselves they tended to be when he was around.

“I said you could call me Izuku, i-if you wanted. We’ve already been through so much as is, (Y/n),” He watches their (e/c) eyes dart between the bag in his hand, him, and the other guy standing next to him. They seemingly calm down a bit, a bit of a nervous smiling coming to their face at the sight of Izuku being there. He lifts the bag a little more, stepping to be more in their peripheral vision and reassuring them of the situation, “I hope you don’t mind katsudon…”

“Come on then, Izuku” They open the door a little wider with a kind smile, turning away from them before walking inside. Midoriya takes a moment before following behind, grinning as he closes the door in the guy’s face.

He doesn’t know what to expect when he walks inside, but the barren apartment was a bit of a surprise. It shouldn’t have been. He’s seen people with gaping holes in their walls and others with cow sized rodents running around. This wasn’t anything new at all, especially in such a cheap apartment complex, but it didn’t connect with the housewarming/apology gift he received from them the first week he moved in. There’s a flyer on a small table conveniently placed near the front door. Green eyes scan over the paper covered in various shades of lustful blues and accentuated pinks, swiping the leaflet with finesse and walking just a little further inside after removing his shoes. 

He pushes it to the back of his mind and instead focuses on sharing the katsudon he ordered. It was more than likely a little more lukewarm than either of them would have liked, but that isn't enough to wane his hunger as he pulls the take out bowls out of the bag. He passes (Y/n) some chopsticks, taking his own between his fingers and flipping the top off of his.

The two eat in silence. One believes it to be calming, allowing him to get a look around the room and properly inspect the other without seeming out of place, while the other finds it rather awkward as they search their mind for how to break it. When (y/n) finally does find the right words, they speak up almost meekly. It’s a great contrast from their fussing earlier, yet it was what Midoriya was used to hearing from them, “Sorry that you got involved with all… that”

That was one way to describe that encounter…

“It’s fine. We all deal with crazy people from time to time”

“Yeah…”

~~~

That wouldn’t be the last time Midoriya would find himself stepping into a similar situation for his neighbor across the hall. It seemed every week there was some dick outside waiting on them, trailing them home, or practically trying to force their way into their apartment. It seemed almost non-stop and was very distracting from his job. He had plans he needed to work out and pawns to create to go in his stead, but instead he was playing hero for his resident next door. He could make it easier on himself and ignore the pricks outside, let them have at them however they were looking to. Turn a blindeye to it all and pretend he has no idea when they inevitably go missing.

However, the flyer on his wall above his laptop reminds him that he just can’t do that. He has to watch over them for a reason and to just let that go out of sheer annoyance won’t feign him much luck when he finally sends his next team out to the field. If he has to feed them every night, have his goons keep watch of them on their way to work at the darkest hours of the night as well as their way home at the very crack of dawn, and leave them small gifts for the better fit of their survival then he’ll do just that to ensure that this deal doesn’t just slip away from his fingers. A sex worker is more than essential to the very job spending time with (Y/n) was distracting him from, especially if they knew their way around the underground of this neighborhood. 

They were good at their job, very good at their job. He’s visited once or twice, only really making his presence known as of late (how many times he has gone to see them prior to that is really only his concern and a personal choice on his part) so they’d talk more openly about it with him and stop dancing around their profession (pun intended). They had a proficiency to their movements that he’s rarely seen in such low par establishments which, added with their fluidity and attractiveness, made it pretty obvious why so many patrons try to find their way to (Y/n)’s apartment in an attempt to gain just a little more than a bit of lewd teasing.

His mind races with the various places and positions he can place them in for this to work, reminding him just how important it is for him to properly socialize with the tenant across the hall. Getting attached wouldn’t be much of a problem. It’s never been much of a problem to him before and it's not like he had much of a reason to keep up such a facade of caring after. Whatever happened to them after wasn’t much of his concern, even if taking them on for more missions later would make a couple a little easier-

That was the original objective, anyway. There’s no room for truly caring for someone when you’re working underground, no room for getting beside yourself and growing any bonds deeper than respected co-workers. Midoriya’s been doing this job for years, first starting out as an intelligence kid for one of the yakuza groups in his neighborhood. He’s seen what kind of hurt it can lead to by keeping people close and how climbing up the ladder of power adds to the heartbreaks caused. 

Midoriya feels himself sigh as he shakes himself from thinking on the subject any longer, going back to his map of the High Cape, an expensive bar upstreet commonly used as a venue for support item bidding. One support item in particular had his and everyone else in the industry’s attention. He knew a couple of villains that would bid ten times the amount of money the device would actually go for and he could definitely use the money for his future projects. With the various vents and ducts in the building (mainly for quirk occurrences rather than heating and cooling the building), he’d need someone with a quirk or some similar ability that would allow them to easily slip by. His eyes move up his table, landing directly on the perfect person: A tenant down the hall, practically a teenager living on her own. She’s small enough for it and she could definitely use a cut of the cash they’d get-

“Hey, Izuku? I’m using your shower again” Midoriya jumps in his seat at the sudden opening of his door, his hands scurrying to put everything out of view. He turns around just as the door closes behind his intruder, towel wrapped around their body and the sparkly new loofa he bought them the other day held tightly in their hand. He’s seen this sight so many times the past month and it still manages to make his cheek tinge a hint of red at the idea of a bare body being there (it doesn’t help he has a very good idea of just what lays under there from the various performances of theirs he’s attended). Times like this make him feel more like their overprotective sugar daddy than an employer trying to get them in a job.

“You sure you don’t want me to pay your water bill? I don’t mind” He reminds as he watches them make their way to his bathroom. His swivel chair moves with his body as he stretches, the satisfying cracks his bones makes causing him to hum out in misplaced pleasure. He doesn’t expect too much of an answer back once the shower water comes on, turning his chair back to his desk and grabbing his planning journal, “I’m pretty close to just doing it against your will!”

He opens it up, reading over it’s contents. He adds a few more spare details as he thinks the plan over, sighing once more as he thinks over his current lab rats. He’s already planted the seeds for a few needed pawns, catching sight of their responses to his anonymous proposal and enjoying the way many of them were quick to send their responses to their designated areas. It makes him chuckle each time he sees those so ready to change their situation “for the better”. Those same people who jump at the deal without hesitation tend to be the ones to fully follow the plan through, do everything they're supposed to and deliver what he needs to his palm, yet they also do the irrational once the deeds they’ve committed really sinks in.

“You’re always writing in that thing when I come over” He hears their wet footsteps on the tiled floor before he realizes the water’s cut off.

“Don’t sit on the bean bag chair until you fully dry off” His jade orbs slowly look up at (Y/n), a knowing look on his face when he looks up to find them loosely dressed in one of his old t-shirts and, hopefully, a pair of underwear. He finds himself frowning seeing the fabric stick to their wet body the way it did, accentuating parts of them that he wished other people didn’t see. He sets his notebook down and trades it’s position for his phone (purposefully bugged in a way to keep out peepers), “Have you eaten today?”

The shrug he receives reminds him that he shouldn’t have bothered asking before he orders them something through one of his subordinates. His eyes gaze over their body again, this time lingering just a little longer. He turns away again, ignoring the way his cheeks warm. 

Having them laid out on his bean bag chair, legs spread enough for him to get enough of a view to confirm that they were indeed wearing underwear added another rosy shade. It reminds him why he’s approaching them in such a protective way and why he has to make sure he gets close enough for them to trust him with their life.

“Do you trust me?” It’s a simple question. It should’ve been a straightforward response from here on out. He discretely reaches under his desk as they hesitate, keeping the steel device out of their line of sight as he stands to his feet. 

(Y/n) nervously grins as Midoriya slowly approaches and there’s this look in his eyes that they’ve never seen from him. They stand to their feet themselves in a wary manner, glancing around for any indication that this was just a prank that they’d laugh off in a few minutes, “Of course I trust you… You’ve already done so much for me, it’d be kinda crazy for me not to-”

“But with your life?” Their heart stops when he pulls the gun out and aims it their way, his index finger close to the trigger and ready to pull it so easily, “Are you willing to dedicate yourself to my case if your survival depended on it?”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” He shoots once, the bullet just barely missing them and perfectly hitting the center of his dart board on the wall behind them. A sign that that’s not what he wants to hear, “Izuku-”

“Are you going to listen to whatever I say when the time calls for it?” The smirk on his face holds nothing more than amusement as he stares them down, patiently awaiting their answer. His head tilts to the side, eyes narrowing slightly as he speaks again, “We both know I’m the only thing keeping you alive and well… I’m really not asking for much and it really benefits you in the long run”

Another hesitant, painfully awkward silence follows that statement as (Y/n) thinks over their options at the moment. They could either defy his request and die right here in his apartment or they could accept his request and do whatever he says to keep yourself alive and, most probably, be taken care of the way he has been taking care of them. It doesn’t take rocket science to decide which was better at the very moment, “I trust you, Izuku...”

“Call me Deku when you’re working” He takes a step forward, the gun still threateningly being held. He flips it in his hold before getting it in a comfortable position again, enjoying watching the person before him squirm under scrutiny at the possibility of a bullet shooting through them. The whole scene gave him excited goosebumps, his coy smile still on his face as he watches them reveal their nervous ticks before him. All of this because they really thought he’d shoot, “Take my shirt off”

He watches as it comes off, the sight of their bareness almost enough for him to put the gun down and properly take it in. He releases a breath through his nose, stepping forward enough for him to reach out and press his fingertips into their skin. He pulls (Y/n) closer, the gun pressing into their side as he enjoys the feeling of having them flushed to his chest.

“I could kill you so easily and no one would know…” He buries his nose in their neck, the cold metal pressing a little harder into their skin as his hold on them tightens. Deku feels the tremble in their breathing and it almost makes him chuckle as he’s quick to reassure, “A shot here would cause quite a bit of damage, but not an immediate kill-” He digs the barrel more into their skin, almost enough to leave an indent, before he lifts it to their forehead with a degrading laugh, “Here would definitely kill you immediately”

His hand eases down their side, relishing in the soft feeling of their skin and giving weightless squeezes. He stops just above their hip, fingertips brushing over the waistband of their underwear (which he ensures to pull back enough to startle them, but not really harm them), before his fingers slowly ease up with feather-like touches. He pulls back a bit and lifts the gun to their chin to have their (e/c) eyes meet his. The look they gave him seemed vacant, yet submissive in a way he wasn’t used to seeing from them. It causes a small ping in his heart and a soft shade to come to his face once he realizes just how close he was to the very naked (Y/n) in the middle of his apartment. 

“Stuff like this would leave you vulnerable during an assignment, y’know? I won’t always be there to protect you from getting taken advantage of…” He’s quick to back away, lifting their hand and setting the gun there. He closes their hand around the trigger, circling around and leading them to hold the gun up properly, “So I might as well teach you how to use it, right? A thank you gift”

He ignores the warm feeling in his chest at having them pressed against his body again (this time with the added bonus of him being more self aware) and continues with his instructing, pulling away to let them try at shooting at the target just above his desk. He throws advice towards them here and there as he grounds himself against, thinking over just how he was going to get through the rest of this without his feelings developing beyond this point.

He reminds himself that he was just trying to warn himself of this very things, his hands reaching over carefully and helping them aim just a little better. It allows him to get a feel for how cold they are, their goosebumps riled up against the skin of his palm enough indication. He tugs his jacket off before he carefully drapes it over their shoulders, lifting the wet shirt from before off the ground, “Go ahead and get comfortable again while I take care of this. The food’s right down the road”

“Hey, Izuku? I meant what I said about trusting you, even if it costs me my life in the long run…” He originally took their nod a bit ago as an okay sign of where they’d just left off and it would’ve been enough confirmation for him to retreat with the wet clothing in his hand. However, he stops once he hears them speak up for the first time since he forcefully interrogated their loyalty to him and their words are enough for his heart to pound in his chest a different way than the original adrenaline he’s used to feeling when having someone swear their allegiance to him, “I’ll do what I’ve got to if it means helping you after everything you’ve helped me with this past month”

Typically, Deku doesn’t find himself too concerned with those he signs contracts with. The process is cut and dry: He helps them and they help back. How they go about their lives after has nothing to do with him as long as they’re not caught snitching. He’s seen various different responses and scenarios play out with these random civilians, situations he’s learned to let happen as they are because they’re out of his jurisdiction. He knows he could probably save a few lives if he wanted with the power he has baking behind him and maybe he could save certain people from prison, even if they put themselves there.

None have managed to make him tear up the way he currently did. He realizes just how attached he’s gotten to (Y/n) in a little over a month (which is really a big jump when compared to the literal months he’s spent with others that were nothing more than irritating) and it’s so hard for him to just accept that they’ve taken the job without much hesitation or question. He knows what that can mentally do to a person, he’s seen it before his own eyes. There have been more than many times someone’s realized they got screwed over after putting everything they had into a job and then for them to take a gun, knife, or maybe even using their own quirk to take that last breath. He’s never been so… concerned over how someone’s life would be majorly fucked from agreeing to his terms.

And all he’s really left to do is mentally reprimand himself for allowing himself to get so attached to some random sex worker he met by chance in the midst of moving into his apartment building. This was going to be a little more than a mess of blood on his hands when he finally gets that support item.

[antiadvil]

Starlight

summary: There isn’t much else to do during lockdown, so Dan and Phil go stargazing.

rating: PG13

wc: ~2k

notes: This was written for the @phandomreversebang for the beautiful prompt and art provided by @ayushikuu and betad by @gravyflavoredjuulpod. They were a great team to work with and I'm really happy with how the overall project turned out!

read on ao3 or after the cut

“We should go stargazing,” Phil said one morning over breakfast.

Dan snorted. “In London? Good luck, mate.”

Phil shrugged. “I was thinking not in London.”

“You want to go on a trip? Everything’s shut down, Phil.”

“Not far. I bet you don’t have to travel very much to get away from the light pollution.”

Dan looked skeptical.

“Really,” Phil insisted. “We should do it. It’ll be fun.”

Dan stirred at his coffee. “It might be fun.” “It will be fun.”

“Stars are pretty,” Dan said.

“So are you.” Phil dropped a kiss to Dan’s cheek. “I’ll do the planning. Don’t worry about it.”

It was surprisingly easy to rent a car for a night. Phil was still in shock that it was legal for him to drive a car; he had been ever since he turned seventeen. However, Phil seemed to have fooled the rest of the world into thinking he was a functional adult, including the woman he spoke to on the phone, so after a walk to the car rental place and a 5 minute conversation with the man at the desk, he handed a set of car keys to Dan and pointed him towards a small white car at the end of the line.

Dan raised his eyebrows at the car keys Phil had put in his hand.

“I said I would do the planning,” Phil said, “Not the driving. I think we’re all better off if I do not do the driving.”

Dan grumbled slightly, but he took the keys and climbed into the driver’s seat, peeling his mask off and dropping it in the glove compartment. “Do you have directions?”

Phil followed suit. “Of course.” He pulled up the directions he had prepared on his phone. After looking at some light pollution maps online, he had chosen a general area just past the outskirts of London to aim for and prepared directions in advance. They’d just drive until it was dark enough that they could see the stars.

Dan started the car and carefully pulled out of the parking spot. “Lead the way then, planning boy.”

Phil wrinkled his name. “Planning boy?”

“It’s a nickname in progress.”

“Stop progressing it. It sucks.”

Dan stuck his tongue out. “You suck.”

“Oh yeah? Well your mum-”

A car honked behind them.

Phil looked at Dan and giggled.

The car honked again.

Phil scrunched his nose at the car, but he started reading Dan the directions.

They quickly found themselves outside of London. Phil kept an eye on the sky until he thought he could see enough stars, and then told Dan to stop.

Dan pulled off to the side of the road and climbed out of the car. “Here looks good.”

Phil pulled a picnic blanket out of his backpack and followed, unfolding the blanket and laying it as best he could on the ground. He sat down, basking in the warm summer air and stretching himself out to look up at the stars.

“I hope whoever owns this field doesn’t mind,” Dan said, sitting down next to Phil.

“I’m sure they won’t,” Phil said, hoping they didn’t come out to check. He turned his head back to the sky, trying to take in the sheer number of stars sparkling above him. “I always forget these exist.”

Dan pointed at one. “Is that Sirius?” Dan asked. The brightest star in the night sky.

Phil pulled out his phone and checked a night sky app he had downloaded earlier in the day. “No, that’s Venus.” He put his phone down. “Sirius isn’t actually visible tonight, I don’t think.”

“Disappointing.”

“A bit,” Phil said. “But we’ll be able to see a lot of other stars tonight.” He rearranged himself on the blanket. “Did you know Sirius is actually two stars?” Phil smiled, proud of his little star factoid.

“No,” Dan said, rolling over on the blanket, propping himself on his elbow to listen.

“Well, it is,” Phil said. “It’s one bright star and then a dimmer one. They orbit each other, it’s a binary star system.”

“Mmm,” Dan said. “Like in Star Wars. On that planet.”

“Yeah,” Phil said. “Like in Star Wars.” He paused. “I like the idea of binary star systems. Being a star must be so lonely. You’re all on your own; all of the other stars are so far away. It would take years to even send a message to your closest neighbor. At least being a binary star means you don’t have to be alone.”

Dan laughed. “Phil, by star do you mean celebrity?”

Phil tilted his head. “I didn’t mean to.” A pause. “I don’t like the word celebrity. But I guess it works, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dan said softly, folding his head into Phil’s neck. “It’s a nice metaphor.”

Phil pulled Dan a bit tighter. “I’m glad I’m not alone.”

Dan sighed a bit, melting into Phil’s touch. “Being alone sucks.”

“If we were Sirius, which one of us do you think would be the brighter one?” Phil knew the answer, had seen how bright Dan’s coming out video had burned while his own was just a flicker in the background, but he wanted to know what Dan had to say.

“You,” Dan said immediately.

Phil couldn’t help but laugh. “What?”

“Phil, I haven’t uploaded a video in over a year.”

“But when you do-”

“But I haven’t.”

Phil sighed. “But when you do-” he tried again.

Dan shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m tired of the spotlight. It was fun for a while, but I just… I don’t want to be that person anymore. I need a break. It’s nice being less in the public eye.”

“Do you think someday you’ll want to be that person again?”

Dan hesitated. “It won’t be the same. But someday, yeah. Once I have everything figured out.”

Phil laughed.

Dan poked him. “Don’t laugh. I will have everything figured out one day. You’ll see.”

“Mmhmm.”

Dan poked him again.

“Okay, okay,” Phil laughed, rolling over. “It’ll be good to have you back,” he added, fondness creeping into his voice.

Dan snorted.

“I mean it. So many people don’t have anyone, Dan. They’re hurled into this soul-sucking business all on their own. Do you know how rare it is to have someone with you you can depend on? Not even necessarily in entertainment, or on youtube, just… in general. So many people are alone.”

Dan hummed quietly. “I feel bad for everyone who hasn’t found their soulmate yet.”

“Do you really believe in soulmates?” On a certain level, Phil knew what Dan’s answer would be. He’d watched Dan’s coming out video. He still had trouble keeping himself from blushing when he heard the way Dan described him. Real best friends. Companions through life. Like, actual soulmates.

“Yes,” Dan answered instantly, without any hesitation.

Phil propped himself up on his elbow. “You’re like, the least spiritual person I know.”

“You believe in soulmates.”

Phil waved a hand dismissively. “I believe in all sorts of weird shit. Not you, though.”

Dan shrugged. “I believe in things I have evidence for,” he said softly, reaching to brush at Phil’s hair.

Phil’s heart melted. “Oh.”

Dan smiled, pulling his hand back.

“No, keep talking,” Phil said, teasing, though he did mean it, a little bit. It was nice to hear Phil’s boyfriend say nice things about him. So sue him.

Dan laughed. They had been together long enough that he could recognize Phil’s clumsy request for affection. “From the moment we met, there was just… something about you. I don’t know how to describe it. We just… clicked. I couldn’t get enough of you. I never wanted to stop talking to or being with you. But it’s not the initial feelings that make me think we’re soulmates. There are so many other explanations for that. Weird teenage hormones, not enough exposure to well adjusted gay people when I was a kid. It’s what happened after that that convinces me. How the feelings didn’t fade. How we fit together. Grew together, almost. I just can’t imagine anyone fitting me better. I can’t imagine someone finding me when I needed them more. It was like it all happened for a reason. I don’t know how or why. I just know it did.”

“Mm,” Phil said, not sure how to reply to a speech like that. “I love you too, I guess.”

Dan laughed, and then they were quiet. “I love you too.”

The stars really were beautiful, Phil thought. He pointed out the few constellations he knew to Dan, who listened attentively, even though he probably already knew them.

It was comforting, the warmth of his boyfriend beside him, the light of the stars scattered above, the darkness blanketing it all.

“I don’t want to leave,” Dan admitted.

“Me neither.” The stars were so bright. Living in London, it was easy to forget about how beautiful the sky was when you could actually see it. “We can do this again sometime if you’d like.”

Dan hummed quietly. “That might be nice.” A short pause. “But we still have to leave.”

“Is it really leaving if we’re going to come back?” Phil pondered, half joking.

“Yes.” Dan pouted. “It’s an ending. I hate endings.”

“Maybe it’s a beginning,” Phil said.

“A beginning of what?”

Phil shrugged. “Our drive home. More nights like this. A new chapter of our life.”

Dan sighed, half-mocking. “That’s the trouble with beginnings. Always an ending included.” He noticed Phil’s glance. “It’s silly. I know.”

“It’s not silly,” Phil said softly, dropping a kiss to the side of his head.

Dan sighed, turning towards Phil’s voice and resting his head on Phil’s shoulder. They lay like that for a few minutes, just breathing, melting together, until Phil pulled away.

“C’mon,” Phil said, standing up and reaching a hand down for Dan. “Let’s go.”

Dan took his hand.

Dan drove the way home mostly in silence, letting his left hand drift towards Phil’s right. Phil glanced over, and Dan seemed to have a decent amount of control over the car with his remaining hand, so Phil accepted Dan’s hand, folding their fingers together. The car rental place was closed when they returned, but Phil filled out the return paperwork and put it in an envelope with the key and put it in the dropbox for returns. Then he returned to Dan and they started their walk home.

“That was nice,” Phil said.

“It was,” Dan agreed.

Phil glanced around. The streets were nearly deserted, so he reached for Dan’s hand. Dan accepted, using their threaded fingers to pull Phil a little bit closer to him.

“What time is it?” Phil asked.

Dan yawned. “Nearly 3 am.”

Phil yawned too. No wonder the streets were so dead. “I’m tired.”

Dan sounded amused. “You’re normally up later than this anyway.”

Phil bumped Dan’s shoulder. “So are you!”

“Maybe I’m not tired,” Dan said, yawning again.

“Stop yawning,” Phil said, fighting a yawn back. “You’re making me yawn.”

Dan made a face. “I’m not making you do anything, dork.”

“You know, people copy yawns more when people they’re close to yawn. So sort of, you are making me do it by being so irresistible.” Phil tried for a wink.

Dan just snorted. “Just don’t yawn.”

“How am I supposed to not yawn when my soulmate yawns?”

Dan laughed, climbing the stairs to their flat and fumbling with his keys. “Only you could say that sentence,” he said with an almost unbearable amount of fondness in his voice.

Phil turned back and looked up before he followed Dan into their flat, hoping for a last glance at the stars.

The sky here was completely black.

[avengerscompound]

Start Over

Start Over:  A Black Widow Fanfic

Buy me a ☕

Character Pairing:  Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader Square: @ladiesofmarvelbingo​ - M4 Temporary Death/Presumed Dead

Word Count:  2524

Rating: M

Warnings:  Canon compliant alternate ending.  Angst.  Grief.  Hurt/Comfort.  Mentions of the extremely bad consequences of both the snap and the blip.

Synopsis:  As you try and pick up the pieces of your life after the blip and the death of your girlfriend you discover things aren’t as they seem.

A/N: This is kind of a fix-it fic but not really...  Just an extended ending to Endgame.  I’m apparently emo for Nat this week.

Start Over

The world was supposed to be better.  After everyone had turned to dust things had gone downhill really fast.  Thanos had taken out half of all life which hadn't actually changed anything.  There was just half as much of everything.  But it wasn't just that.  Planes had dropped out if the sky and crashed into populated areas killing hundreds.  Power Plants were suddenly left unmanned.  Some caught fire.  Some went thermonuclear and wiped out entire areas making them uninhabitable.  Babies and small children were left without parents and starved in their homes.  People disappeared while cooking creating house fires and because the emergency services were all overwhelmed all of a sudden whole city blocks burned.

In the end, what was supposed to be half was actually two thirds.  It took a long time to recover.  But slowly things seemed to start to.  Humanity was struggling but the planet seemed to take a moment to breathe.  The air was cleaner and you started to be able to see the stars at night even in the middle of New York City.  You met Natasha Romanoff.

Things were pretty far from perfect.  Whatever you had been before everyone had turned to dust, you weren't any longer.  It was like that for everyone.  There was before the incident and after.  They were separate.

Immediately after people began to turn to dust, you’d heard the cries of your neighbors baby.  Thankfully your landlord hadn’t been one of the ones dusted.  You and he had gone through every apartment looking for children or pets left alone or appliances left on.  You’d then gone to the next building and the next.  You collected a police officer on the way and a volunteer firefighter that helped you break into the places you didn’t have keys for.  By the time you physically couldn’t move your legs anymore you had gathered 23 children under the age of 10 and another 3 teenagers who were home alone after seeing their parents disintegrate along with more birds, fish, cats, and dogs than you could count.  The next day you had gathered more people to help.  Until there was a team of people taking turns looking after the kids you had found and going around finding ones you’d missed.

Thankfully you’d had your head together when you had started the process.  You’d taken pictures from each place you took the children from and written down addresses and any other personal information you could find.  You knew that whether the disappeared people came back or not there would be family who would look for some of the children at least.  You needed to make sure you weren’t making it harder to find them.

When the word had gotten back to the Avengers about the group you’d coordinated Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff had come to provide help.  Initially, they’d just done the initial sweeps of the city following the very protocol you’d started.  There was something about both of them  Of course, they were hurt like everyone else.  Everyone had experienced loss.  But for them, there was more.  They blamed themselves.  It was guilt and loss and fear that no one else seemed to carry with them the same way.  They were determined they fix things but they seemed to have no idea how or where to start.

They moved the whole thing into the old Avengers Tower.  The building had mostly been empty since it had originally sold and with what had happened a lot of businesses had downsized.  Stark Industries didn’t own the building anymore, but one of their subsidiary charities now rented out the ten floors of apartments and dorms that used to be used for the Avengers and the other employees.  It was now housing for displaced children and carers.  Many of the carers had lost their own children and were trying to fill that hole in themselves by helping the kids you’d found.

Having the use of the AI Friday to clear background checks and find family members made things work so smoothly that children from out of state were sent to you.  When the city had been scoured and deemed free of homeless children and pets Natasha and Steve both began to help with the kids.  Natasha more than Steve.  You’d later learned about Steve’s support group he set up.  Natasha did get something special out of helping the children.  It helped her with her pain and the need to fix things.  She was lost and god damn if she didn’t want to be found.

And find her you did.  It wasn’t easy.  Her walls were built high and she fortified them by keeping busy all the time.  You were busy too, but there was something that drew you to the red-head ex-assassin.  It was slow-burn in the worst way.  Holding each other at bay.  Two steps forward one step back.  All the cliches for two hurt and scared people who want more and are just too scared and have too much to make up for before they get to be happy.  But like all cliches you had ended up together and in love.

Maybe not happy.  It was hard to be completely happy in the post-snap world.  Or so Nat would say.  Not when your friends and family were gone and you spent your time taking care of orphans who were more afraid than you were. Not when her best friend was on some kind of murderous spree and the family she had made with his and her other friends and scattered to the wind.  But you were happy together.  You shared each other’s burdens and the joys.  And they came.  When you found a lost family member for one of the kids or found a loving adoptive family or when one came home from school proud about a grade or excited about a project.  You felt like parents in a way.  And as time moved forward you started to picture a life where maybe you could actually be parents.  Where you adopted some of the kids as your own and she realized that maybe the world as it stood didn’t need her to be an Avenger anymore.  It needed people to nurture it.

You had plans.  Not for now.  For later.  For when she was ready.  For when she could let go of what happened and moved forward in the world as it was and not get trapped in the idea that she could undo it all.

And then… and then …

And then Scott Lang had come back and given her hope again.

She’d said she was going to fix things.  She said they’d be better.  It was supposed to be better.  Bringing everyone back was supposed to make it better.

Maybe for some people, it was.

Not for you.

There was a lot of shit really.  When people returned some of them just appeared mid-air and fell to the ground because they’d been on planes when they disintegrated.  Lots of people appeared in the nuclear no go zones.  Some appeared inside other people and both ended up basically exploding, only worse, and more graphic.

People who had disappeared with infants now came to you to get their children who didn’t know them back from the parents who had raised them.  People who had skipped five years now no longer had homes or jobs because the world had moved on without them.  The population suddenly more than doubled and there weren’t the resources to provide for almost four billion new people.  Not anymore.

And worse… with all these people suddenly back, now there was no Nat.  She wasn’t there to hold you and tell you she would fix this.  Or even just tell you it didn’t matter because you had her and you’d get through it together.  Because you didn’t have her.  You didn’t even have someone who could come and break it to you easy.  You found out on the news like someone who hadn’t fallen asleep wrapped in her arms night after night.

She’d told you she was going to save the world.  Instead, you had lost yours.

No one mourned her openly.  There were monuments to Tony Stark everywhere.  On the news, there were groups of people openly mourning the sacrifice he made to throw the world back into chaos again.  Nat had small shrines in back alleys like she was an afterthought.

There were suddenly twice as many people on the planet and you’d never felt so alone.

It had been months since they’d returned and you were still struggling.  You knew Natasha wouldn’t want you to dwell on it.  You knew she’d want you to keep moving forward but it felt impossible.  You’d been carry all this stuff for so long and she’d been there and now you had the burden of her loss too.  You couldn’t sleep.  Instead, you walked through the city streets at night, visiting the little shrines set up for her.

You wore your grief like a coat.  You wrapped yourself in it and used it to keep the rest of the world out.  As you reached the first of the shrines on your circuit, you began pulling candles out from your purse.  You liked to refresh them.  There hadn’t been a funeral for Natasha.  That had broken your heart too.  You figured she’d at least earned new candles every night.

You kneeled down on the damp, broken asphalt and started lighting the candles that looked like they still had something left in them and putting out new ones.  The ground was cold and it bit into your legs, but you wore the discomfort like a penance.  A penance for not appreciating the time you had with her more.  For not begging her to stay behind and let the world move on.

You closed your eyes.  Not really praying exactly.  But you thought about her.  You thought about the nights you had stayed up talking work with her.  Which kids had family coming for them.  Which ones you thought you could place with families.  Plans to take them on trips to the zoo or to visit the Statue of Liberty or the Natural History Museum. You thought about what it was like falling asleep with her and waking up with her.  Her cute little half-smile when you showed up at the compound with real food.  Or the twinkle in her green eyes when she was about to pounce on you.  You thought about the plans for the future and how badly you wished things were different.  How badly you still wanted that life.  And how guilty and selfish you felt wishing she hadn’t done it.

Someone said your name.  It startled you from reverie and you looked up.  The voice had been familiar and so was the hourglass silhouette that stood at the end of the alley.  “What are you doing, Solnishko?”

“Natasha?”  You said.  Even as her name fell from your lips you thought you must be losing your mind.  You’d been carrying top much for too long and your mind had just fractured and you were starting to hallucinate.

The figure approached you, and as she got closer to the lights of the candles you could see her hair, blond at the ends, and her natural red from midway up.  She’d talked about having it cut or recolored to be even, but never found the time.  She looked down at you and smiled her half-smile, offering you her hand.  “It’s me, solnishko.”

You scrambled back from her, knocking over some of the candles along with a picture of her and some flowers.  “No.  No, you can’t be.  She’s dead.  Who are you?”

She sighed and crouched down, picking up the things you knocked over.  “Did you do this?”

You didn’t answer.  It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest and you were pretty close to throwing up.

She looked at the photo of herself and smiled sadly before putting it back.  “It’s really me,” she said gently.  “I don’t know if I can explain it properly.  Will you let me try though?”

You nodded, though you moved a little further away from her.

She sat down cross-legged on the ground opposite you.  “I told you we were going to time travel and collect the infinity stones?  The things that killed half of life in the first place?”

You nodded.  You’d heard the stories about Thanos a thousand times, and her call to tell you that she was going to get them and undo it had been rushed but she’d told you she loved you and would see you soon and everything would be fixed.  “Clint and I were sent for the soul stone.  The deal was you had to give up someone you loved.  A soul for a soul.  So I sacrificed myself.  I couldn’t ask Clint to do that when we were so close to getting his family back.  I died.  I remember dying.  And then… the stone was returned and I wasn’t dead anymore.  Or… I was but not at the same time.  It was like being in limbo.  There was an open expanse of water, only ankle deep.  And a hill with a tree. And me.   Then a voice said that because the soul had returned mine no longer needed to take its place.  I had the choice to move on, or I could go back.  If I went back I couldn’t go to Clint.  He’d given me up for the stone and that was the trade.  If I go to him it would take us both.  He can’t know I’m alive.  But you can.”

You looked her over and moved closer.  She didn’t move, just let you take your time coming to her.  “Is it really you, Natasha?”

“Yes, my darling.  I swear. I couldn’t leave you.”  She said holding out her hand to you, almost as if she was trying to befriend a scared puppy.

You reached out and put your hand in hers and when her fingers closed around yours, warm and familiar you fell into her and started to cry.  She held you as you sobbed against her.  The tears of relief and fear and all the pain you had been carrying with you flowing from you easily.  “It’s okay, Solnishko,” she soothed, her hand running down the back of your neck again and again.  “I’ve got you.”

When the tears slowed and your sobbing quieted she kept holding you and rubbing your back.  “I can’t stay here.”  She whispered.  “If Clint finds out I’m alive, then we both die.  I can’t risk being in the city where most people knew me.  I was thinking I’d go somewhere.  Australia?  Or New Zealand maybe?  Or we could go into space.  I’ll have to dye my hair again.  But I can start over.  Be whatever I want to be.  No one knows I’m alive.  Will you come?”

You looked up into her eyes.  They looked down at you with both hope and fear.  “Of course.  Yes.  Let’s do it.”

She smiled and leaned in and kissed you.  When her lips touched yours all the last remaining doubt that this wasn’t real, washed away.  This was Nat.  Your Nat.  And you were going to go and get the life you’d both earned.  The quiet family life you’d both dreamed of.

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Here Kitty Kitty || Ariana & Grace

TIMING: Afternoon August 24th PARTIES: @silveraccent & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY:  Ariana tries to use her craft fair prize to lure Layla the cat to her new building and accidentally summons foireaux cats, much to Grace’s dismay

To say things had been hectic lately would be a complete and utter understatement. There was only one day left before Ariana was supposed to change Ace and she was riddled with anxiety. It was a big responsibility, yes, but she was only half sure it’d actually get Lydia to leave him be. Otto was out of her head now, but she was still worried about where the hell Layla the cat had run off to. Conveniently enough, the prize she received for her submission to the craft fair was a cat whistle. Of course Layla wouldn’t run back to the trailer filled with dogs, but maybe she could lure her here so she could get her somewhere safe. After dropping off her security deposit and proof of income to her new landlord, she stood outside the building and used the whistle. Another girl was approaching, but she didn’t think much of it until a few little black cats ran up to her. Something didn’t feel quite right with the way they were looking at her, so she tried to get on their level and be friendly. “Well, hey there, kitties,” she said warmly before turning to her new neighbor, “I promise I’m not bringing all the cats with me when I move into a building. Heck, I’m not even bringing one. I’m sure my dog would lose her mind.” 

Despite the utilities being included in her rent, Grace refused to run her window unit longer than a few hours. This often resulted in walks around the neighborhood, and to the corner store to buy a supply of cold drinks and ice cream. On her way back, she spotted an unfamiliar face leaving the landlord’s office. Though she had only intended on giving her a firm nod and being on her merry way, the girl spoke to her, making her stop in her tracks. She looked down at the cats, not having noticed them at first. “If you were, I wouldn’t mind, there’s a mouse in my apartment.” Grace kneeled down next to the stranger, looking over the cat with a smile. They looked rough around the edges, certainly not house cats. She hadn’t seen many in this area, so seeing them now was a bit odd. “Where did they come from?” Grace asked as she slowly stuck the back of her hand towards the cat, not wanting to scare it. She looked down at the girl’s hand and noticed a pair of keys. “Oh, are you moving here?” Quite the observer, idiot. Grace thought to herself. 

It dawned on her that something with these cats didn’t seem quite right, but they approached her anyhow. Moira was really the only cat Ariana had gotten on well with and these cats were very much not Moira. She wondered if they could sense the wolf in her and if that made them uneasy. One seemed to dart through her legs so quickly that she almost fell over. She braced herself against the wall, the bricks slightly scraping her palm, and responded, “Hm, I could probably help with the mouse thing cat-free… I’m not much of a cat person. I think these little ones could tell.” Her tone was a little nervous as the cats continued to congregate around her and now Grace. Maybe the whistle only lured over cats out of frustration, but they all seemed rough and darker in color. She slowly backed away from them and extended her hand for Grace to shake. “Yep, I move in on the first so guess we’ll be neighbors. I’m Ariana,” she introduced herself brightly but was quickly tripped up again by another cat weaving through her legs. 

“Are you okay?” Grace asked as the girl leaned against the wall. She could see scratches on her palm. She had had her fair share of run ins with that wall, and it hadn’t ever been fun. “Really, you think so?” Grace asked as she ran her fingers along the top of the cat’s head. It rubbed against her hand then flitted away, its tail straight up. She straightened up and rubbed the back of her hand against the backs of her jeans. “Somebody mentioned no-kill traps, so I might try that first.” Grace watched as a few more cats rounded the corner, all of which at their feet, weaving in between them, their paws swatting at the air. “Ariana?” She smiled at her, “that’s a pretty name. I’m Grace.” She stuck her hand out to shake Ariana’s. “That’s cool though, there are a few cool people around here, I’m sure you’ll run into them soon. Grace watched as a cat ran forward and darted between Ariana’s legs. Grace reached out to steady her. “They’re really active, aren’t they? I have some canned tuna upstairs, I wonder if they’re hungry.” Grace turned her attention back to Ariana. “Are you from here? Or are you moving from out of state?” A part of her hopes that Ariana is new, like her, that way she won’t feel so lost, but something about her tells her that that isn’t the case. 

“Yeah, yeah, totally fine,” Ariana responded as she dusted any dirt off her hand. With the full moon approaching, it’d heal quickly enough. While her initial instinct may have been more to use her wolf-y instincts to get the mouse, it became clear she’d rather take the humane route. “Oh, yeah, I’ve seen those at the shop before. They should totally do the trick and you can release the mouse. You’ll want to do a quick check and make sure the walls and any nooks and crannies are all sealed too… that’s the part I’d be more of a help with.” She wanted to get excited when Grace introduced herself, Blanche had mentioned her after all, but it seemed like more of these cats were showing up and they didn’t look happy. “Grace,” she exclaimed weakly as she eyed the cats, “Blanche mentioned you. She’s one of my good friends and is how I even knew about this building.” She slowly backed away and looked back at Grace, “I’m not sure that’s the best-- something doesn’t seem right with them and more keep showing up.” Not taking her eyes off the cats, she answered, “Technically, yeah, I’ve lived all over but been here since Mar--” Oh hell no, was that cat getting bigger? It looked like it was. In this town, it was hard to know if claws and teeth alone would cut it and she didn’t really want to shift in front of her new neighbor. “I think we should probably… get away from here.” 

“Why would you be more help with--” Grace looked at the cats as they seemed to have multiplied in numbers. Hadn’t there only just been a few? She had lived at the complex for a while now and hadn't ever seen this many cats. There were a few who liked to hang around, but never in this big of a group. “Blanche?” Grace asked as she cut her gaze away from the cats, back to Ariana. It made sense, they all seemed to be similar in age. “Oh, yeah-- she’s really nice.” Grace wasn’t sure what was happening, the sudden shift in emotion, the unease, it was leaking into the air between them and made it hard for Grace to concentrate. Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion as she listened to Ariana, the urgency in her voice becoming a lot more clear-- she didn’t even need to feel the shift. “Is everything okay?” Grace asked as she looked back to the cats. A few had gotten noticeably bigger, but how was that possible? “Are you okay?” Grace asked again as she cut her attention back to Ariana, following her move to back away from the crowd of cats. They didn’t seem as nice as before, and it made Grace begin to grow uneasy. “I’ve never seen anything like that,” Grace muttered under her breath. 

Fuck, how did more cats keep showing up? Ariana knew that transforming to scare them off in front of her new neighbor definitely wasn’t an option. She wasn’t even entirely sure that would actually work as these clearly weren’t normal cats. Of course her craft fair prize wasn’t a normal cat whistle and she cursed herself for being this dumb. “I’m fine, but we gotta get out of here,” she insisted. As one of the growing cats approached them, Ariana grabbed Grace’s arm and pulled her away from the cat. She backed away slowly, keeping a very close eye on the cats. Perhaps it wasn’t the most human move, but she let out a low growl to intimidate the stupid cats. If anything, Grace would hopefully attribute it to the weird cats. She heard Grace’s hushed words and assured, “I’m sure you haven’t but it’s going to be fine.” Her voice sounded a lot more convincing that she felt. They were backed up a little closer to the door now. “You go in first,” she directed, “I’ll follow behind you.” If one of these things really was going to come at her, the wolf in her would take it from there, but she hoped they could both go away and the cats would just leave. 

“Oh-- okay, okay.” Grace knew to listen when she was being told to do something, at least, in this town-- she knew that if this girl knew Blanche, it was possible that she knew other things that Grace didn’t know yet, and she was very clearly disturbed by the cats that surrounded them now, and though it was dulled, she could feel something frantic off of Ariana. She followed Ariana’s guidance, and raised an eyebrow in question at the growl that clearly left Ariana. She didn’t question it, Grace had barked at geese before to get them to leave her alone, so wasn’t this the same? The door was behind them now, and Grace splayed her hand behind herself to grab the knob. She opened it and slipped in through it. She left enough room for Ariana to slip through, too, before she crowded by the door and pressed her face against the small window pane so she could look at the cats that now were angrily meowing at them. “What the hell was that?” She asked as she looked at Ariana. “They didn’t scratch you, did they?” 

It was a relief that Grace listened to her without questioning it. Ariana quickly slipped in the door behind her and let out a sigh of relief. The cats still seemed to be getting closer to the door and meowed angrily, but they couldn’t get in the door at least. She let out a long breath and thought of how she was going to answer Grace’s question. To be fair, she didn’t actually know what those cats were, but they were definitely supernatural. How much did Grace know about this sort of thing? Not that she was particularly great about beating around the bush, but she legitimately couldn’t think of a normal explanation. She shrugged as she still kept a close eye out the window. “I have no idea what that was. Thought they were cats, but something clearly wasn’t right with them,” she explained. She hoped Grace didn’t push too much because her only other explanation was definitely supernatural. “I’ve never seen anything like them before, but no, they didn’t scratch me, just tripped me up a bit. Didn’t really care to see what they’d do if they got any bigger.” 

Unease hung in the air, which in turn, made Grace’s stomach churn. She cradled her hands around her abdomen and watched the cats through the window in the door. Grace wasn’t sure what needed an explanation and what didn’t. Her time in White Crest had only become more confusing, and with every little thing happening, she wasn’t sure if she could hide it under weird or confusing anymore. She looked at Ariana as she began to speak with a raised eyebrow. “Maybe rabies or something.” That could be it, right? Grace only had experience with reanimated corpses, treasure hunts, and flying airplanes thrown by nobody. She didn’t know about cats, but who was to say there wasn’t something else going on? She moved away from the door in an effort to distance herself from the cats. “That’s good… that you didn’t get scratched, I mean, because if they are sick, then--” She stops herself, “maybe we should call animal control?” Her mind flickered to Kaden and her discussion of mice. Though, she had already brought up the mime breaking in through her window. How much could she go to other people for? “You can come up, if you want, until they’re gone.” She blinked at Ariana, “I have some tea and some leftover soup, if you want any?” 

It was very convenient that Grace had happened upon the idea of rabies on her own. Ariana would have never come to that rationalization would have definitely spilled the beans about the supernatural. Not that it was a secret she was particularly great about keeping that secret to begin with, but still. She didn’t need her new neighbor thinking she was a total freak. “Rabies, that has to be it,” she agreed. At the mention of Animal Control, she added, “Oh, that’s a good idea. Family friend of mine actually works for them. I’ll shoot him a text.” She could practically hear the lecture from Kaden coming about summoning demon cats by accident, but it was almost amusing. He liked to act all tough and like she was just a werewolf and then warned her to be careful. She didn’t want Blanche coming home to all those weird cats. She was surprised at the invite but smiled and nodded her head. “Yeah, that’d be nice actually. At least until the coast is clear and all, I don’t want to like impose or anything.” She followed Grace up to her apartment still a bit weary of the cats, but there was little she could do now. They weren’t following at least, so she relaxed a little. “I’ll definitely bring something delicious by once I’m all moved in. You like venison at all?” 

“Maybe it is,” Grace muttered under her breath. Though, once she said it out loud, she wasn’t sure if she believed it. She pushed the idea that it could be anything else from her mind. She smiled at Ariana at the idea that animal control could help them. She wondered how small the department was, but didn’t bother asking any questions. She didn’t know Kaden well, only that he was afraid of mimes and that he was dating Regan, which was still odd to Grace. “You won’t be imposing, don’t worry.” Grace fished her keys out of her front pocket. “I live on the fourth floor, it’s a bit of a trek, I hope that’s okay? I don’t like taking elevators.” She looked over her shoulder at Ariana before making the climb to her apartment. She unlocked the door and pushed it open. She had great timing in getting the window replaced, that was for sure. She took her shoes off before dropping the keys onto the table. Her studio was small, but with the two of them barely stacking up to amount to anything, they didn’t take up much room. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Grace opened her instant pot and stood on her tippy toes to peer in at the soup. “It’s almost done!” She looked over her shoulder with a smile, “I’ve never actually had it,” she admitted. “Is it anything like beef?” She didn’t think it was, but she couldn’t be sure. She grabbed two mugs and began to heat up water for the tea she had promised Ariana. Her gaze swept over the apartment, the only thing odd being her one-eyed fish who stared at the two of them, unmoving. “What kind of tea do you want?” She asked as she rifled through her cabinets. 

It dawned on Ariana that Grace didn’t seem entirely convinced by her own explanation of what was wrong with the cats. First meeting probably wasn’t the time to push on that though. She’d rather not be labelled the crazy neighbor before she even moved into the building. She opted to not push it any further. Instead, she offered a warm smile and said, “Good. It’ll be nice to get to know each other a little better anyway. I’ve never lived alone before, so having some neighbors who are friends sound nice.” At the mention of a trek, Ariana shrugged lightly and assured, “I do a lot of hiking and running. I don’t mind stairs. Elevators aren’t my favorite either, but I very generally don’t enjoy feeling confined.” She looked around the studio and noted it was pretty cozy. The smell of soup was very welcoming and made her stomach rumble slightly. She hadn’t even realized how hungry she was. “Mmm, it smells so good! I can’t wait to try it.” She took a seat at the small table near Grace’s kitchenette and asked, “Do you do a lot of cooking?” At her question, she responded, “Kind of? I like it a little better. It’s a bit of a sweeter meat though it can be pretty gamey if you don’t season it properly.” Not that she minded gamey, especially not in wolf form. Hell, not even in person form did she truly mind. “Next time I make venison stew or something, I’ll bring some by for you,” she added with a wide smile now mostly forgetting about the cats. “Oh, I’ll take Chai if you have it. I like black and green teas, too. I’m not like super picky or anything.” 

“Living alone is nice,” Grace nodded as if to amplify her words. She liked living alone, it meant that there wouldn’t be anybody else that interfered with the way she was feeling that day. Not to mention, it made figuring out how she was really feeling that much easier. “I don’t like being in small spaces either, but you wouldn’t know that given I work at the morgue.” “I don’t really cook, but I got reprimanded for continuing to eat mac ‘n cheese out of the microwave, so I got that..” She pointed to the instant pot in the corner, “and I’ve been making some soups that my Grandma used to make me.” She smiled fondly at the thought. “I’d love to try it, but no pressure.” She smiled at Ariana before she turned back towards the cabinets.  She grabbed the small canister of oolong from the back of the shelf and two biodegradable sachets. She filled them and dunked them into the mugs before she filled the kettle with water. Putting it onto the burner, she turned the heat on before leaning against the counter adjacent to it. “I have a really good oolong I brought from Portland, it’s my favorite.” It had been from her favorite tea shop, and she wondered if she’d have to go back in order to get a refill. She grabbed two bowls after grabbing a spoon. Grace held it tightly in her hand as she ladeled out the contents. She set one of the bowls in front of Ariana, and the other at her seat. “It has ginger and lemongrass in it, I hope that’s okay.” She waited by the stovetop for the water to finish boiling before taking it off. She filled the mugs and mimicked her actions by setting the cup down in front of her new friend. “There’s sugar in that little thing there,” she pointed at the elephant, “and if you want creamer, I have oat milk?” She smiled at Ariana as she picked up her spoon and stirred the soup around. 

The idea of living alone had never really appealed to Ariana. Maybe it was a werewolf pack mentality sort of thing or maybe it was because she never thought she’d have to live without Celeste. There was a hint of sadness to her tone as she agreed, “I’m sure it is.” At the mention of working at the morgue, she wondered if Grace knew Kaden’s girlfriend. She probably had to though given the fact Regan had wanted to find her sister’s body when there was none to find, it was probably better to not mention it. “The morgue, huh? That’s pretty cool. I guess that would be considered a small space.” The idea of being around all those bodies definitely wasn’t appealing to her. At the mention of microwave macaroni and cheese she shook her head. That was not how macaroni and cheese was supposed to be cooked. “Thank goodness for the instant pot then! Microwavable macaroni and cheese is… not great,” she responded with a laugh, “Soup is much better. Plus, family recipes sound fun.” She had plenty of things Celeste had shown her how to make though she had to admit, those things were harder for her to make now. She hadn’t even made waffles since Celeste died though maybe she could get back in the routine of it. Honor their tradition even though it was still bittersweet. As Grace made tea, the gentle scent of ginger and lemongrass reached her nose. She let out a content sigh. “It smells good and I love lemongrass. If it’s your favorite, I’m sure it’s great. Plus, I love Portland.” There was a soft smile on her face as she settled into her seat as Grace made tea. This was nice and brought a certain sense of comfort. It seemed they would be fast friends, weird cat incident aside and she looked forward to being neighbors. “Oat milk sounds perfect,” she said as she poured some in her mug and took a sniff before taking a small sip. “Mm,” she started, “ This is perfect. Thank you again for letting me wait out the whole cat thing here. I think we’ll definitely be doing this more in the future.”