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oneforthemunny · 5 months

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break the ice |hockey!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: a scheduling mishap leads you and eddie to meet. or how you and hockey!eddie's story begins lol.

contains: eddie au. fluff. that's it. happy one year!

The hiss of the puck gliding over the ice, skittering into the goal, skates whizzing to a stop. It was comforting to Eddie. He’d never really known what people meant when they’d say “get in the zone” growing up, until he started playing again, playing for real this time. It was easy to focus on the sounds, silence your brain by tricking it to listen to the claps of the stick on the ice, the pop of the puck soaring, the-

“Skidamarink a dink, a dink. Skidamarink a doo.”

A clean miss, startled by the sudden blaring of music from behind him. Skates wobbling, knees locking into place. Eddie turned, squinting towards the other end of the rink.

“Hey, hey!” Eddie skated, shouting over the music- horrendous at that, what was this song?

“Excuse me,” You looked up, adjusting the volume on your boom box. “Hey, uh, sorry this is a closed practice.” Eddie skated to you, hockey stick waving exaggeratedly behind him.

“Yeah it is.” You nodded, head tilting to the side slightly. “Are you… here to drop off?”

“What? No, no, I-” Eddie paused, brows furrowed at you lightly. “I- this is my practice.”

“Your practice?” You repeated, pointing at the ice below you.

“Yeah.”

“You’re here for the Snowflakes?”

“No, I play for-” Eddie shakes his head, hand running over his face. “Snowflakes? What-”

“-The three to four year old class?” You press, brow raised, face contorted in what Eddie could only assume was your best judgment masking, though by the scrunch in your nose, it wasn’t working very well. “For ice skating lessons?”

“Lessons? Sweetheart, c’mon, does it look like I need lessons?” Eddie grins, smug and sweet. His heart skips when you bite back a smile, lips twitching. “I’m- I rent out the time to practice.”

“Oh,” You frown slightly. “I, uh, I did too.”

“You know what, let me- let me just go ask Max.” Eddie flashes you a dazzling smile. “I’ll get it sorted out.”

“You’re both right.” Max droned behind the desk, flipping through a magazine lazily. “Both of you have the slot for today.”

“What? Why-Why would Bobby book up both spots?” Eddie frowned. “That makes no fuckin’ sense. I’m here every Thursday-”

Max huffed, snatching the scheduling paper off the back wall, slapping it on the desk. “Eddie Munson. Five to six-thirty. Left.” Her blue eyes raised in boredom. “That means, you’re on the left side.”

“Left? This is- That’s fuckin’ ridiculous, Max, c’mon-”

“-It’s Bobby.” Max rolled her eyes. “He’s trying to double book, make more money during the dead season. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“So I have to practice with a bunch of fuckin’ kids running around?” Eddie huffs. “How the hell am I gonna do that? Huh? Do you hear the shit they’re playing in there?” Eddie throws a hand out towards the rink. “I’m already about to lose my mind.”

“So get some ear plugs, Eddie, I don’t know.” Max huffed, throwing her hands up. “You know I can’t refund you, so either leave, or suck it up. I honestly don’t care, Munson, up to you.”

Eddie’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek, rolling furiously. Bunch of kids skating all around him, screaming and shit, he’d never get anything done.

Still, Eddie’s eyes wandered back to you. In your matching tracksuit, a powdery blue that seemed to shine even under the fluorescents of the rink. He supposed there could be worse people to share the ice with. He faced Tommy Raider again next season, and he’d rather be with a bunch of screaming toddlers anyday over him anyday.

Besides, the kids weren’t so bad. The occasional screech or laughter when you’d have them do something silly. It was cute, honestly, Eddie decided, seeing these little kids wobble around on skates while you cooed enthusiastically at them.

“Ok, my little flurries,” You grinned, cheeks aching from the amount of feigned enthusiasm you had to muster. “Next week we’re going to really work on our glide.” You pushed off dramatically, soaring a few spaces then stopping.

It was so exaggerated, over the top and made the kids giggle; Eddie was sure he was in love.

“So be sure to be practicing holding your arms way, way out!” You extended your arms, beaming at the few who mimicked you. “And I’ll see you all next week!”

Eddie had spent the majority of the time practicing what he’d say to you, how he’d ask you out. A classic chat up line always worked at the bar, always helped him score. Still, his knees wobbled, tight and a little unsure as he skated over to you.

You were waving goodbye to a student, stepping off to the bleachers to undo your own skates. “Hey,” Eddie’s voice cracked, wobbly and unsure in his throat, teeth clenching in a grimace.

You looked up, a tiny half smile in greeting. “Hi. Hope we didn’t bother you too much.”

“What? No. No, no, no. No, you didn’t-” Eddie took a breath, heart hammering in his chest, ringing in his ears. “It was… Yeah, that was really fun to watch actually. The, uh, seeing the kids in their skates and shit. You’re-You’re really good with them, and, uh…” The fuck is that Munson? The fuck are you doing? Eddie’s mind raced, furiously.

“Thanks.” You grinned, a wicked little smile that had Eddie’s cheeks flushing. He hadn’t felt like this in years. Felt like he was back in middle school, swooning any time Connie Donohue would swish her hair over her shoulder, letting it land on his desk and brush his hand.

“They’re a fun age. Super sweet. Not like the asshole eight year olds.” Your finger curled under the untied laces, shimmying them loose.

“Oh? Eight year olds, they're the asshole group?” Eddie grinned, leaning against the rink’s surface. He hoped you couldn’t tell how he was flexing, muscles protruding under the tight, black material of his shirt.

“Total assholes. I had them last year, and that’s why I switched-”

“-Excuse me?” A tiny squeak of a voice came from behind you. You turned, expecting one of your kids who had forgotten a mitten or jacket.

“Are-Are you Eddie Munson?” The small boy with wide eyes gaped at Eddie.

Eddie flushed, swallowing, eyes flickering to you. Your brows creasing, looking at the tiny boy then back at Eddie. “Yeah, yeah that’s me.” Eddie forced a smile, gripping the rink as he stepped onto the bleachers, settling on the ones across from you.

“What’s your name, little man?” Eddie grinned.

“Samuel.” The boy grinned, a little shyly.

“Samuel, that’s a cool name. How old are you?”

“Eight.” The boy beamed.

Eddie’s eyes cut over to yours, lips twisting, fighting back a grin. You blushed, turning away from his glances, cheeks burning with heat you hoped he didn’t see. “Eight? That’s a… that’s a cool age, right?”

“Right.” Samuel nodded. “I-I watch you all the time with my dad and my mom.” Samuel babbled in true kid fashion. “You’re my favorite hockey player.”

“Me? No way, c’mon.” Eddie shook his head playfully.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re from Hawkins too.” Samuel nodded, matter of factly. “They said that on-on the TV one time when I was watching.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Eddie nodded. “Used to practice here when I was your age.” He nodded over towards the rink behind him.

“We went one time to a game, and… and you lost a tooth!” Samuel giggled in true, eight year old asshole form. “The other guy knocked it out when-when you were fighting!”

Eddie laughed, a howling of a cackle that bounced off the walls of the rink, over the hum of the electricity and heat in the stands.

You watched carefully, interest piqued. You knew he was good, you’d watched him practice, it was obvious he had skill. And the name did sound familiar, plastered across headlines and the local news, one of Hawkins’ very own made it big.

Eddie signed Samuel’s jersey, left him scampering back to his awaiting parents with a triumphant grin. “What are the odds of that?” Eddie beamed, grinning ear to ear when he looked over at you.

You laughed, knotting your own skates together, reaching for your snow boots. “I, uh, I didn’t realize you-you played for the… Played hockey.”

“Yeah,” Eddie shrugged, inked hand running down his arm. You tried not to stare. “It’s alright, really. Not bad benefits, but work hours are a little crazy.”

“Yeah?” You laughed lightly. “I would say so. Pretty demanding.”

“Oh yeah. And you lose a tooth or two sometimes.” Eddie’s eyes cut to yours playfully, a dimpled grin that had your heart shooting with heat.

“Yikes.” You sucked in a breath dramatically. “That seems brutal.”

“You ever been?” Eddie asked, untying his own skates, letting the blade rest on the cement barrier in front of him.

“To… what? A game?”

“Yeah.”

“No.” You shook your head. “Not, like, a real hockey game. Not… Not one of yours.” Your knee bounced nervously, a little unsure even in your own answer.

“You should come.” Eddie shrugged cooly, hoping you couldn’t see the way his hands shook with adrenaline. “Come to the opener in a few weeks. I’ll get you tickets.”

“What?” You laughed lightly. “You- No, you don’t even know my name, and you’re gonna get me tickets? Yeah, right.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“Well, I was hoping I could get your name, maybe your number too.” Eddie’s lips pursed lightly. “Get to know you before the game. Can give you those tickets next time I see you. What do you think? You free Friday night? Saturday?”

You blushed, looking down at your boots, fiddling with the laces to avoid his gaze. “Saturday. I don’t have to work.” You looked back at him.

“Saturday it is.” Eddie beamed.

You scrawled your name and number on the torn corner piece of the schedule. Eddie had snatched it and a pen from behind the desk, ignoring Max’s huffs of annoyance. He’d clutched it the whole way home, paper a little soft from the dampness of his sweaty hands. The tiny slip of paper was taped to his landline, staying there long after Eddie had memorized the number. In your pretty, loopy handwriting for Eddie to see each time he called you.

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naturesapphic · 21 days

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I’d love an angst/comfort filled Olivia Benson x reader if you’re willing!

Olivia pulls reader into her office after noticing she’s been a little off, distant and disengaged with the rest of the squad. Reader reluctantly opens up on an incident from a couple of days prior, at a school reunion. (Incident being someone made unwanted advancement at reader, groping her and making her touch them.) She tells Olivia nothing more happened because she finally broke free and left. She starts crying from all the overwhelming emotions and Olivia reminds her she did nothing wrong and is there for her.

High School Reunion

Olivia benson x fem!reader

Warnings: groping, little bit of SA, Olivia being a protective sweetheart

Olivia knows you. Too well to be exact. You are her best detective and her partner. She knows you inside and out and knows that something isn’t right. You’ve been distant and quiet from everyone, especially her. She wants to give you your space but ever since you’ve been back from your high school reunion it’s been like you’ve completely changed into a different person. “Y/n? Can you come inside my office for a second please?” She called out for you.

You slowly got up from your desk and walked over to her. She gave you a loving look and helped you inside as she shut the door. She motioned for you to sit on the couch and she followed behind, sitting close to you but not too close since she wants to give you some space. “What’s been going on? You’ve been distracted and barley been focusing. You know you can tell me anything.” She gently asked you and your eyes fill up with tears. You didn’t mean for all this to happen. You were trying to stay normal about it but of course your boss/girlfriend would know something was up.

She’s a captain and before that she was a detective! You couldn’t hide anything from her. Olivia noticed how your eyes filled up with tears and she felt her heart drop. She didn’t understand what happened but she was going to figure out soon. “You know you can tell me anything y/n/n…” she said as she gently grabs your hands in hers and gives you a reassuring look. You take a deep breath in and you start to tell her what happened.

~ flashback ~

Today you were going to your high school reunion. You let liv know about where you were going as she let you get off work since there was no new cases to worry about. You were a bit hesitant to go without her but you knew she had a bunch of paperwork to do so hopefully in the next one she could make it.

Walking into your old high school felt so weird. You couldn’t believe ten years has past by so quickly but at the same time you could. You saw some of your old classmates and friends and went over to them to mingle. After awhile you felt a presence staring at you from afar. You turned around and saw that a boy from your school was eyeing you up and down.

You knew that years ago that he had a big crush on you but he never made any attempts to do anything about it but honestly you were glad he didn’t. You always got a bad feeling from him and you still do now. Feeling uncomfortable, you tell your friends you are going to head to the bathroom right quick. You head inside the ladies room and splash some water on your face.

You hear the bathroom door open and assume it’s one of your friends checking on you but it’s the boy from earlier. You felt your whole body freeze up as he comes closer. You can see him talking but you don’t hear anything besides the beating of your own heart thumping in your ears. He comes up behind you and starts groping your everywhere and make unwanted advances and movements towards you.

You felt so disgusted but yet your body still wouldn’t let you move. You felt his hand grab yours and you look down to where he was going and your eyes widen. You snatched your hand away and turn around to slam your foot against his balls. He screams out and falls to his knees, grabbing his area while you flee out of the bathroom.

You didn’t tell your friends or teachers goodbye as you run out of there as fast as you could. What would the squad think of you? What would Olivia think? Will she leave you? You couldn’t think straight as you ran towards your car and drive home.

~ flashback over ~

“Nothing more happened before I broke free, but that’s what happened…I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner!” You say as you start crying hysterically. Olivia pulls you into her strong comforting arms and holds you close. “Hey hey shhhh…you did nothing wrong babygirl…I’m so proud of you.” Olivia whispers against your ear. “You have nothing to be ashamed about princess…” she spoke again and you nod against her as your cries turn into little sniffles.

You raise your head up and look into her eyes. She flashes you a small but reassuring smile that everything will be alright. Finn opens the door and his eyes widens at the scene of your red teary face and the look of anger in Olivia’s eyes. “Everything alright?” Finn asks as he looks between the two of you. “We’re fine. Just another case we have to do.” Olivia states as she pulls you closer to her side and gives Finn a little nod that he understands and recuperates.

Finn closes the door and Olivia puts her attention and focus back on you. “We are going to find and get this guy I promise my love. No one hurts you and gets away with it.” She says with a hint of sternness in her voice but not directed towards you. Never. You nod and snuggle in closer to her, you knew that y’all have loads of paperwork to do but those will be done later. Right now, Olivia will hold you however long you want. She will always be there for you, every step of the way.

A/n: thank you for this request anon and I hope you like it! And I hope the rest of y’all enjoy it too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all!

#olivia benson x fem!reader #olivia benson x you #olivia benson fluff #oli #olivia benson x reader #olivia benson one shot #olivia benson headcanon #olivia benson #mariska hargitay imagine #mariska hargitay x reader #mariska hargitay #law and order imagine #law and order fic #law and order fanfiction #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #svu fic #svu

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lllivia · 1 year

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I adore you Enid Sinclair.

Enid Sinclair x fem!reader

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°★.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

You were on your way to study in Enid's dorm one Saturday morning a little bit too early out, because you hated the possibility of being late anywhere.

You were about to knock on her door before you heard your name being mentioned from inside.

"Of course she doesn't like me Wednesday! I mean, have you seen her?? Y/N is like the prettiest girl in school she could quite literally pick anyone she wanted! Also I'm pretty sure she sees me as just a friend, I've been giving her signals all of term, like when I've shared my favorite bubblegum with her and took my time brushing my hand against hers, or when I've held her hand and snuggled up to her while watching a horror movie, or like when she said my favorite teddy that I've had since I was five years old was cute so I gave it to her for her birthday! What more can I possibly do?" You heard Enid's muffled voice coming from the room, she sounded frustrated.

"This is sickening to look at Enid, your fawning and giggling at everything she does is making me nauseous and not in a good way. Just tell her that you have feelings for her and get over it" Wednesday said in her monotone voice, tho she sounded the slightest bit annoyed. You leaned in closer to the door and heard some tapping. "Even Thing agrees that you have to act on your feelings" you heard Enid groan frustrated and heard her most likely fall back onto her bed.

You were honestly really shocked, you had liked her since your first year at Nevermore Academy but never had the courage to say anything. How could someone not like her and her bubbly and sociable personality. She was the prettiest girl you had ever laid eyes on, her multicolored hair, her painted nails, her smile, the cherry vanilla chapstick you always wandered what tasted like on her lips, and her blue eyes that never failed to make your bad mood change.

So, you decided to finally knock on the door seeing that it was actually time for you to study now. You heard some shuffling before Enid yelled "Come in!"

As soon as you went in Wednesday walked passed you out the door, with Thing sitting on her shoulder. Enid squealed and ran up to give you a hug "Hi Y/N! I missed you so much" "we facetimed for five hours last night Enid" you chuckled loving how warm her arms were around you. "Still! So the project, what should we present about" she said smiling brightly at you. "I'm not sure yet, actually I was thinking maybe you could paint my nails first?" You said wanting to spend as much time with her as possible before sitting down on the edge of her colorful plushy filled bed on her side of the room. "Of course, what colors do you want" she said pulling out all her nail polish from under her desk and putting her desk chair so she was facing you, blushing slightly as she found you already staring at her with a soft smile. "Hmmm OOO we should match!" You answered moving closer so she had better access to your hands. About five minutes in painting your nails where you both just sat in comfortable silence, which was pretty unusual for Enid, seeing that she always had someone to gossip about, you decided to speak up. "I heard what you were talking about to Wednesday earlier" You said blushing. Enid looked up from painting you pinky looking absolutely horrified. "WHAT, how much did you hear? Oh I'm so so sorry I totally understand if you don't want to friends anymore, or even speak to me, I shouldn't have caught feelings for you, you probably don't even like girls, I just couldn't help myself- " Enid's distraught rant came to an end when she saw how close you had moved. You layed your hand on the back of her neck and looked down at her lips and then up at her eyes again and all Enid could do was nod slightly, her whole face a bright pink color, and she looked like she was going to explode of happiness. You leaned in, and finally your lips touched in a passionate and loving kiss. After a few seconds you pulled away slightly out of breath and leaned your forehead against hers. Enid still smiling like she couldn't believe what just happened.

"I adore you Enid Sinclair."

💗 Masterlist 💗

This might be a little bit corny but 💀🤷‍♀

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mayajadewrites · 6 months

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Levi Ackerman x Reader: Almost

Chapter Six: Coffee Ice Cream

Chapter Summary: We start off in Levi's POV, getting more insight on him and what he's thinking. He invites you over for TV and some ice cream. Nothing more. *tehe*

Fanfic Preface: Modern AU Levi Ackerman x Reader fanfic I’ve been dying to write! Levi is my latest hyper fixation so this was bound to happen. There will be other AOT characters in the mix, but remember this is a modern AU!

WARNING: SMUT AHEAD

ao3 link

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕ LEVI ☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

It's been a few days since our little incident. I didn't want to come off as obsessive, which I may or may not be, but I knew if I wanted this to last and bloom I needed to give her space to continue to be her own person.

"Mr. Ackerman, I've meal prepped for you for the next week and there's a load of laundry going." My housekeeper, Daisy, says as she fixes her apron. "Is there anything else you need me to do?"

"No, thanks Daisy." I nod for her to dismiss as I walk through my mansion.

Honestly, I'm not sure why I have a housekeeper. No one cleans like I do. I guess I keep her around for the cooking since I'm shit at that. Cleaning has always relieved my stress and makes me forget where I am in the world.

I didn't start off as a millionaire, almost billionaire. I started at the very bottom, with my mother.

We used to live in homeless shelters and sometimes strangers couches, until she fell ill because of our living circumstances. I watched my mother wither away in front of me, like a rose.

"Levi, promise me you will be something." I remember she said to me as she was taking her last few breaths. "Mommy will always watch over you."

Then she was gone.

Social services picked me up after that and I went to live with my aunt and uncle. They lived comfortably in middle class with no kids - lucky me.

I'd like to think mom would be happy with how far I've come.

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

"Levi, your new assistant starts today. Don't run her off, please." Hange gives a pleading look. "She's nice."

"Nice and competent are two separate things." I continue to jot down notes from a contract I'm reading.

"Levi, this is Juliet. Your assistant." Hange walked into my office with, who I'm assuming is Juliet. She's young, with long blonde hair and brown eyes. Conventionally attractive.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Ackerman. What do you need me to do first? Do you want me to get you coffee?"

"I don't drink coffee. I drink tea. And I get that myself." I look up from my desk. "Hange, have her go over my schedule for meetings next week and make sure everything is in order."

"Sure thing boss." Hange left with Juliet, closing my door gently behind them. I have a therapy appointment today, thankfully it's virtual. I open my laptop and sign into the portal to initiate the meeting.

"Levi! You look good!" My therapist, Maria, smiles.

"Thank you. The camera probably smooths out my skin."

"So, tell me about your week. What are you feeling, what's going on, all that jazz."

"I punched a guy in the face last week."

"Levi! What did we talk about with your anger?"

"I did think it over. I thought before I punched, and after. I don't regret it."

Maria shook her head, bringing her glasses to the bridge of her nose. "Ay dios mio, you make my job so hard sometimes."

"That's why you get paid the big bucks, right?" I let out a rare chuckle.

"Why did you do that?"

Because he was touching whats mine.

"I thought he was going to take advantage of someone."

"Who's this someone?"

"I don't want to tell you about her yet. Then that means its serious."

"You punched a man because of her, that's not serious enough?"

"No. It's not. I'm 30 years old, Maria. I've never had a real relationship so I'm navigating it the only way I know how."

"Levi, she is not your mother. You can't treat her like she is a fragile human being. She has feelings, like you, and she is her own person. Does she want to be serious?"

"I'm not sure. We're ... dating? I guess that's different from being in a relationship."

"Ah, taking things slow. I see. Well, tell me about her."

"She works at my favorite coffee shop that I go to every day before work. Except I get tea. Anyways, I've seen her almost every day for 6 months and I've had long and short conversations with her. Only recently have we started seeing each other."

"And what are you scared of?" Maria's question stumped me.

I'm scared of everything.

I'm scared of losing her. I'm scared of losing what I have. I'm scared of starting a family only to have it ripped from me.

"Levi?" Maria snapped me out of my thoughts.

"I'm scared of, a lot. My feelings scare me. I feel, protective over her. I feel like I want to savor every moment we're together. I'm also scared she's going to run off once she truly sees my life."

I'm rich, like, filthy rich. She works hard for her money, lives alone, and has dreams of opening her own coffee shop. Which I can help with.

She's used to doing everything for herself. She doesn't have a housekeeper, a chef, none of that. She cooks, cleans, and does everything herself.

Everything I want in a woman is in her.

"You can't go around anticipating people leaving." Maria tapped her pen on her notebook. "You know what I say, everything happens for a reason. There's a reason you connected with her and there's a reason you feel the way you do about her. I don't think it would hurt to explore those feelings more."

After your therapy session, I decide I'm inviting her over for the first time. I want her to see how I am, in my house, and I want to observe how she is.

Me: Are you busy tonight?

Her: If by busy you mean I have a date with a pint of coffee ice cream and Grey's Anatomy, then yes.

Me: Would you like to do that here?

Her: Here is where?

She's gonna make me work for this.

Me: Here as in my house. I'll pick you up at 7.

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕ BRATTY BARISTA ☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

After getting ready for Levi's, you take a look at yourself in the mirror. Your outfit consists of leggings, crew socks, sneakers, a low cut tank top and a zip up hoodie. You can't lie, part of you wants Levi to continue what he started at your place last week. The other part of you is scared shitless to go to his mansion.

At 7 PM sharp, you hear tires roll in front of your place. By the time you lock your doors, Levi is waiting outside the passenger door for you. He kisses your cheek before letting you in the car, scanning your body.

You study the drive from your place to his - about 20 minutes. Levi lives in a rich, residential area with plenty of land to spare.

Walking into his home, it's spotless. Like, actually spotless. No dust anywhere, nothing is out of place, even the remotes on his coffee table.

"I bought some coffee ice cream and I have Netflix set up for that show already - Grey's what?"

"Grey's Anatomy. You're watching it with me?"

"I was serious when I asked you if you wanted to do that here. Can we start from the 1st episode?" Levi grabbed 2 spoons and the pint of ice cream.

"Sure." You walk over to the couch, which looks like a cloud, and sink your body into it. So this is what it's like to have money.

Levi pressed play, opening the pint. He plunged his spoon into the ice cream as neatly as he could, bringing it to your lips.

You open your mouth slowly, letting him insert the spoon into your mouth. You stare at his eyes as you lick the spoon, getting lost in the clouds that live in his eyes. He pulled the spoon out of your mouth, taking a scoop for himself.

Levi had coffee ice cream residue on his bottom lip, which he quickly licked away. You stared at his chiseled jawline as he watched the show, his eyes moving back and forth with the scenes.

Eventually Levi put the ice cream away, knowing we would eat it again later. As he sat down next to you again, you couldn't help but notice a bulge in his pants.

We meet again.

Levi put his arm around the back of the couch, leaning back so his chest was stretched out. You could see his collarbone peeking out of his shirt, along with his sculpted muscles.

"You're not even watching, brat." Levi interrupted your daydream.

"I'm watching something else." You turn your body toward him. "It's much more interesting."

"What do you mean? I think it's ok so far -" Levi directs his attention back on the tv, getting lost in the plot.

You took advantage of this moment and unzipped your hoodie a bit, exposing your cleavage. He didn't seem to notice, but he will soon.

You slide into him, making sure he can feel your body against his. He looks down at you through his jet black locks, seemingly by surprise.

"What-"

"Shhhh." You press your finger to his lips, pulling your leg over his lap so you're straddling him. "You can't talk until I'm done. I mean it. Not a word." When did you suddenly get bold?

Levi's erection was more prominent now, pulsing against your thigh. You trail kisses down his face, neck, chest, and eventually you snake down to your knees, in front of his belt buckle.

You look up at Levi, who's mouth is open like he wants to say something.

"Remember the rules, Mr. Ackerman." You wiggle your finger, unbuckling his belt. "Not a word until I'm done."

His belt slid off with ease, as you pulled his slacks down to his ankles. His dick print through his boxer briefs startled you, but you're not gonna stop now. You spread his legs, pushing yourself in between them.

You drag your fingertips down his stomach to his pelvic region, tracing the 'V' line gently. You glanced to look at Levi, who's eyes were dead set on you.

His underwear came off, and his dick slapped his abs. Your eyes grew wide from his size, knowing you might have bit off more than you can chew.

You take one hand and start pumping his dick slowly, brushing your thumb over the tip. Pre-cum leaked from the slit, motivating you to pump harder.

You take some of the pre-cum from your finger and slid it into your mouth with a 'pop' sound. Levi groans, letting his head fall back.

You bring your lips to his tip, sucking it gently while pumping his shaft. You could not take all of him in yet, but you will. Your other hand starts massaging his balls, which hitched his breath. Your tongue caressed every vein in his dick, paying special attention to the tip.

Levi finally put one of his hands in your hair, directing you on his dick. You took more and more of him in, eventually hitting your gang reflex, but you didn't care. The look on Levi's face is worth it. He whimpers as your tongue cascades along his length, the sounds alone causing him to almost overstimulate.

Levi moaned your name before you felt his dick start pulsating in your mouth and his hand pulled your hair roughly. "Where do you want me to cum?" Levi said with short breaths.

"In my mouth."

It was less of a mess that way.

That must have sent Levi over the edge. He unleashed his load in your mouth, holding your hair tightly.

You snake your body up to his face and smile, swallowing his load.

"Fuck." Levi caught his breath, kissing your lips gently. "My turn." Levi pulled you onto the couch, laying you down horizontally. "But you can be as loud as you want."

Levi slid your leggings off, revealing your hot pink thong. He played with the straps before sliding them down your legs, kissing your thighs as he passed by.

Your core was drenched at this point from sucking his dick alone, and seeing him at your pussy sent you to another planet.

He slid two fingers in without warning, pulled them out, and sucked them while keeping his eyes on yours. "What a good girl. So wet for me." Levi started pumping his fingers, curling at your clit.

"Levi.." You moan his name, curling your toes. Levi presses his hand on your stomach, sitting his face in-between your thighs. His lips touched your pussy, sending electricity up and down your body.

The entire time, his eyes are on you. Watching every face you make, listening to every moan. Levi ate pussy like it was his last meal. His tongue and fingers invaded you and made it their home instead. Your walls started to pulsate as his tongue went in and out of you, devouring every last drop.

"So beautiful." Levi mumbled against you, curling his fingers one last time before the world went away around you. The feeling is euphoric. A man hasn't made you feel like this, ever. You've pleasured yourself enough to give yourself an orgasm, but this is different.

"Levi." You moan loudly, gripping his hair, riding out your high. You could not focus on one thing - there were no thoughts in your head. Levi ate you through your high until your legs were shaking uncontrollably.

Making his way to your lips, Levi kissed you gently, the sheen of your arousal all over his mouth.

"I wish I could savor this taste forever." He groaned, putting his hand behind your neck and pressing you into him gently.

His lips moved with purpose, making sure every inch is taken care of. Your lips are plump from all the arousal, your heart feels like its beating out of your chest.

"Do you still want to watch Grey's Anatomy?"

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman aot #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfic #levi fanfic #levi aot #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfic #levi attack on titan #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #levi x you #levi ackerman x you

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mermaidmoose · 11 months

Text

First Contact: The Laser Incident

In your defense, when you had selected the "laser" option that popped up on the screen of your gauntlet you had expected a laser pointer. One of those green, high powered ones used to help locate stars and planets. The large, smoldering crater that now marred the garish pink wall proved otherwise.

On one hand you were glad your large, flame themed ward had not been around to witness this. He had dumped you onto his desk and traipsed off chattering away in a collection of garbled clicks and electronic noises. But how would he react to this situation? The mech may seem overly friendly but you had never damaged anything before. What kind of punishment could (or would) he inflict on you?

'Maybe he won't notice' an overly-optimistic voice chirps from within your head. It sounded awfully similar to your 10 year old self, and delusional at that. No way anyone could miss a hole that size suddenly materializing in their living space. As if summoned by your thoughts alone, the tell-tale shakes of someone approaching the room manifested. Man, did it feel like your universal luck was terrible. So you did what anyone would naturally do.

You quickly scramble back inside the little "habitat" Rodimus had set up on his desk. As you hid under the various towels that made up your bedding, you felt like a child who had broken something and was about to get a severe scolding. You were only holding off the inevitable, you knew that. All you could do was hunker down in your shame and fear as the loud shwoosh of an opening door sealed your fate.

Rodimus opened his mouth to call out to his little friend and froze at the smell of burning metal. Turning his head slightly to the right his optics widen at the smoldering crater in his wall. He quickly steps over and bends down to get a better look, squinting in confusion. "How the hell ...?" He reaches up and activates his comm link. "Yo Brainstorm! You been making laser weapons again? We talked about this!" "Do you have any idea how little that narrows things down? Most of our weapons are laser based." "Ok but I think one of them somehow blew a hole in my wall? How exactly would that happen?" Rodimus grouses back, picking at the edges of the crater. He was not looking forward to the patch and paint job this would require. "Uh, honestly that doesn't ring any bells. I've been working on these holomatter avatars for the past 24-hours, so no touching any weaponry ... I can feel your judgy, non-believing stare over the comms, but I'm telling the truth." Brainstorm protests.

Rodimus vents out a long, tired sigh. "Fine, I'll let go and presume this isn't related to you. But someway, somehow I now have a blaster hole in my office and I want to figure out who, and how." "Oooh want to make sure our little fleshy friend didn't become fried eh? I can't really see anyone-"

Rodimus jolts up from his position as he sputters out "Okgoodtalkgottagobye" and quickly hangs up on Brainstorm. What if you were hurt? Or Primus forbid dead? He rushes over to his desk and rips the top of your "habitat" off in a panicked frenzy.

You scream and blindly burrow further into the towels, choosing flight over fight. You're a shaking mess as you feel those warm, yellow hands close in and scoop you up, towels and all. You wince as Rodimus peels off the towels with enough force to almost feel bruising. But the worst is when he lifts you up to eye-level, and you can feel him scrutinizing you through your space suit to an almost molecular degree. His expression shifts from panicked to grinning in moments though, and you find yourself suddenly pressed against his chest as the autobot lets out what you can only describe as some kind of "green noise".

As Rodimus hums to comfort both you and himself, he carefully relaxes into his office chair. You're safe, and that matters more than some stupid hole in his wall.

A hole in his wall that's desk height.

...

Wait a minute ...

#transformers #mtmte #rodimus #rodimus prime #first contact au #maccadam

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planefood · 1 year

Note

I had the best sleep of my life in actual years, so to celebrate my mental health slowly healing apparently.

Do robots have specific/special ways to sleep? Or like routines before they go to sleep and/or after waking up, like humans do with brushing their teeth and stuff?

Do some of them need to charge themselves or take off their heads?

Maybe if they have analog TVs or computers for heads they have comfort shows/videos/movies they watch before they sleep? Maybe with somebody like Sonnet they have music?

How do they keep themselves from overheating under blankets and stuff?

Do they dream or have nightmares? One of the questions I came in for was if robots could have screensavers so could screensavers be the equivalent of dreams?

Honestly just anything notable you can add would be really cool.

Tbh ik this is one of my most in-depth questions yet, but again, first good sleep in years. Celebration.

- 🔌

Congrats on the sleep! I have trouble sleepin' too, great question to introduce the lore on the characters tails tho! This'll be a long one again The power plugs you see on my characters is actually apart of how they sleep, like electronics they need to charge, they also need to sort through memories and rest in general like humans which they all do overnight.

They don't need as much sleep as humans do to charge but still enjoy snoozing anyway... Their charging state is their "deep sleep" and anything extra would be like light napping. Most of them sleep on chairs or sofas, they do have beds because they are comfy but they can't sleep on their backs. Characters like Tandy consistently sleep in beds whereas Sierra treats her bed more like a piece of furniture and usually just remembers she needs to charge and passes out at her desk sitting on a chair Robots can die from exhaustion if they don't charge consistently enough and, they need a power source to sleep properly. Robots know how much charge they have in their body, not by any specific number but they just y'know, feel tired. Robots can suddenly run out of charge and pass out but it's rare. Can happen if they're overworked or in a bad mental state tho. On an average day most robots will have about 20 hours worth of charge on them. This'll fluctuate with age of battery or the size of the robot or just how much work they're doing. Their cord tails aren't necessarily the ones they use when they're sleeping. They can take out and swap cords with a compatible "sleeping" cord if their day to day one isn't appropriate. Vic and Darwin's plugs aren't compatible with nz/aus outlets but wear their old ones as a sense of pride almost? Robots that do this can either swap out their day cord for their sleeping cord or just stick an adapter to it. THEY CAN'T TAKE OFF THEIR HEADS THO... Any less than you can rip off the screen of your laptop, not healthy. Newton and Oliver would take out things like papers most of the time but that's the closest thing to it.

but some cords are purely fashion statements, they don't work as sleeping cables at all. It can say a lot about a robot whether or not they wear their sleeping cable day to day, wear a totally different one or just don't wear it at all.

As for routines there isn't a whole lot, Some robots will disinfect themselves before they leave the house with wet wipes. During colder months tho robots have to "warm up" before doing anything which just involves them kinda sitting around. In warmer parts of the year they usually do away with any blankets altogether and sleep with an electric fan on. (or an air conditioner if they're bougie) Because this is set in Aotearoa they can't afford heating either so they just layer clothes and blankets (sob) They have a harder time regulating body temperature and act more like they're cold blooded if anything.

Robots have dreams when they're not charging What kind of dreams they'd be having is highly dependant on their make and model. A robot like Lithium would be having dreams more similar to a regular human where its just sections of totally random shit happening that kinda connect to what was happening to your day. An older robot like Sierra would be similar to an old screensaver yes

so I guess a nightmare would be like?

youtube

as for like, pre sleep routines. I think robots will do stuff like read or watch youtube or something when they start getting low battery and then plug themselves in and conk out, it's nothing too crazy

#ask

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catboii · 6 months

Text

((just a "little" (ha) update I guess, nothing major, just a note that I'm sorry if I post alot this week with seemingly no regard for my/my muse's vast presence on the dash, or if I end up writing alot of short weird drabbles to vent.... if there's questionable stuff it'll be tagged like always <3

I understand if you need to unfollow me to keep your dash clear for other people if you're mobile etc. or if you need to blacklist my muse's url for a bit if it's overwhelming

After xmas everything may have settled and if you wanna refollow then I'd welcome you back and wouldn't ask any questions. your comfort (whatever that may classify as in the context) is my utmost priority!

normally I try not to clutter, and I try to keep general post reblogs minimal and just queue most of them. I'm just... not doing too good rn

then again it's a 50/50 that I'll be posting nothing at all, just making my muse's presence known if it wants to sorta wave at someone from the depths of my brain hell jail.

I'll still be checking in around xmas stuff bc this muse gives me v happy bubbly vibes whenever I write it and that's honestly what I need rn.

I'm sorry if your muse reblogs/replies to one of mine's posts or smth and I seemingly glance over it. I genuinely just didn't see it. I always try and respond to stuff, or if it doesn't know how to reply I at least acknowledge that my muse saw it by liking it. but I might not have the mental capacity to actually keep up w stuff

...

BASICALLY I'm either gonna be kinda quiet or rly hyperfixated on not being in my own head for the next week or so.

I'm obv stressed anyway bc I need to do xmas shopping still and it's a struggle bc online it probs won't come in time. we're going "late night shopping" on thursday though so hopefully we can get a bunch of stuff then

but mainly an old work friend of mine passed away today. He's been unwell for a few years, and I dunno if he knew what it was and was just keeping it quiet, or if they genuinely couldn't work it out. last I heard he was getting MRIs.

I had a complicated relationship w him (positive) bc he was either bipolar or had BPD like me (although he wasn't diagnosed with either, but it was obvious he at least had bipolar), and if you know anything abt BPD you know what an FP (favourite person) is, and we were sort of each other's when we were working together? I think. like I say he wasn't diagnosed, but it felt like that. we hit it off really quick and were both really comfortable with each other, and he was just the sweetest most supportive person. he was one of my FPs, which basically means my brain was cursed to be in intense friendlove with him. He would tell me that he loved me and appreciated my friendship, was always saying you need to tell people you love them, however you can, however you mean it, because you don't know if you'll ever get to tell them again

he always showed off the little things I made him and made sure everyone knew exactly where he got the silly little origami animals on his desk, or who made his juggling balls that were his favourite thing in the whole world bc I made them for him by hand, and picked the fabric out specifically for him.

One time around xmas, bc of covid, we had these big plastic screen dividers between our desks and I used posca paint pens to draw him a HUGE Robin in a scarf and santa hat (his name was Robin and people always got him little Robin themed things, he loved them) on the one by his manager desk, like a name tag, but Facilities told him he needed to clean it off and chastised him thinking he did it, and you're "not supposed to vandalise work equipment" even though they're literally washable and it was xmas. we were sticking decorations everywhere, how is it any different? but he played along but he was really mad. He didn;t wanna say it was me that did it, because he thought I might've gotten in trouble, but he also wanted to argue that I'd put alot of work into it. I hadn't put that much in, it was just for fun and I liked drawing it, and he got to see it! That was the important part. and I said so. but I cleaned it off and drew him a new Robin on a piece of paper and he kept it at his desk like a retired picket sign, and told the story to anyone who would be polite enough to listen

mostly though, he gendered me correctly (and he was in his 60s so being so passionate abt they/them pronouns was just really sweet, though he was clearly bi but still in the closet, so it was maybe a little projection, in a way, or just straight up quiet queer solidarity), and literally agressively made sure everyone else did too, when he realised I'd been just letting people at work use whatever pronouns, he got really proactive and made sure all my paperwork was marked as "them" officially (with my permission). if anyone misgenered me he would get visably annoyed or disgusted, and there were a couple people who "forgot" (every time) and he actually got angry at them about it and reported them for harassment, which might've been a little extreme, but I honestly felt so validated, and I'm tearing up thinking about it. I don't think anyone's ever fought that hard in my corner, especially after only knowing me for, at that point, less than a year.

We worked together in a couple different parts of the business for a couple years, until some stuff happened that I shouldn't say bc I need my rp blog(s) to stay far away from my professional life, but we were gonna be working together doing something else, but it wasn't his thing, it was stressful and there were other reasons, but he just lost it and walked out.

we had a little joke when we were training before he left, he had this soft toy robin that he let me borrow because I was really anxious, and I gave it a little notepad and pencil and wrote something silly on it for when he got it back each time. usually some out of context joke on what we learned that day, so we could both laugh about it. but when he left I still had it, and I messaged him saying I would get it back to him sometime, but he said to keep it to remind me of him.

I put it away to keep it safe, but I'm gonna have to go and find it, because it's one of the only physical things I have left of him.

#ooc post.#.vat file #rl illness ment-#rl death ment-#readmore.#I think I'm ok for now. I'm sorry about the stuff mentioned at the top but I'm not sorry this post is so long. for once.#you don't have to read it. but if you do? then hey. thanks. we're besties now.#I had a little rant about him and it's cathartic but I'm trying not to break down tbh #I think just expressing how much I loved him helps. he was just. so pure and wholesome in reality.#always showing how much he appreciated people...

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 months

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Happy anniversary!

I'm hoping for some advice. I just feel so lost and bored with my life. I'm almost 32. I've had the same job (accountant/payroll specialist for an accounting firm) for almost 10 years. I spend so much of my time just sitting at my desk with no work to do, so I've been watching shows on my phone and coming on this hell-site to pass the time. I feel like life is just so negative and pointless. Everything has some kind of draw-back. I really wish someone could tell me what I'm supposed to be doing in my life. I get bored pretty easily. I need multiple things going at a time. Even watching a tv show, I almost always have my phone, computer or tablet going too, doing something. I've been asking myself the same question for over a decade: what do I want? I still have no freaking clue.

I feel like I'm caught in a circle. I don't have many friends because I don't go out much and when I do go anywhere I feel like I have nothing to contribute to conversations because 90% of my life is watching tv. I've never been on a date. I've been on a couple dating websites, but only ugly (sorry, but it's true) and creepy guys have sent me messages. I don't know. That probably doesn't really tell you anything to give advice on, but I typed it out, so I'll still send it.

Hey there! Fellow single 31 year old here that also works in the finance world! I definitely go through phases my self of why haven’t you accomplished this yet, you should be happier because xyz, etc. This is gonna sound really dumb but getting out of that mindset comes down to two things for me.

First thing is what are my goals? I’m not talking the stereotypical ones of get married, have kids, a house, yada yada. Is there anywhere you want to travel to someday? See a musician in concert? Try a new restaurant? Learn to play an instrument? Bake a cake from scratch? Run a 5K? The big goals are great. But so are the little ones. I have sooo many little goals in life and they give me things to strive for or look forward to a week from now and twenty years from now. Life gets a little bleak when you stop allowing yourself to have those things in mind. The little stuff is something you can work on today and see real results. For me goals give me excitement and sometimes my goal is to binge watch a show over the weekend and there’s nothing wrong with that! And if you feel like watching TV is all you do well you know what? Expand on that! Maybe make that a hobby by trying to do a reaction video on YouTube. Learn how to edit, how to share, etc. That’s just one super simple way of making a new goal from something you already do. Just try to get out of your comfort zone a smidge and good things can happen.

And maybe as you try those little things you’ll find you need more stimulation during the day because a toxic work environment can wreck havoc on your personal life too. Maybe it’s time for a career change even.

The second thing, and this one takes serious effort to change is…

Stop being mean to yourself. You are ONLY 31. You got a loooot of life ahead of you. Life does not happen on a timetable and there is no such thing as being “too late” to do things. Honestly you could be 80 years old and I’d say the same thing. You don’t need a man to make you happy. You can make you happy and if a guy comes along, great, that’s a bonus but you right now are just as valid as every other person out there. People with houses, kids, spouses, the people always bragging about their lives, they don’t have that shit figured out anymore than you or I do. We’re all just going with it. I’m not sure if any of this is helpful or not but I hope maybe something stood out for you! 🧡

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cookierye · 6 months

Text

Adam's room wasn't made for two people. He'd honestly argue it was barely made for one.

Jonah had sat cross legged on his bed, slightly moving back and forth to keep himself busy. Adam had taken a seat on his office chair like a normal person, elbow on the desk as he leaned on his hand.

"Something's bothering youuu."

"Shut up, man."

Jonah ended up with that grin Adam had associated with him getting a bad idea. Or whatever he had taken before coming over to his house hitting. It was one of the two.

"C'mon, tell me your problems. We'll do like, a therapy session."

He let out a snort.

"You're the furthest person from a therapist I've ever known."

"Hey, I've been to a shrink before. I know the fancy terms."

Adam rolled his eyes, his free hand tapping on the back of his chair. Jonah's eyes didn't look away from him, so he let out a defeated sigh.

"How high are you right now?"

Jonah made a 'so and so' motion, shifting to sit on the bed more comfortably. Adam figured that if he was lucky, the other would simply not remember anything he said.

"Okay, sure, fuck it. Weed therapy session."

"Weed therapy session!" Jonah exclaimed, putting his hands up in excitement. He held back the urge to scoff at his behaviour.

"Be quieter, dipshit, the other people in the house will hear you."

"Sorry, sorry."

Jonah faked a professional look, putting his hands together. Adam almost gagged at the reminder the other originally had plans to become a lawyer before his parents' death.

"I've been- having nightmares. Or rather one."

"Same one repeatedly?"

Adam ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah. Same one repeatedly."

Then, quieter.

"I think it's from when I lost my parents."

Jonah's overexaggerated look softened up, and Adam hated how he could see a spark of pity in his eyes.

He didn't need anyone's fucking pity.

"Sounds bad already. No wonder. What happens? Do you see them..." Jonah lingered on his words, unsure what to say that wouldn't hurt.

"No. I don't see either of them." He admitted. "But I know- I know they're supposed to be there. And they're not."

He took Jonah's nod as a sign to continue.

"I remember images here and there from that nightmare every time. I'm alone. It's way too fucking dark. There's like, an empty cradle. I think it's mine."

"Maybe you had just come out of it?"

"I was four when they disappeared." He scoffed. "What kind of four year old still uses a cradle?"

"Fuck man, I don't know. Maybe your brain is trying to fill gaps."

"Same way every time?"

"I'm not a dream expert." Jonah shrugged helplessly.

"Whatever." Adam crossed his arms, part of him already regretting talking.

But a part of him felt better.

Did he want to keep talking about this?

"The therapist I had went to said it was probably a trauma thing. Trying to cope with losing them or whatever. But she was also saying some guardian angel shit about it, so I don't exactly trust her."

Jonah let out a confused snort.

"How does that tie into this?"

Adam took a moment to run his thumb over the lines on the arm of his chair. Unfortunately for him, Jonah waited patiently. Or maybe he was just zoning out.

"There's, uh. Another part of it I remember. But it makes no fucking sense."

"When do dreams ever make sense, man?"

Adam shrugged, hating the idea that the other had a point.

"It's uh. There's someone else in the house. Or multiple people? It doesn't feel like we're alone."

"Shit, like a home intruder?"

Adam took a sharp breath.

"No. Well- if there is one, it's not him. He's in uniform, I think. I can't explain what he looks like, it's like it slips out of my mind, but..."

He lingered on his words.

"I know it's not my dad. He doesn't look anything like him, I've seen pictures. But I also don't know who the fuck it is."

"You said uniform." Jonah added. "We're talking like a cop, or something?"

"Fuck, I don't know. Maybe."

They shared a moment of silence, Adam leaning back on his seat with his eyes closed.

"He's scared."

"Sorry?" Jonah was clearly caught off guard.

"The man. He seems scared every time."

"Scared of what?"

His throat felt dry.

"Of me."

Jonah grimaced. Adam found himself suddenly focused on rubbing his thumb against the lines of his chair once more, unwilling to continue.

Why had that hurt so much to say?

"Well, it is a nightmare."

He simply nodded.

"You uh. Ever looked into it? The whole incident."

"Obviously." He scoffed. "But Mandela's police department has been out of commission since before I turned like, ten. Couldn't really find much."

"That's fucked up."

Adam couldn't do anything but find himself agreeing.

"Yeah. It fucking is."

#tw drug use #cw swearing #hi this is a writing for another tmc au that i haven't really talked about!#i was proud of it so i decided to pop it here too. enjoy #the mandela catalogue #the mandela catalogue au

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secretobsessionstuff · 2 years

Note

Just a little request for a sick Shawn where he comes home feeling nauseous but Mateo made one of his favourite foods for dinner. His boyfriend put so much time and effort into cooking that he tries to eat it but he can't keep it down for very long and he has to run to the bathroom to throw up.

Oh man, I had a blast writing this! I hope you all like it!

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

I hate the tiny humans today, Shawn texted this to Mateo after lunch time—the lunch that he missed because he’d been going over a failed test with a student. The kid came up to his desk with tears in her eyes, wondering what she could possibly do to make it up. She was the one who used the word ‘fail’ but really Shawn had given her a B minus. His humans weren’t so tiny, not like five years old, but they were still prepubescent balls of cringey energy and attitude. Some of them were even balls of anxiety over mediocre grades.

What have the tiny demons done now? Mateo texted back. He was at home, enjoying a day off between shifts. There wasn’t a bone in his body that envied his boyfriend on that fine Friday afternoon.

Everything! He replied. They were so snotty this morning. And my lesson flopped.

The kids had been snotty, both attitude wise and literally he decided, thinking of the crying girl who interrupted his lunch before it could start.

Honestly, Shawn wasn’t too upset about missing his lunch. He hadn’t been hungry for the salad that he packed anyway. His stomach couldn’t seem to find even the lightest of meals appetizing. He blamed this on the hectic morning that had been full of yelling, waiting for silence, more waiting, and more yelling. His throat was raw by time the lunch bell rang.

He probably should have eaten something though because his body felt weak and uncooperative. A headache gripped his temples at ten in the morning and hadn’t let go yet. The pulsing pain still radiated around his skull. He dreaded the next few hours in which he would stand on his feet and yell some more.

He texted Mateo in a string of small messages. Mateo hated when he did that, preferring to write his messages in large paragraphs. In three blue bubbles of text, Shawn wrote:

I’m so tired.

My head hurts

Come kidnap me please

In a typical Mateo fashion, he replied with a paragraph: Drink lots of water to help with the headache. Also, Tylenol! And you better not have skipped lunch again. Then in another blue bubble he wrote: Look for the white van out front. I’ll be there soon with tempting candy and a promise that I know your mom. Maybe I’ll have a creepy mustache.

Shawn smiled at his phone.

He wanted so damn bad to be at home with Mateo just then. They’d curl up on the couch and watch a movie.

Funnily enough this fantasy did not include an unhealthy dose of junk food like it normally would. There was no comforting ice cream or brownies in this picture because Shawn could not bring himself to care about food. His stomach was the real ball of anxiety.

Yep, just anxiety, so he went back to work when the bell rang at the end of lunch.

At home, Mateo was thinking only of food. He thought about the way Shawn constantly skipped lunch to talk to students or go over the upcoming lesson. No doubt his boyfriend would come home ravenous and in need of some comfort. With time and ingredients on his hands, Mateo decided to make one of Shawn’s comfort foods: Shepherd’s pie. The savory meat and fluffy mashed potatoes would fill Shawn right up. He texted one last thing to his exhausted boyfriend:

Shawn’s sore throat begged for water ten minutes into the second half of the day. His feet screamed at him to sit down. The muscles in his back protested every movement.

And his stomach! Oh, his stomach…didn’t do anything ominous. No gurgling. No bubbling. It just kind of held a dull, non-threatening ache, waiting until the time was right to make him nauseous.

That time was not yet.

The day ended on a low note. Shawn had given up trying to teach his rambunctious students and let them work on their upcoming assignments. This meant that they goofed off on their laptops while he pretended to grade tests at his desk. He tried not to fall asleep, but his heavy head kept wanting to rest on the pile of un-graded papers.

Eventually the bell that marked the end of the day pierced his ear drums. It was not a good sound, but it was a welcomed one.

It was during his drive home that his belly decided to send a twinge of nausea to his brain. That nausea grew, and grew, until he practically moaned in pain with every jerk of the car.

You can’t even imagine the intense wave of nausea that crashed into him as he entered his home. The hearty scent of ground beef, rich gravy, and strong onions overwhelmed his nose.

He knew that scent well. Shepherd’s pie.

It was such a comfort meal that the smell was like a warm blanket. That smell should have made his mouth water with hunger and anticipation, but instead it made his mouth water with nausea.

There was a deep casserole dish resting atop the oven. Judging by the steam rising from it, it was fresh from the oven. Melty cheese blanketed the mashed potatoes. The dishware was glass, letting him see the thick layer of meat and peas that was trapped beneath the fluffy cloud of starch.

Shawn smiled sadly, knowing that Mateo had made this for him. It was somewhat of an annoying dish to make because it required making the meat mixture, mashing the potatoes, putting it all together in a casserole, and baking the entire thing until the top layer was golden. With many steps, many ingredients, and many dirty dishes, it wasn’t a meal that either Mateo nor Shawn wanted to make often. It was usually made for a special occasion. Or apparently now it was made for when Shawn had a bad day.

“Look what I made you,” Mateo said excitedly as he came into the kitchen. He greeted Shawn with a peck on the lips. “I didn’t realize that we were out of ground beef, so I went out and bought some.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Shawn said. It was hard to keep his smile from melting off his face. The kitchen was already hot from the cooking, and his layers of clothes suddenly felt suffocating.

Mateo grabbed the bags out of Shawn’s hand as they walked to the bedroom. “I wanted to. I know you had a rough day, so I thought I would cook something for you. Smells great, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm,” Shawn hummed. He practically tore the buttons off his shirt. He couldn’t free himself fast enough.

“Anyway,” Mateo said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “get into comfy clothes, leave this horrible day behind you, and join me at the table. Hurry before it cools down too much.”

Shawn let out a heavy exhale once he was alone in the room. Exchanging his nice pants for sweats was the best feeling he got all day. The tightness around his middle disappeared, but the ache inside his middle did not.

He could cry at the sweet gesture that Mateo did for him. It was perfect—exactly what he would have needed after a bad day. He would have sighed happily after taking the first bite of his meal. The feeling of warmth and safety would have enveloped him as the buttery gravy coated his tongue.

Now he would feel only nausea as he struggled to get even the first bite down.

But of course, he joined his boyfriend at the table. Mateo gave him a very large portion. Even more steam escaped into the air. The hazy steam and dim yellow lights in the kitchen made Shawn feel woozy. Peas and carrots tumbled out of the chunk he’d been given. He felt like tumbling as well.

“I really hope it’s alright,” Mateo said. “It won’t be exactly like you had growing up, but I tried.”

Damn you adorable boy, Shawn thought. There was no way he could get away with eating only a little bit.

Mateo watched him take the first bite.

Truthfully, there was nothing wrong with the first bite. It tasted great, homey and soft, and it’s not like Shawn’s stomach rebelled immediately. Mateo seemed to relax and enjoy their dinner together once Shawn told him that the dish was great.

Shawn managed to eat a fair amount before his stomach began to whine. He kept on trudging through the meal. If he were feeling better, Shawn would have meticulously ensured that every forkful contained meat, veggies, and potatoes, because that was the only right way to eat Shepherd’s pie.

The current Shawn—the one who felt like a spinning top or an overfull balloon—did not eat the right way. He simply scooped up whatever was left on the plate and prayed that it stayed in his belly.

Finally. Finally! The plate was clean. There were only two stubborn peas left behind that Shawn was too lazy to chase after. And anyway, those two peas might have been the thing that upset the fragile peace in his belly. For now, everything was staying put.

It did not feel good by any means. Shawn exhaled deeply and rubbed his middle. The pressure in his belly was too much to ignore, but he hoped he was doing a good enough job at hiding his discomfort.

“That was delicious,” Mateo said, slouching back in his chair. “There’s also ice cream for dessert if you want.”

Shawn’s eyes went wide as he burped into his fist. “Ugh no I’m good,” he said, his voice deep from the belch that filled his throat. He swallowed thickly. “I’m very full but thank you.”

“Sure, maybe later.” Mateo grabbed their plates and took them to the sink. He started the long process of washing the dishes.

Shawn stayed at the table, afraid to stand up. He watched Mateo move around the kitchen. The boy pushed his sleeves past his elbows so they wouldn't get wet doing the dishes.

It was a nice scene—his boyfriend doing the most domestic of tasks—but Shawn couldn’t appreciate any of it. He wanted to thank Mateo for making the elaborate meal. He wanted to kiss him on the back of his neck while the two of them cleaned up.

But his upset belly had other ideas. It gurgled loudly, struggling to digest the heavy meal. Shawn burped again. It was wet and made his belly do a flip. He couldn’t stop a groan from escaping as well. He excused himself as a blush rose to his cheeks.

Mateo chuckled and craned to look at Shawn out of the corner of his eye. “You weren’t kidding about being full.”

Another burp bubbled up from Shawn’s belly, making him plant a firm hand on the table. His nausea was back with a vendetta against him. He was beginning to suspect that there was no chance of keeping the food down.

Just then, Shawn’s stomach let out such a loud gurgle that it made Mateo turn fully around. He abandoned the dishes and looked straight at Shawn. “Seriously, is your stomach okay? That didn’t sound good.”

“Um…” Shawn rose shakily from the table with one hand over his mouth. A hiccup made his shoulders hitch. A painful spasm seized his belly, causing him to hunch forward.

“Shawn?” Mateo’s voice came from another land. It was muffled by the blood pulsing in Shawn’s ears.

Shawn could feel another belch—or maybe something more—rise in his throat. He didn’t want to stick around to find out if he was going to lose his dinner all over the table, so he dashed to the bathroom down the hall.

The boy landed on his knees in front of the toilet just as a flood of hot vomit rushed out of his mouth. It didn’t take much effort on his part to bring up the food he’d just eaten. It gurgled up his throat easily, driven by the sharp squeezed in his abdomen. He coughed and belched, filling the toilet with barely-digested potatoes and meat.

Mateo was by his side in an instant, rubbing his back, even as his face expressed shock and confusion. He didn’t say anything about this sudden turn of events. He simply let Shawn know he was there by his gentle touch.

With traces of vomit burning his nose, Shawn spared a glance at Mateo. His boyfriend looked—as expected—concerned. He certainly hadn’t been expecting Shawn to run into the bathroom, moments after finishing his favourite meal.

“I’m sorry,” Shawn choked out in between retches. “I tried to keep it down.” That was all he could manage before his belly lurched again, pushing his body forward. The sick flowed from his mouth in thick streams.

Mateo shook his head, still utterly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I was really nauseous, but then you made such a nice dinner for me…” he paused long enough to burp and spit a glob of saliva into the bowl. “I thought my stomach could handle it. I wanted it to.”

“Oh, Shawn, no,” Mateo said regretfully. “Honey, why would you do that to yourself?” His gentle rubbing along Shawn’s back slowed as he seemed to think about the issue more. “No, don’t answer that. I know exactly why you did it.”

“I’m sorry, Teo.” Shawn wanted to say more but he gagged again. He groaned and hovered his mouth over the toilet once more, letting strings of saliva drip into the water. He didn’t have to wait long before his stomach clenched, sending up a smaller wave of puke. The volume of each bout was decreasing, but he was not finished. “Ugh my belly,” he whined. His comfort meal did not feel so comforting coming back up

Mateo clicked his tongue. “What am I gonna do with you?”

When Shawn’s stomach began to settle, he leaned back against the wall and let out a sigh. He licked his lips and grimaced. “Can you get me a drink of water?”

“Sure,” Mateo said, rising to his feet. He filled a small cup at the bathroom sink. “Here you go.”

Shawn grabbed it carefully, aware that his hands were still shaking from gripping the toilet bowl so tight. “Gotta get the taste out of my mouth.”

“Of course.”

Shawn almost had the cup up to his lips when he quickly added, “But please don’t think the meal was bad. It wasn’t! It was good. You did a great job, babe.”

Mateo laughed at this. “Thanks.”

“We’ll have it as leftovers.”

“Sure, eventually,” Mateo said with a hint of amusement in his voice. “But I don’t think you’ll be eating it anytime soon.”

“That’s okay.” Shawn sighed as the cool water soothed his throat. “We’ll freeze it, and it’ll be there when I’m ready.”

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writteninthesewalls28 · 5 months

Text

Family

A story about a girl wanting to find out the truth

A/n: chapter nine!

Warnings: a few curse words

Milly’s POV:

The next few days simply were amazing. I honestly forgot how amazing it is, to not worry about anything. Everything at work was going good, Niall was with me, I had Calum by my side and would meet his bandmates again after a couple of months of not having any contact with them.

I must admit that the thought of being filmed for hours creeped me out a little, but there would only be people who like me right? I sadly got the chance to experience the wrong sort of fans when me and Calum just started dating and fans sent death threads to me or told me, I didn’t deserve Calum.

Since then, me and him try to stay out of the media as much as we can, never really seen together.

So today will be an important milestone, not only for the band, but for me as well. ————————

Instead of getting ready for visiting Micheal and choose my outfit, I sat on my desk in my little home office. Literally staring at my computer, I read the same email from my colleague over and over again. She’s joking right? It can’t be true.

I'm a self employed lawyer with an own law firm together with another lawyer who over the few years became a very good friend of mine. I was happy with my work, my work environment and my colleague.

But this email here right in front of me showed that she had a different opinion.

"Hello Mildred, I am truly sorry that I even have to write this email. I have to tell you that I have to quit my job and sign over my part of the law firm to you, making you the only owner. At the moment, I don’t feel comfortable enough to talk about my situation right now, just know that I'm fine… maybe we can arrange a meeting in the future. I'm sorry."

The only owner of the company? No, no, no! So much work, managing all the client at once, changing the logo, the website, getting a new name…. It’s too much! Hiding my face in my hands, silent tears streamed down my face. I knew, I'd have to search for a new colleague or I need to quit my job too, I won’t be able to manage everything alone, or I'll end up working 14 hours per day.

Being a lawyer was my dream since- ever.

Losing that would be like losing a fight you never knew you had. Losing a fight, a battle, against myself.

What should I do now?

WHAT SHOULD I DO NOW?!

"Milly?" Calum shouted from the bathroom. 30 minutes ago, I told him, I just have to check something for my new client on my laptop before I get ready.

I indeed got a new client. It was a dad, who never knew he had a child with his teenage love. That girl is 17 now and wants to spend time with her dad as much as he wants to. Problem is: the mother sees the man as evil and doesn’t want her kid near him. Very interesting case, I must say.

But right when the monitor had lit up, the email from Melissa (my colleague) had popped up.

Well, we all knew how that turned out: sitting in my office, the make-up I already put on for the stream was ruined thanks to the crying. Why? Why do I have to get the mail now? Now, that I already have so much drama with my family and feel stressed because of the search.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice Calum's footsteps getting closer and closer to the office door until he knocked and shortly after opened the door, scaring the hell out of me.

"Cal!", I shouted, "What are you doing?"

The confused look on his face said it all: My make-up looked hopelessly destroyed.

"Ummm… well, maybe I should ask you that question." He slowly made his way to me, sitting on the chair next to my desk.

The room that I now call my home office had been Calum’s recording room first, before we decided to move all his stuff to my old office and change rooms. He needed more space, I never needed as much as I had in the old room. I got to paint the walls in a soft baby blue and hang up lots of pictures of me and mum, me and Louis, me and the twins, me and Lottie, me and Calum, but I’m most thankful for the beautiful picture I have from Félicité and me just a month before she passed at an Ed Sheeran concert in Sheffield. Me and Fiz always were like bubblegum and marceline. Two completely opposites, but soul sister. Sadly, our connection was cut off way too soon. She deserved so many more years together with me.

Calum wrapped his arms around me from behind as he scanned the text on my computer right in front of him.

"These are great news sweetie! Why are you feeling down?" He asked, having a huge smile on his face. Even though I was very confused by his reaction, I answered him.

"We both know, I'm not as good as Melissa when we’re talking about being a lawyer. How should this work?" I got more and more upset, did he seriously think, I could manage this alone?

"Hold up, what did you say?" He responded, tightening his grip around my waist. "You are the best lawyer ever!"

Of course he immediately noticed the hesitation on my face, so he added: "Before you get the chance to deny it, let me ask you, why is it that you constantly got more clients than Melissa since the very start of the company?" He had a huge smile on his face.

"Calum! That is not true!" Cause it wasn’t. Me and her always got the same amount of clients. But that’s still beside the actual point of this.

"The thing is, I won't be able to handle a full law firm on my own. It’s impossible." I tried explain my point of view to him, knowing he most likely won’t agree with me. Cause, you know… he’s Calum. The man, who will never accept it whenever I say, I can’t do something.

"We will find a way, sweetie." He let out a soft sigh and grabbed my arm to lift me up from the chair. "Come on, put your favorite sweater on and a sweatpants and meet me in the living room."

This man never fails to confuse me, but make me happy at the same time. "Am I allowed to ask, why you are not in a hurry for the twitch stream?"

He shook his head. Of course. "Let me handle that, you have enough to worry about." With that, he left the room and I heard his feet on the stairs, heading downstairs.

With a huge smile on my face, I slowly walked to our shared bedroom and get something to wear (yes, a sweater and sweatpants) and made sure to use lots of make up remover so the ruined mascara comes off of my face. I'd never leave the house without putting enough make-up on because I always have been insecure about my imperfect skin with all the pimples. But Calum loved them. He loved me, especially the true me without any makeup.

Calum’s POV:

He would never admit it, but he secretly was actually happy that he doesn’t have to go to Micheal and do the stupid stream. He doesn’t want nasty comments about his girlfriend, who apparently didn’t deserve him.

Now, he can instead do a cosy date night with the person he loves most.

Standing in the kitchen, he prepared lots of snacks for them and made sure it'll look all nice and delicious.

He always knew when Milly needs comfort. Right now, she was just freaked out and had no idea how to do it, but sooner or later Calum knew she will realize that she’s so incredible and can achieve anything if she just believes in herself.

"You are the best, do you know that?" He heard Milly say behind him. He turned around to take a look at her and couldn’t help but smile like an idiot when he noticed that she wasn’t wearing any makeup, despite her 'bad' skin. Stepping two steps forward so he could stand right in front of her, he gave her a soft kiss and hugged her right after it.

"What are we watching today?" He and Milly watched tons of rom-cons and were the biggest netflix junkies.

"You choose" He loved it even more, when Milly chose what to watch.

"Umm… I heard something about a film called "The kissing both". Should we watch that one?" She suggested and Calum tried hiding the fact that he just watched that film when she wasn’t there and everyone was worried about her.

He'll just watch it again. It’s gonna be more fun with her together anyways.

"That sounds amazing, let’s watch it then!" Calum responded, lifting the snack from the kitchen table to take it into the living room and wrapped his other arm around his girlfriends waist.

They sat down on the sofa and made themselves comfortable. While Calum tried to find the movie and start it so they could watch it, Milly asked him the question standing between them, creating this awkward silence.

"And you’re really okay with staying at home with me? You can go if you want…"

Oh no. Calum thought, knowing that Milly, again, figured she was holding him back from meeting his friends.

"Mills, I hope you don’t think, that I'm unhappy spending the evening with you here. I love you, okay?" He made a small pause, clicking on the right keys on the remote control so the movie would finally start. Why did it take so long to find it today? "And I care about you, more than you'll probably ever be able to know. If you are uncomfortable and sad, I'm staying home, period." He just really wanted her to realize, she’s worth of love and worth of being cared about. She deserved everything. If Calum would be able to do that, he'd give her the world (and if he could, even the whole universe). Still focused on the TV and his mission to START THE MOVIE FOR GODS SAKE, he didn't notice the exact moment tears started to form in Milly’s eyes. It was only till he looked over to her, he saw the red eyes and the tears on her cheeks.

He softened his gave and let go of the remote control, causing it to fall down onto the little table, the sound echoing through the whole room, before he fully turned his whole body to his girlfriend and embraced her, making sure not to let go of her first. That’s what a good boyfriend does when his significant other cried, right?

She continued to cry in his arms. "I don’t deserve you. You are too good for me." Hugging him longer, she added a quiet "You make me all soft and mushy inside, you know that?" She whispered, confusing Calum. Was he supposed to take that last sentence as a compliment?

"Umm… that is a good thing, right?" He just had to make sure.

"Of course! You melt me, idiot!" She thankfully said, laughing uncontrollably. "Did you seriously think, I was insulting you?" Milly asked, giving him a questioning look.

"I don’t know what I thought, but thanks for the compliment I guess?"

"You know, you remind me of your 16 year old version right now, when we met in Lukes living room and he introduced you to me. You also were that awkward back then."

Calum couldn’t help himself, but laugh like a literal idiot.

He did remember that.

And she was right. God, he had been such an awkward boy. How did she even fall in love with a person as strange as him?

"To my defense, you were 3 years older than me and I immediately fell in love with you when I saw you. Of course I acted a little strange." It was true, he had felt the little sparkle in his chest grow bigger and bigger as Milly had continued to introduce herself to Micheal and him. It never stopped from there.

"Not only a little strange. A little much." She responded with a huge smile on her face, trying to hold back the laughter.

"Okay, enough. I feel humiliated." Calum loved making Milly smile with his sarcasm. These little funny moment when they’re messing with each other were his absolute favorite in their relationship anyways. It made him realize over and over again what she means to him and how boring his life would be without her by his side.

"Fine, since you can’t seem to start the movie, let me try it." She said, aggressively grabbing the remote control.

The rest of the night, they spend with watching the movie, talking about Calum’s tour and album and Milly’s new client and his current situation.

Oh how much he loved this woman.

Milly’s POV:

The next days were going by pretty slowly. I had to organize so much stuff in order to become the only owner of the company. It was a big and scary step, I never thought about having to take. But here I was, thinking about a new name for the law firm, changing the website, arranging a date for Melissa to sign her part of the company over to me.

Thankfully, Calum was allowed to follow along and come with me to the appointment. He helped me relax a bit.

The day after our movie night, he told me, he talked Micheal into changing the official date for the live stream and make it around 2 weeks later.

Unluckily, it was the exact day of the appointment with Melissa. Means, we wouldn’t get time to chill and think about the newest changes and directly had to drive to Micheals house and join the stream (that, by the way, already started).

We both obviously weren’t amused by it, but what should we do?

————————————

"You okay?" Calum asked me, as we sat in his car after the appointment with my ex-colleague.

I was the only owner of my law firm.

My dream.

But it felt different than I imagined it 10 years ago.

"Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?" I responded.

"Milly, I can hear your heavy breathing, that isn’t a panic attack right?"

I had told Calum a few days ago about that moment where I got these flashbacks and nearly fainted. He thinks it was a panic attack.

I doubt it.

But he strongly believes it.

"No, just start driving. I'm okay." The truth was, I did feel a bit fuzzy, but it was a lot to process. Moments like that (big changes in my life) never had been easy for me to handle.

Calum grabbed my hand and slid his fingers through mine, making sure I knew he was there for me. I gave him a little smile as a response to his sweet gesture.

Arriving in front of Micheals house, he didn’t let go of my hand, even as Micheal opened the door, hugged both of us and leaded us inside to the room, filled with Luke, Ashton and Niall. All three of them smiled at us as we entered the room right behind Micheal.

"Look who we have here!" Micheal shouted and sat down on a chair, gesturing me and Calum to sit down between Niall and Luke on a red sofa.

"The famous Calum Hood and Milly Tomlinson!" Both of us waved to the screen and sat down on the sofa.

"You good?" Was the first thing Niall said to me. Did I look bad or something or why does everyone ask me that?

"Yeah, of course. Does something not look alright?"

He shrugged. "I don’t know, you just look a little pale and nervous. That’s all.“

I told Niall about my poor situation at work when he visited us 2 days ago to work on some music with Calum and the other boys.

"I own the company now." I said, not sure if the viewers on the stream could hear our quiet conversation.

The time passed by, I sat cuddled into Calum, not saying much on the stream. I admit that the thing overwhelmed me a little in combination with my new work situation and just was happy when I could finally go home.

The first thing I did, as soon as I returned home, was taking a shower and get into more comfortable clothes before I walked over to our bedroom and found Cal lying on his bed scrolling on his phone.

"Milly, the people love us.“ I gave him a confused look. What? They never liked me.

"What do you mean?" I responded, crawling into bed, to have a look at his phone.

"Micheal sent me screenshots from some comments on his instagram post where he thanked them for the awesome stream."

Looking over at his phone, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

"Millum = cutest couple ever"

"I hope Milly and Calum get married some day."

"Milly cuddled into Calum, literally couple goals."

"If my future boyfriend doesn’t treat me like Calum treats Milly, I don’t want him."

"Omg guys, did you see the small gestures Milly and Calum exchanged throughout the stream?"

Were only some of the best ones I could find.

"I love your fans, they’re the best." I said, handing the phone back to him.

"And I'm happy that they love my princess."

Yeah, I officially melted.

And that night, I made a decision.

I won't give up. Not yet.

I'll continue finding my parents.

Without googling their names though, it simply stressed me out too much and I won’t find out anything anyways, right?

There are other ways. I could for example just go back to the neighborhood where they lived years ago and try meet neighbors who maybe knew them.

I just needed to know more about the mysterious Holly Mathilda Vacker and Arthur Vacker.

My parents.

#maddys fanfic

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nancywheelersgirlfriend · 2 years

Note

hey so for the fic request, i was wondering if you could do a fic about the mike will jonathan and argyle road-trip but they have to stay at a motel and byler has to share a bed (not anything yk bc they’re literally children) but through mikes pov i just wanna see him have a gay panic and freak out and get his inner thoughts

this is my first byler fic!! more of a short character study than anything. i hope this is what you were looking for!!! :)

gentle on my mind (1,392 words)

“We can only afford one room.”

Mike didn’t realize he was supposed to react with anything but mild annoyance before the sentence hit him square in the chest. Nearly knocked back by the emotional weight, in reality he stood and teetered to the side. The rest of the group interpreted this as his tiredness. He knew otherwise.

There was something about the implication of one room that bothered him. Two beds. Four boys. Honestly, the fact that it was getting to him was worse than the actual situation; had he never shared his bed before? Of course he had. Back when they were small enough, he and Lucas would sleep shoulder-to-shoulder on the bottom bunk of his bedroom, Dustin and Will on the top. That was how they spent summer nights. But they’d stopped doing that years ago. Mike had been sleeping alone.

Tonight, though, he wouldn’t be. Out in nowhere Nevada, shackled by clothes days-old and smelly, stood in between his best friend’s brother and said brother’s best friend, ignoring all eye contact with his best friend and trying not to wish for the world to implode.

Instead Mike stared at the water stain on the ceiling that looked a little like a mushroom cloud. He could hear Jonathan’s low conversation with the woman at the desk only in subtle vocal tones - parents in Charlie Brown style. He knew, distantly, that this should be the least of his worries. And it was. He was trying to make it so, at least. El was somewhere lost in the desert. He hadn’t seen her in days. Sleeping arrangements shouldn’t have mattered to him.

“You alright, little dude?” Argyle asked. His voice was swimming. Mike turned away from the ceiling to glance over his shoulder, realizing he’d stayed rooted in place while his travel companions had begun heading for their motel room.

“Uh, yeah,” Mike said intelligently. He picked up his lead-heavy feet and followed after, trailing and bumping into the columns as they walked back across the parking lot. He missed the comfort of his own bed. He missed his ability to avoid conversations he didn’t want to have.

Sleeping in a bed with Will meant that they would have to talk. About what, exactly, Mike honestly wasn’t too sure of. The list seemed endless. He dreaded having to come up with reasons for why he had acted the way he had - all oblivious and stupid, no letters or calls or nothing. In reality he had no justification for the way he had treated Will. In his mind…

In his mind it was a different story. But a story he wasn’t willing to utter aloud, especially to the boy he’d have to survive sleeping next to. Getting killed in his sleep wasn’t on Mike’s bucket list.

He watched Jonathan fiddle with the lock, some shitty key bent halfway down from years of misuse. Across the motel Mike suspected no-doubt shady dealings were going down; they were so isolated. Still in the back of his mind he knew the most intense and unpleasant event to happen that night would be sharing this stupid bed.

“Right or left?” Will asked. Mike blinked back into focus to see that somehow, somewhere, he had made it through the heavy red door and was now stood at the foot of the offending bed. He looked at his best friend and back down at the mattress.

“I don’t care,” Mike managed to choke out. He spun on his heel because just the sight of the bed was making his hands clammy. Will shuffled behind him, Jonathan and Argyle arguing by the bathroom sink. Mike moved to stand and look out the motel window. Past the opposite end of rooms, rooms potentially available to avoid sleeping in the same bed as your best friend, the desert stretched on endlessly. El could be anywhere. They were so alone out there. Mike was alone.

Except -

“Let’s go to sleep,” Will dragged out the last word childishly. Mike heard the springs of the mattress groan underneath his weight. He tore his eyes from the desert and submitted to his fate.

Will was sprawled out on the bed, long legs kicking back and all, his hair ruffled from the day’s stress. His face was pressed into the pillow. Mike watched his mouth come slightly ajar to breathe deeper in sleep, eyes pressed shut. His eyelashes fanned out on his cheeks. He’d gotten tan in California, hadn’t he? Mike had never seen Will as anything other than on the verge of translucent. But the sun had given him colors. And freckles. Freckles that spread out across his nose, his arms. They dotted his forehead, disappearing into his bangs. It looked good. He looked good - you know. Having color. It made him healthy. Obviously he didn’t look good for any other reason.

“Mike!” Will said again. He flopped out a spaghetti limb to pat at the empty space beside him, but he didn’t open his eyes. Mike swallowed, sent up a quick prayer, and submitted to his fate.

Jonathan flicked off the last light left in between them. The room was shrouded in darkness. Only the blue light of the motel sign across the way was visible. Its neon power dripped onto the floor through the blinds, casting shadows on Will’s face.

Mike knew he should turn over on his other side and forget the whole thing entirely. Laying on this side (his left) specifically to watch Will do whatever it was he did while he was sleeping was the stupidest idea Mike had ever had the pleasure of having. But he didn’t turn around. And neither did Will. The latter because he was halfway to REM by this point. The former for no particular reason.

Except there was a reason. He liked watching the way Will’s eyelashes fluttered everytime he took a breath. The subtle shift of his chest in a rhythm Mike appreciated paying attention to. The way the blue light of the sign lit up Will’s face in a way Mike had never seen before. Distantly Mike was reminded of the time he’d slept over at Will’s house during his period of hospitalization. How strange and affected Will had been then. He’d been at his palest. Sickly.

Now he looked healthy and good. He looked like a stranger. Maybe Mike had been the one making him sickly all along, and now that Will had moved he was thriving. He didn’t know. They hadn’t had time to talk about it. No letters or phonecalls either. Mike realized he’d committed a worse act than sharing a bed with your best friend - sharing a bed with a stranger.

God, but he didn’t want Will to be a stranger. It killed him inside to call him that. He wanted to know everything about Will inside and out. He wanted to be with Will constantly so that he wouldn’t even have to tell him - they’d sense it together, as they had when they were kids. He missed that closeness. He was desperately craving it right now, lying with a good foot of space in between himself and Will.

Slowly the realization that Mike had been avoiding for years budded at the back of his neck; like a Pompeii-level migraine. He ignored it. There were more important things to worry about. El was gone. He hadn’t called his mom in days and had no real way to.

But he wanted. Mike wanted. What he wanted he couldn’t admit. But it felt realer than anything else.

Mike reached out and brushed apart Will’s bangs on his forehead, feather light and nearly unregistered. Will let out a little sigh but he kept his eyes closed. His hair had felt nice.

Mike was hit with a wave of wish, suddenly, to touch Will everywhere. Feel his hair by burying his hands in it. Pull him close for warmth even though Mike was burning up with a mental fever. Press all his fingers into the individual freckles to keep them there, hold them down.

He was just tired. He was just confused. There were more important things to worry about. Mike swallowed back all protests against himself and shut his eyes. The image of Will, sleeping there with a hand tucked underneath his head, stayed.

It was the best thing he’d ever seen.

#byler #byler s4 #byler fix it #mike wheeler #mike wheeler character study #mike wheeler apologist #mike wheeler is bi #will byers #mike wheeler is in love with will byers #mike wheeler loves will byers #mike wheeler is gay #gay pining #stranger things fic #byler fic #byler fanfiction #byler fic prompt

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thefactsofthematter · 2 years

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more dance studio au details under the cut bc i woke up too early this morning and wrote bc i couldn’t fall asleep again, and have now organized those half-asleep thoughts

- they’re all on the teaching team at a big commercial dance studio, which has tons of drop in classes but also a competitive team!

- jack teaches hip hop — the boy can GROOVE, and he’s known for sharp, hard-hitting choreo and the funnest class you’ll ever take. this is the vibe. as a teenager, he was a proper b-boy, but after a wrist injury he had to give up breaking and shift his focus to commercial hip hop. he can still dance like crazy but doesn’t perform much anymore, so it’s a treat when you get to watch him demonstrate in class (or even better, when you show up to someone else’s class and he’s dancing along in the back row).

- davey teaches ballet. of course he does. he’s a little intimidating at first, because his classes are pretty intense and serious, but he’s actually a total sweetheart who just wants to help you improve and learn. he was in a professional company for a few years, but ultimately didn’t enjoy the atmosphere and realized he much prefers teaching. his classes range from baby ballet, to adult recreational, to coaching the studio’s top teen dancers for major competitions. everyone knows his classes are hard as fuck, but so worth it because you always gain something from them

- race is the head coach for the most advanced comp teams, and he’s a definite jack of all trades. his signature is very difficult and intense jazz groups (very molly long style choreography) but he knows how to play to every individual dancer’s strengths when working on solos— he’ll give them anything from contemporary to tap to acro and everything in between, because he has a very well-rounded skill set from when he was a (very successful) competitive dancer himself. he still actively dances, but coaching his team of elite little prodigies is his number one focus.

- spot is race’s boyfriend who doesn’t have any dance experience but has totally immersed himself in the community at the studio. he drops into open classes sometimes just to try it (usually when jack is teaching) but mostly is just a steady presence as he pops in to drop off coffee and whatnot for race every so often. the kids all think he’s incredibly cool, and he’s not exactly sure what to do with the fact that he has a little fan club made up primarily of 8-12 year old girls, but he honestly can’t complain.

- kath teaches theatrical jazz, heels, ballroom/latin, and all that kind of stuff! she looooves some good sexy choreo and especially loves when people who wouldn’t usually move like that step out of their comfort zones to try it— most of her classes are adult recreational drop-ins for that reason. she’s all about building confidence and just has the BEST vibes

- medda is the company director and crutchie is her admin assistant (he danced growing up but his MS started getting worse as he got older so he’s officially retired now, he sometimes substitute teaches different classes). these two make the whole operation run, and it’s no easy task! there’s a solid week at the end of every summer where it’s dangerous territory to even talk to crutchie, because he’s so stressed about building the class schedule for the upcoming season that he could snap at any moment. he can normally be found at the front desk with a smile on his face, though! medda is usually either in her office or in one of the studios, teaching technique classes to the competition teams or just observing while the other teachers work— she started coaching race when he was a toddler so she thinks it’s fun to watch him and see how he’s grown <3

- anyways!! that’s a nice little dump of all the thoughts on my mind at the moment,, i have some plot ideas ready so i may or may not end up writing something! we shall see, folks.

#this is so incredibly self indulgent it’s not even funny #but listen. i do what i want with my blorbos and this is exactly what i want #dance au

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newbornwhumperfly · 1 year

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How would each member of the team decorate their rooms, given infinite resources?

oops this answer is...years late but the lovely thoughtfulness of the question still captivates me, it was so thrilling to think about this and thank you so much for your sweet early interest in my world, @much-ado-about-whumping 💖😍💖

Brax - As you know, Brax is an eminently fancy human, so they’d be very stylish and luxurious in making their quarters like their old apartment. Brax’s tastes run…expensive, since they appreciate high-quality things. Silk sheets, scented candles, rich jewel-toned velvet couches and foot-stools - they would especially invest in their collection of books. Being a massive bookworm, they would prefer shelf upon shelf of finely bound books surrounding them at all times. They would invest in some dimming lights. They would also invest in a more orthopedic chair for their desk (because hours of paperwork is a bitch and a half on one’s neck), honestly, Tyrus Legion bases have poor taste in chairs, in their personal opinion.

Cobi - His first change would be adding a nice big window you can actually open, cause he’s an outdoorsy boy and needs a lot more natural sunshine in his personal space. Cobi would add lots more goofy queer decor, banners and throw pillows and stuff. Cobi would also add little bright and colorful bits and bobs cause he’s a little magpie - souvenirs, prizes he won at fairs, photographs of pals and family, just…would like lots of room to scatter his stuff. A big space to live his big life in his big body. He would also have little things for pets since Cobi loves pets! So, towers for cats, beds for dogs, all the amenities for his furry friends. Speaking of friends, Cobi would appreciate big couches and deep-sinking-into chairs, floofy poofs to sit on, lots of surfaces for friends to sit down on and just chill. Oh, he’d also have so many mini-fridges and snack-bars, just a multitude of every kind of food-stuff a loved one would enjoy.

Claudia - While Claud certainly is a sporty gal and a very tough butch, she is also a nerd at heart and wants her sanctum sanctorum to be a place of goofing and security. It’s harder for her to invest in creature comforts unless she’s being very indulgent, but given the resources, she’d have a real little nerd-cave! She’s extremely into video games, so when she’s not doing jock shit, Claud likes to turn off her brain by focusing on a nice little puzzle task that’s also fun. Her room would have a nice little gaming console set up, one of those cool gaming desk chairs, the whole shebang. Claud would do cool neons and interesting mood-lighting, with cool blues and greens to give a underwater glow vibe to the room. She would also buy lots of organizing furniture (like shoe racks or hat hooks) that neaten the space up but still keeps her stuff on display. She would put up a lot of posters of the video games and action films she likes best, especially the vintage dorky ones from the 80’s/90’s.

Sarai - One thing Sarai takes very, very seriously is softness and permission to be soft. So her personal space is an area she has tried her utmost to cultivate that softness. Because of her disabilities, Sarai would prefer to make anything and everything as accessible as possible. She is still in the process of shedding shame over needing assistance, so she would have railings and grabbable-things to help with standing and walking around, plenty of room for her chair, etc. She would have one of those fancy motorized beds, a large bathtub with jets and stairs and shit. Sarai is also a very luxurious person at heart and an aesthete, so she would splurge on gorgeous silky throw blankets and tasseled pillows, painted lampshades, elaborately embroidered drapes for the windows and doorways, just every surface alight with warm, ripe-fruit colors. Deep, soft, sheepskin rugs on every surface so every step is warm and soft. Just deep indulgence to remind herself she deserves rest and softness, a refuge for when she forgets.

Jorah - In general, Jorah is kind of…straightforward and spartan in his personal tastes, super uhhh CisHet Guy oops more like he has sunk deep into a persona of being as Normie and Unobjectionable As Possible but that is neither here nor there. He doesn’t have a lot of personal touches in his home decor, for lack of a better word, and since he’s literally on a military base, he would prefer to let his Job Aesthetic dominate his personal space (it’s to help Compartmentalize, shh, think nothing of it.) So, you will see a lot of greytone…Adidas-esque aesthetics. Plain, hotel-esque bedclothes and furniture, expensive enough to be good quality but not unique, really? He doesn’t really care, as long as none of the style hokey or faux pas. Nice, respectable, businessman chic. Jorah would maybe splurge on some bougie exercise gear, nice shoes, good selection of athleisure, etc. He isn’t much the type to decorate a room, more his body. But he would probably invest in a nice fucking shower with perks, jets and all, because, damnit, this job is stressful sometimes and hey, decompressing lets him do his job better and high water pressure sure helps him relax and gets the blood out from under his nails.

thank you again, bel, what a thoughtful and delightful ask! 💖💖💖

#yes yes it is Delving Into Years-Old Asks Time!! 💖#much-ado-about-whumping #asks #raye answers #morja and company #my writing #fluff #brax hutchins #cobi #claudia #jorah

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aingealcethlenn · 2 years

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DA Chapter 19

Chapter 18

Harper spent the next six weeks trying to sort herself out. The visit with her brother and the kids, and even taking the trip to the circus to see familiar old faces, had helped some, but it was still not easy for her. It didn't help that she kept getting flashes of memories or nightmares — of jobs she had taken over the years, of her time spent with the soldier, of her time in Atlanta with Marcus and Nia — sometimes they were so vivid, so real, that she woke up in a cold sweat.

She sat on the beach, watching the sun dip below the waterline as darkness encroached on the sky. The ocean breeze blew through her hair, blowing the ends into her face as she stared at the dark waves crashing onto the sand. Harper couldn't help but think about her brother's words. Maybe it was time to change her destiny. Let the sun set on her past and start anew. After all, she'd been running from her own demons all her life, but maybe now was the time to take another look. Maybe this time, things could be different.

But how could she do it? How could she find the courage to face her greatest fear? She had hidden from her feelings for so long, pushing them down until she thought she had left them behind. If there was one thing she knew about herself, though, it was that it didn't matter where she went, what she did, or who she was. Because deep inside, underneath the facade, she was always that scared little kid that was destined to be a guardian angel for everyone else. And right now, looking out at the ocean, she knew she had finally reached the point where she just wanted to give it up; to let go of those fears and accept the possibility that things were going to work out okay. If there was one person she could trust, one person who could make her feel safe, even after everything she went through, it was James Barnes.

Harper stood up, brushed herself off, and grabbed her bag. She knew what she needed to do.

Arriving in New York the following evening, she got herself set up at a local hotel just outside the city. Harper settled into her room, flipped on the TV, and sat on the edge of the bed. Her hands were shaking, and she felt like her heart was racing. She knew this was the right thing to do, but that didn't stop her from feeling genuinely nervous for the first time in her life.

After a while, her nerves calmed enough for her to gather some items from her suitcase and take a quick shower. Once she had changed into something comfortable to sleep in, Harper climbed into the bed and pulled the covers up over herself. She closed her eyes and tried not to think too hard about anything in particular as she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Harper awoke to the sun streaming into her room through the window. She lay there for a while before getting up and making her way to the bathroom. Emerging a few minutes later, she got dressed for the day and opened her laptop. Tapping into Stark's security, as well as the cell phones of the team members, she figured out Fury's location and basic plans for the day.

Harper shut down her computer, grabbed her car keys and cell phone, and headed for the compound. Remaining unnoticed by anyone of importance, Harper found Fury's office quickly and let herself in. She knew he was in a brief with the team, so she made herself comfortable in a corner chair and just waited in the darkness until he returned.

He didn't even bother to look in her direction when he stepped through the door and flipped on the light. "I knew it was only a matter of time, Barton," he said without preamble. "Finally ready to join the team?"

"It isn't really a decision I've made yet," she replied calmly, her fingers steepled beneath her chin and her voice calm despite the butterflies in her stomach.

Fury sighed and shook his head. He took a seat at his desk, looking at her pointedly. "You telling me? Or yourself?"

Harper shrugged, standing from her chair and stepping toward the desk. "Both," she said honestly. "My life hasn't been… normal lately."

"You don't say," he retorted dryly.

"You know me, Nick," she continued as she took a seat across from him. "I don't honestly think that I will ever be ready to join your little team."

Fury studied her closely. She could almost see the wheels turning in his brain as he considered his options. When she didn't immediately continue, he asked, "What is it you're wanting then?"

Harper hesitated, thinking carefully about what she was going to say. "Honestly, I don't even know for sure. But I know I'm supposed to be here, Nick. This is the path I should have walked years ago."

Fury gave a single nod, and she could tell he was considering whether or not she would stick around if he allowed her to stay. After a moment, he spoke again. "All right, Barton. You can stay. However, keep in mind that I expect you to follow my orders."

Harper nodded, smiling softly at him. "Of course," she agreed.

"When you're ready, come back," Fury told her. "We'll get you started on missions right away."

"Understood," she said firmly. Standing up, she turned to leave and then paused, glancing back at him over her shoulder. "And Nick? Thank you." Fury didn't reply, so she left without another word.

That evening, Harper found herself standing on her brother's front step. She took a deep breath, steeling herself before knocking on the door. Seconds passed, and she heard footsteps approaching from inside the house, followed by Clint slowly opening the door.

"Harley?" he asked, surprise evident in his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I talk to you?" she asked, meeting his eyes steadily.

Clint frowned. "Okay…?" he said uncertainly, gesturing to the doorway. "Come in."

Harper stepped into the living room, closing the door behind her. "Sorry to just show up like this. I thought about texting you first, but..."

"It's fine," Clint reassured her. "So... What's going on?" he asked as he took a seat on one of the couches.

Harper sat across from him, wringing her hands nervously in her lap. Finally, she looked up at him and said in an unsteady voice, "I... I think I'm ready, Hawk."

Clint's eyebrows furrowed. "Ready for what?" he asked cautiously.

"To stick around for a while," she answered, looking straight at him. "I talked to Fury this morning."

Clint stared at her briefly before a broad smile spread across his face. "Wow," he breathed. "You finally decided you are ready to live a normal life, huh?"

"You can be rather persuasive," Harper shrugged with a smirk, leaning back against the couch. "Nick said I can take the time to get settled before actually working, so I'm thinking of looking for an apartment or something."

"Why not stay here?" he offered.

"What?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "It's just me here, and I've got more than enough room. That way, you have plenty of time to look for a place of your own and don't have to stay in a hotel while you look."

"Hawk, I couldn't impose like that-"

"You're not," he interjected. "We're family. It wouldn't be an imposition at all."

Harper studied him for a moment, trying to decide what to say. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," he assured her. "I'm glad you're staying, Harley. Really."

"Thanks, Hawk," she replied sincerely, her eyes shining. "I really appreciate that."

Harper had been staying with her brother for two weeks. She had hardly left the house in that time, mainly keeping to herself, but Clint could tell she was accepting her new life. She had helped him finally decorate the place so it felt more like a home, and had made actual meals for the two of them rather than living off of junk food. They spent their time getting to know each other again and talking about what she hoped for with her future with S.H.I.E.L.D..

Sitting on the sofa one evening while watching TV, Clint brought up the one subject that she had been managing to avoid thus far, and she immediately froze. His words hung in the air between them for a moment before he broke the silence again. "Well?" he prompted.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Hawk," she replied quietly.

"You're going to have to face him eventually, Harls. I mean, you're going to be working with the man soon enough."

"Working together is one thing," she argued. "But I can't just show up unannounced and admit I have feelings for him."

"Why not?" he challenged. "That's exactly how you've always done things."

"This is different," she insisted.

"How so?" he pressed.

She let out a sigh. "Because I've never had feelings like these for anyone before. What if he attacks me when he sees me? What if he turns me away? What if he doesn't feel the same? What if -"

"You're fooling yourself, Harley,” Clint cut her off, sounding serious. “You're scared of him, and that's perfectly understandable. But what if you're wrong about it? You were close with him before; why not do it again?"

Harper turned on the couch so that her body was facing her brother. "I was never close with him, Hawk. The Dark Angel was close with the Winter Soldier. Harper and James never knew each other until they met at the tower. It's not the same."

"Bullshit," Clint scoffed. "I've seen the way you've looked at him. It's obvious you're attracted to him. And I've seen the way he looks at you. You're letting your fear control you, Harley. Why?"

"Because…" she began, then trailed off and shrugged helplessly.

"Because you're finally in a position where you can think about yourself instead of what everyone else thinks of you. You don't have to keep up an image, Harley, you can allow yourself to be happy, but you're too fucking stubborn to follow through."

Harper stared up at Clint in disbelief for a moment, unable to speak. Her chest ached painfully with emotion, and her throat tightened. Clint saw the look in his sister's eyes and knew he was on the right track.

"That's it, isn't it? You're afraid that if you open yourself up to this version of Barnes, you won't be able to close yourself down again like you could with the soldier. You're not worried about him causing you any physical harm. It's the fact that he could make you truly happy for the first time in your life that scares you the most. Because once you're happy, it can be taken away from you, and you can't bear the thought of that anymore.”

Harper blinked hard several times, staring at her brother. A few silent moments passed before she finally spoke, breaking the uncomfortable tension between them. “I guess I can’t argue with that,” she admitted.

“No, you can’t,” he replied gently. "But you need to find a balance between who you were before and who you are now. The old Harley would have never been afraid of someone like this."

"The old Harley would have never given in to feelings of love, or fear, Hawk," Harper tried to reason. “But, I can't hide them anymore. They have gotten too strong for me to bury like I used to."

"Then maybe you ought to try embracing them instead of burying them, huh?" Clint suggested.

Harper sighed, nodding slightly. "Maybe you're right, Hawk."

Clint chuckled, “Of course I am.” He watched her for a moment longer before turning back to the TV that was still playing the movie they had been watching. "Whatever you decide, know that I'll support you," he said.

"Thanks, Clint," she replied with a soft smile.

Chapter 20 – Masterlist – Taglist

#clint barton #barton sister series #Clint Barton sister #marvel #Marvel Universe #MARVEL FANDOM #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic series #MCU #mcu fandom #MCU fic #MCU fanfiction #mcu family #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfic series

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