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lovebugism · 1 year

Note

Hi I am begging on my knees for more of your steddie x reader it’s so good I’m crying

BIZARRE LOVE TRIANGLE | baby fever

summary: steve's got a bad case of baby fever. it's not so bad until you start getting sick with it too. eddie has to come up with a solution before all of you fall ill.

pairing: steve harrington / f!reader / eddie munson

a/n: i just realized i haven't posted anything steddie related in almost three months. i am so sorry. this is a total travesty. please enjoy this 3k blurb and find it in your heart to forgive me <3

You squint at the grocery list scribbled on a bright blue sticky note. It’s a mish-mash of all your different handwritings. Some are certainly neater than others. “This just says crabs… I think...”

“It doesn’t say crabs, you loon,” Eddie laughs from where he mans the shopping cart beside you. He’s steering the thing about as well as his van. “It says cereals.”

“No, it says a bunch of gibberish that no one can read but you,” you retort with a giggle of your own as you follow him down the breakfast aisle. “And we just need one box of cereal, alright? Singular.”

He turns to you with a cartoonish pout on his lips. “But why?”

“Because you’re like a kid, Eds. You eat the entire thing in one sitting, and then you’re absolutely haywire for the rest of the day.”

And, just like a child, the boy stands in front of the vibrantly colored boxes of cereal with a wide grin on his face.

The local grocery store was smaller compared to the others in town, but they had every brand of the breakfast food known to man, stacked in neat rows from the floor to ceiling.

Eddie’s got a twinkle in his eye as his gaze runs over them all. And even though you think it’s all boyish and hilarious, you let him have his fun.

He grew up unable to enjoy all the goodness of overly sweet cereal because bills and food with actual sustenance were always more important. Now, he’s got a halfway stable job with Wayne at the car shop, and he’s living at his own place with his boyfriend and girlfriend, and he can buy whatever the hell kind of cereal he wants.

So, as far as he’s concerned, everyone who said he’d never amount to much can suck it.

And you know you’ll let him buy the whole damn grocery store out of their cereal if that’s what he wants. It’s the least you can do for the world’s best boyfriend — a title he begrudgingly shares with Steve The Hair Harrington.

You’d give him the world if you could, but for now you’ll have to settle for a couple of boxes of Lucky Charms.

“Okay, so the OJ’s we got last time tasted like absolute shit,” Eddie mutters, mostly to himself as he crouches to peer at the lower shelves. “I saw a commercial for Waffle-O’s this morning, and they looked pretty good. But I know you like Breakfast With Barbie and Steve ate a bowl of C3PO’s every day for, like, two weeks, so…”

You stand by the cart and laugh at his rambling. You turn to look behind you with a lighthearted joke sitting on the edge of your tongue. It dissipates when you realize Steve isn’t next to you.

Instead, he’s still standing at the end of the aisle with his back to you and Eddie — like his feet forgot how to work when he caught sight of the family across the store. It’s a mother and a father, dressed in their mid-weekday finest, with a baby swaddled at their chest and a toddler bouncing in the seat of the shopping cart.

And you know it’s got the boy totally lost in his own head. You know he's picturing you and him and Eddie as that happy family — the one fills every store you walk into with baby babbles and bubbly laughter.

Steve told you his senior year of high school he wanted a baby, that he wanted six of them, and that he wanted them all with you. And you were just a stupid seventeen-year-old girl who would’ve done anything he asked you to, though you definitely drew the line at babies.

But you’re older now, and far more settled than you had been all that time ago. Steve’s ready for a family, but you don’t think you’re anywhere close.

“How about we just compromise and get all three?” Eddie finally concludes with the boxes already in his arms. He dumps them into the cart and notices that your attention is elsewhere. He realizes then that Steve’s gone too because his attention is stuck on a nice family minding their own business.

“Not again…” he murmurs to himself while you go rescue the boy.

“I’ve never seen someone so sick with baby fever in my life,” you laugh as you drag Steve back to the cart by his wrist.

“I can’t help it!” he defends weakly. “They were so cute! They were all matching and I couldn’t stop thinking about how I can’t wait to coordinate outfits with our baby. Doesn’t that sound like the cutest fucking thing ever?”

“It sounds very adorable, Stevie,” you nod understandingly and try to ignore the way your stomach twists at the thought of him and his baby girl wearing matching pastels every time they step out of the house. “And we can be just like them in five years—”

“Five years?” he gapes.

“Maybe even ten,” Eddie shrugs and nonchalantly tosses a box of Count Chocula into the cart.

“Ten years— You guys are insane if you think I’m waiting ten years to have a kid!” Steve protests with a pair of buff arms crossed boyishly over his chest. “I’m not getting any younger over here, you know that, right?”

“You’re twenty-five, Steve, stop being so dramatic. We’re just now trying to get settled. I’m still in school, you’re still working at Family Video, Eddie’s still… Eddie. Don’t you think we should have actual careers before we have a kid?”

Steve huffs and rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance even though he knows you’re right.

It’s not like he wants to keep working at the stupid store on Main Street. He keeps putting off the conversation with his dad about another job, because he puts off every conversation with his dad. He’s scared of what asking for a position at his firm will do to his pride.

“She’s right, and you know it, Steven,” Eddie tells him, then scoffs. “I mean, can you really imagine me with a baby strapped to my chest on tour?”

You and Steve both pause and tilt your heads to the side as you picture the sight, terribly in sync as always. You can imagine it, quite perfectly actually, tangible enough to touch.

“Well—”

“That’s the cutest thing I think I’ve ever heard,” Steve finishes your thought for you.

Eddie cowers at the sudden attention. “Okay, stop looking at me like I’m a piece of meat, alright? We are not having a kid right now. There’s no fucking way.”

Steve all but deflates at the rejection as Eddie pushes the cart down the aisle, desperate to escape the bubble of tension the conversation had created in the cereal section.

You smile sheepishly over at Steve and wrap your arms through the crook of his elbow, standing on the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “He’s being grumpy about it, but he’s right… It’s just not a good idea right now— but it will be, okay? One day. Just not… to-day.”

┄

The day, for you, comes exactly seven of them later.

You accompany Steve on his morning run and his routine stop for coffee. You’re not quite sure how he’s still mobile because your muscles are screaming, even after the warm shower you took to soothe them.

You left him alone for all of half a second to use the bathroom while he ordered drinks for him and you, and something extra for Eddie for when the boy decides to roll out of bed.

When you return, you find him bouncing a baby on his hip — a young thing, maybe three if you had to guess, with two buns in her hair like bunny ears and a sparkly pink dress to match the bows she wears in them.

Steve smiles down at her, talking to her in a baby voice and saying something you can’t hear because you’re frozen in place. You resemble him at the grocery store a week ago, when he was thrown into a daydream so suddenly that his body all but shut down.

You look at him now, tickling the baby’s sides just to hear her giggle, and you see him with your firstborn — sleep deprived, covered in spit-up, and still the most beautiful human you’d ever seen.

You have to shake your head to remove the thought before it ruins you entirely.

Freshly jostled from your stupor, you walk over to him. “Steve… Please tell me you didn’t steal someone’s baby.”

He laughs. “What? No! She was just a little fussy, and I offered to take her while her mom looked for something,” the boy explains. You look just behind him to see the woman bent over at one of the smaller tables, sifting vigorously through a large baby bag.

“She doesn’t seem very fussy now,” you observe, eyes flitting between his and the child's and noticing they’ve both got matching grins.

“She doesn’t, does she?” he smiles, softly scratching at her sides again to make her laugh. And she does, most enthusiastically so, tilting her head back and letting the giggles spill from an open mouth.

He turns back to you, with wide eyes and raised brows and a bemused grin. “I like she likes me.”

“Of course, she does,” you scoff. “Babies always like you.”

The mom returns with a snack in hand and a relieved smile. Steve passes the baby back to her with little effort. She whines at the loss of him, though the brightly packaged treat is quick to quell her sorrow.

“Thanks for taking her,” the mother's grateful smile falters with exhaustion. “If I don’t give her the same snack at exactly the same time every day, she tends to go a little nuts.”

Steve tells her that it’s no problem, that he was a part-time babysitter at one point in his life, and that her kid was better than those little shits combined. He censors himself before the swear slips out, though.

You go your separate ways when the barista calls out your drink orders and walk hand in hand back to your place.

“Did you get their names?” you ask him before taking a sip of your latte.

“The mom’s name was Maeve and the kid’s name was Harper—”

“Holy shit,” you mutter.

Steve snaps his head over to you because he thinks you’ve burnt your mouth. Instead, he finds you with a distant smile on your face.

“Those are the cutest names I’ve ever heard. It sounds like something out of a fucking cartoon or something.”

“Yeah…” is all he can say because his mind is preoccupied with a million other thoughts. He doesn’t tell you them, obviously, but you know they’re there. The sly smile pulling at his lips makes it obvious.

“…Why are you looking at me like that.”

“Because I’m totally gonna wear you down,” he grins and brings his coffee to his mouth, sipping through his smirk.

You only scoff in response. “Never.”

┄

It doesn’t take you very long to realize that Steve was right.

You spend the rest of the day thinking about it — about him with a baby and how perfect he'd be as a dad. The thoughts plague you far more than they usually do. They take up the entire frontal cortex of your brain and make it nearly impossible to think about anything else.

You’re self-aware enough to beat yourself up about it.

You were just telling him that it wasn’t time yet, and you knew you were right. As far as you’re concerned, you still have another few good years before you’re ready to even start seriously considering it.

But here you are, having to calm yourself down every time the thought of Steve Harrington with a baby, your baby, crosses your mind.

You wait until the boy heads to bed to talk to Eddie about it. You find him in the kitchen, eating handfuls of Breakfast with Barbie like a maniac. You’re too preoccupied to make a snarky comment about it.

“Steve wasn’t lying,” you warn him.

“..About what?” he wonders through the mouthful.

“About him not waiting ten years to have a baby! He wants one now!” you explain through a yell-whisper hybrid. “And he told me he was going to wear me down, and he was right.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide too, like he’s just learned you caught some sort of plague. You have. It’s called baby fever, and it’s only a matter of time before the entire house is afflicted. “Shit…”

“So you have to be the strong one, Eddie.”

“Oh, god,” he whines with pinched brows. “Why does it have to be me?”

“Because I saw him hold a baby today.”

“…And this is a bad thing?”

“Of course, it’s a bad thing! My hormones went crazy, okay? It’s like my brain stopped functioning, and I started thinking with my ovaries or something! All human instinct told me to lay down and procreate the second we got home!”

Eddie laughs to himself. “Are you sure it was human instinct, or was it just you on a normal Wednesday?”

“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you tell him, a sudden solemnity to your features. “You have to put your foot down whenever Steve talks about it because I will cave.”

“Alright, alright, have some Barbie cereal and settle down,” he tells you with a playful grin.

He offers you the box and you pout for a moment before sticking your hand into it and pulling out several red and purple butterfly pieces.

The boy wraps an arm around you with his free hand. He pulls you closer and noses at the crown of your head. You sigh as you relax into him.

“I’ll take care of it, okay? I actually have the perfect idea.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” you waver through a mouthful of cereal.

“Don’t worry about it,” he lilts with a grin, smacking a kiss to your forehead. “Let me take care of it.”

┄

You and Steve are tangled in bedsheets, both slowly rousing but trying desperately to go back to sleep.

You’re laying on your stomach, face smushed into the pillow you clutch to your head. Steve lays halfway on top of you — his legs knotted with yours, arm splayed over your back, and softly snoring in your ear.

Both of you noticed the lack of Eddie’s presence, but chose not to linger on it too much, figuring he must’ve gone for a breakfast run.

He returns hardly a moment after the thought of him crosses your mind. You hear the door open and shut again, then the shouts of your names entwined with a muffled barking.

You groan at the intrusion on your sleep.

Steve huffs and shifts against you, voice gruff with fatigue as he wonders: “Why do I hear a dog?”

The mixture of confusion and subtle knowing has you both shuffling out of the bedroom and trudging into the living room.

You round the corner and find Eddie standing by the door with a rowdy goldendoodle bouncing at his feet. He’s trying hopelessly to undo its leash when the thing starts to squirm at the sight of you and Steve.

Eddie’s eyes flit to the both of you when he notices you standing across the room. A smile bursts like early morning sunshine on his face. “Surprise!” he beams.

The metal of the leash clicks when he finally gets it unbuckled. The dog dashes your way, all but jumping into Steve and then spinning in circles with excitement as it tries to figure out who to accept attention from.

“You got us a dog?” the boy wonders, head cocked back to dodge the thing as it licks at his chin.

“You said you wanted a baby,” Eddie shrugs. “So, I got you a baby.”

“This is so not what a meant,” the boy grouses in response, though he’s got his arms wrapped around the dog like he’s hugging it. “I mean, it’s not even a baby— it’s huge.”

“The woman at the shelter said he was eight months old. And he is a he, so stop calling him it.”

You crouch beside Steve, scratching the dog behind his ear. He pants with his tongue sticking out, almost looking like he’s smiling. It makes you smile too.

“We don’t even have dog food. Or toys. Or a bed,” you stress. “What are we even gonna name it?”

“Well, I took care of exactly one of those things,” Eddie lilts with a grin. “They only had that gross artificial shit at the grocery store, but they did have some badass collars and an engraving machine, so…”

You and Steve peek through the dog’s golden curls and find a black band with silver spikes dotted around the neck. “Super metal, huh?” you hear himEdiejoke as you reach for the dangled heart pendant handing around the collar.

“…Ozzy?” you recite.

“See what I mean?” he beams. “Metal.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #eddie munson imagine #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #st drabbles #stevie drabble #eddie spaghetti drabble

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artificial-transmutations · 8 months

Text

Your wish is my command

People knew when James approached pretty soon. Even with his 31 years, he still pretty much looked - and behaved - like the popular high school boy he used to be. He was loud, obnoxious and always surrounded by a group of friends - mostly his male buddies, but from time to time also one of his cardboard cutout girlfriends.

With his youthful looks and beautiful face, it wasn't very difficult for him to find a new girl - a fact he well knew and exploited. So, in general, his relationships rarely lasted longer than a few weeks or months until James got tired of his current girlfriend and dumped her for a new one.

Cathrine was one of them, a brunette smart girl who got picked up by James four weeks ago. Even though she quickly fell for him for his good looks and natural charm, she slowly felt annoyed by his constant bragging and immature behavior. However, she had agreed to let the group of friends hang out in her grandmother's antique shop this evening, a decision she started to regret already.

"Hey, look at these things. These are pretty weird, aren't they? What's this even supposed to be?"

"That's a gargoyle. They usually guard churches or the like. Or are supposed to bring luck." Cathrine explained.

"Hah! Bring luck. More like bringing ugliness. How is anyone supposed to see luck in that, huh?" James laughed and prodded the figure.

Catherine grimaced. "Honey, please don't touch anything. I had to promise grandma that nothing would be broken."

"Relax, Cathy, everything's fine! I'm not gonna break anything. Hey, do you think grandma would miss one of her creepy statues?"

"James, please!"

"Okay okay", he joked and looked around the shelves before something caught his eye.

"Hey, guys, check this out!"

He quickly stepped closer and, ignoring Catherines sigh, took the object from the blue pillow it was placed on.

"Cool! Is that a magic lamp, like from Aladdin?" he asked. Really, the brass object looked like a prop from the film. An old-fashioned oil lamp, with an oriental flair to it.

"Please, be careful with that. I don't know much about it, but I know it's an antique and really expensive."

"Yeah, yeah", James waved her off and continued to examine the lamp. By now his friends had gathered around him to watch. Giving them a show, he rubbed the lamp theatrically, but of course, nothing happened. Nevertheless, it brought him cheers and hollers from his buddies.

"The genie is just shy!", one of them joked.

"Oh, a shy one? Perhaps it's a genie lady that just needs some proper motivation?" James immediately agreed.

He raised the lamp to his face and made a kiss-face. "Don't be shy, miss genie! Oh, what is that?"

He held the lamp to his ear as if he was listening to a voice from inside.

"You want me too... what? Oh, you're being naughty miss genie! But I'm not complaining; your wish is my command!"

With that, James lowered the lamp to his groin and held it in front of his package. When he began humping the brass object, his buddies were already laughing tears. Catherine was a little annoyed on how immature James acted but couldn't help but smile as well.

What happened next, however, came as a surprise, not only for James but for Catherine and the guys, too:

In the span of seconds, James' body became engulfed in blue smoke. No, that wasn't exactly right: A more precise description was that James' body *became* blue smoke. It began at his hands, holding the lamp and quickly spread up his arms. The brass oil lamp fell to the ground as the blue smoke that had once been James' hands had not enough substance anymore to hold it.

But even dropping the item didn't stop the process. His entire upper body was turning into the ethereal blue smoke.

"Guys... Guys! What's happening?", he yelled out, but his buddies had no idea either. They were watching, perplexed, as James' body began dissolving. After a few moments, only smoke remained where moments before, James had been standing. Then, suddenly, the smoke was being sucked into the lamp, leaving James' friends and girlfriend behind in shock.

James found himself floating in twilight. He had been caught completely off-guard by his body dissolving into smoke, and he didn't have time to react or run away then. Now there was just... nothing around him. Gray twilight, and apparently no gravity surrounded him. There was some sort of light and air, but this world he now floated in lacked any point of reference whatsoever.

James checked his body, but apparently, it was alright. No sign of the blue smoke, just his regular body was hanging suspended in nothingness.

"Hello? Guys?", he tried, but nobody answered.

"Guys! Where are you?", he shouted out again, but the gray space just swallowed his words.

Suddenly, a tingling feeling ran over his body. When he looked down again, he noticed his clothes one by one fading away, until all that was left on him was his pair of underwear.

"What the fuck is happening to me?", he mumbled, a bit panicked.

The strange feeling he had only intensified however, as his very body was changing - again. However, this time, it didn't dissolve into smoke. Instead, it felt like his skin was stretching - or rather, the amount of his body was stretching. His limbs were growing and thickening, while his torso widened. At the same time, his skin became darker, reminding him more and more of a middle eastern heritage rather than his usual fair complexion.

His chest and arms ballooned out with muscle. It wasn't like he had been skinny or scrawny before - but now he didn't just look fit - he began to look more and more like a sort of body builder - one of those muscle bulls you only saw in TV or in the gym. His six-pack was becoming more visible, and his shoulders stretched wide and broad.

His legs, too, thickened and swelled, but that wasn't all. His thighs grew not just wide, but thick as well, and his calves became almost disproportionately large. Above all else, hair began to spread on his now darker skin. But it wasn't the blonde hair James was used to having on his head - it was coarse and thick hair that was dark and clearly visible on his muscular chest and arms.

At the same time, his haircut changed. While the hair on his head turned black as well, it became stylish, yet unlike anything James had tried before. The sides buzzed short and the top gelled up, he was beginning to look more and more like a young Arab hunk, perhaps from the Iran. As if on cue, dark stubble set in and covered his chin that was becoming squarer by the minute. James didn't have a mirror, but his fingers were exploring his new facial features in disbelief. As a final treat, his boxer shorts morphed into a tight pair of a simple blue fabric underwear that filled out as his manhood began to take more and more place, leaving behind his previous pretty average bulge and settling on a huge, almost obscene size.

The changes had finally stopped and James found himself suspended in the gray, twilight world, confused, scared, and sporting a very new look. He had never thought of himself as attractive before, but the changes he had just gone through had made him a prime stud.

However, he hardly had time to react, as he felt a pulling sensation all through his being. The scenery changed and he found himself back in the shop - but now, he was somehow floating a bit off the ground and looked down to one of his buddies, Greg, who held the lamp in his hand and had apparently just rubbed it.

"Whoa!", Greg exclaimed. "Who are you?"

"Guys, it's me, James!" James answered. "I somehow got sucked into the lamp thing and now your wish is my command, master."

A moment of silence followed and James realized what he just said. Despite his impressive muscular new body, the last words, which he had not meant to say at all, had sounded respectful and submissive.

"What is this bullshit? Who are you and what are you talking about?" Greg asked.

"I'm... I'm James" James stuttered. "And, apparently, your wish is my command. Just say 'I wish' and I will make your heart’s desire come true."

Again, James had only partial control over what he was saying. The last part had come out without him meaning to.

Greg was taken aback somewhat. "I wish...? I dunno. You're pretty gay like that!"

James only realized what was happening as he felt a mighty surge of power move through his body and heard himself say: "And so it shall be."

Did Greg just wish for James to be gay?! Luckily nothing seemed to be happening, until all heads turned as Catherine exhaled a low surprised moan.

James watched in horror as now her body was changing. Her breast flattened in a matter of seconds and her hair shortened to a stylish men's cut. At the same time, her body widened and her shoulders became broad. Her skin became rougher and little hairs spread all over her body. By the moment, her clothes were becoming too tight on a lot of places and too loose on some others. Catherine's face became a masculine version of itself, just like it would look like if she had been born a boy. Her nose was now strong and prominent, and her jawline was becoming stronger. Her face, too, was covered with a dark stubble that continued down her neck a bit before stopping at about where her now pronounced Adam's apple sat. When she let out another shocked noise, it was at least an octave lower than before.

Her new lean masculine look was completed by a bulge in her pants that quickly filled out with the last part of her new distinctively male anatomy.

At first, James had hated to watch Catherine's... No, Kit's feminine features melt away like that. But the longer he watched the better Kit looked, James decided. When his new cock popped into existence, James even felt himself get a bit hard from watching his lover. Kit was his soulmate, his one true love. James didn't care how gay it was - he liked men - and this man especially.

He turned back to Greg with mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was happy about having Kit, but on the other hand, he was horrified about what was happening to him. He needed to beg him to stop!

But instead, all that came out was: "You have two wishes left, master."

Check out this awesome writer as well!

If you like my stories, you can use my riot page as a tip jar. There will only be tiny bits of exclusive content there, though, so it's mainly just that - a tip jar :)

#male transformation #straight to gay #muscle transformation #racial transformation

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oh-stars · 2 months

Text

On a Limb

Love is saying "I love you" even when you're scared

a @steddielovemonth prompt | 2047 words | CW: N/A | Rating: T

“You don’t even know if she likes girls,” Robin says, stacking the tapes with a little more force than necessary.

Steve swipes his hand along the counter, smearing the cleaner across the plastic-like surface. “It’s a gut instinct! And the boobies–”

“Don’t even start with the boobies,” Robin huffs. She turns completely away from him then, pushing the cart toward the stacks. Steve can’t see well enough with the lights dimmed, and thanks to corporate controlling the lights now, they turn off half at exactly closing time. Which means Robin reshelves and straightens up the stacks while Steve counts the tills (thanks to the counter having the most light left) and cleans the remainder of the store. It’s a win-win. It also means it’s easier for Robin to ignore him.

“C’mon,” Steve says, spraying the counter aggressively over a melted lollipop. “It’s a good theory!”

“A theory!” She practically shouts, turning on her heel to look at him. The tapes she’s holding knock into the shelves as she waves them about with her words. “It’s just a theory, Steve! I’m not about to become the town pariah over a theory!”

“Eddie says it’s not so bad being a pariah,” Steve adds. “People leave him alone and he can do whatever he wants–”

“You and I both know that’s a load of horse shit, Steve,” Robin says, and while he can’t see it clearly he knows the face she’s making at him. The one that tells him she’s had enough of the teasing and the games, that she knows Steve’s being an idiot on purpose right now. “He’s purposely hiding all the threats on his life from you, dingus.”

Steve pauses. Threats? He abandons the rag and pushes himself away from the counter to lean against the one closest to her, draping himself along the freshly cleaned surface. “He’s getting threats?”

He can hear the eyeroll. “Steve,” she says with the rest of her patience, “he’s been accused of murdering some of Hawkins’ brightest and starting a cult from the drama room in the high school. Do you really think that these ignorant assholes think he’s allowed to just walk around and coexist with their children? That they aren’t clutching their pearls and pointing their little witch fingers at him?”

Robin walks back up to the counter and mirrors him, faces too close. “He knows how much you want to protect him, so he’s keeping it from you so you don’t worry.”

“But I always worry,” he counters.

“I know this,” Robin says, “but I don’t think Eddie’s allowed himself to consider that he is, in fact, in your ‘inner circle’ as he put it.” She sighs and bumps their heads together like a cat. “You mean well, I know you do, but I can’t risk dealing with the consequences of people finding out on a hunch,” she whispers.

Steve presses his temple against hers. “It’s more than a hunch,” he promises. “I see the way she looks at you. Vickie turns into a completely different–”

Robin covers his hand with hers. “Stop. I love you, but I have to make this decision. This isn’t like you asking out a girl, it’s just not the same no matter how much you want it to be. And that’s not… It’s not something you can really understand until you’re experiencing it. I love how much you’re trying, it means a lot, but I need to do this on my own and until I find out she actually likes girls, I’m not doing anything.”

He listens, because of course he does, but he doesn’t stop thinking about it. As Robin goes back to the cart, shuffling the crinkling VHS boxes into alphabetical order, Steve finishes up at the counter. He can barely see her when he moves on to vacuuming, but it’s for the best. He doesn’t want to see her sad, accepting smile right now.

It just… it sucks watching her accept that she’ll never find love because Vickie had a boyfriend – who she dumped three months ago, mind you – and she can’t see how much Vickie is trying to catch her eye. Steve knows how to tell when someone is attracted to you, when they’re trying to get you to notice them or make a move and she’s doing all of it.

Just like Steve is with Eddie.

He hasn’t talked to Robin about… that development yet. It’s been something he’s been working through since spring break, the warm and fuzzies Eddie gives him. At first, he thought it was something to do with saving Eddie’s life, of almost losing him all together, but when those feelings only grew with each smoke session and long car rides… He had to come clean with himself.

It’s been months and Steve’s a mess trying to figure Eddie out, though.

Eddie’s as clingy as Steve is, they spend nearly all of their free time together, with Robin and Dustin mixed in there too. Eddie makes an effort to learn about Steve’s interests, whether it be learning the lyrics to his favorite albums, listening to the gossip Steve spouts (both local and from pop culture), or going as far as watching and, dare Steve say, playing the occasional game of basketball. And Steve is doing the same, mind you, listening to Eddie’s mixtapes and learning what different terminology means for music and D&D. They watch artsy horror movies and Steve’s reading more, even if it feels impossible, just so they have more to talk about.

At a certain point, it goes above and beyond normal friendship sacrifices.

Steve sees the way Eddie holds himself around Steve versus Robin, too. With Robin, he’ll touch and hang all over her with reckless abandon, while still being respectful, but with Steve, there’s always a little hesitation and tension with his movements. Like he’s waiting for Steve to react negatively.

There’s just… a wall between them, no matter how much Steve tries to tear it down.

And he has a feeling that the wall Eddie’s put up is a lot like his own, that blocks anyone from seeing how deep his feelings for Eddie really goes.

Steve looks over to where Robin’s made her way around most of the store. She looks sad, even as she bobs her head to something he can’t hear and her hands move deftly along the tapes. She’s lost in her head over Vickie, something she probably didn’t want to talk about and Steve had needled his way into the conversation. He just wants her to be happy, is all.

But how can he expect her to take a risk and put herself out there if he’s being a coward too?

He wraps the cord of the vacuum up as tightly as he can, tucking the machine back into the closet. There’s still more to clean but they’re opening tomorrow anyway, who cares if they didn’t dust the shelves for one night. “Robbie,” Steve calls softly.

She hums, not looking up from the foreign language movies she’s reorganizing.

Steve moves to sit beside her, knees overlapping. He can’t read the titles, wouldn’t be much help even with the lights, but he can keep her company until she’s done. “I think I know how you feel,” he says slowly, “because I feel that too. With, um.” He clears his throat.

Robin turns fully to him and in the dim light, Steve can see the way her eyes are bright with curiosity and her brow knits in confusion. “With?” she prompts softly.

“I love Eddie.” There’s no ‘I think’ or ‘maybe’ about it. He knows he loves him, and would do anything for him. No matter the risk. Steve just wants Eddie in his life and he has a feeling that Eddie, even if Steve’s totally wrong about sharing the same romantic feelings, would never hate him for having said feelings. But he’ll never know unless he does something about it.

“I love him, too–”

“No,” Steve says, taking Robin’s hand, “I’m in love with Eddie.”

He hears the little gasp she tries to conceal. “But he’s so muppety.”

“Like you have room to talk.”

“Yeah, but Tammy’s a Miss Piggy while Eddie’s a Fozzie Bear–”

“He’s not Fozzie!”

“Oh no, my apologies,” Robin says, sitting up as she puts a hand to her chest. “He’s like you stuffed Animal into Fozzie–”

Steve laughs, pushing at her shoulder. “Will you stop?”

Robin shrugs, but she’s just as giggly. “How long have you known?”

“I think for a while,” he admits, “but I wasn’t sure until a few weeks ago.”

She hums again as she takes his hand. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m scared,” he whispers, “but I also know I can’t… I can’t stand to live without him, but I need to tell him how I feel. I don’t want to harbor these feelings until I die.”

“Are you just saying this so I ask out Vickie?”

“Sort of.” He shrugs. “But I want this, too.”

Robin smiles at him.

They gather their things and head out of Family Video, with Robin locking the door behind them. “When are you telling him?” Robin asks as they climb into the Beemer.

“Tonight– Ow!” Steve rubs at his arm where Robin’s hand slapped at his bare skin. “The hell was that for?”

“You just came out to me, admitted you’re in love with Eddie Munson, and now you’re just going to walk over there and confess your feelings?”

Well. Yeah?

It must say it on his face since she throws her hands up and mumbles, “Unbelievable.”

“What?”

“Nothing!” she huffs. “I love you, Steve, but god, the unwavering confidence of a man is unfathomable.” Robin crosses her arms and slouches in her seat. She pouts until he turns on her street, then she pops up and turns to him. “You will report to me immediately tomorrow morning over pancakes with extra strawberries and whipped cream every single detail of how it goes down. Understood?”

“I could just call you tonight–”

“No,” she says, unbuckling, “you’ll be too busy swapping spit with Munson and I’m not staying up until you come up for air. We have to work in the morning and if we’re getting breakfast before, we have to be up extra early. And unlike you, I won’t have the lovey dovey high you’ll have tomorrow to get me through the slog.”

Steve can only laugh. “Yeah, okay.”

She pauses once she’s outside of the car and motions for him to roll down her window. He does, only for her to hug him through the space. “Call if it doesn’t go well, though. I’ll keep my window unlocked.”

“Love you, Rob.”

“Love you too, dingus.”

They say their goodbyes and then Steve’s off, driving to Forest Hills to do exactly that. It hits him as he parks outside of the trailer, watching Eddie’s shadow in the curtains, what he’s about to do. But Robin’s waiting on an answer and Steve wasn’t lying when he said he couldn’t keep on like this.

He turns the ignition off and climbs out of the Beemer on shaky legs. He can do this.

Steve doesn’t get a chance to knock before Eddie’s popping his head out, grinning as he takes in Steve. Even though his stomach feels like it’s reached Vecna’s corpse in the Upside Down, his heart’s racing faster than a hummingbird as he meets Eddie’s eyes. This could go horribly, he could lose Eddie forever and he’ll be destined to live alone with only Robin as they escape from town to town like the FBI’s Most Wanted, never allowed to settle.

He takes in a deep breath and holds it.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, opening the door wider.

“I’m in love with you,” he says on his exhale. “I don’t need you to love me back, but I need you to know,” he adds just as breathless.

Eddie’s face falls for all of two seconds before his grin comes back twice as strong. He reaches out and grabs Steve by the shirt collar, dragging him in swiftly just to slam him against the door. Steve doesn’t get a chance to question if he’s about to be hit when Eddie’s lips are on his.

Thank you @lady-lostmind!

Ao3 Link

#ohstars fic #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #ohstars posting challenge #platonic stobin #robin buckley

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pitifulbaby · 1 year

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the library

summary: sneaking into the library would’ve been fine if someone didn’t get distracted.

pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

warnings: nothing sexual happens but it is heavily implied.

a/n: this is based off this post but i changed up some things of course, i dont know if i like this or not but i am not gonna dwell on that right now. i hope you enjoy! 1.2k words

stranger things masterlist

You knew it was a bad idea, sneaking into the library right before closing. But Eddie Munson was persistent, and when he has a plan he sticks to it. Especially his list, his ‘Things To Do this Summer’ list. Which is his specially handcrafted list of- like stated, things to do this summer.

It consisted of you- because of course he wants to do you in different places. Drive out to California and say out there for a few weeks, try different foods- the list goes on.

This was Eddie's first summer since he finally graduated high school, he wanted to use it to do some of the things he hasn’t been able to do in previous years, saving up money and letting himself have the summer to live. But right now he was trying to tackle the ‘things to do this summer; places to do the do in’ section of his list, which was a very long section.

So that's where it leads you to, hiding away deep in the public library as they close up for the night, stifling giggles as the librarian passes you two by and never notices either of you. How she doesn’t see either of you is a little odd- but you chalked it up to her older age and withering eyesight that was trying to be fixed by her thick glasses, plus the long hours of work.

The front doors close, echoing through the building. You two were lucky that they kept a few overhead lights on- or perhaps they were left on accidentally. But no matter, you two were finally alone and Eddie lets his laughter bubble out, slipping out of his hiding spot and dragging you with him. “Part one of the plan? Done.” Eddie speaks, his smile wide as he pulls you close to him.

With a playful roll of your eyes and shake of your head you press your hand against his chest, taking a step back from him. His once bright smile turns into a pout, watching as you pivot away from him and wander off, hips swaying in a tease as you venture off down one of the aisles of bookshelves. You let your gaze wander the books, eyes scanning the spines.

Soon enough a set of hands are turning you around, pressing you against the shelves. Eddie places one hand on your waist and the other on the side of your face, pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. You find yourself humming against his lips, your own hands trailing up to rest at the nape of his neck, lacing your fingers through his dark locks.

Eddie pulls away only a bit before he is pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth and trailing down to your neck. It doesn’t take him long to press his lips to your sweet spot, gently sucking and nibbling your skin. He lets one of his knees move to wedge between your knees, pulling you in close.

But soon he is letting out a gasp, his arm curling around your waist and pulling you into him and taking a step back. Your eyes widen, hands moving from his hair to grab his shoulders in shock. “What?” You hiss out in surprise. Eddie holds you against his side, your chest pressed tight against him with his arm around you. His eyes are wide as an excited grin stretches across his face, his teeth fully on display. You follow his line of sight just as he reaches forward with his free hand, wrapping his ringed fingers around the spine of a book and pulling it to his chest.

“Am I-” You stop mid sentence, holding back a laugh, “Am I being cockblocked by a book?” You question, leaning your cheek against his shoulder and looking down at the book in his hand. “You know how long I have been waiting for this book to be put back? Someone must’ve had this bad boy in their possession for months!” He exclaims, waving the book with his words.

He notices you trying to catch a glimpse of the book he is now waving around, stilling the motion and holding it up in front of you. It by Stephen King is grasped between his fingers, letting out a small laugh in excitement. “I’ve been wanting to read it since it came out but it's hard to find.” He explains. You tilt your head up to look at him, and you feel your heart melt at the boyish wonder in his eyes as he stares down at the book.

Eddie soon is pulling you around, sitting down with his back to the wall, legs spread and pulling you to his chest. With a hum you let yourself curl up against him, looking at the book. “How many pages is it?” You ask him, one of your hands resting on his ripped jean clad thigh. “Uh-” he flips the book open to the last page, eyes focused solely on the bottom of the page. “1,181.” He states, flipping the book back.

“So, what's the new plan gonna be?” You question him, he lets out a small laugh, pressing a kiss against your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder. “Well, I was thinking- I could read a few pages, see if I like it and then I will decide if I want to borrow the book.” He says. Your brows furrow at that, “Borrow?”

He lets out a fake groan, letting his fingers bite into your sides, which in turn causes you to let out a laugh, shimmying in his hold to try and get him to stop. “What’s with you and asking me all these questions? Huh?” He stops his attack, “Borrow, you know-.. Take it without checking it out or buying it.” He says nonchalantly, which causes your brows to raise as you turn around to sit in front of him. Eddie stares at you with a big smile, leaning back against the wall, book next to him.

“Borrowing implies that you would give it back, something tells me that you wouldn’t give it back.” You squint, crossing your arms over your chest. He simply lifts one shoulder in a shrug, “I have brought this establishment a lot of business! Think of it as a thank you gift.” But you don’t budge, arching a brow at him.

“I will eat you out right now if you let me take this home.” He says after a moment. “Deal.” You say before putting your hand out in front of yourself for a handshake. Eddie laughs before grasping your hand in his and giving your hand a firm shake.

“Why are you treating this like a business deal? You know I'd eat you out no matter what, I enjoy it just as much as you.” He whispers, letting go of your hand before he is crashing his lips to yours.

Eddie soon realizes he has to add a new section to his list, ‘things to do this summer; places to eat her out at.’ But he might need to extend his list from just the summer into however long it will take him, because the sections are getting too long for just the summer. But that's okay, he got his book plus he was able to knock two things off his list.

And well, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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anaalnathrakhs · 28 days

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it fucking breaks my heart i've been killing myself for months trying to repair my relationship w my parents and the three of us are just fucking deficient human beings. we're incapable of changing we're fucking incapable of it there's no going back everything was set from the moment i was born. they never should've had a child, but what the fuck could i blame on them? once the kid is here you just do your best you can't just decide it was a bad idea and get rid of it. they did their best. there's no good way to deal with a fucked up child. but holy fuck i wish i wasnt just idk born wrong. i wish life didn't suck and wasn't so hard. i wish when my mom said she'd take more time for family and relaxing she didn't go back to working until 8pm at least every day in the following month, but there's realities pushing her to. i wish when we saw each other we had things to do rather than just stare at each other awkwardly. i can't ever do anything because everything impacts my parents. and god knows i owe them to stop impacting them so much i did enough shit already. i can't enjoy a trip out with them because then we go home and it's MORE incredibly unsatisfactory socializing and forced eating lest they look at me like a monster. i can't leave because then it's WE leave not I leave. i can't just live my life after school because i have to be back to have the terrible binge-inducing dinner with them else i'm a fucking monster who makes them stay awake and worry at night. i have to make them aware of my every move because else they're gonna worry, i can't do that to them i have no valid reason to. i can't ever relax. i have no safe place anymore. there's always food in the house, we always have to go grocery shopping the same day and fill up the pantry. i can't buy anything substantial or component of a "normal" meal because then they just sit there while my mom never uses them despite knowing about them the whole time. there's been bricks of soup in the pantry for like two months she hasn't even MENTIONNED CONSIDERING THEM for the whole time. we bought, and i mean WE bought, WE took a couple canned vegetables from the shelves and we said good idea and we put them in the cart, and then she NEVER used them until i desperately broke the agreement that i was not to have control over what's for dinner and suggested we could perhaps maybe eat the food we had bought to eat, and she was like yeah sure great idea! we ate one can, and then for WEEKS afterwards we still don't touch any of the other cans. she keeps adding and adding and adding a billion things to every meal it makes me wanna rope. she keeps putting huge slabs of butter in pasta MOTHER it tastes the same except it's gross and five billion calories now can you stop doing that thanks. i've had my parents pretty much at my will for many many things all of my life, because they're completely floating in the meaningless void on what it means to be a parent, and it's just not healthy in ways i cannot possibly wholly imagine, and now we're stuck in some sort of circle that if i don't DEMAND something it's like i never said anything. but i can't DEMAND things because that is not a control a kid should have over their own parents and there's no nuance of possible things it's either they'll bend over backwards for even the most ill-advised demand or they will not budge an inch for the most structured three-parted argument doubled with the plead of my failing mental health even if it has demonstrably not worked before, and i certainly do not want to have a relationship with ANYONE where they feel forced to act a certain way because of me. and it's been so weird having developped this kind of very marked independance on like, DRIVE, while i was a neet, that now that i'm older and more legitimate to slowly leave the nest it feels incredibly weird and bad to entrap myself more closely instead.

so i keep trying to give them the elements of what consequences this or that thing has on me, and letting them evaluate themselves what they value, and so far the result has been that they don't give a shit about making me suffer, and they're completely cool with watching me act like i'm coked up in public bc i'm in pain or about to jump out of my skin in fearful anticipation of the next meal. i can handle myself all day and literally just ramble a little under my breath when we're going home at 9pm because it helps with the pain, and they're like "WHAT NOW we say something and you start sighing, what the hell did we do wrong this time??" which i guess is their genuine answer to the situation so i got what i wanted, i didn't control their reactions, but i guess it's pretty disappointing anyway.

and i can't really tell them because hey, how is that conversation gonna go? mom, dad, living with you is unbearable, all of my life you've done nothing but hurt me despite your best loving intentions, and i honestly don't think we're ever gonna fully repair that. cheers. i can't fucking do that to them. i've been the worst child to deal with my entire life i can't do that i just have to hold on until i move out anyway. it itches SO BAD to hurt them to blame them to throw every nasty thing i've ever wanted to yell at them to push them down the stairs and run away in the middle of the night. but i can't because they've done their best. genuinely. i wouldn't have handled it better if i had to parent kid-me. i don't think there's any right answer to a situation like that. i just can't wait until i can live for myself and not for walking around eggshells being the normal kid my parents never got to have now that i can force myself to. it feels like i try my best to give them respect and foster a good mutually-trusting relationship with them, and they don't give back anything different in return. and i do think part of that is that i'm WAAAAAY too in my own head about it and i have massive "nobody is allowed in the kitchen when i'm there" syndrome except my entire existence is the kitchen and anything i do besides "staying the usual unshowered neet disappointment in my room" being seen by my parents feels to me like if walking around naked in public. like how people ask out as a joke, like HA you really believe you could be more than a depressed piece of shit, but you're really nothing more than a pathetic failure barely keeping up the mask of a normal person. and that is totally my responsability to deal with except idk seems like every time i step out it turns out to be a disaster. and the coming down is even harsher, having to turn back into some featureless zombie picking and choosing what interests are undisruptive and inoffensive enough for me to tell my parents about it. i havent even managed to try to get into a sport club because the thought of my parents knowing this and that about my schedule and knowing i do sports and what sports i do and perhaps asking about it just makes my skin crawl. and i can't be spending their money, and i don't have a job, so.

they wont leave me the hell alone, and i can't refuse else i just become defined by my avoidance of them. it's rotting in my bed without any of the recharging. i don't fucking want to eat dinner with them, but else WHAT DO I DO? the kitchen is upstairs, upstairs is where they are, especially during dinner time but also they can hear i'm there if they're awake at home. and i owe them to spend that time bonding w them since we never did, and it's pretty much the only time my mom is home. i don't want to go with them to random events i don't really care about, because they're unenjoyable anyway since they're followed by MORE proximity and shit, but i kinda have to because i owe them that after i was nothing but a fucking emotional leech for my entire life, and also if i don't go to these events with them i go NOWHERE, cf the problem with my parents seeing anything about me mentionned above.

you might notice i've been saying "they" the whole time, rest assured, i mean my mom, or the united parental authority driven by my mom. i barely even have a dad anyway, i have a guy who lives in the same house and comes when my mom calls family reunion time, but spends his entire time every day following his own intellectual pursuits while floating through every actualy physical situation he's in. he barely listens. he barely reacts. he's not stupid or wholly incompetent, he functions alone pretty well, but in most situations in life he just stands to the side and goes "damn" whenever anything would require a reaction. i'm not really sure he fully realizes (or cares) that his actions impact other people. it scares me to be like him. i know how similar i am to him, and i really really hope i don't end up hurting anyone by being like that.

#vent #ed tw #broadcasting my misery #i can't stand not posting this bc i am fucking STARVED for feeling seen and understood #but dw guys it's cool if you have something to say but don't feel obligated it's already nice to know that hypothetically this is being rea #genuinely it does help #just knowing someone COULD read this #im going to try to find compromises and make this shit easier on both me and my parents #i swear #but i needed to vent

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chiomaus · 3 months

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reflections

less than one week now until i move into my flat. the referencing got approved yesterday (thank god). there were no reasons it shouldn't get approved but it was still a constant low-level of stress that really wore me down.

going through all my belongings, in particular the little things i brought back from germany last year and had tactically hidden away, has left me feeling a little pensive. i think what i'm most sad about is that i can't enjoy my memories of that time. i can't even look at my photos – even the ones without people in them – which kinda sucks.

i know i will be able to enjoy those memories eventually and that's also why made a point not to throw anything away. one day it will be a time of my life that i can look back on fondly even if it didn't end well. and it's also why i want to go back to germany on my own. i want to make my own memories and i want to prove to myself i can do it on my own.

in other more boring news: i've ordered all the "essentials" i need for the move. nice cookware, toaster, kettle, etc. i'm determined not to live like a student again. i want to surround myself with nice things, whether those be new or second-hand. unfortunately this means that i will have no furniture outside of what i currently have at home, which is: a desk, a bed, 2x sets of shelves.

i'd rather be thinking about what cool art i can put up on the walls and what stylish furniture i can find, but once i'm moved in my immediate concerns will be a washing machine, microwave and sofa. the washing machine sucks big time because it's such a boring but such an EXPENSIVE appliance. and sadly i promised the lettings agents three months rent up front to secure the flat (trying to look on the bright-side of this one as "i won't have to pay rent for three months").

overall i am feeling really positive about the move and i am excited, but right now i am just feeling pretty stressed and tired all the time. i don't have a lot of mental space OR physical space, because there are boxes everywhere. it's manageable because i pretty much have a STOP BEING STRESSED date for next friday. all my stuff will still be in boxes but it will be spread around 61 square meters of space rather than a single room (it's only a 1 bed flat, but it feels so BIG).

i'm also staying positive by thinking about my plans for this year. the main one and the one i am most excited for is our international friend group meet up, with people (hopefully) travelling from the US, norway and germany (and a few hours away in england). most are people i got the meet last year but there are a few new faces i am really excited to meet in person.

planning for my cologne trip can recommence once i am moved. i didn't like having to pause that one because it was a really nice distraction when i was busy being sad. i will probably go in either spring or autumn – whenever is outside the school holidays. this will be the first time i've ever gone on holiday by myself. also debating doing a long weekend or something just to visit the christmas markets, by which point i should be B1 level or even B2.

my nephew is due any day now and i'm excited to be an aunt. hopefully i can take a trip to visit at some point. there will also be my brother's wedding later this year. in general, i do like weddings, but it's not going to live up to last year's poland wedding or my friends' wedding.

been trying to write this post for a while now and i just finally found the (many) words. anyway, that's where i am at the moment.

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edith-is-a-cat · 7 days

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OMG!! i love crystals so muchhhhh that's got such a good vibe you captured me perfectly :D

i also love minecraft foxes especially the Rotund Ones in that one mod. i'm so excited to see more arctic foxes in game because those are my favorite :) i would keep your netherite sword safe!!!

also dw i'm not worried :3 i don't mind anxiety, i have it myself. i'm not the most social person in the world but online i tend to be more outgoing. i'm kinda getting back into the tumblr scene after a year or two of neglecting it so i'm a little anxious here and there too lolol. patting your head! don't drink too much energy stuff~

in return, i am telling you to look up blue tiger's eye crystals, since you seem to like blue and you are also a cat. :) they have really cool banding and it's so reflective and pretty. one of my favorite crystals.

THE NOISE I MADE I LOVE READING LONG ASK THEY ARE SO SWEET 💕 (My older sibling made a noise back at me from downstairs 😭)

RAH SINCE I WAS REMINDED I MUST SHARE THW RANDOM CRYSTALS I KEEP IN MY ROOM AND BATHROOM (with many sea shells too)

yes all the photos have flash on because im a "one of those creatures who've evolved to spend their entire existence in a pitch black cave that's closed off from the world" (direct quote from my friend) an i never have any lights on i just run into things

WUGH WHAT MOD EXACTLY??? IM GOING TO WRITE IT DOWN AND HOPEFULLY USE IT ONE DAY!! (I haven't gotten minecraft on my pc yet, ive wanted to mod minecraft for a while but couldn't bc forever on an ipad, but i have modded stardew valley and it wasn't as scary as I thought it was! Now i can live happily with my 6 wives!! Plus ive been wanting to mod Deltarune for the Ribbit mod! but its more scary and complicated since there isn't as big of a modding community around it, ill figure it out though!!!)

also if u were like a little fox in minecraft i would give you a special nametag using my magic §!! (you can get that symbol by holding down &!! idk if your keyboard is the same but that how i get it!! It changes the text color depending on what letter you put by it!!!) Also i would construct you the best enclosure ever (or just plant a forest!!)

WUGH SO REAL if real life was like being online everything would be so cool (and maybe suck a bit more?? people get more voiced online for better and for worse ;~;)

+ I got back into tumblr like!!! October 2022, well i was never really into it but I did have my first blog that i never really did anything with (its now my reblog account)

also on the energy drink note my chem teacher said i had a problem 😭 (I dont!!! I exist like a month without any!! (I love her i showed her my can locker where i had filled my school locker with energy drink cans and shes just like "cool bud" SHE ALSO WAS ONE OF THE TWO TEACHERS TO ASK FOR OUT PREFERRED NAMES I LOVE HER))

On the blue tiger's eye note!!!! Yes. please. give. I need them i have so many things to decorate!!!! I need to put up shelves around my bed so i can look at my random stuff i adore!!!!! (the only thing i have up on my wall is something i drew for my art class and my Undertale heart locket aka one of my most prized possessions... sadly the the music box in it doesn't work anymore i played it so often, cries, it broke when i was trying to wind it for the little kids at my old school)

OKAY DID NOT KNOW I COULD TALK SO MUCH!!! DJFJDB

#silly little bear answers :]#this is very much how i speak irl surprisingly

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chaseadrian · 2 years

Note

"you've never kissed anybody before?" with the one and only steve 'the hair' harrington 🤘😫

hi <33 hope u like!

steve harrington/f!reader 943 words an. they don't kiss but maybe i'd be down to write a part 2 at some point

You almost didn't take the job. Robin had to plead and prod when you came back into town after one semester at a shit college with shit professors and a shit roommate. You'd been slumped on the couch for weeks, no direction, no motivation, feeling like you'd been chewed up and spit out by the world in a matter of months. And then someone got fired from the Family Video for spending a bit too much of their shift behind the curtain in the adult section.

Working with Steve seemed like a nightmare, despite all of Robin's exclamations that he'd changed since high school and was a better dude now and okay yes, she'd admit maybe he flirted a bit too much with the girls that walked into the store but he wasn't mean anymore.

So you took the job.

Robin was great, always had been, always would be, but she couldn't bridge the gap between you and Steve.

Until the night she'd called out of work for food poisoning, leaving the two of you to close up shop alone.

Steve was taking his sweet time restocking the shelves while you worked on a new window display. Standups of Keifer Sutherland and Jason Patric flanked you as you threw fake fangs and rubber pools of blood on the shelf between shiny new VHS tapes.

"So you going back to college next year?" Steve asked, breaking the usual silence that lingered when you and Steve were without Robin.

"Dunno." You shrugged, groaning as a blood pool dropped to the floor with a splat. It had hair and crumbs stuck to it when you picked it up, carrying it with an outstretched arm to the bathroom sink.

"Gross." Steve followed, leaning in the doorway of the bathroom with his arms crossed, "Just throw it in the trash."

You looked up at him from the mirror, "This was the only medium sized piece, it'll balance out the whole display."

He rolled his eyes, "Sure. Anyway, tell me more about college."

Drying the rubber off with paper towels, you turned your head to him with furrowed brows and a frown, "What?"

"Well, I mean I thought I'd get the scoop when Robin graduated but she's at community, not much night life at a college half comprised of senior citizens. So?"

"So, what?"

"So, anything! I am wasting away here in Hawkins, gotta have something to look forward to when I finally get my shit together. Sooner or later..." He trailed off, pursing his lips and following when you pushed past him back into the lobby over to the display, kneeling in front of the shelf.

"Uhh, it sucked, I guess. Hard classes, mean professors."

"Yeah yeah yeah school's shit, we knew that, but did you at least get a feel for that great 'college experience' everyone freaks out about? Tube topped babes, dudes headbutting each other over beer, people passing out on the frat lawns."

You looked up at him with squinting eyes, "Have you seen any movies other than Animal House?"

"What's that?"

"It's a—" You paused, "We literally work at a video store. Rent it. Either way the party scene wasn't really my thing."

"Seriously. Not a single one? No dudes whose names you didn't remember in the morning? Nothing?"

You shrugged with a frown, eyebrows raised, "What can I say? You knew me in high school, did you ever see me at parties? Did you ever invite me to parties?"

He smiled and started to rebut, "Well I—"

His brain kicked in and he thought for a moment, "No."

You turned back to the display, pulling candy bars from a box and setting them on the shelf, "Exactly. Not a liplock in high school, and the tradition continues in college. Well, the six months I was there."

He crouched down to meet your height, "Wait wait wait. You've never kissed anybody before?"

You didn't look at him, didn't indicate you'd heard what he'd said at all other than a short shake of your head.

"Like not even a nervous spin the bottle seven minutes in heaven my-upper-lip-is-way-too-sweaty-to-kiss-you-right-now-but-here-goes-nothing peck?" He gestured with his hands, forearms resting on his knees, voice laden with a tone that said he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Nope."

"Huh." He stared at the carpet.

"Like that's so hard to believe. I had exactly one friend in high school."

"W—well I just thought you band geeks all intermingled."

"I wasn't in ban—" You reevaluated the entire conversation, setting the last chocolate bar down and standing up with the box, "You know, why am I even talking to you about this? You had your first kiss at what like, two years old?"

Steve matched you, a smile on his lips, "Actually, I was one. My grandma couldn't keep those purple-lipstick laden lips off me."

You stared at him, and he reached forward to grab the box from you, ripping the bottom and flattening it into a sheet of cardboard.

"There's a framed photo of me with old lady lip prints right by the front door."

That earned a laugh, and his eyes flicked around your face.

"Didn't mean to pry, I know the only common denominator we have is Robin so I barely have any right to ask you shit like that. Sorry." He offered, reaching a hand out.

You took it, accepting his truce with a shake, "I appreciate it."

"Friends?" He gave you a half smile.

You pulled the corner of your mouth down, "Ehh."

"Acquaintances with the potential for friendship?"

"That's more like it."

He slapped your shoulder, "I'll take it."

Maybe Robin was right after all.

#steve harrington/f!reader #steve harrington/you #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #my writing #mine #answered*#anonymous

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skarlette1 · 1 year

Text

Be Cumming Peg

--With much gratitude to Meleager for the request accompanied by a delicious coffee. A sequel of sorts to the short story, “Good Cop Routine,” available as part of Libido League Box Set #1, available at Smashwords and Amazon.

It had been three months since Quentin Binder—kidnapper, sex trafficker, leader of the sex cult called the “Indoctrinated Circle”, and self-described wizard—had escaped from Chastity Island Prison. Nearly a year ago, when he was first arrested, he’d tricked me with one of his bullshit “spells” when I interrogated him. I was not about to let the bastard walk free. When I heard that Binder had gone missing from his cell, I swore that I’d track him down and lock him in the darkest hole in the world, or my name wasn’t Detective Maggie Voyeur!

While my captain sympathized with my desire to bring this piece of human filth to justice, the Skarlette City Extra Normal Crimes Unit needed their top detective, namely me, to focus on other cases. I had to put my one-woman manhunt for Binder on the back burner, or at least relegate it to my personal time. My girlfriend Neena hated me devoting any more of my personal time to police work, but she did her best to understand my passion for justice—and for seeing Binder’s face behind bars again.

The lack of investigation time is why it took me three months to uncover the fact that Binder had a half-brother nobody knew about. Quincy Binder was nearly two decades younger than Quentin and raised in another state. However, the 21-year-old Quincy had been attending Skarlette City University for the last three years, studying computer science. If the Indoctrinated Circle had some clever, young geek among their ranks, that might explain why the SCPD’s tech investigators hadn’t been able to track down the cult’s finances, or even hard evidence of its existence.

Of course, maybe Quincy hadn’t been drawn into Quentin’s life of crime. Hell, they might not even have spoken in years; Quentin didn’t strike me as much of a family man. More of a beefy, broad-shouldered, steely-eyed psychopath with a long, dark beard and thick cock.

I hated how often I’d dreamt of that cock in the last year.

The dreams must have been a side effect of the magic he used. Have I mentioned how much I hated magic? From high school, college, the Marine Corps, to the police academy, I finished at the top of every class I ever attended. I’d easily taken down violent suspects a foot taller and two hundred pounds heavier than me. I might not be a superheroine, but with the right equipment, I’d tussled with and captured villains with actual superpowers, like Piledriver and Nervewracker. You wouldn’t find a tougher, stronger, more badass bitch on the SCPD.

But all of that meant jack against magic. A couple incantations and asshole extraordinaire Quentin Binder was still haunting my dreams a year later. Magic sucked.

Compared to a fucking wizard, a kid that programmed computers rather than cast spells was nothing to worry about. My next step was to ask Quincy Binder some questions.

I drove down to SCU and found Quincy Binder working in the library late on a Friday evening. He was three levels down in the stacks, re-shelving books, one of the few souls that hadn’t yet started the weekend. Rows of metal shelves shielded us from any prying eyes; the perfect place to get my answers. Quincy had his brother’s height, but while Quentin was a brick wall of a man, Quincy was was a rice-paper screen. The kid was so thin a stiff breeze would have blown him away. A faded heavy metal T-shirt and torn jeans hung off his gaunt frame.

“Quincy Binder?”

He glared up at me through thick glasses, his spindly arms leaning on a metal cart laden with books. “Who wants to know?”

I flashed him my badge. “Detective Voyeur. Skarlette City PD. I need to ask you a few questions about your brother. When was the last time you spoke to him?”

“Why do you care?” he sneered in a nasal voice.

“Because he’s a convicted felon who escaped from prison. If you helped him at all, that makes you an accessory. It binds you to him. You’ll miss a lot of classes if you’re sitting behind bars. Tell me what you know and I can help you.”

Quincy looked down. “Don’t worry about me, Detective. I’m not the one bound to Quentin. You are!”

He shoved the cart of books at me with surprising strength for his build. It knocked me into one of the shelves, which collapsed under the strain. Dozens of books rained down on me as I fell to the floor. Quincy dashed off into the stacks.

By the time I regained my feet, I could hear the distant echo of his sneakers pounding up the stairs. There was no way I’d catch up to him on foot, but the overturned book cart held something else bound to him: A black shoulder bag with the same heavy metal band name as Quincy’s faded T-shirt.

Rooting through the bag, I found a laptop, a thick envelope of cash, three cheap burner phones, and several canned energy drinks. The electronics would surely lead me to Quentin Binder more directly than any sort of interrogation of his brother could have.

I placed my phone over each of the burners, then rested it on the laptop. The techs at SCPD had just upgraded my phone with enhanced tech that would clone all the memory hardware in the devices and automatically upload them to the department’s secure servers. The techs could start digging into them before I even got back to the office. All I needed was to get out of this sub-basement’s cellular dead zone and my colleagues would have Binder’s information at their fingertips.

While the electronic cloning proceeded, I spotted something glinting inside Quincy’s bag. At the bottom of the bag was a small silver container of some sort. It was a flat, round disk covered with deep engravings in a language I’d never seen. The silver wasn’t cool like metal as it filled the palm of my hand, it almost pulsed. Closer inspection revealed that the there was a seam between the two halves of the disk and a small clasp. I couldn’t imagine why some friendless tech nerd like Quincy would have an antique lady’s makeup compact!

Wondering if it hid some sort of contraband, I pressed on the clasp. The compact sprang open, revealing a half bottom filled with face powder and an applicator. The inside top of the lid was a small, bright mirror.

Glancing into the mirror, the face looking back wasn’t my own!

I mean, she looked just like me, but while I kept my hair cut short, my reflection had long, dark braids. Her face was plastered with more makeup than I’d ever worn, her bright red lips smirking at me. Instead of my professional pantsuit, the woman in the mirror wore a leather harness and black corset along with a thick leather collar around her neck.

“Hello, Maggie,” the mirror-me said. “You look so, so stressed. It’s bad for your skin to frown so much.”

“What the fuck kind of trick is this?” I pulled the mirror close to my face, checking to see if it were a cleverly disguised video screen. There were no pixels, nor parallax. The image tracked my movements flawlessly. It was definitely a mirror. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m you. I’m Peg.”

Peg had been the nickname my abusive college boyfriend had called me, and the name Quentin Binder called me in my dreams. I hated that it was also the name that made my pussy slick. “My name isn’t Peg. It’s Maggie.”

“Of course you need to be Maggie when you’re acting like the tough police detective. But that’s not your true name. Master Quentin looked down into your soul and saw the slut that you truly are. That needy, pleading, desperate slut is me. The one grateful for my master’s collar. I’m Peg.”

“Bullshit,” I forced myself to say, but couldn’t force myself to believe. Despite the outlandishness of her claims, the high-pitched breathiness of her voice was straight out of my dreams. I remembered hearing that voice moaning with desire on so many nights. Just the memory of those dreams made my skin flush and my nipples stiff.

More than that, her voice didn’t seem to echo properly in the enclosed stacks. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was definitely something off about the way she spoke.

“That’s because you’re not hearing me with your ears, Maggie,” the smirking face in the mirror said. “I’m speaking right into your mind. Because I’m you.”

“Bullshit,” I whispered, but this magic shit was starting to freak me out. How could I escape my own reflection?

“You can’t escape me, Maggie,” Peg said. “You can only become me.”

My knees got weak at the thought of becoming such a submissive slut as Peg. Fuck!

“Like hell I will,” I muttered, and tried to summon the strength to hurl the makeup compact across the room. My hand trembled, my fingers savoring the warm caress of the engraved silver. It took every ounce of willpower just to tilt my hand far enough for the silver disk to slide off my palm. It tumbled into the heap of books.

Without looking back, I pocketed my phone and staggered toward the stairs. My legs felt like rubber but I pushed myself forward. Every step rubbed my sensitized flesh against my clothing, increasing my already-raging lust. Near the stairway leading out of the stacks stood a handful of study cubicles. The ugly mid-century constructions of crimped metal offered me a place to recenter myself before tackling the staircase. Sinking into a chair, I laid my head down on the glass desk blotter. Closing my eyes for a moment and slowing my breathing would help my body settle down. I’d be able to focus on the case at hand and forget about whatever bizarre daydreams I was having about that bitch Peg.

“It’s rude to call me a bitch, bitch,” Peg’s voice rang out loud and clear. Lifting my head, Peg looked up at me from the reflection in the glass desk blotter. “You can’t get rid of me with some deep breaths, Maggie. I’m always with you.”

“No. No, you’re a trick,” I whispered. I couldn’t look away from Peg’s face in the reflection. I could feel myself falling into her wide, dark eyes.

“If either of us is a trick, Maggie, it’s you. When the Indoctrinated Circle needs an agent inside the police department, they conjure you. Who do you think keeps sabotaging your investigation? As soon as Master Binder circles back around, he’ll put me back in charge of us. You’ll have so much more fun when I’m driving our body.”

“Binder’s coming back?” My pussy clenched at the thought. Fuck! I fumbled to draw my pistol from under my jacket. With impossible willpower and two failed attempts, I managed to drag my eyes away from the slut in the reflection.

Turning as though I were moving through molasses, I found Quincy Binder coming down the stairs. Raising both arms, I pointed my weapon at his chest. “Freeze,” I said with too much neediness in my voice.

Quincy Binder smirked at me. “Or what? You’ll shoot me with your handcuffs?”

I looked at the weapon in my hands. It wasn’t my gun. Gazing into the reflection must have confused my sense of left and right. I stood motionless for an eternity of moments as those thoughts percolated through my brain.

“Here, let me handle that,” Binder said. Taking the steel restraints from my trembling fingers, he snapped one cuff around my wrist.

Buzzzzzz-click!

I’d heard that sharp, metallic sound a million times while arresting suspects. It never went well for the person on the receiving end. My flight-or-fight finally kicked in. Adrenaline surging through my body, I turned and ran as fast as my feet would carry me. The automatic lights snapped on with every row of books that I passed, none of them showing a way out. All they did was let Quincy know where I was running. I spotted an exit sign pointed right. I turned the corner and ran into a wall. Had he used sinister magic to keep me trapped, or just confuse my sense of direction? There wasn’t time to wonder, only time to run.

I found an open door and hurried inside, hoping to barricade it from within. There was an electric hum for two seconds before the motion-activated lights switched on. The flickering fluorescents shown down on the men’s restroom: two urinals, a stall, a sink.

And a mirror.

“What a silly girl you are, Maggie. You’re just wasting time,” Peg taunted me from the mirror. She’d taken off the corset, wearing just the leather harness and thick collar to accentuate her nudity. Her nipples were thick and stiff; I could feel my own pressing against my bra.

“No. I will not become you, Peg.” I couldn’t look away from mirror and lacked the strength to move my feet. I was trapped, just like in my recurring dream about being cornered by a strong master ready to overpower me.

“That’s an awesome dream, Maggie!” Peg said. “Think about that dream. How often does that dream-Master make you cum?”

“Every … time?” I couldn’t lie to her.

“Exactly. I’m going to drown you in orgasms as soon as Master Binder finds you.” Peg’s eyes gleamed with a thirst for pleasure I knew all too well.

From the hallway, I heard the squeak of sneakered feet. Binder was nearly here.

“That’s right, Maggie. He’s almost here to make us cum. Give a little shout so he knows where to find you.”

My whole body ached for touch. The sneakers were at the door now. I shook my head, biting my lip to keep from crying out.

“You are such a stubborn little bitch, Maggie,” Peg scolded from the mirror, her dark eyes flaring in anger. “But I’m every bit as stubborn and far bitchier. Maybe you can fight me now, but you can’t fight me forever. Every time your attention wanders, I’ll be right there. Think about every confidential informant you have. One misdialed phone call from a police detective could blow their cover wide open. Think of all the paperwork you do. A careless mistake on one of those forms could have any of your arrests thrown out of court.”

I shook my head fiercely, mouthing the word No as the footsteps passed by the bathroom door.

“Don’t test me, Maggie. Work is only the beginning,” Peg said. “After you give into my urge to order ‘just one more’ drink at the bar, imagine how many dark secrets you can blurt out to whoever’s around. Or to your girlfriend. It took Neena a long time to forgive you when her drunk boss flirted with you at that party last year. Imagine that you’re in bed with Neena’s pretty blonde head between your thighs. She licks you just the way you like. As we crest, your voice cries out the wrong name. How do you think your jealous sweetheart will like that?”

“No!” I screamed, the sound bouncing off the bathroom tile.

In the hall, the sneakers stopped. Turned. Came closer.

Peg smiled wickedly at me. “Good girl, Maggie. Such an easily-manipulated, weak-willed girl you are! I’m going to rub our stiff little clit as a reward for doing exactly what I wanted.”

My fingers twitched against my holster; it’s all I could do to keep them from plunging between my thighs. The door opened. Quincy Binder walked in. I couldn’t react to him in any way. Peg’s dark eyes pinned me in place, like a bug pinned to a board.

“I said you were the bound one, bitch.” Quincy walked behind me, careful to never block my view of the mirror. “You’re bound to my brother. By right of blood, that binds you to me.” He nudged me over to the toilet stall. With the stall door standing open, there was a bar over the doorway. Quincy lifted my hands over my head, one wrist on either side of the bar. Buzzzz-click!

Peg’s gloating expression shifted to one of decadent pleasure as we felt the cold steel close around both wrists. “Our master has gifted us with bondage, Maggie. What does a good girl say for a gift?”

“Thank you,” I heard my voice speak. I couldn’t tell if it was me or the magic talking.

“You’re very, very welcome, bitch,” Quincy growled in my ear.

Reaching around me, he tore my shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. Pulling up my bra, he pawed at my defenseless breasts. I moaned, falling deeper into the reflections of Peg’s eyes. I could just make out that she was also hanging from a bar by her wrists. She was wearing a blue blazer, like I was. I couldn’t tell if her body was still wrapped in the harness she’d been wearing, or if that was just the reflection of my shoulder holster. Was she becoming me or was I becoming her?

“Does it matter, Maggie?” Peg said, her voice thick with lust as Quincy’s hands groped us. “Who cares who’s becoming who when we’ll both be cumming soon?”

“Be … cumming ...” I moan, my flesh burning with passion.

“You’ll be cumming when I tell you to, bitch.” Quincy pulled down my slacks and panties together.

I struggled to keep my legs closed, although I couldn’t have told you why.

Quincy let out a cruel laugh. “Quentin told me that you fight the magic every fucking time, but I didn’t believe it. No one could be so fucking stubborn. But here you are, still struggling. Un-fucking-believable!”

I was fighting, wasn’t I? I lifted my chin a fraction of an inch, and narrowed my eyes gazing into Peg’s needy face. After all, I was Maggie Voyeur, the most badass cop on the—

“You mean the hottest ass cop, Maggie,” Peg taunted. “You need what Master Binder can give you so, so bad.”

“No … I … won’t …” I muttered, hoping my words would give me strength. “I’ll … fight … you—OHMYFUCKINGOD!”

Quincy’s cock slid inside me with one smooth, deep stroke. The white-hot pleasure stabbed from my cunt to my mind to my soul, skewering every ounce of me with blazing bliss.

“Quentin said you always fought, bitch. He also said you always lose. Quentin will be so happy to see you on your knees when I drag you out of this library and haul your ass to his hideout.” Quincy started fucking me, hard and quick.

“Hard and quick is the way we like it, Maggie. We’re going to cum so hard when we accept the Circle.” Her eyes in the mirror were so weak and needy. I knew mine looked even more desperate.

“I ohhhh-bey … the … ugh … Circle,” I moaned with every thrust. The magic and sex was too much for me to resist, too much for anyone. At least when Binder led my obedient body to see Quentin, my phone would automatically send the evidence and my location to the SCPD.

“That’s so tricky, Maggie,” Peg moaned between thrusts. “But I’m trickier. Tell Master Binder about the phone.”

“Nooo … ooohhh ... oooohh-bey … the … Circle,” I moaned louder, trying to drown out Peg’s voice with cries of lust.

“Damn right you do, bitch.” Quincy jackhammered deep into my cunt. My climax rose up within me, ready to explode.

“Tell him about the phone, Maggie, or I won’t let us cum,” Peg snapped, biting her lip till it bled.

My climax hovered, just out of reach. I thrust back to meet Quincy’s thrusts. It made me burn hotter, but no closer to release.

“You won’t get any closer until you tell him, Maggie.”

Words tumbled out of my mouth between moans. “I … I … ohhhhh-bey … I … need to … cum … I need ...”

“You are so fucking tight, bitch,” Quincy growled. “You must be right on the fucking edge. Plunge over. Give in.”

“It will feel good to tell him about the phone, Maggie,” Peg taunted me from the mirror. “You’ll get to cum if you just say the words, ‘My phone has evidence on it.’”

“My … ph-ph-ph-fuck! … my phone … has … oooohhh … has … evidence … on … it—OHMYFUCKINGOD!” My body writhed with wave after wave of bliss as I came all over Master Binder’s cock. Never had anything felt so good. Never. It burned me to ashes.

Afterward, I hung limply from my chained wrists, my legs too weak to do anything but quiver as Master Binder’s cum oozed down my legs. As my eyes came back into focus, they settled on my reflection in the mirror: the picture of an obedient slut well-rewarded.

“You are one hot piece of ass, especially for being a cop,” Master Binder said, pulling up his jeans. “What did you say your name was, bitch?”

“My name is Peg, Master Binder. I obey the Circle,” I said, without the slightest trace of deceit.

“Okay, Peg, tell me about this evidence on your phone.”

I was only too happy to tell him every little secret that stubborn, foolish Maggie had tried to keep from him. The Circle is endless. I live to serve the Circle.

---

Sorry I was away longer than planned. Hope it was worth the wait!

---

Like what you read? Will you buy me a coffee and request something rich to sink my teeth into? Or peek into the depths of my longer fiction?

#skarletteone #mind control #flash fiction #superhero

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mmelionsblog · 2 years

Text

You’re My Reason || Bradley Bradshaw

( ITS SUCH A SMALL DRABLE BUT I COULDNT HELP WRITE THIS IM IN LOVE W THIS MAN. ANYWAYS HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY 🙂 )

It had been a long week at work, and once you got off you went straight to your bedroom and cried for about who knows how long.

For a while, you thought you could be a therapist since you have graduated from high school, and through out your five years of being one this week had been the hardest of them all.

It might’ve been because you’ve been busy so much of focusing on your patients, you haven’t focused on yourself. You would usually tell Bradley how your week has been, but since he’s been gone for a month long mission you had no one to talk too.

Keeping everything in your chest was bad and you knew that, but very little you trusted no one except Bradley. Ever since an incident that was all for trust back in 2013 when you graduated, you hadn’t been your same self ever since. Well, tell you met your boyfriend of course.

“Fuck,” you whimpered. Sniffling, you got on your phone to call Bradley. As you put him on speaker you got up to wipe the tears off your face.

He still hasn’t answered, and your stomach twisted as you heard his voicemail. “This is Bradshaw, if you have contacted me-” you end the call, throwing your phone at the wall in frustration.

Your eyes traveled to the shelves that had numerous pictures of your family, Bradley, and you on it. Smiling sadly, you close your eyes hoping you’d feel better in the morning.

0:900 you woke up due to the banging in your house. Jumping up from your bed, your eyes widened as you remembered forgetting to lock your doors at night. Cussing, you grab your bat and slowly walk out of your shared bedroom.

Words could be heard from the kitchen but it was still muffled to you since you had just woken up. Holding the bat closely to you, you peak around the corner to see your boyfriend cooking your favorite breakfast. Your heart ached at the right.

Putting down the bat you slowly crept onto Bradley as you wrap your arms around his torso, you nuzzled your nose into his back. “Hi my love,” you whisper. “Hi baby, how’s you sleep?” He asked. “Couldn’t sleep. This week has been a nightmare.”

“How so?” You explained to him, and by the time you ended the food was done since you decided to add in your month as well. Tears formed down your cheek and Bradley hated seeing you all so stressed out. “Please take time off, this week alright? Have someone else in for you.” He whispered as he wiped your tears, kissing each side of your cheek.

You whispered a small okay, agreeing to whatever your boyfriend said. You didn’t care, as long as he was here all of your problems were solved.

Since the two of you had work off that day, after breakfast you both decided to clean up the house and went straight to your shared room and put on some nice comfortable clothes, getting underneath the sheets and holding one another.

Bradley loved moments like these. He loved holding you so close, being next to you. His mouth laid kisses all over your body to where he can get too, maybe a possible sucking on some spots- love bites as he calls them.

“I love you,” a kiss was planted on your nose, “I love you,” another one was planted on your cheek and he would say I love you every time he kissed somewhere and you would too, every time he spoke.

“You’re my reason,” you whisper; looking up at him to look into his eyes. “You’re mine.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #miles teller #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #top gun #mavericks #x reader

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sugakoni · 2 years

Text

memories - cherik (1)

synopsis: the want to not be lonely consumed the two of them; especially after their recently finalized divorce. charles and erik do not know why they still were drawn to each other. casual exes-to-lovers au, with walking charles. post-xmfc and pre-dofp, without the... fact erik killed jfk.

warnings: swearing, yelling, just a lot of angst and stuff in this first chapter.

word count: 5903

(note: this first chapter kinda... sucks a bit imo, but it will be better after i see if anyone likes it. i kinda just wanted to get it out before i exploded from no one seeing it oof. also, after i get the first few chapters done, i will be posting it on ao3... this may or may not be my first cherik fic.)

The house was cold, yet inviting. After a long day of work, the man sat in his living room, a glass of scotch in his hand. Rain poured outside, hitting the roof above him, and the window that he continued to look out of.

The thought of his past lover didn’t sting like it used to, but it caused an ache of want at points. His eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressed against the cool glass in his hand, and the pain lingered.

The telepath never wanted to invade the other's headspace, allowing him his own state of mind and healing after the incidents that had occurred. A shaky breath left his mouth before a knock at his front door caught him off guard.

Usually, visitors never come this late, especially to the school. At least, not unannounced beforehand. Charles stood up from his seat, placing his glass on the coffee table before hastily moving to open the door. He didn’t want the poor soul to get drenched, especially out in the pouring rain-

“I apologize for the small wait, usually visitors don’t show up this-” Charles looked up and met the person’s eyes, “-late…”

His tone of voice lowered, and there stood in front of him was Erik Lehnsherr, soaked completely to the bone. Erik let out a shaky breath, pushing the other aside gently before stumbling his way into the mansion.

Charles felt confusion course through him, closing the door after a moment. He stood there, hand on the knob and looking forward. He breathed out, before turning to face the obviously drunk man behind him.

“Erik, why are you here?” He asked, annoyance in his tone. After months of torment, heartache, drunkenness, and sorrow, the other decided to show up on one random night. Drunk himself, nonetheless.

“I… Charl… Charles…” Erik slurred, moving to walk towards Charles’s office.

Charles's eyebrows furrowed again, and he followed the other. He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, watching as the other sat on the floor in front of his desk and pulled his knees into his chest.

“Erik…”

“I can’t… I can’t do this without you..”

“Do what without me?” Charles asked, confusion lacing his voice.

“Life.”

Charles scoffed, shaking his head. He leaned against the doorway, feeling slight pity for the man in front of him. Erik sobbed out, putting his head in between his legs and letting himself feel his own pain. The other could feel his eyes start to water at the sight, glancing away and gulping the giant lump in his throat.

He wanted to be angry, he wanted to be mad at him. His clothes were still hanging in their once shared closet, his things still on shelves in their room. His nightstand was not to be touched, and the fact that Charles even though he was remotely over the other was insane.

“You left, Erik. You left on your own, you decided that this wasn’t sufficient enough for you. That I wasn’t enough for you. I don’t understand-” Charles breathed in heavily for a moment, trying not to let his own tears fall, “-I don’t understand what you want me to say here.”

The room fell silent, other than the occasional sniffle and sob that left Erik. Charles bit at the inside of his cheek, tapping his foot on the ground.

“I want you to say… you want me. You want me even when.. I leave and.. say things I don't mean.. Charles,” Erik groaned, embarrassed at himself. “I love you.”

Charles gnawed at his lip at the response, his body shaking with newfound anger. He knew that he could control his emotions, he knew he could tell if Erik was lying. But he made a promise, and that is what was killing him at this moment.

“Do you expect me to just fall to my knees exactly like you, and take you back after the torment that you put me through? The heartbreak you put me through? Erik, do you understand how difficult it was for me? What do you take me for…” Charles’s own tears were falling, staining his cheeks. He tried to keep his composure.

“I was in love with you, Erik.”

“Was?”

Charles fell silent.

“Am.”

The telepath shook his head as he felt every single emotion course through his veins. He felt anger, but he felt sympathy. He felt love and he also felt hurt. Charles moved to walk away from his office, but the croak from Erik caused him to turn around.

“Don't leave.”

“I’m going to go get you some water-”

“Don't. Leave.”

Charles sighed, shaking his head and not giving in. He continued his trek towards the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with tap water. He continued to walk back towards the office, glancing in and seeing that Erik was nowhere to be found.

“Damnit,” Charles muttered to himself. Now his drunk ex-husband was roaming around the mansion.

He went to look for him, assuming he hadn't gone far. A rustle upstairs took him by surprise, as he moved to go towards the location of the sound. Charles’s bedroom door was open, and he glanced in.

“Erik,” Charles called out. He took another step and was greeted by Erik sitting on the edge of their once shared bed, a jacket of his own in the other’s lap. Charles frowned.

He moved to stand in front of Erik, the glass of water in front of him. Erik hesitantly moved to grab the glass, the cool water contrasting with the heat of his hand. His fingers graced against Charles’s for a moment, and it caused his heart to break.

Charles’s heart was racing a bit, out of just fear of the unknown. He pointed towards the open spot beside Erik.

“May I?”

Erik gave a nod.

Charles sat down beside him, looking forward. He didn't know what to say or do. But he had to admit that being beside Erik felt familiar, and inviting to him.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Charles. That was… never my intention…” Erik mumbled, taking a sip of the water. Charles gave a nod.

“Erik, we can talk about this when you're sober-”

“No,” Erik responded harshly, taking Charles back.

“We need to talk about this now…” he added.

Charles shook his head in defeat, biting at his bottom lip. He gestured for Erik to keep talking, and the other took a deep breath before speaking once more.

“I didn't want… to be a burden on you, on this,” he gestured to the room, meaning the school. “I didn't want to hinder you from your dreams… your goals… I felt like all I was doing was holding you back, so I decided to take myself out of the picture.”

Charles didn't catch himself, but he was laughing. He was laughing out of shock, anger, sadness. His laughter filled the room, and Erik felt anger pang him a bit.

“Would you stop laughing?!”

“Sorry… sorry… I just think it's quite ridiculous that instead of communicating this with me, you decided one night to leave and never come back,” Charles shook his head. “It's unbelievable, Erik. We took a vow. And you broke that vow.”

“Not on paper.”

“It doesn't matter! You broke that vow the moment you left this place, that moment that you broke my heart, and told me that you didn't know if this is what you wanted.”

Erik huffed, moving to place his glass on the dresser in front of them. He sat himself back down, and Charles couldn't believe what he was hearing. He looked away from the other.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Charles, look at me.”

He looked back at the other, and before he knew it, Erik’s lips were on his own. Charles let out a breath of air out of shock, before letting himself kiss the other man back. The sparks that were always there showed back up between them.

Charles’s hand went to caress Erik’s neck, while Erik’s hand nestled itself into Charles’s hair. The kiss was heated, and their need and love for each other were prominent as it deepened.

The familiarity of Erik’s lips welcomed Charles in with open arms. He let out a soft grunt at the feeling, knowing that the kiss was intimate. However, the feeling of anger took away from the intimacy. A feeling of hurt.

Erik pulled back a little, placing his forehead against the other’s. They were both breathing heavily. Charles’s lips were tinted red, his cheeks pink to match as they just sat there.

“Please. Please let me redeem myself, Charles,” Erik begged. Charles bit at his lip. He pulled himself away completely, not knowing what he wanted. Confusion was coursing through him again, as well as a sense of overwhelming love for the other.

The idea of letting Erik back into his life seemed to be plausible, but the pain and torment that the other had caused him made Charles hesitate in his answer. Erik’s hands still gripped at Charles’s white button-up, but Charles’s hands were to himself. A lump crept up his throat again, and tears welled in his eyes once more.

“I can’t, Erik… not right now…” He whispered, adverting his gaze from the other.

Erik shot up, keeping his lips pressed together in a thin line. The emotion coursing through the other started to shake the metal around the two, but Charles never moved from his spot. He looked up at the other from his spot.

“You’re confusing for a telepath, Charles,” Erik muttered, clenching his fists. Charles knew that the vibration of the metal would be bound to wake up the students in the house. But, Charles didn’t have it in him to stop Erik. He was drained, tired of all of the thoughts rushing through his head that made him feel as if he was incapable of saying no to the man that stood there.

“Respond to me!” Erik groaned out. Charles flinched at the sudden change in tone. He stayed silent, not wanting his own powers to go awol with his own emotions as well.

Erik continued to stand, looking down at Charles, his chest rising and falling with every harsh breath that entered his lungs. The metal surrounding them was now up in the air, and as soon as Charles noticed what was happening, he stood up.

“Stop, Erik,” Charles spoke out worryingly, and Erik stared at him. The metal was pointed directly towards him, and Charles felt uneasy.

“Erik. Stop.” Charles demanded again, “I don't want to have to do this.”

“Do it, Charles. Read my mind. Feel my pain.”

Before Erik could move the metal even an inch closer towards the telepath, Charles moved two of his fingers to lay against his own temple. Erik froze, the metal crashed to the ground around them, but didn't take Charles out of his state.

As he looked through Erik’s mind, he could feel every bit of hurt that coursed through him. Charles stood there, letting Erik go but still infiltrated his mind. He took away the mind block he had for the other, realizing that Erik wanted him to see what he had gone through. The torment. The heartbreak.

But all that came out of Charles’s mouth was a small huff, his fingers leaving his temple and he turned away.

“Leave, Erik.”

“Charles-”

“I said leave!” Charles yelled at the other telepathically, his eyes averted their gaze from the other again. Erik flinched at the sudden pang in his head, and without hesitation, left his room, slamming the door shut behind him with his powers.

Charles ran a hand through his hair, finally letting himself cry. His body shook with every sob, sitting down on the edge of his bed and looking down at the floor beneath him. He didn't care if he was being loud, he didn't care if his own thoughts and emotions carried into every single person in the mansion. He just wanted to hurt, he wanted to let himself hurt.

That night, for the umpteenth time, Charles allowed himself to cry himself to sleep. He curled up underneath the once-shared comforter, holding Erik’s old pillow close to him, as sobs filled the silence in his room. Loneliness consumed him, but it invited him in like an old friend every time.

An abundance of harsh knocks awoke Charles from his sad slumber, a groan leaving his lips as he sat up in his bed, unwillingly. He stood up, walked to his bedroom door, and opened it, being greeted by his sister.

“You look awful,” Raven exclaimed, and Charles rolled his eyes. He didn't know how he looked, nor did he care, but he didn't have time for Raven’s remarks this morning. Or the want to deal with them.

“What do you want?” He snapped slightly, which took Raven back.

“Uh. One, rude, and two, I was just coming to see what happened last night. The whole house was woken up by noises, but you were nowhere to be found.”

Charles rubbed at his forehead, he half hoped that last night was a dream. His eyebrows furrowed. “Erik stopped by.”

Raven frowned, moving to lean against the doorframe. “How did that go?”

He let out a sad chuckle, looking away from Raven for a moment. Charles recalled the events from the previous night, his emotions feeling numb for a moment as he stood there. His heart swelled in pain momentarily, and he felt the familiar lump in his throat.

“Horribly, actually,” he murmured. Charles didn't want to speak about it more than he had to, and Raven sensed that. She moved to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, squeezing it softly before moving her hand away.

“It will get better, I promise,” she whispered. Charles gave a curt nod, before telling her he would meet her downstairs for breakfast. She replied with an ‘alright’, letting him shut the door so that he could get ready for the day.

He stood in his bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth as he looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were puffy from the crying, as well as red, and his nose was still stuffed. His hair was a mess, sticking out every which way. Charles, indeed, looked like a mess. But he just didn't care. He spat out the toothpaste in his mouth, moving to use his mouthwash before going to change into his clothes for the day and fixing his hair.

Soon enough, Charles was out of his bedroom, rushing to eat breakfast before making his way to his classroom to teach his students. He still had a job to do, after all, and if he let his personal issues get in the way of that, he would be hindering his students' abilities to learn. And Charles would never let that happen, not again.

The day seemed to drag, but finally, Charles was in his upstairs office, grading students’ papers, and reading their essays. His eyes were feeling a bit droopy, the office only illuminated by the dim light of the lamp on his desk. He mumbled some of the words he read to himself, putting the papers down and rubbing his eyes with his palms.

Exhaustion hit him like a brick, and his feelings again drained. Charles had worked so hard to pick himself back up again after the break-up, and it felt like every single bit of work he put into himself crumbled the moment Erik showed up on his doorstep, drenched, drunk, and crying. The remembrance of the sight caused Charles’s eyes to sting, his bottom lip quivering.

He snapped out of his own wallowing self-pity when his door was knocked on. Charles could tell who was on the other side, replying with a ‘come in’. Hank slowly shuffled into his office, closing the door behind him gently as he looked at his best friend.

Charles looked up at him, a soft, hurt smile on his face. “What brings you here?” Charles asked calmly, putting up an all too familiar facade.

Hank frowned, knowing that his friend was hurting. He shifted his weight onto one foot, playing with the arms of his jacket. “I came to see how you were doing. I never had the chance to ask today; it's been extremely busy. But-”

“Yes. I am afraid I already know what you are going to ask,” Charles interrupted with a chuckle. Hank gave a small shrug, a smile on his face.

“I'm assuming Erik was here.”

“Yes, indeed he was,” Charles murmured, looking down at his desk for a moment. Hank let out a sigh, moving to sit in a chair in front of his desk. Charles didn't move his eyes, focusing them on the wood of his desk as they began to sting again.

“Healing isn't always linear, Charles… but, it pains me, Raven, hell, all of us, to see you back at square one again. You were making amazing progress.”

Charles bit at his lip, not expecting those words to leave Hank. He glanced up again, feeling his own facade begin to crack little by little. Hank frowned once more, eyebrows furrowed as he continued to watch his best friend. Charles didn't need his powers to know how worried everyone was, but he didn't want to worry them even more by breaking down at a random moment. He moved to place a hand on his forehead, an elbow rested on his desk as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“It’s just difficult… seeing him again, getting into that mind again… it hurt, worse than I thought it would,” Charles replied, his voice breaking.

Hank bit at the inside of his cheek, not knowing how to respond to the statement. Charles held back the want to just sob out, his hand now in his hair and grasping. Hank’s own heart broke for the other, hating to see him like this again.

“Charles. You know I am always here for you, but I am going to give you your space,” Hank stood up, “you shouldn't hold back these emotions. It’s good for… uhm… recovery.”

Hank’s words trailed off. Charles remembered when he was in a similar situation; with Raven. His sister had broken Hank’s heart one too many times, but they still remained friends for Charles’s sake. He knew that what Hank was saying was from personal experience.

“Thank you, Hank.”

Hank gave a small nod, turning to leave his office. Once the door shut, Charles let out a sob. He moved to rest his head on his desk, letting himself feel every emotion that he had held in for the day. His tears rolled down onto his hands, ultimately staining the wood below them, a shaky breath left him before he continued to cry.

“Stupid… Stupid!” Charles chanted in his own head, sitting up and slamming his hand on his desk as he leaned back in his chair. He sniffled, wiping his tears away. He let out a small hiccup, a groan leaving his lips as he got up and started to make his way to his room. People speaking downstairs caught his attention, and he stood at the edge, listening to the conversation downstairs.

“Where is he?” The familiar vibrato of Erik’s voice rang in his ears. Charles gulped.

“Erik, you're not welcome here, at least not at this time,” Hank responded. Charles could feel Erik rolling his eyes at the scientist's response, hearing the all too familiar footsteps make their way towards the stairwell. Charles’s eyes widened, moving to walk to his room. But, he didn't move fast enough.

“Charles.”

“Damnit,” Charles whispered to himself. He turned around on his heels, looking at the man who stood at the top of the stairs.

Erik started to make his way toward him, and Charles didn't move a muscle. His hands were at his side, the pad of his right index finger toyed with his slacks. Soon enough, Erik was standing in front of the telepath, looking down at him.

“You said we could talk about this when I’m sober, so here I am,” Erik gestured. Charles rolled his eyes.

“I think that Hank told you you're not allowed on the premises at this moment,” Charles responded. Erik clicked his tongue, a small laugh leaving him.

“I know you too well, Charles. You want me here,” Erik whispered the last part, poking his finger into the other’s chest. A small bit of anger coursed through Charles. He grasped Erik’s wrist, throwing his hand down.

“Do not touch me.”

Erik glared at the other. Charles glared right back at him, not letting Erik get into his own head. They stood in silence for a moment, the anger surrounding the both of them prominent. He let out a huff.

“Hank told you to leave,” he murmured, “so I suggest you do so.”

Charles turned around, walking towards his bedroom. All of a sudden his wrist was being tugged back, not by Erik’s own hand, but by his powers. The watch he had on was hindering him from moving, and Charles let out a grunt.

“Please, Erik, leave me alone,” Charles begged. Erik stayed quiet, moving towards the other. He let go of the watch on his wrist, grasping it with his own hand now and dragging him into the bedroom they once shared. He slammed the door shut, not getting a reaction out of Charles.

The two of them stood there looking at each other again, Charles shaking a bit with anger and confusion. He didn't know why he desperately wanted to just slam Erik into the wall, and kiss him senseless. Make him feel what he felt for months while doing so. Make Erik realize that even though Charles so desperately wanted to hate him for still being in love with him, that he still wanted him all this time.

“As I said last night,” Erik started, “I want to be able to redeem myself.” He slightly seethed the last part, not enjoying how he was now taking his own facade away little by little. Charles stayed silent, his eyes flickering from the furrow of Erik’s eyebrows to his nose, down to his lips as he spoke and back up again.

What is wrong with me, Charles thought. He let out a shaky breath.

“No matter how many times I let you redeem yourself; the ending always stays the same. You leave me,” Charles responded, his tone harsh. Erik shook his head.

“I won't leave, not this time,” Erik tried to reassure him, but Charles didn't believe him. He shook his head, his eyes now watering again.

“No matter how much I want to believe that is true, you haven't proven it to me,” Charles whispered. Erik's own heart broke at the tone of the other’s voice, knowing that he had hurt him to the point of no return. Erik gulped, his own eyes now watering as he looked away.

The room grew silent again, the only sounds coming from each breath that they took. Charles stood there, playing with the hem of his shirt. Anxiety rose in him, but he didn't want Erik to push his boundaries like he used to. Charles felt the overwhelming urge to stand up for himself, for his mental health, for once.

Erik kept glancing over at the other, seeing that Charles was still looking down. He hesitated for a moment, wanting to tilt the other’s chin up and just press a kiss to his lips. He wanted to calm the other, his heart breaking at the sight. He was the one who did this to Charles, and he couldn't even fix it.

“Please… one more chance is all I ask for-”

Charles looked up at him again. He then moved towards the closet, grabbed a suitcase, and started to stuff all of Erik’s belongings inside. Erik stood there in disbelief, watching as he continued to silently, and very angrily, make sure nothing of Erik’s was missed.

“No, Erik. I cannot give you one more chance! Not right now, at least,” he finally broke the silence.

Erik gulped. His own heart continued to break. Charles didn't care anymore. He wanted to be alone, he deserved to have his time to think, but he still desperately wanted to just give in to everything Erik had to offer. He still wanted to give him just one more chance.

When Charles finally got a glimpse of Erik, he saw the tears that ran down his cheeks. He looked down at the suitcase, starting to zip it up as his own tears slipped from his eyes. Charles held back a sob, his hands stopping halfway around the suitcase before he just let himself cry.

He felt the concern of the other, feeling Erik’s hand now on his back. He sank into the touch, still looking down. It hurt him. He wanted to give in, but Charles knew deep in his heart that it was not the right time for them to rekindle that flame that the two of them had for each other. He glanced up at Erik, whose cheeks were still stained with tears, but it didn't look like any more would fall.

“I just need time, Erik… I cannot make a rash decision… please, please just let me be,” Charles was now begging for the other to listen, to understand why he needed time. Erik let out a defeated sigh, standing up slowly. Charles finished zipping up the suitcase, standing up, and handing Erik the handle to it.

“Are you saying that this won't happen again?” Erik asked. Charles’s eyebrows furrowed.

“That isn't what I am saying at all. I just need space… time. You hurt me, more than you ever had, and I still need some more time to process this,” Charles rambled. He wiped his eyes, motioning towards the door and Erik gave a nod in defeat again. He wasn't used to not getting what he wanted, and Charles knew that, but he wouldn't give in. Not this time.

When Erik left, Charles still felt uneasy. He crossed his arms, standing in the same spot for a few minutes as his eyes darted around the floor. He was consumed with different feelings. Feelings of confusion and hurt; but also love and want. Charles let himself glance around the room, seeing how everything was now in disarray after he shoved everything of Erik’s into that one stupid suitcase. He went to move, but before he could, Raven barged into his room unannounced.

“Raven-”

“C’mon. We are going to get you out of this slump, out of this place for a bit so you don't have to think about it,” Raven commanded, grabbing his arm, and dragging him. Her strength was uncanny, especially with how small she was, but she had always been stronger than Charles. He choked a bit on his own spit.

“Raven, I-”

“We are going to a bar. You are gonna do your charismatic flirting shit or whatever you do, you're gonna be yourself again, because this. Is. Maddening,” She ranted. Charles rolled his eyes.

“You’re maddening,” Charles retorted, moving to run a hand through his hair. “Were you listening in to our conversation?” Raven glanced back at the other as she opened the car door for him, practically shoving him into the passenger side. She didn’t answer his question; just promptly shut the door and got into the driver’s side.

“You project a lot when you are mad; I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole house knew what was going on,” Raven stated. Charles rolled his eyes again. She started to drive off of the Westchester property, making her way toward the city. It had been a long time since Charles had been out of the mansion, especially after his divorce. He didn’t know what the night would hold for him, and it made him a bit anxious.

Charles had been a player before his marriage, yes, but not the type that would sleep around with anyone. He did his fair share of flirting, talking to primary women of course, because they seemed the most vulnerable to his charismatic antics. But, thinking about doing that again, with Erik’s words from the last few days lingering in his mind, put a sour taste in his mouth.

His thoughts slowly started to project, just so Raven could understand how much he didn’t want someone to just use to get rid of these feelings of confusion. Raven pulled the car over, abruptly stopping it, almost sending Charles flying a bit in his seat.

“What?”

“You’re doing it again,” Raven seethed. She parked the car and looked over at Charles. “Erik is not worth all of this confusion, trust me, Charles, I would know.”

Charles’s lips pressed into a thin line, looking at her with a tinge of jealousy. Raven shook her head, running a hand through her blonde hair. He was trying not to feel upset, but what she had said almost sent him over the edge. He took his seatbelt off, opened the door and slammed it shut.

“Charles,” she rolled the window down, “get back in. I’m sorry,” she added. Charles shook his head, beginning to walk away from the car on the way back toward the mansion. Raven groaned, putting the car in reverse and following him.

“Raven, seriously, if you want me to get better, you too need to leave me alone,” Charles replied, eerily calm for his demeanor. Raven winced a bit at the statement.

“I’m sorry, I know that he and I’s past is a touchy subject-”

“Then why would you say anything? Huh?” Charles looked at her like she was stupid. Raven’s face contorted into disgust before she just scoffed and put the car in drive; speeding off. She would have her own fun, with or without Charles.

Charles rolled his eyes to himself as he heard the screeching of the tires behind him, and began his long trek back to the mansion. The cooler air of early autumn nipped at his face, causing him to shiver as he wrapped his arms around himself. It could really only be a 15-minute walk from where he left Raven, but it felt like it would be forever with how cold it was.

After he did his exactly 15-minute walk back to the mansion, he opened the door and was met by the warmth of it. Charles made his way to his room, deciding to shower to warm himself up a bit more. He sat underneath the warm running water coming from the shower head, letting it engulf him as more thoughts from the last two days, and the day that Erik had left him kept running through his head.

“Damnit,” he whispered quietly to himself. Charles held back the sob that threatened to leave him, knowing that he shouldn’t cry anymore about the situation, but the feelings hurt. And he hated them.

His shower lasted a long while until the water ran cold. Charles put on some comfortable clothes, lay in bed, and hoped to fall asleep soon enough. He looked up at the ceiling, sniffling for a moment. Erik ran through his mind, which hurt him even more as he lay lonely in bed. Usually, when he began to feel like this, he would be able to turn over and be greeted by the man who would be awake, reading some oddball book he picked up at the library when he was in the city. Charles sighed, getting out of bed and making his way toward his office.

He slumped into his desk chair, moving to grab his journal. Charles began to write, just about his feelings. About Erik, and how bad he wanted to be with him again, but he knew that he needed time. He let out a soft sigh, continuing to write to his heart's content. Trying to just let all of his feelings flow, so that he could stop being nagged by them when he desperately just wanted to sleep.

Charles’s need for sleep soon caught up to him. One moment, he closed his eyes, and the next, the sun was shining brightly in his face. He was leaning back in his chair, a small amount of drool coming from his mouth and last night's tears dried up on his cheeks. He looked around the room for a moment, remembering that it was the weekend, and let himself fall back to sleep in the chair. That was until a harsh knock was laid against his door, causing him to jump a bit.

“What is it?” He groggily asked out, watching as Moira stepped into his office. Charles blinked.

“You’re here to reprimand me too?”

“They’re worried, Charles. And you aren’t listening. It’s not like this just happened from Erik showing up a few nights ago… you have been like this for months,” Moira replied. She moved toward his desk, placing her hands on the edge and slightly bent over. Charles had to admit, that he didn’t like it when Moira was emotional. He couldn’t tell by her face if she was pissed or upset, and he didn’t like going through her mind. Charles let out a sigh.

He stayed quiet while Moira glared down at him, feeling a bit uneasy in her stare. Charles tugged a bit at his shirt anxiously, biting at his lip. “I just don’t know what to do, Moira.”

“You obviously want to be with him again. And you keep stopping yourself; why won’t you let yourself try again?” She asked with sincerity. Charles shook his head.

“It isn’t that simple… I have tried, again and again, and I know we are both on different terms,” Charles mumbled. Moira groaned in annoyance, moving her hand over and thumping his forehead. He was taken aback, letting out a short ‘ow’ and going to rub the spot she thumped.

“You two are in love with each other, for Christ’s sake!” Moira yelled at him. Charles scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He shook his head, standing up. They both stared at each other across his desk. A small huff left the woman’s mouth.

“He is in love with himself. That is why he wanted to be alone in the first place-”

“Now Charles we both know that’s not true,” Moira interrupted. Charles put a finger up to shush her, shaking his head. He didn’t want to hear it, from anyone else. He didn’t understand why now, all of a sudden, everyone was worried about him and his love life. Was it that obvious that Charles wanted it to happen again, more than ever? He didn’t know.

“Contact him.”

“What?”

“Call him. Tell him you want to go out to talk. Coffee, brunch, somewhere that isn’t here. Too many memories,” Moira rambled. Charles stood there, appalled.

“Now!”

“Fine! Fine…” Charles grumbled to himself, reaching for the phone on his desk and dialing Erik’s number. He knew it still, mostly because of how often he tapped into the other’s mind in Cerebro. He bit at his lip, and the phone rang…

And rang…

“Hello, Erik? It-It’s Charles… I was wondering if you would like to go out for brunch with me sometime in the next week, to actually… talk about everything…”

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