#and the fact that his tongue sticks out when he's upside down

[salted15]

practiced animating at 12 fps !!!

(sola by @cyus-on-the-internet :D he got me hooked on his characters hehe)

[dmitriene]

cw: animalistic sex?

könig obsessed over your breasts, it's not the size, doesn't matter if they're more plushy or either not, it's the fact that he can watch your nipples puffen up from his sharp teeth's and greedy suckles, mouth lavishing at the pebbled flesh that warms beneath his kisses, your hands grasping tremblingly at his shaven head, rubbing across the short layer of remained hair, almost painfully so.

it makes him whine high in his throat, pitifully, submissive, enjoying the bouncing, breathy sounds of your moans and the scratch of your manicured fingers against his skin, you can tear him up, turn upside down, make him bleed at the wide expanse of his scarred back, as he licks sloppily against your nipple, swollen on his lolled tongue.

he's all rugged and ill mannered, groping at you like a mutt, outgrown nails sinking into the plushness of your skin everywhere he can find the purchase to, kneading at you, littering your clean, untouched skin with his sharp canines, making you squirm at the rough rubbing of his bristle against your already sensitive body, yet your pussy still pulsing beneath your sodden panties for some attention, könig's blue eyes eclipsed, needy and sympathetic when you gasp for him to move.

he obliges like a dog, knowing well to obey the command instantly as he hears it, your pussy devoured lewdly by his searing, slobbery mouth, all over the fabric of your panties that soak and stick to your slicked folds, but he makes no move to get rid of the fabric, because you didn't voiced out he can, even through your slurred gasps talk about your pleasure.

könig's calloused, large palms enveloping the fat of your breasts, squeezing your nipples between his fingers, fiddling and rubbing, twisting, anything to see you tremble and seize beneath him, your dripping pussy tight around his cock, a vise that spasms around his girthy, throbbing cock, fucking into you with wet, messy glides that pummel at your gummy spot, almost cumming on the spot when you scratch at the nape of his neck, clamping down tightly.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[stevebabey]

have sum steddie! maybe modern!au, no upside down!au & a meet cute <3 | ao3

Steve sits in the booth, his foot tapping away mindlessly under the table, with half a mind to abandon the table entirely.

In fact, the only reason he hadn’t yet was because of the $20 he was hanging out for at the end. And the bragging rights, of course.

Robin had set him up on this blind date, plied him with all the promises in the world that he would enjoy it — said she’d spent a decent amount of time hunting for the right first gay date for Steve.

She also conceded that if he, for whatever reason, didn’t enjoy it, she would cough up 20 whole bucks for his wasted time. But he had to actually see the date through for the prize to be claimed.

And the bragging rights were so that Robin — with her uppity, healthy, and happy relationship that Steve was only a little bit envious of — could ease onto the breaks when it came to Steve’s love life.

So it was looking a little bleak at the moment, so what? Every stallion or… lion or whatever had their moments, right? Moments where their mane is a little uncouth and food is low and…. Where was he going with this?

The point was, that Robin got into one relationship and suddenly decided she was fit to become a high and mighty matchmaker. Never mind that Steve had reminded her numerous times that he had dated a lot more than she had.

So, for 20 bucks and the right to stick his tongue out at his best friend when she tried to meddle, Steve could stick one night out.

Besides, she was right about one thing. They weren’t in Hawkins anymore — and San Francisco had a hell of a larger dating pool than his hometown.

Still, that didn’t make people anymore for prompt for dates though, apparently. Steve’s foot taps incessantly under the table, his knee bouncing up and down in his nerves. He runs a hand through his hair and checks his watch again.

7 o’clock, Harvey’s Diner, a cute little Italian place that Steve had begun to frequent since they moved to the city, and a date with a dude called Daniel whom Steve had no idea what he looked like.

This was his Friday night plans.

His watch reads 7:12pm and Steve sighs, his fingers beginning to fiddle with the strap of his watch just for something to do. Great. He had gotten all dressed up for this? To be stood up? How was this any better than his usual Friday night plans that Robin claimed were so pathe—

“Hi.”

Someone sits down in the booth across from Steve, landing with a thump loud enough to give him a fright.

Steve’s head whips up from its focus on fiddling with his watch and— woah. Steve blinks once, twice, and feels his jaw unhinge a little, his lips parting an inch as he gazes at the stranger across from him.

Holy shit, this dude was hot.

He’s got curls for days, dark chocolate ringlets all messy and unkept spilling over his shoulders— long and probably perfect for burying your hands into. Steve flushes a little at the unexpected thought.

He has beautiful brown eyes, widened with a smudge of eyeliner and framed with long lashes. Steve thinks he can spy a smattering of freckles across his forehead. His nose is long and his lips are plush and pink and holy shit, this dude was pretty.

“Oh— hi.” Steve manages to remember his manners. Only after he fully checked this dude out, of course.

God, couldn’t Robin have given him a better warning than just ‘he’s probably your type’? Couldn’t she have warned him that this dude was ‘do-a-double-take-on-the-street type hot?’ What the fuck Robin?

The man across from him grins, wicked and alluring all at once, and shucks off his heavy leather jacket. His eyes do a once-over on Steve, taking his time to check him out— which is great because Steve is stuck on all the glorious tattoos that have just been revealed. So much skin shown in his roughly chopped muscle-tee, swirling ink all down his arms. This dude is hot.

Silently, Steve curses Robin and the 20 dollars that is totally slipping away from him. Why did she have to be right all the time?

“Been waiting long?” The man, Daniel, asks as he makes himself comfortable across the table. He pushes his hair back with both hands, using one hand to gather it into a ponytail, holding it up to air out his neck and Steve now realises he is slightly puffed.

He must’ve run part of the way here, to avoid being later than he was. Steve can’t help but be slightly endeared by that fact.

The man grins again, “Promise I was trying to be on time but, you know how the subway is.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, any annoyance at being kept waiting melting away at his date’s sincerity.

“Not too long,” Steve admits, smiling to ease Daniel’s apparent concern. Across the table, Daniel slumps a little and releases his hair, his curls pooling back around his shoulders. Steve watches, entranced.

“Well, that’s good,” Daniel smiles, eyes bright like he really means it, and his hand darts out to steal the drinks menu from the edge of the table. He looks back over to Steve, a furrow in his brows. “You didn’t order anything?”

“I thought I should wait,” Steve says with a shrug. No point paying for food if your date never shows up.

Daniel looks up from the menu through his lashes and smiles, placing his elbow on the table and dropping his chin in the palm of his hand. “Aw, you’re sweet.”

Steve is a little embarrassed by how easily the compliment makes him blush, feeling his cheeks glow lightly. Across the table, Daniel seems to revel in it, drinking in the way Steve’s face filled with colour with a cheeky smile. His eyes flick back down to the menu.

“You know,” Daniel begins, keeping his eyes on the menu, scanning it with a hum. “Chrissy said you were good looking but I think she seriously undersold you.”

He takes his eyes off the menu to trail up Steve’s body, his gaze heavy. Steve feels a delighted zing go up his spine, feels the way he preens at Daniel’s attraction. Steve opens his mouth to respond, more than ready to return the flirt when—

“Can I get you two started with anything?”

The waitress interrupts. She’s poised with her notepad, standing at the edge of the booth. Daniel perks up and nods.

“Can I get a chocolate milkshake please?” He asks with a polite smile. Steve laughs lightly at his selection and Daniel’s gaze cuts from the waitress to Steve.

“What? Not a milkshake man?”

Steve tries to contain his grin, all too endeared by the man before him. He shakes his head and raises his hand in defense. “Nothing against milkshakes just… for dinner?”

Daniel gasps theatrically and his head snaps back to the waitress. “This man has never had the delight of a Harvey’s milkshake with his dinner. Please bring us two chocolate milkshakes!”

Steve watches as the waitress dutifully writes down the order and turns on her heel, heading for the kitchen. He turns back to his date and gapes, taken aback by the forwardness.

“Did you just order for me?”

“Did you just diss milkshakes?”

Steve scoffs, but even then he can’t stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He can’t believe it but he’s genuinely glad he waited this date out. It's not at all like he was expecting. Even Robin's short description of this dude pales in comparison to the real thing. Steve nudges his foot forward into Daniel’s shin lightly.

“I did not diss milkshakes,” Steve argues, his smile widening at how Daniel’s eyes dart to the table before back up at Steve with a grin.

“Uh huh,” Daniel nods, his voice sarcastic and 100% unbelieving of Steve’s insistence. “Just wait, okay? You’ll be changing your tune soon enough. Harvey’s milkshakes are class. I’ve had a thousand of my best ideas in here, sipping on a chocolate milkshake.”

Steve grins and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Under the table, he feels Daniel’s boot nudge against his leg gently— and he laughs to himself. This has gotta be the most teenage way of flirting and he’s fucking loving it.

“You know,” Steve begins hesitantly, letting his forearms lean up against the table. “You’re not quite what I expected, Daniel.”

Across the table, Daniel scrunches up his face, his expression one of pure befuddlement. He puts his hands flat on the table and leans forward.

“Wait, you think my name is Daniel?”

Steve splutters for a moment because even though the answer is duh, yes, it’s become increasingly apparent that the man across from him is not who he was expecting. But if he’s not Daniel, who is he?

Suddenly, the door chimes and someone else is entering the diner. It’s a man dressed like Steve — on the preppy side with hair that must’ve taken at least an hour. He scans the booth and spots Steve’s booth, wandering over, his eyes fixed on the man across from Steve.

“Hey, are you Eddie?” He asks confidently, ignoring Steve’s presence on the other side of the booth.

The man — Eddie — freezes as he glances up at the newcomer and then back down to Steve ahead of him. Steve deflates a little inside as he realises abruptly what’s happened— a mix-up of wrong dates that was completely warranted because this dude dresses exactly like Steve. Steve doesn't stare too long to see if he's any hotter.

Instead, he tries to give Eddie the all-clear with his eyes. He smiles polite as he can and gives a little nod to let him know it was alright to abandon him for the date he was supposed to go on. Not to get stuck with Steve.

Eddie clears his throat and smiles, not cheeky like he had with Steve, but stiff and polite. “Ah sorry man, I think you’ve got the wrong guy. My name's Daniel.”

Huh? Steve takes his eyes off the table to steal a glimpse at Eddie (is his name even Eddie?) and something inside him burns hotly when the man glances across at Steve and winks.

The man standing by the booth wavers for a moment, glancing between them in the booth as Steve schools his expression to neutral. After a moment of silence, there's a half-assed apology as the man retreats, heading back out the door he had just come through. The door chimes again on his way out.

Steve straightens up and peers over his shoulder, watching the door slowly swing shut. He turns back to the man across the booth and squints at him. The waitress returns briefly, dropping two large chocolate shakes onto the table, topped with a mountain of cream. She murmurs something about coming back to take their order in a moment.

"Wait, so who are you?" Steve asks, gently sliding his shake closer to him. "Daniel or Eddie?"

His date —well, his new date— has already begun taking a big long sip from his own milkshake, so enamored with it that when he pulls away there's a dot of cream on the end of his nose. He swallows with a satisfied ah and grins across the table at Steve, not noticing the dairy on his face.

"I'm whoever gets me talking with you a little bit longer."

Steve grins, an endeared roll of his eye at the blatant flirting but he can't deny how it makes his chest warm. He grabs one of the napkins and reaches forward, adoring how Eddie goes cross-eyed as he watches Steve smudge away the cream on his nose. He laughs sheepishly, giving his nose a little wipe with his own hand.

"I'm Eddie." He says, finally introducing himself. He doesn't offer his hand, just gives Steve a little nudge under the table and a grin over his milkshake. "And I think you just saved me from a terrible date."

Steve laughs, giving a little shake of his head. He finally goes in for a sip of his own milkshake— and it's just as heavenly as Eddie had promised, glorious chocolate dancing over his taste buds.

Steve groans quietly, eyes bright when he glances at the other man over his glass, entirely amused by how wide-eyed Eddie has become. He releases the straw and sits back, more invested in this date than he has been in... years. Stallion's got its mojo back. Or lion. Whatever.

"I'm Steve," He responds, giving a little nudge back under the table and a grin of his own. "And I think you saved me from being stood up."

[le-clair-de-lune]

for the lovely anon from this request: !Jealous Edmund Pevensie but shes a queen of Narnia too and they're "enemies."

hope you like it!! ended up longer than expected!! Since there was no specific time you wanted, I just based it during 'Prince Caspian'

You awoke to a still atmosphere, only the soft breaths of your friends to signify life. You hated it. You missed the life that once surrounded this place. The whispering of the trees as they danced, the laughs that echoed through the forests, the community that once made Narnia no longer existed.

Guilt washed over you as you thought of your friends, your people, you had abandoned them. And now you return a thousand years later, not as the mighty Kings and Queens they told tales of, but as helpless teenagers.

After you had left the first time, all you had longed for was to return. Now? you feel out of place, as if you are of no use.

Returning from your thoughts, you stretched your arms out with a groan. Sleeping on the forest floor was definitely not easy on your back. You rubbed softly at your eyes before they widened, eyeing the empty space Peter had once occupied.

Worried thoughts filled your head as you ran towards his makeshift bed, searching for any signs of what could have happened before reaching for the person closest to you. Who just happened to be Edmund.

"Wake up!" Edmund groaned at your vigorous shaking slapping at your hands "Get UP"

His eyes opened to see your panicked face. "Get the hell off of me" he scoffed shoving you causing you to fall back.

Normally you would have fought him for this, but you had other things on your mind. "He's gone" you exclaim pointing to where his brother should have been.

This caught attention, quickly rising grabbing his sword. As you moved to get up, Lucy and Susan had began to get up at the ruckus. All four of your froze when you heard the sound of clashing metal through the trees.

Edmund grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you up, both of you frozen in place when your chests brushed against each other. Your eyes widen at the closeness before shoving him with a scoff. "Let's go"

Following your 'Dear little friend', as Lucy so affectionately called him, you were lead to the scene. Peter battling a boy that seemed to be about your age, a handsome boy at that.

"Peter" Susan shrieked, gaining there attention.

----

The boy, Caspian, seemed to have taken a liking to Susan based on the looks they shared. But you said nothing of it whilst walking to where the army Caspian had gathered were.

Once Peter stopped to Caspian you immediately pulled him into a hug before slapping him upside the head. "You arse!" you exclaim, as he rubbed his head "I thought something happened to you"

He smiled sheepishly before apologizing, only to stop mid sentence when his brother roughly pushed past you.

"What the hell, Edmund" you gasped

The boy turned towards you, walking backwards as you approached him. "You were in the way" he shrugged

"You were in the way" you mimicked sticking out your tongue "Piss off"

As you both bickered, with shoves and eye rolls, which became more aggressive with each passing moment, Caspian turned to the others. "Are they always like this?" he whispered worried.

The siblings rolled their eyes, before nodding.

----

You were a family friend of the Pevensies. Your mothers had become friends due to you and Edmund being in the same class.

During the war, both your parents had been deployed. Your mother a nurse, and your father on the front lines. With no other close relatives you were taken in by the Pevensies. Much to Edmunds dismay.

You never got along with the boy. You both always had different views and opinions. That along both of yours competitive nature, did not mix well. You always ended in an argument.

The arguments got worse over time, to the point you couldn't stand being near each other.

The only time it had simmered down was during you life in Narnia, in fact you had both found that, more than once, you found pleasure in each others company.

Then you returned to your world. At it went back to the way it was.

----

"Oh shut it, you imbecile" you rolled your eyes having enough of Edmund's antics, walking towards Peter.

You had made it to the tomb.

"Oh yeah, go back to Peter" he let out, a look you hadn't seen before in his eyes. "Love Peter, don't ya?"

"Wha-"

"Peter's best friend, care about him so much" his voice growing louder.

"Why are yo-"

"Why don't you just go marry him?" he seethed

Your eyes widened at his words. "What are you talking about?"

He scoffed walking towards you "Oh please" he rolled his eyes "I thought something happened to you" he pouted mimicking you "I was soooo worried. I love you Peter. You mean so much to me. Why don't you just shag alre-"

You hand collided against his cheek. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

His eyes caught your glossy ones. "I-"

You walked away, not wanting to any more from him.

----

You heard footsteps behind you, whipping around prepared to shoo off Edmund. Only your eyes met those of the young prince instead.

"Are you alright you majesty?"

You let out a soft laugh, "You don't have to call me that"

He sighed clearly glad at your kindness.

"Would you like to join me?" you asked moving over.

You both sat in a comfortable silence. "I grew up hearing stories of you" He shared with a chuckle. "Stories of your travels, the way you took down the White Witch, do you know what each story mentioned?"

"Why not?" you shrug, no harm in hearing some stories.

"The bond you all had, the love you all had for each other, and" he paused looking at you "The love you and Edmund held for each other"

"W-what?" you sputtered "No" you shook your head "We can't stand eachother, we- we hate eachother"

"Well" Caspian smiled amused "People who 'hate' each other, don't look at each other the way you do."

You stayed quiet, looking over all the interactions you had with Edmund. The way you felt about him. Perhaps Caspian was right.

"The way we look at each other?" you questioned

Caspian nodded.

"The same look you and Susan share?" you cheekily smiled

Caspian grew pink but stayed silent. He was luckily saved by a cough behind you.

Edmund.

"I should go review the plan" Caspian left with a nod.

The room grew silent once more as you turned away from Edmund.

"I'm sorry" he sighed. "I don't know what I was thinking, I just-"

"You were just... jealous?" you cut him off

His eyes widened before he made his way in front of you. "Perhaps"

Your head shot up, locking eyes with him.

"Really?"

"Mhmm, I didn't realize it at first but" he kneeled in front of you "But I care for more deeply than I thought." he took a deep breath before letting out a quiet "I love you"

When he did not hear your voice, he turned away prepared to be turned down.

Your hand reached for his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "I love you too" you let out before meeting his lips.

The kiss was passionate, all the years of pent up emotions released in a single moment.

You were the one to pull away, resting your forehead against his.

"All the years of arguing, and we could have been doing this instead" he smirked.

"Shut up, Ed" you shoved him softly.

[love-toxin]

Okay but miscommunication trope is only super yummy when there’s a happy ending. Liiiike reader thinking they’re getting kicked out of their relationship in the fruity four, they’re not wanted anymore, maybe even bring replaced (ie with someone like Chrissy), and so every little sarcastic quip or ignoring is seen by them as the others not loving them anymore 🥺. Until one day it all comes crumbling down and I can’t decide with is more angsty, you breaking down telling the others they don’t love you anymore, or you trying to be brave by announcing you’re leaving and the fours hearts just dropping as they try to scramble to convince you to stay and why?! Why are you leaving!?!?! Please! But of course, happy ending when everything’s properly explained and angel is reassured they could never all fall out of love with them ❤️

oh.......miscommunication trope, you say? >:)

(cws: fruity four, gn!angelface, jealousy, post-s4, PTSD, huge miscommunication trope, domestic arguing, you have a tattoo + kinda shitty parents + bad home life, chrissy's a jealousy target, breakups, jopper appearance, you're childhood friends with jonathan, mentions of grief, an almost car crash, very mild head trauma, crying, angst with a happy ending--stick with me angels!)

Sometimes you wish Chrissy would just disappear. Just--poof--and she'd be gone.

It's awful of you to think, but you can't help it. She's just always around, ever since her breakup with Jason she's been by the house much more frequently. You were happy for her at first, because you liked her up until then, and she's always been nice to you. Plus, your partners saved her life back when all that crazy stuff with the Upside Down happened, an event you weren't privy to until after the fact, when you started dating them.

But she's always on Eddie, always chatting him up, always giggling at his attempts to cheer her up, and now she's attracted the attention of your other partners too. They're good friends, and that's good, but....why can you not shake this feeling that there's something more going on? That the arm touches over his jacket and the inside jokes aren't as friendly and harmless as they want you to think?

It's worse than that, though. The honeymoon phase is clearly over--cause all four of them just brush off your concerns, insisting that you're overreacting or just not addressing them at all. So you haven't been piping up when a joke hurts your feelings, and you've bitten your tongue when one of them has to reschedule something you've planned, and it's gotten to the point that they've wondered why you're so quiet all of a sudden. Why would they care? You think with a sour feeling in the back of your throat, rubbing the tattoo on your arm that Eddie gave you and wondering if that was just practice for someone else. You're not oblivious to the way Chrissy is slowly being invited into gatherings and dinners with everyone.....just like you were in the beginning. And after an especially heated fight with both Eddie and Robin, the worst one you've ever gotten into in your entire relationship, he got so pissed off that he just told you not to come to the dinner they had planned, and they'd take someone who actually wanted to go.

That was a couple days ago, and the air in the house has been strained for nobody else but you. You're equally as hurt by Eddie yelling at you as Robin silently going along with it, even though you slammed your bedroom door in her face when she tried to follow you, and waited until Eddie tugged her along to leave before you allowed yourself to cry. You're sick of the feeling that none of them really care for you, that you've been demoted to a piece of furniture in the house, because they've clearly lost interest. And they don't care when your things start disappearing from the house, when the clothes in your closet start dwindling, leaving behind nothing but the ones they've bought for you--no, they'd rather moon over Chrissy fucking Cunningham, and you've just taken all you think your heart can handle.

"I'm going out!" You call into the house from the front door, without any of their four voices responding. When you sigh, turn, and step out to turn the corner of the house, though, you bump right into one of them.

"Oh! Hey, baby." Steve steps back and readjusts the paper bag full of groceries he's got his arm around, keys halfway tucked into his pocket. "Where you off to?"

"Um....just, uh, gonna go visit my parents." You weren't really expecting him to pry, with how in your head you've been lately. But you're not gonna relent just cause one of the people who promised he'd love you forever, yet somehow can't be fucked enough to find the time to even watch a movie with you, asked you a question that remotely shows an ounce of concern.

"Your parents?" He blinks, shifting again to rest the bag on his hip. "You sure?"

That tone is so irritating. You used to love that almost parental sense of duty, the desire of his to know every detail of every problem so he can solve it. But now, you just feel suffocated, even though you're more distant from all of them now than you've ever been. "What, I'm not allowed to see my family?"

"Hey, that's not what I said! hold on," He moves to put the groceries inside, but you wave him off and start walking past him, your tone clearly frustrated as you encourage him to just forget it. But, in a tizzy, Steve hurriedly sets the bag down on the ground and runs to catch up with you, his hand descending on your arm only to be swatted away--but not for long, when he grabs it again and grips it tighter as he turns you to face him. "Jesus, wait! What's the big fuss? Did I do something?"

"Let me go, Steve." You refuse to look him in the eyes, but you can't break his grip. Why can't he just let it go, so it's less painful? "I don't wanna drag this out."

"Drag what out?" Finally, it dawns on him as his eyes dart from the keys clenched in your hand to the windows of your car parked in the driveway, boxes clearly piled up in the trunk and in the backseat that none of them seemed to notice you moving.

".....So that's it? You're breaking up with us?" Steve says it with disbelief, like he's expecting you to say something or anything different. It's almost a little satisfying when you respond in the way he never could have expected, even though he should've by now. Even though it feels bitter on your tongue as soon as it comes up.

"You know what? Yes. That's exactly it." You finally wrench your arm out of his grip, and each of those words sting as they come out, but you won't cry, you refuse to cry in front of Steve today. "I'm leaving tonight, and I'm never coming back to Hawkins again."

"Why?"

"Ask your new girlfriend."

"Who? Wait--Chrissy?" He shakes his head, and what comes out next is more cruel than you wanted to be--but he just won't get it, it won't happen unless you make them realize why they don't want you anymore.

"Wow, the jock has a brain! Well done, Stevie." He grimaces at once, and god, you wish it would all stuff itself back into your throat.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you being such a-"

"I know you're in love with her, Steve! For fuck's sakes, I'm not as stupid as you think I am!" You shout into the broken silence of the front lawn, wishing from the deepest reaches of your heart that this could all just be a horrible nightmare. Not reality. You don't want to be facing those big, soft eyes of Steve staring back at you in shock and pain, so you just turn your head and hope he doesn't see how much you're shaking.

"I get it, okay?! She's prettier than me, and nicer, and she doesn't have my fucking issues--and you guys clearly like her. It's like I don't even exist when she's around." You move aside to gesture towards your car, keys clutched in your hand so they won't fall or get taken from you, because you know Steve is reckless when he's upset. "None of you even noticed I was packing. Nancy fucking helped me put a box in yesterday."

Just then, both your heads turn at the sound of a car approaching--and just in time, you realize it's Eddie, his van's tires crunching the gravel of the long driveway as he pulls up to a stop beside your car. And lo and behold, sitting in the front seat with a smile on her face is her. Chrissy waves to you through the window, and as if your heart isn't in the process of shattering into shards that dig into your lungs, you raise your hand to acknowledge her back. You turn back to look at Steve one last time. Memorizing his face, because you know you won't ever see him again, as you take a few steps backward and hand him your parting words.

"Don't break her heart, Steve. It sucks."

With that, and with nothing but confliction reflecting back at you on his face, you turn on your heels and make your way around your car, bidding Eddie and Chrissy a stiff goodbye as they get out of the van and you get into your car. You reverse, roll back out of the driveway, and shift gears to start puttering down the road. And as soon as the house is out of your rearview mirror, that's when you feel those tears spilling out that won't stop until well after you pass the Leaving Hawkins sign on the side of the road.

A week into your new start in the city, you haven't gotten any more closure than when you left.

Living with your aunt isn't great, but it's something. The apartment is small, and you still haven't found a new job--you did call the Palace to inform them that you were quitting, though, to which you were greeted with nothing but indifference as you left a message on the answering machine. Figures that nobody in that town would miss me, you think, but you can't dwell on it for too long, because then you'll start thinking of them and it'll have you sobbing into your pillow again. Even worse is that you can't even fully express your pain to your family, your aunt, anybody--because they'll all think you're a freak, and it won't be surprising that your "relationship" ended so badly. You don't even really speak to your parents or your family in the first place, so you can't expect them to show you any sympathy. In fact, if they said anything to you, it would probably be that you should be glad it's over so you can live a normal life.

You don't want normal. You want your Robin talking your ear off about something gross for hours, you want Eddie burping into your ear and laughing, you want Nancy falling asleep on top of you and drooling on your chest, and Steve--you want Steve to come over while you're both on your breaks, talking with his mouth full and stealing bits of your lunch while kissing you in between each bite. You want that love back, you want it so badly it hurts, it hurts your heart every time something reminds you of them.

Maybe that's the worst part. That they don't want that anymore, they want someone that can share those memories with of that terrible tragedy, who knows how they feel and relates to those nightmares that wake them up in a cold sweat, who they can compare scars with and laugh with now that it's all over. They want someone scarred but beautiful, someone perfect, and you can never be that way no matter how hard you try. It explains why you haven't gotten a single phone call, or a letter, or anything since you left, and that treatment extends into your second week in Indy and right into the third. But it doesn't get any less painful, even when you get a job at a convenience store around the corner to busy yourself and help with the rent. Nor when you try going on a date or two, just to spend the whole dinner staring off into space as they talk and wondering what the people you loved are doing right now.

While you're behind the counter at work, your thoughts often drift back to that house by Maple Drive. The path around the back that leads into the woods, where Eddie would take you out for a smoke and to watch the stars for awhile--always with a walkie on hand, just in case, as Steve used to say. The pool that often sits empty, and sometimes you'd look out the window to see Nancy lifting up the cover on it to peek underneath, before breathing a visible sigh of relief and briskly walking away. Sometimes even in the middle of the night, creeping out the sliding glass door in her pajamas. And you remember that bed you often shared with Robin, who gets so clingy when she sleeps....and you wonder if she's sharing it with Chrissy now, if the cheerleader you always thought was such a nice girl is occupying the spot you thought would be yours forever.

Your brow furrows as you stock Camels on the shelf behind the counter, sliding each one into the perfect spot but feeling an itch of irritation when they don't line up. Is Eddie holding her right now? Is he coming up behind her every morning, and nuzzling his nose into her cheek as she stirs milk into her coffee? Is Nancy cuddling her and chatting her up about whatever project she has going on right now? Is Steve picking up her bag, and insisting she let her boyfriend hold the heavy stuff while she sits and looks pretty? They probably are. And they're probably much happier doing it with her, than they ever were with you.

Something thuds on the counter behind you, and you sigh without a sound as the gruff voice at your back asks for a pack while you're at it. Your fist squeezes around the box you've got in hand, and when you turn on your heels to toss it on to the tabletop and reach for the scanner, your eyes widen, and so do the ones on the moustached man that's towering in front of you with a petite woman at his side.

"Hop?"

You breathe out the name, trying to regain yourself as quick as you can--you're pretty used to keeping your tears back now, adjusted to having a straight face so nobody will pry or prod for your feelings. The former sheriff of your hometown that you used to duck out of sight from, laughing and hiding your goods with Eddie right behind you, is standing at your counter with a shocked expression, along with Joyce Byers who seems just as surprised to see you here. And with little else you can think of, you clear your throat and try to crack that tense silence.

"Uh...so, you two on vacation, or someth-"

"Are you fucking with me?"

Hopper cuts you off, hands bracing the edge of the counter as he looks you up and down, the two glass bottles of Coke getting shoved aside by him to fall over and roll across the counter as he reaches across the barrier to grab your arm. Without much struggle, because you have no clue what's going on, you allow the older man to yank your wrist up and turn it over, Joyce hurriedly pushing up your sleeve with her gaze pinned to your skin, like she's desperately searching for something that has nothing to do with your confused questions spilling out on top of each other.

When they've finally uncovered that patch of skin they were looking for, the two of them share a look between themselves, before finally looking back up to acknowledge how baffled and worried you are. It isn't until you scan down to see what they found that the pieces start coming together, the black ink of the tattoo Eddie gave you when you first started dating peeking out at you. It's just a thin, mid-sized black circle on your inner forearm, with five points reaching outward like a sun. But the detail of it has always enchanted you, Eddie's diligent stare as he inked it into your skin burned into your mind. You've considered getting it covered since then, but....you can't bring yourself to do it yet.

"I'll call it in," Hopper says cryptically, stepping back and turning away to bring out the walkie from his belt and start mumbling into it. In the meanwhile, you're left with his partner, and the lady you've practically grown up with since she babysat you a long time ago. You often forget that time, when you and Jonathan would run around her backyard with sticks and rocks to try and build your own castle, while his baby brother watched from the stairs and giggled at your antics. You were so young, and so carefree, it seemed....but it was a happy time, one of few before you met those four.

"Honey, you're alright?" Joyce's voice quivers, anxious for the answer, but you nod as soon as her question registers because you hate to see her like this.

"Ye...Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" She circles round the counter, coming right in for a hug that you return without question. The squeeze is tight, like a mother's embrace upon returning home from a long time away, and you instantly feel a pinch of guilt for neglecting to include her in your plan to leave Hawkins. Now that you think about it, you really didn't tell anyone, except....

"-Kid, relax, we're coming there. No, do not get in your car, sit your ass down so you're there when we get back! Jesus," Hop gets more animated as he talks over the channel, and your hug splits as your head swivels towards the sound of a familiar voice through the static. Steve.

"Are they there? Let me talk to them! Please, Hopper, let me hear their voice-"

It's so frantic, desperate. The first time you've heard one of their voices in what feels like your whole life, and you have to struggle not to cave, bringing a shaky hand up over your mouth as you whisper a "What's going on?" to Joyce. And with your ears perked up, you can distinguish the background noise in the transmission--there are three other distinct voices, talking just as fearfully amongst themselves as they also try to get through to Hop. Nancy, Eddie, and Robin, each with as much indignation as Steve, who must be holding the other walkie.

"We're coming down right now, kid. Just try to calm down in the meantime." With that, Hopper shuts the antenna and gestures for you to follow him, the sweet woman at your side holding your arm as you obey him, like she's afraid you'll vanish if she lets go. You're led out of the light of the fluorescent bulbs overhead to Hop's truck parked by the curb--you at least have the sense to fumble with your keys and lock the front door before you leave--you let him open the door and sit yourself in the backseat, and shakily buckle yourself in as they get in front with promises to explain everything. Still struck dumb with shock to the point that it hasn't really registered that you just left work in the middle of your shift.

But you get an idea of what's happening when you turn your head, and catch a glimpse of a scattered stack of papers on the seat beside you out of your peripheral. Tentatively, as Hop starts up the ignition, your fingers brush over one of the nearest pages--and when you lift it up to survey it closer, the two of them notice you and share another sobering look between them. What's staring back at you is undeniably, unmistakably, a missing person's ad. And the picture is one you recognize immediately, because it's yours. Your photo, details of your last sighting, a description of your tattoo, a list of things for people to look out for....

"You really worried everyone back home, kid."

Suddenly, a bitterness rises up inside you, and the paper crumples slightly as you realize what's really happening. "I'm fine. I just...decided to get out of Hawkins."

"Yeah, well, maybe tell your roommates that, first."

"Hop-"

"They didn't care! I told Steve anyways, so what's the big fucking deal?" Even though Joyce flinches at you raising your voice, you can't be quiet right now. Anger is something you've been almost too numb to endure these last few weeks, but now you could just put your fist straight through Hopper's window--they put up such a fuss for what? To drag you back to that shitty inbred town in the sticks, just to make sure they didn't want you in the first place? It's bullshit.

"They sure as shit care!" Hop shouts right back, casting his signature scowl over his shoulder as he drives through semi-empty streets. It's so late, and so dark, it's unlikely there'll even be many pedestrians. "Do you realize how many times Nancy Wheeler has shown up on my doorstep, begging me to go on another search and rescue for you?! They're worried sick!"

"Why?"

There's silence for awhile, very tense silence, before you repeat your question that says much more than just that one word.

"....Because they thought you were gone. They thought you were there."

There. That's what he means--the other world, the Upside Down. The place you've never seen, only heard horror stories about and snatches of descriptions of when you comforted one of them during a night terror. The missing people, the murders, the experiments....they're all so hard to believe, but then again, you can't deny Will's remarkable return from the dead or Barbara Holland's coverup death, both of which you've been close enough to to know that there's no way they're just elaborate lies.

So they were worried you had died. That your disappearance wasn't of your own volition. They're going to be in for an unfortunate surprise, but by the tightly shut locks on Hopper's truck doors, you know there's no getting out of this until he brings you right back to drop you in their laps.

"We came here to look for you. Your mom finally told us you had an aunt in the city." Joyce offers you another piece to the puzzle, but your mind is still stuck on the fact that your ex-partners seemed so desperate over the walkie. They....they wouldn't want you to die, but that doesn't mean they want you. Figures that your parents would make it more difficult for two of the only people that even remotely have any concern for you too, they're probably profiting off all that glorious attention of having a missing child.

"I have a life here, now. I don't want to go back." Lies. You know it's all lies.

"Listen, kid, whatever happened with your friends, I promise it's not worth throwing in the towel. You've gotta see things through." Clearly it's not worth an argument, you'd rather save your energy at this point. You're gonna need plenty to face that hard conversation you know is coming, when you're gonna have to confirm to them directly that you're moving on. No more running away, or hiding from the problem. You have to face it.

"You don't know anything about me, or them."

The already long drive drags on even longer in the silence that follows, and you make a mental note to call your aunt when they get you back to Hawkins, so she doesn't freak out when she comes home to an empty apartment. You can imagine your manager's gonna call and cuss you out before firing you for leaving the store unattended, too, and you groan and let your head hit the seat behind you. Now you're gonna have to find another job, gonna have to explain to your aunt what you did....or maybe she won't even notice your absence, not until someone makes a fuss about it.

Your mind is left racing with so many thoughts and worries that the scenery passes by without note, the moon barely shining any light on the landscape, like it's all one huge plain with little dots for buildings and trees. Like one big hellscape, but it's numb and frozen over with nothing left but a mocking echo of the world that's no longer here. You don't even really recognize your surroundings until a couple hours have passed, and the Welcome To Hawkins sign zips by and has you sitting up in your seat. Just as you pass it, though, you think you see the glimmer of another set of headlights, a rarity on these quiet streets--and then your whole world shifts violently.

"Shit!" Hop curses as he swerves suddenly, and Joyce shrieks as you all nearly careen off the road and into the ditch, your head cracking against the window and bouncing off for you to clutch at it in pain. A groan is all you can get out when he calls back to you, the dizzy feeling making you a little sick, but as you lift your head and the truck rolls to a stop, you spot the culprit of that downright suicidal speed driving that nearly caused a head-on collision.

Your heart is pierced with a deep chill immediately. You'd recognize that van anywhere, and that curly mane of hair as the driver stumbles out his door even moreso. He's not hurt, just dazed--and for the moment, your brain doesn't immediately go to the question of why you should even care. As he stands there in the road, in the dark, Eddie's form is lit up by the headlights still shining without a flicker, but he doesn't flinch even when it must be glaring directly into his eyes, just holds a hand up to block it out. And when they meet yours as you lean over the console to see him, he doesn't wait a second, hurrying around the passenger's side of the truck to fumble for the handle of your door. With a click, and the light above you switching on as a beeping starts to emit from the vehicle, Eddie's suddenly cramming himself into the backseat with you--and there's tears already wetting his cheeks as he grabs you in a hug, gasping in a shaky lungful of breath like he's shocked he's really touching you. Crying and mumbling into your hair, Eddie buckles when you squeeze him back, falling victim to that desire in the deepest part of your soul that just wanted to hold him again.

"I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it baby, I didn't--everything I said, I swear, I was being such a fucking moron-" He starts babbling from nowhere, and his voice itself is a comfort, having not heard it next to your ear for so long that it aches now.

"Eddie-"

"You're mine, okay?! You're my everything!" He cries, burying his face even deeper into your neck and inhaling whatever scent he can get. You're stunned into staying limp, letting his hands grab and squeeze at you wherever they land--his curly hair tickles your cheek and sticks to it, and that sensation alone drags tears up to the surface, only allowing them to spill when you hear him whispering those croaked pleas of "I love you, I love you, I love you" until you're crying right along with him. It's been so long since you heard it, you'd started believing it was never really true.

It takes minutes that feel like hours for you to both calm down enough to look at each other, your face cradled in Eddie's rough hands as he sniffles and murmurs a "You're so beautiful" so innocently sincere, that it instantly makes you wish you had never left. He smiles, and the world that seems so dark grows a little brighter around you. You're not even privy to the looks Joyce and Hopper are giving each other in the front seat, clearly a little surprised at the passion you two share that nobody else has ever seen. But they know. And when Eddie starts pulling you out of your seat with the promise to take you back, Hop only reminds him to drive safely before he allows you two to shut the truck's door and circle round the vehicle with Eddie's arm clinging to your waist. The air hits you, cool and dry, just like it always is in Hawkins. And when he opens your door for you and waits for you to clamber in, before getting in on the other side and fumbling contently with his keys, you're not sure you really know what to expect. He briefly elaborates that he'd gotten worried, and that he's just glad he spotted Hop's truck before he'd sped all the way out of Hawkins and missed you--but it doesn't last, because soon he's grabbing your thigh and sighing out a breath of relief.

"We'll talk about everything when we get home. For now, I just want to hold you." Eddie offers his hand to you, giving it a grateful squeeze when you slip yours into it and interlace your fingers together.

They'll all hate me for real, this time.

That's exactly how the drive goes, Eddie's shoulders relaxed even as he steers with one hand, and navigates while stealing glances over at you with relief written all over his face, and brings your hands up to kiss your knuckles every so often. But he's just one. The other three....your heart sinks as you run over that last conversation you had with Steve, the way you'd ignored Robin completely, and how you pretended everything was absolutely fine with Nancy up until the moment you left. And it somehow dawns on you only then--they thought you were gone, that you had been taken to the Upside Down, and your heart sinks as you watch the trees pass by in clusters while that dread creeps closer down the road that's so familiar.

Not even the comforting warmth of Eddie's hand could drive that thought out of your mind, even less so when he turns and you hit that patch of gravel that leads up the driveway. He'll stop soon, and you'll be facing the music....and when Eddie shifts into park, you sort of float from your seat to the walkway where you threw your feelings back into Steve's face, and up towards the front door that Eddie opens for you before you cross the threshold into the house. It does feel like home, and you don't want to lose it right on the welcome mat, so you blink away any tears that threaten to spill before you quietly follow him into the living room.

Three heads turn to look your way, too inundated in conversation around the coffee table to hear the door opening, but that stops the second their eyes land on you. Steve and Robin are the ones sitting closest to where you stand, but Nancy's the one that makes her way to you first, her lower lip already quivering enough to break into a sob as she crosses the patch of carpet to throw her arms around you. She's strong enough to grip you tight enough to hurt, but too weak to keep herself on her feet, and you end up sinking to the floor with her as your name floods out of her lungs on repeat, getting louder and louder and louder until she's wailing. You could swear the walls rattle with the volume she cries at, completely coming apart in your arms like you've never seen her do before.

"Don't you ever do that to me again!" She shouts, yet her voice is like a child's, wobbling and whiny and so miserably pitiful that it pains you even to listen to it, especially when she's clutching you so close to her body--so afraid that you won't be there when she pulls away, so she refuses to. You don't have any right to cry when she's so distraught, but with your head over her shoulder, the other two watch your lips curve downwards and your eyes screw shut into a flood of tears that won't stop easily.

"I'm sorry, Nancy. I'm okay." You whimper, burying your face into her curls until your lips brush her jawline, and she shudders into each gentle, praiseworthy kiss that you press there. Up until her sobs subside, and she breaths a sigh of relief that you can feel from her chest against yours, each one sinking and rising into each other as you breathe along with her. "I thought you didn't want me anymore."

She shakes her head, and finally pulls herself back to look at you, a fresh wave of tears streaming down her cheeks when she gets a good look at you. Nancy touches your face, thumbs away your own tears--and you know she's not just looking at you, but the girl she lost so long ago, whose smile she sees in yours on those days she misses her the most dearly. "I never wanted you more when I thought you weren't coming back," She whispers back. "How could I not want you? I love you."

The kiss she lays upon your lips is breathtaking, shaking and sweet and just....everything. Everything you missed and craved like air and water and life.

You're already halfway into her embrace when she laughs out that half-hearted joke, walking back with you a couple steps when you throw yourself into it. And she squeezes you so tight, so hard, the kisses a flurry of needy, fluttering touches all over your face until she somehow finds your lips--and when she does, she makes that last one a kiss you won't shake off for days, the feeling tingling your lips even when she pulls away. Still rubbing that spot on your back that she knows is sensitive, Robin grips you in an even harder hug that nearly cracks your spine, and whispers into your ear: "I'm so happy you're here with me." before she kisses you one last time, last one, she swears, fingers crossed behind your back. But then, she takes notice to the man standing just a foot away--and she lets you go to turn you around, her fingertips grazing your arms as you finally face him.

"Yeah, she, uh....she cried, like, every night," Even as Robin says it and breaks the quiet, she herself is rubbing tears from her cheeks, trying to keep that smile going as you stand and Nancy loosens her hold. She moves aside for Eddie to lay his hands on her shoulders from behind, and keep her steady on her feet. "So did Steve. I told you he cries when we watch Princess Bride!"

"I-I....I didn't mean it, Steve. I never...I've never thought you were dumb." Your voice comes out as a whimper, fingers fiddling with each other as you endure that big, brown, wide-eyed stare.

"I know." He breathes, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He wants to move, he's antsy, but he won't take another step. "I know, baby."

"Can I hug you?" Steve just nods, but his lip quivers and his features gain that pathetic, sad puppy look, because he was hoping and praying you would say those very words. Your heart soars as he meets your step forward and flings his strong arms tight around your body, crushing you with his huge stature but never loosening up. He instantly brings his hand up to cradle your head against his chest, kissing the crown of it with so much firmness that you know he's reaffirming you're really standing in front of him again.

"I shouldn't have let you leave. I should've slashed your damn tires." He chuckles along with you at the lighthearted crack at breaking the tension, until he chokes up again into a sob. "Nobody could ever replace you. And I swear, I'll never break your heart again."

Steve holds you for a long time, squeezing you and kissing you and brushing strands of hair from your eyes to just look at you, surveying the face of the love he feared he'd never get to cherish again. It's a long time coming, and when he's done, there are three other warm bodies in the room that need attention from the sweet thing they've been killing themselves over these last few weeks.

From there, they catch you up with what had happened in your absence. Steve had walked off to clear his head after you left, and hadn't returned until late in the day--burst through the front door during an unusually quiet dinner and sent them all into a panic, when he realized you really had left and you weren't coming back. The four of them had jumped into action to split up and look for you, Nancy contacted your parents and other family while Steve and Robin tried to find some hint of your whereabouts in the house, cracking open your drawers and notes and realizing how much of your stuff was missing. Meanwhile, Eddie had driven in circles round Hawkins and the outer city limits, trying to find any trace of your car in the dark with the help of passing streetlights.

When those attempts had failed after stretching out into the next day to mid-afternoon, and with your very unhelpful parents insisting they had no idea where you could've gone, that's when your partners had started printing out missing person's flyers and put in an official report with the sheriff's office. And, seemingly having forgotten that you were really the only one who ever checked the voicemail at work, your message tendering your resignation had been errantly erased by your manager--worrying them even further when they questioned him, because if you were really planning on moving away like you said, how could you not tell your employer? It wasn't like you. Their fears had only gotten stronger from there.

The worst had yet to come, though. Because when your car had been found on the side of the road way out in the middle of nowhere, miles and miles away from Hawkins and completely destroyed, the four of them had reached the point of no return. The plates had been torn off, but it was your exact make and model of car, and what were they supposed to believe? That it was just coincidence? That's what Hopper had tried to reassure them with, tried to insist that plenty of cars get found gutted out in the bush, but they couldn't be convinced that it was just some freak happenstance and delude themselves to think that you were fine and dandy somewhere else. The same thing had happened to Max's stepbrother, and they all knew how that had ended.

So started the search parties, the nights spent staying up and studying maps by lamplight, the microwave meals in place of home cooking and sleeping in shifts by the phone, waiting and hoping for some kind of clue to your whereabouts to appear. Finding you had become more important than eating, proper sleep, showering, or attention paid to anything aside from looking towards the horizon to see if you would magically walk back into their lives.

And all that time, you had believed nothing but that they couldn't care less where you were, or what you were doing. When in reality, they could think of nothing but you. That was what had led Eddie to nearly crash into you as you re-entered Hawkins, having been pacing the living room for those long hours after Hop's call until he just couldn't take it anymore--despite the other three trying to stop him, he had dashed out to his van and peeled out of the driveway like a lunatic, just for the slightest chance that he might be there when you needed help. It was so stupid, so reckless, and you'll remember that moment he came rushing around the side of the truck to get to you forever.

Despite them reassuring you about Chrissy, too, when the tears have dried--promising you she's nothing but a friend, and they would have no problems limiting her interaction with all of you from now on--you wave it away, smiling off your stupidity and letting them know that it's fine. You were just being dumb, acting crazy, but you're fine now. And Eddie's eyes narrow at that.

"You're not crazy." He murmurs absentmindedly, and says nothing more until he can slip away from your reunion, and reach the phone in the kitchen. While you're busy dealing with your other partner's crippling absence of affection, he taps his blunt nails into each button, numbly dialing the number he's memorized until the ringing starts and stops.

"Hey, Chris. Angel's back home."

"Oh, that's great! Oh...Eddie, I'm so happy for you. You must be relieved-"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Listen, no hard feelings, but....you're my friend, so I'm just gonna be straight. Don't come by the house anymore."

"I--what? Really? I....Eddie, I'm sorry, if I did something to upset you-"

"No, no, nothing you did. Well, not really. But I know how you feel, Chris, and I can't really ignore it anymore." He swallows deeply, and sucks on his teeth as he tries to think of some better way to say it. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I don't feel the same. I never have, and I'm sorry if I made you feel like that might change."

"......So that's it?"

"That's it. We can still be friends, but we need space for awhile first, and I'm not gonna ignore you flirting with me anymore. I'm in love and it's not gonna change. Sorry."

"Can we at least talk about it, Eddie? Please? I'd rather talk this out in person."

"No. Bye, Chrissy."

He thuds the phone back on the receiver just a little too hard, and brings his hand up to rub at his neck and try and get the ache out. That didn't feel good, having to confront one of his very few friends with a truth he just wanted to ignore--but the sick feeling he has now can't even compare to how he felt when you were away, and it's an easy decision to make in that regard. He'd take you over her any day. It's a bit of a guilty feeling, but he knows it's the truth even if it hurts Chrissy's feelings, and he's happy even so.

"....Yeah, I missed you real bad, sweetheart. Don't you ever think I wouldn't....or else you are crazy."

"Eddie?" You call out from the living room, and following that sweet voice to its source, he feels himself light up at the sight of you settled back into the couch. Legs tucked up in Robin's lap, halfway into Steve and Nancy's, looking so comfortable and cute as you look up at him. You're where you belong. He's so distracted by the glee and relief of having you home, he didn't even realize how quiet it had been between you all until he came right back from his task. You say nothing more, just hold your arms out to him--and when he gets close enough, you capture him with those pretty eyes of yours, and melt away any ill feeling as you pull him into your chest.

[he-calls-me-kitten]

Ah, thank god <33

Since I don't have the balls to write this myself -- what about the bros with a very flirtatious reader-? One that just teases them non-stop throughout the whole day, and the bros punish them for it-?

(Ik this is a rlly boring idea but AKSKDKSNS)

First of all, it's not boring AT ALL! Do you know how much I love it when MC takes charge??? And this right here???!!! THIS IS GOLDEN HEHEHE! We need more confident flirty representation okay!!

No Rest for the Loving

Seriously you could be the biggest tease in all three realms. They thought they had seen everything with Asmo, but lo and behold, came along you. It was quite literally, getting harder to live with you in the same house. But there's only so much they can hold back until their patience runs out.

Lucifer face palms as you take a seat on his lap, offering to 'help with paperwork'. You've not even shifted yet, but he's already stimulated - knowing your cheeky tricks. And the fact that you've been constantly doing it the entire day. First in the meeting room and now in his room.

"You look extra tired. Look at all the lines on your forehead." You hold his face tenderly, pretending to kiss it better. "Ahaha, you look so much better when you're flushed red."

"Hmph, is that so?" Lucifer glanced up towards his door to see if it was locked. "In that case, you might look better like this." Papers flew and pens and quills scattered and fell off the desk as he placed you on it and laid you down.

You brace yourself as he grinds against you mercilessly. You throw your head back when you're almost at your climax and then he pulls back. You groan into your hands because you know he won't be relieving you for a while.

Mammon grumbled under his breath as he hung from the ceiling, waiting for you to stop laughing. "Are ya done laughing your head off yet? Can you get me down already?"

"Oh come on, you're asking me to go against Lucifer's orders to keep you like this, atleast let me have my fun won't you?" You cooed, running a finger down his chiselled abs exposed from hanging upside down.

"Oi! I told you to stop that! This is the fourth time! What's with you and my stomach anyway?!" He blushed furiously, his skin on fire from your fingers.

"I just like how it feels." You answered cheekily, as you untied him from the ropes. "Now there, all done. Now we're even."

"No..." You were about to leave when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, the other hand cupping your bottom. Squeezing and groping it as he pleased, it sent electricity up your spine. "We'll be even after I'm done with my turn."

"Ack! There's no way! I can't possibly win against you!" Leviathan said as he lost another round of the staring contest with you. "Also is it really okay for you to sit there and have an ice cream during this?!"

"What's wrong with the ice cream, I got you the Ruri one in your favourite flavour too didn't I?" You said, deliberately making a big show of eating the stick of ice cream in a erotic way. "My, my what are you imagining in that head of yours, Levi?"

Levi turned even redder at the accusation. Oh shit. Had you caught him staring at your tongue the whole time? "I'm not imagining anything! And besides you..." He racked his brain for a good one liner, inspireed by his many romance novels."Besides you couldn't handle me anyway!"

"Oh, do you want a tongue-off to put it to the test?" You regretted suggesting that seconds later. Now your endless moans were muffled by his long forked tongue invading your mouth. You tried to surrender the fight, grabbing his shirt in fistfuls, but he only shoved his tongue deeper inside in crazed frenzy, holding you firmly in place. This wasn't a fight you could ever win as his tail entered the picture too

Satan was trying so hard to hide how flustered he was. "MC, this is just getting silly now." He said trying very hard not to start gazing down at you just sitting on the floor, between his legs, head resting on his thigh. The cat ears on your head didn't help either.

"But I'm not even doing anything." You said with mock innocence, as if you hadn't made a show of crawling to him on all fours and plopped your head dangerously close to his growing arousal. "Oh, am I to blame for this?"

You turned around and grazed your hand on his crotch. He grabbed your wrist but didn't push your hand away. "Oh my, you could totally mess up my insides with this. If you know how to use it of course."

"Sure, I'll show you what I can do if you can put that pretty little mouth to use." You tried very hard to be confident but it all went down the drain now that you whimpered with his length hitting the back of your throat. He was determined not to let you walk for the next few days.

Outdoing Asmo in terms of teasing was no easy feat, but you managed it anyway. You combined his love for fashion and you very efficiently by wearing the most enticing thing you could find in his wardrobe.

All he had to do was walk in and see you sprawled on his bed, fidgeting with your phone. He gasped, dropping his many shopping bags - an impatient frenzy in his eyes.

"It seems you really like what you see." You chuckled at the obvious reaction his pants were too tight to hide. Within seconds he was on top of you, leaving lipstick stains over your exposed skin and somehow skillfully fucking you with the outfit still on. It was after the first 8 rounds you realised what a mistake you'd made.

"Oh no MC, don't drift off just yet! There's a few more outfits I'd like to fuck you in." He said, pulling you onto his lap. Your head lulled to the side, resting on his shoulder. What the hell were you thinking tempting the Avatar of Lust?

The one thing you learnt about the twins is that you cannot tempt them while they are in the same room. Whether they take turns or tag team to pleasure you, you are always unable to function properly for the next few days.

Belphie takes his revenge by lazily thrusting inside you, constantly dangling you over the edge of your release.

You beg and plead but he doesn't increase his speed until the very end, where even his hands add to the party. "See how easy it is to turn the tables on you? You thought I'd let you go easy after how grinded against me in the crowded bus?"

Beel goes quiet, even apologetic right before he goes feral. As if he knows exactly how badly he's going to ruin you.

The thing about the way he overstimulates you with tongue is that you can't tell if he's being deliberate or if his hunger is just that intense. And you never ever know when he's going to be full. "I'm sorry MC, one last time I promise...it's hard to resist your taste... especially since you offered..."

[jo-harrington]

Leave of Absence (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie has royally fucked everything up and he needs to fix it. But after an unexpected emergency back home, he steps up to be there for Reader, just like she's always there for him.

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.05

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Slow burn, mutual pining, angsty, emotional, fluffy, family problems, death in the family, loss, grief, pain and comfort, road trip, avoidance of feelings, Minor religious themes, mention of Catholic Church/Reader's family is Catholic but no overarching catholicism (that's what my other story is for)

Note: Woof ok this was an uphill battle FOR A YEAR. I'm gonna say the reason that Store Manager Verse exists in its present form is because of THIS CHAPTER RIGHT HERE. Before I could bring my two silly babies here to this moment, they needed to have some serious foundations laid down. Is it the best chapter? Probably not. But I'm incredibly happy that it's here and it's done.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other Eddie stories.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

He was nervous.

"Stacey."

Of course he was nervous.

"Freak."

And what did he do when he was nervous? He talked.

"Hey now, I'm wounded," Eddie laid a hand across his chest, trying to keep the cool guy exterior. "Calling me a freak? Did I or did I not just help you with that flat tire last week?"

He was surprised when Stacey paused, a barb surely caught on the end of her tongue. She even looked a little embarrassed for a moment before her own frosty expression returned and she had the decency to look down her nose at him.

Sticking to the status quo.

"I know you're trying to put my boss under a love spell or hypnosis or something," she rolled her eyes. "So don't act like you would have helped any other time if she hadn't asked. Gotta keep her buttered up so you can get in her pants. Gag."

The typical stab of insult was welcome; the rest of it...wasn't. Not when it came to you. Not after what happened on Sunday. Not when he was nervous.

Sunday...

What started out as a normal night for the two of you had quickly become a nightmare. For him at least.

Well...it had been a dream at first. Hanging out. Food, laughter, music; it was nothing out of the norm for a Sunday night together. But then he had to go and suggest a little weed, where you had some kind of...bad reaction. To try and get your mind off the panic that had quickly taken over your body...he'd done the first thing that came to mind.

The only thing that came to mind lately when you were around.

He kissed you.

And he kept kissing you because you hadn't pushed him away. In fact, you’d kissed him harder.

For minutes or hours, he couldn't quite tell, he was overjoyed and he basked in being surrounded by you, in finding pleasure with you.

Finding pleasure. God, there was that poet's heart Mrs. Mills always told him he had. Almost fucking. Grinding one out on his couch. But yeah...finding pleasure worked too. Because it wasn't just a meaningless romp; he was kind of crazy about you, so of course it was gonna be special. Poetic.

How long had he been on the edge about confessing his feelings and ruining your friendship? He was the only one to blame when it came to keeping his mouth shut; Kyle had been telling him to just ask you out and plant one on you forever. And then Eddie did and it was perfect.

Until it wasn't. Until Wayne came home and Eddie had seen the panic and the fear and the...realization in your eyes, and he knew how badly he'd fucked up. Let alone the fact that you immediately ran away.

You’d been avoiding him for a few days. “Avoiding him,” as though school and work hadn't been putting you on opposite schedules. Still, there were no phone calls. No waiting to take your breaks with him. Only awkward glances as he passed your store on the way to start his shift, or a strained smile as you passed each other in the parking lot as he was coming and you were going.

And now Stacey was…being Stacey.

Had you told her? Complained about him? Made it known to your employees that the two of you had made a huge mistake.

No you would never…

Still, his nerves got the better of him and although he didn’t want to seem desperate, especially around Stacey of all people, he was.

"...did she say that or..." He paused and shook his head. "Where is your boss anyway? She’s supposed to close tonight right?”

Stacey looked a little unsure again and this time it made his stomach turn.

People were usually nervous around Eddie, but he had grown plenty used to that reaction from a wide array of classmates and neighbors.

Once again, when it came to you, especially given the circumstances, things were different. Maybe that's what was happening here? Maybe Stacey knew something he didn't, and you'd told her not to say anything so you could let him down easily.

Eddie was generally a level-headed guy but sometimes...sometimes...it didn't matter if he had a level head because the entire world was tipping on its side.

Who had you told? Stacey for sure...maybe Chrissy? Chrissy always avoided him at school thanks to his resident freak status, Starcourt Mall be damned. What about Mindy? Mindy was your only other confidante outside of him; what did she know? Had she convinced you to...to what? Dump him as a friend? Take the time you needed to avoid him? Somewhere between Sunday and today, had you finally come to the realization that he had been dreading all along. That he wasn't worth your time?

"Um, yeah,” Stacey finally replied and Eddie blinked himself back to reality. She picked at her cuticles and avoided his eyes. Never a good sign. “Well she was supposed to but Mindy was here when I clocked in. She's sick or something, I don't know. Mindy wouldn't say exactly...but she never calls out so..."

“Well where’s Mindy now?” he asked, almost desperately.

“She’s finishing up her break in the back,” she explained with a nod. “I can go see if she’s done.”

She disappeared into the stockroom, leaving him alone in the store.

He was unsure how to feel. Relief coursed through him; you weren’t avoiding him, you were simply not here. But on the other hand, what if you weren't here because you were avoiding him?

What if Stacey didn't know anything but Mindy did. Because no, you never called off. Ever. A fact that you had told him when he suggested playing hooky one busy Saturday when you were overwhelmed by a never-ending mid shift.

“I never leave early. I never take a sick day.”

“Well, shit, did you have perfect attendance in school too?”

“Uhm,” you hesitated, biting your lip naughtily. “I’m not at will to say.”

“Oh, you bad girl.”

"If it isn't our resident Van Halen impersonator," Mindy greeted as she walked out of the stockroom. Her usual sing-songs mom voice replaced by a gentler one as she smiled at him solemnly. "She's taking a few sick days. Should be back in time for your night out on Sunday, I hope."

"She's sick?" Eddie asked skeptically. "Wasn’t she here yesterday, she looked fi--"

"Why don't you give her a call," she insisted. She glanced over to the stock room door and as Eddie tracked her gaze, he saw Stacey eavesdropping. "Actually I was gonna stop by after work. Why don't you go? That way it's not a game of telephone.

"I'm sure she could really use a friend right now."

---

Eddie had never been inside of your apartment before.

He knew where you lived, sure; he'd dropped you off or picked you up a few times, especially once the two of you started planning dates outings outside of the usual Sundays. He'd never even rang the bell, if he was being honest. You usually watched out the window eagerly when you were expecting him to arrive.

The realization hit him as he stood there at the little residential door between the bakery and the furniture store, staring at your name on a little Dymo punch label next to the buzzer that he'd just jammed his finger into, and it filled him with doubt.

You'd been to the trailer a few times. Seen all of his favorite places, tried all of his favorite foods. Listened patiently to his insecurities and issues. Still, you seemed to keep him at arms length, if he didn't even know what your apartment looked like; did you have posters on the walls or pictures of your family? What color was your couch? Or the towels in your bathroom?

He knew so much about you but did he really know you, and did you even want him to?

The door buzzed open and Eddie took the stairs up to your landing two at a time, all the while worrying and overthinking: You weren't expecting him and he was beginning to doubt that you even wanted him here in the first place. Sure, Mindy told him to go over...but was this taking it a step too far?

He started preparing an apology as he closed the final few distance to your door and it swung open--

"I'm sorry I fucked up, I didn't mean to break your trust. I'll do anything...anything...if you'll just forgive me. If you just give me another chance."

--and he saw the sorry state you were in.

Hair and clothes mussed, eyes bloodshot and puffy, a bundle of black fabric clenched tightly in your hands; the shine of tears and snot was accentuated by the incandescent lights in the hallway.

"Eddie," you whispered in a strained, broken voice, then you dropped the fabric to cross the threshold of your apartment and bury your face into his shirt. He panicked for a moment, arms held uselessly at his sides as your tears penetrated the worn fabric at his shoulder, but he quickly engulfed you in a hug.

"I'm sorry," you both spoke over one another, then you pulled back and stared him straight in the eye. "You're sorry? I'm sorry."

"No," you shook your head. "I'm sorry. I...I should have done better, I shouldn't have--"

"I crossed a line and I ruined our friendship and--"

You both continued talking over one another, each half-listening to what the other had to say as you got your own apologies out, until you both synced back up again.

"I fucked up and I'm sorry."

Your shoulders and chests heaved from the cacophony of emotion and a tense laugh was shared between the two of you. Then Eddie came to a realization.

"If you're sorry..." he frowned and let his eyes rake over you again. "If you thought that you hurt or scared me--which you didn't, by the way. It was...it was me, my mistake--why are you crying?"

You worried your lip for a second and a lone tear escaped your eye and trailed down your cheek; his hand immediately came up so he could thumb it away.

"Mindy told me you were sick," he muttered, taking advantage of the proximity to be a little gentler, a little smaller than he was used to being, so you could put your trust in him again. "What happened?"

"Uhm..." you croaked. "I'm not sick. I'm just taking a few sick days. Bereavement days...actually. Little leave of absence. Just through the end of the weekend."

The word was distantly familiar to him; the memories, though, would stay with him forever. Rick picking him up from school, a phone call from Wayne to his boss. An appointment for all three of them to get suits rented...and then some flowers ordered. Shiny shoes that he could see his teary-eyed reflection in.

He swallowed painfully and watched you do the same as you prepared your confession.

"My...uh...my grandpa died last night."

And before he knew it, it was 12 hours later. 12 hours that he spent relatively quietly.

He let you fill the silence; let you talk and cry, only opening his mouth to comfort you when the realization hit again and it got to be too much.

He helped you pack your bag for the trip back home. That was when your grief finally turned into anger.

Towards your family. Towards yourself.

"I feel like it's my fault," you sighed as you showed him how to find a pair of tights that didn’t have runs in them, whatever that meant. "I was the only one who took care of him. Doctor's appointments, took him on walks, made sure he didn't have the food he wasn't supposed to. The works. And I left. It's my fault he's gone. At least, that's the way Michael made it sound on the phone."

Eddie almost didn't catch the last part, said under your breath as you stuffed a shiny pair of shoes into your duffel bag, but he did. He wasn't going to let you do this to yourself; how many times over the years had he questioned how he might have been able to keep his mom from dying? On those days where he needed her most. He knew he couldn't stop you from those thoughts, at least not now but he could do his best to fight them away until you could do it yourself.

"Michael," he spoke up, startling you with the realization that he heard. "That's your brother right?"

"Older brother," you nodded slowly.

"Sounds like a shithead."

"Yeah," you let out the briefest laugh and then fiddled with the zipper tab. "He kind of is."

You complained about perfect Michael and his perfect life until your stomach rumbled and Eddie offered to order dinner for the two of you. When you mentioned that you hadn't eaten all day, he made sure you had more than your fill of beef lo mein and garlic string beans as Monty Hall played on the television.

At a certain point, your takeout carton made it to the coffee table and you started to doze off as your head rested on his shoulder. It was a relief, but only for a second, because you startled back awake and dumped all the clothes out of your bag again.

"I didn't pack the right dress," you muttered. "Aunt Amelia's gonna say something about it. I just know."

So Eddie stayed up with you all night as you packed and unpacked and packed again, uncaring that he had school in the morning or Hellfire that night. Fuck it all. It didn’t matter. None of the doubts and self-hatred and worry that had plagued him all week since Sunday night even crossed his mind. All that he worried about was making sure you weren't alone.

When dawn came, and you tiredly tried to wave him out of your apartment so that he could get ready for class and you could hit the road, he pulled you into his arms and just...held you.

He closed his eyes and rocked you back and forth as you hummed softly and gripped the back of his t-shirt tightly beneath his jacket.

He thought of all the things that he could say in that moment...

Drive safe, call me tonight so I know you got there, I'm sorry, take it easy on yourself, it's not your fault.

...but none of them were able to fall from his lips.

"Welp," you sighed. "This is it."

But neither of you moved.

"Thank you for coming over Eddie. I really really appreciate it."

Still nothing. No forward momentum, no motivation to move on to the rest of the day without one another, no reassuring words from him to give you the strength you needed to go forth alone, and no will for him to leave you.

You'd both be ready when you were ready, it seemed.

But as you finally pulled away from him, and he thought about you getting in your car and driving for what might be one of the toughest weekends of your life, all he managed to say...

"Why don't I come with you? I know it's not a road trip or fun or anything. I know I have school and work but...fuck it. We can stop at the trailer, I'll leave a note for Wayne and grab the nicest clothes I own, and...I'll come with you. I just...I don't want you doing this all alone."

...resulted in him sitting in the passenger's seat of your car for 5 hours as you zoomed down the highway away from his whole life in Indiana to the great unknown of Chicago.

---

You talked for a majority of the drive.

Eddie already knew some things about your family—strict parents, pesky brothers, too many cousins than he could keep track of—but you seemed to want to prepare him because he would effectively meet all of them.

"Big Catholic family and a funeral," you glanced at him from the corner of your eye and shot a tense smile. “It's a lot. You sure you still want to come?”

You’d done that throughout the drive too, asked him if he was sure he wanted to come with you. He’d joked several times already that you’d have to leave him on the side of the road, which you wouldn’t, or turn back altogether if he chickened out.

Besides, he already called Jeff when you stopped at his place to let him grab some clothes, and canceled Hellfire; he wouldn’t chicken out for anything. He needed to be here for you.

If he was being honest, yes he was nervous. He hadn’t met any girlfriends' families before or anything, and this whole situation wasn’t exactly the way he’d ever imagined meeting yours. As you crossed the state border into Illinois, though, your breath got shallow and your hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, and Eddie wondered if you were looking for a way out because you never wanted the two parts of your life—family and friends—to clash.

“I don’t, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I know I’m not someone that…families approve of or anything, if that's why you keep asking if I want to be here.”

"It's not that--" you tried to interject.

"And I know we're not dating or anything but..." he trailed off awkwardly and then cleared his throat.

Well that was one way of sticking his foot in his mouth.

Your head was half turned towards him, jaw dropped, eyes darting back and forth from the road to him.

The thought of opening the car door and bailing as you zoomed down the highway briefly crossed his mind because he fucked up. Why would he say something like that? It was because he was a big dingus, actually, the biggest.

"Uh, Eddie listen--"

"No," he interrupted you again. "Sweetheart I'm sorry, that's...that wasn't fair of me. I didn't mean...I just..."

"No it's ok, we should ta--"

"I just thought that...I know I pretty much intruded on this trip, but I wanted to be here for you. But if me being here is gonna cause more problems for you...I mean damn, I don't mind taking a Greyhound back to Hawkins even. But more than anything, I want to make sure you're alright."

He nervously picked at the loose threads on the holes at his knees and was surprised when you took a hand off the steering wheel and grabbed his.

"Do you know," you whispered, voice barely audible. "I think I would have turned back by now if I tried to come alone. Michael on the phone...god I don't know how my dad's gonna be...or my aunt. I don't want to have to deal with all of that. But I know I need to be there...it's for my Papa, I have to be there.

"It's hard to go home when you've moved someplace else. When you've started to find home somewhere else. And I wasn't gonna say anything. I wasn't gonna ask you--it's too much to ask--but I secretly kind of hoped that you would ask to come along. And I'll never be able to really thank you, Eddie, for wanting to be here. For me.

"But thank you," you shot him a smile and squeezed his hand tightly.

He swallowed thickly and squeezed right back.

"I'll be here for as long as you need me to be, sweetheart. As long as you want me to be."

---

The weekend was a whirlwind, and honestly, Eddie knew he wasn't going to be able to make heads or tails of it until the two of you got home on Sunday night.

The first surprise, shortly after your heartfelt moment in the car, was the fact that you didn't actually live in Chicago. You'd been approaching the city on I-90, you even pointed out the Sears Tower to him. Then you got on an exit and drove for another 20 minutes down North Avenue.

"I feel like I've been lied to," he sniffed petulantly.

"I told you I'm from the suburbs before," you chuckled at his antics. "And it might as well be Chicago, it's all Cook County."

"We're not even driving North, how is this North Avenue?"

"We don't have time for a history lesson, we'll be there soon."

Still, it was exciting. Not exactly what he pictured in his head from watching shows on TV or seeing news reels about the city, but nonetheless different from what he was used to in Hawkins and that was the part he liked.

At a certain point, you reached a stretch of road that featured certain destinations that would live in Eddie's imagination until he could ask you about them--KiddieLand Amusement Park, Riviera Lanes, and Winston Plaza--and Eddie noticed your hands started to shake.

"You ok? There's plenty of places to pull over," he suggested. "I can drive the rest of the way."

"No it's ok," you said and swung a left-hand turn onto a residential street with houses that sort-of all looked the same, sort-of all looked different. "We're here."

You parked on the street in front of a house that you noted belonged to your aunt, and then led him down a narrow sidewalk to the backyard of the neighboring house, where a kid gangly enough to rival Mike Wheeler sat in a plastic lawn chair with headphones on, arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes closed.

"Jimmy," you called to him and then kicked his foot. "Jimmy. James Joseph, wake up."

"I'm awake," he startled, knocked the headphones down so they sat around his neck, and stood up. Even with one hand rubbing his eye, your brother's resemblance to you was obvious, and a sense of dread washed over Eddie.

And so it began...meeting your family.

Jimmy was probably the best introduction of them all--there was an ease between the two of you, even with the snide jabs and banter back and forth--and that extended to Eddie. Especially when Jimmy realized that he and Eddie were wearing the same shirt.

"Don't let him fool you, he's a dweeb," you announced when Jimmy got excited over a shared love for Judas Priest, and Eddie hoped you meant your brother, but he couldn't be too sure you weren't referring to him.

There was a brief respite as you both rested for a minute, changed clothes, and ate a plate of some sort of casserole from the packed shelves of the avocado fridge in your grandpa's kitchen. Then it was an onslaught, a domino effect of faces and names that gradually got more important as you got back into the car to head towards the funeral home.

A sea of strange faces that smiled and hugged you and then looked over at Eddie in question, but not in an unwelcome way, and he was glad he'd pilfered a black scrunchie from your bag to tie his hair back respectfully.

You introduced him to this old coworker of your Papa and that great-aunt from Minneapolis and this cousin. He even got to meet your old store manager--a stern, short, blonde woman with victory rolls and shimmering black eyeshadow--who'd come to pay her respects after she saw your Papa's obituary in the newspaper; she honestly scared Eddie a little, but she made him laugh, which meant she was good in his book.

It was all reminiscent of meeting people after his mom died once upon a time, the only other funeral he'd ever been to. When people called and came out of the woodwork in an overwhelming number to offer their condolences. He had been young and sad then, but he was older, wiser, and tougher now. He shook hands and said "nice to meet you" and when people questioned whether he was a boyfriend, Eddie insisted he was just a friend who wanted to be here for you.

It wasn't a lie; still he got a skeptical gaze from at least two elderly women who tutted once they were out of earshot.

Eventually, you got to the front of the room, to the row of chairs that held your immediate family, and after a few tearful hugs, Eddie finally met your parents, your aunt and uncle, and your older brother.

He was surprised to hear "I've heard a lot about you" come from your mother's mouth, but was not surprised to hear the "no funny business under my roof" from your father after a clap on the shoulder. Your uncle said nothing after a short “hello”, just let your aunt do all the talking, and all she could talk about was your appearance.

"What are you doing, honey? What is this you're wearing? For Papa's wake? I hope you plan to wear something a little more modest for my father's funeral tomorrow. And your friend? A leather jacket? A little casual don't you think? What's that dear? Yes, nice to meet you too Edward. Thank you for coming."

Your brother Michael, though...Michael was a douchebag to put it in polite terms, and Eddie could tell that, unlike with Jimmy, the relationship between you was tense.

"You're late" he sniffed judgmentally instead of a greeting.

"We hit traffic and needed to change," you snarked right back.

"So you stopped off at home? Where's Jim? Why couldn't you get him here?"

"You know how he is at these things, he'll show up before they close up for the night. You remember how he was when Nana died. And now he's Mr. Tough Guy. He doesn't like to cry."

Back and forth the two of you went, Michael's accusations and your tense responses. Eddie could feel himself get more and more irritated the harsher it got, the angrier he felt you become. If it was anything other than a funeral--a wake, what was the difference--he would have started in on your brother several minutes ago to protect you.

And he was still tempted to.

But it was like a switch was flipped as someone else approached, and he watched as you changed right before his very eyes. As all the irritation and vulnerabilities left you, and in their place...was the Store Manager version of you he knew and sort of despised. Cold and stiff and everything he knew you weren't by the grace of becoming your friend.

Regardless, it was startling to see.

At the end of the night as Eddie settled into the second twin bed in what used to be Michael and Jimmy's shared room, Eddie realized that your customer service persona had been present for most of the evening, and had only slipped in the presence of those few family members that could see right past it.

Could they see past it? Or was it that you simply couldn't hide behind it with them?

For the whole time he'd known you, Eddie had often wondered what had driven you to Indiana. The job, sure, but...you'd left everything you'd known behind. And hell, for all the times that he wanted to get the hell out of Hawkins, he knew he couldn't leave Wayne or Rick for very long. In his heart he knew the day he finally left, he'd need to be back quite often to see them.

Now, though...when it came to you, he started to understand.

---

The next day, the day of the funeral, you couldn't stop shaking.

Eddie had been nervously second guessing the black jeans--the only non-ripped pair he owned--and Wayne's borrowed dress shirt when he saw you digging through your bag, trembling. It seemed like you were trying to hide it, kept your body moving and grabbing for something, but he noticed immediately,

He snatched the car keys out of your hands before you could get a solid grasp on them when it was time to go.

"It's alright," he reassured you. "Just tell me where I'm going and I'll get us there."

He thought it would be back to the funeral home, but instead you gave him directions to the church. A big old building with stained glass windows and a large statue of the Virgin Mary out in the front.

He could hear the organ music of the hymns emanating from within, and on the hour, the bells from the tower beside the chapel became deafening. For all the Catholic school girl jokes he made at your expense, he didn't realize you were Catholic Catholic.

"You sure I'm not gonna burst into flames if I set foot inside?" he joked to try and ease your nerves and his, but you just shook your head. He watched and suddenly felt helpless, as you began to shake more and worry your bottom lip with your teeth; he was supposed to be here to support you, to reassure you, and instead you looked ready to keel over. "Hey, it'll be ok."

"Yeah," you nodded tensely. "Yeah, let's just go inside."

You didn't make a move though, just rocked onto the toes of your shiny Mary Janes and looked on as tons of people filtered into the church.

Tons of people that, once again, reminded him of the people that had come to pay their respects for his mom. Eddie remembered being there, shaking in his shoes, trying to keep a straight-face, to be strong. To not be a baby because he was 10 years old.

It was just like you said about Jimmy the previous night; big tough guy, didn't want to cr--

Oh.

Realization hit Eddie. The culmination of all the other realizations that had been mounting over the past what? 48 hours? Maybe the past week? The two of you were more alike than he realized. Eddie had just noticed how you'd put up this strong front since you'd been home; the comfortable, safe Store Manager facade was starting to crack. Hadn't he just told you the story about his mom's funeral? How he'd fallen in love with metal because Rick had realized that he needed to process his grief? That he needed to lash out? To cry?

Here he was, trying to get you to laugh, when instead he should have been doing the opposite. But how was he gonna get you to cry? You didn't even cry much at the wake when you'd placed your hand on top of the shiny casket that held your Papa within.

Maybe it just hadn't hit you yet?

Alright, change of plans.

"Your Papa knew a lot of people," Eddie noted, gesturing towards the funeral-goers.

"He did," you agreed, and he watched as your shoulders lost the slightest bit of tension. "He was...I mean you met my cousin last night. The one who wants to run for Mayor."

"Yeah, he's got that yuppie thing about him."

"Well, my Papa could have been Mayor if he wanted," you said with the most conviction he'd ever heard in your voice. "He just didn't want to. Which means he deserved it even more. He was the nicest neighbor, the best friend. He went and played competitive Bocce at the civic center and fundraised for charity and canned his own peaches to give to people."

On and on, you talked about Papa's recipe for this and his idea for that and...

"And the way he fucking chain smoked god damn it Eddie," you hit his arm as he pulled his cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans.

Eddie thought that, at the very least, an emotional story would be the thing that would set you over the edge. Instead it was the pack of Marlboro Reds that he'd picked up when you had stopped for gas about halfway through the drive.

You hit his arm a few times, as you often did when you tried to playfully admonish him for this or that, then your face crumpled. Your shaking ceased as you collapsed against him and buried your face against his shoulder once again, just like you had when he first arrived at your apartment on Thursday night.

He dropped the cigarettes and folded his arms around you, pulled you into the safety of your friendship when it seemed like there wasn't anything safe out there for you right now; when you'd just lost one of the safe places you had in the world.

He whispered sweet words--comforts and reassurances--and he made you laugh once by threatening to punch your brother if he tried to make a scene.

"I'll do it," he goaded you. "I don't care if he's in mourning too. He's insufferable. Hate that guy. Never coming back to Chicago ever if he's still in town. You hear that? I might have to leave right now."

"No," you tugged him closer to you, and he reveled in the feeling. "You're staying right here. You promised."

"I did," he agreed.

The tense hold you had on him got looser and you hiccuped the last few tears you had.

A few yards away, a hearse pulled up to the curb in front of the church, and your brothers and several of your cousins went to start hauling the casket inside.

"You ready to go in?" Eddie asked. "You don't have to...but..."

"No," you shook your head and pulled back from him. "I'm ok. I'm ready."

"Good."

He waited for you to make the first move once again, but before you did, you took his hand in yours and squeezed.

"He would have been...so happy to have met you, Eddie," you looked at him earnestly. "I told him all about you. I think it hurts a little more...knowing that he didn't get the chance."

He squeezed your hand right back and smiled.

"I'm sad I didn't get the chance either. Guess I'm gonna have to work extra hard not to go to Hell so I can shake his hand in Heaven."

You snorted and pushed him away with a soft jackass then pulled him into the church with you saying he would have made the same joke.

---

The next morning, you and Eddie made a stealthy getaway.

Your father had tried to get you both to go to church with them again and you politely declined.

"We need to get on the road so we don't get back too late. I have to open tomorrow," you made the excuse.

Honestly Eddie was grateful; all the sitting and standing and kneeling...he hadn't gotten that much exercise since gym class Freshman year.

But as you soared back down North Avenue, you made a detour.

"I know this wasn't supposed to be a fun trip," you explained. "If you're up for it, we can make the drive back whenever...maybe during spring break or something? The least I can do before we head back to Hawkins, to thank you for coming, is give you a taste of good Chicago food. Especially after casseroles and funeral home sandwiches all weekend.

"It is Sunday, after all."

And that's how Eddie found himself having his first authentic Chicago style hot dog. Sitting on a picnic bench outside, under a red and yellow striped umbrella, the ambient sounds of cars zooming and your banter back and forth the perfect backdrop.

"No ketchup, are you kidding me right now Eddie?" you swatted his hand.

"Why do they have ketchup if they don't want it on the hot dog," he argued.

"It's for the fries and the fries only. You need to have the whole experience. A hot dog with everything, and ketchup on the fries only."

He watched as you unwrapped your hotdog and began picking through the toppings. Hypocrite.

"Wait, I thought you said you needed to have the whole experience, why are you taking the peppers off."

"I don't like the peppers."

"Are you kidding me right now?" Eddie scoffed. "Gonna have to take your Chicago Card away. Oh wait, I'm sorry. Suburb card."

"Oh my god, just eat. Before I leave you here."

He took his first bite and his tastebuds sang, as you munched on a French fry with a cheeky smile.

And Eddie was happy. Happy to be here with you. Sundays were his favorite days, hands down, and he would do everything in his power to keep them that way.

It might not have been the happiest weekend, there might still be some unanswered questions between the two of you. But you were here with him and you were still friends, and after everything that had happened, that's all Eddie could ask for.

Next Part: Closing Time

[runninriot]

no reason to hide

written for @steddie-week day 1 | prompt: secret relationship

rated: t | wc: 4.5k | tags: Max POV, Max & Eddie friendship, Max & Steve Friendship, Steve and Eddie are keeping secrets, coming out, post Vecna, everybody lives | complete fic on ao3

The first time she notices something strange is going on between Eddie and Steve, is when Max wakes up in the middle of the night from one of those ghastly dreams that have been haunting her since the whole Vecna fiasco went down.

She does what she always does when she can’t fall back asleep - goes to sit on the steps outside of her home to listen to the familiar sounds of the trailer park, looking at the sky, the stars and the moon, reminding herself that she’s back in the real world. That the Upside Down and all its monsters are a memory of the past.

It’s been almost a year and things have finally gone back to how they were. Well, mostly.

Sure, those nights where the monsters come crawling back into her subconscious are draining sometimes, but after everything that happened to her, nightmares, a walking stick, and glasses are a small price to pay. She could’ve paid a much higher one, could’ve lost it all. She’s fine. And at least the nightmares are a burden they all share.

Her friends have them too, those restless nights. And even if that doesn’t make it better, the fact that they are in this together makes it easier, at least.

Max knows she can always count on them – her now-again-boyfriend Lucas and the stupid but lovable dorks Dustin and Mike. Even El and Will, who went back to California, are always just one phone call away.

She has Steve, who – while Nancy and Robin went off to college – didn’t leave.

He’s still here, still taking care of them in his annoyingly loving way, even though they don’t need him to be their protector anymore, technically.

She’d never say it out loud, would rather eat her own tongue than to admit it, but to know that he’s part of her life is kind of... comforting. Because he’s graduated from babysitter to friend long ago, has proven time and again that he’s a good guy with a big heart. Max likes him a lot, can understand why Dustin was always so drawn to him.

And then, there’s Eddie.

Before being caught in a war against evil and nearly walking into the light at the end of the tunnel together, she never really cared much for him at all. (And no, she did not have a very stupid, very tiny crush on him when she learned about him playing guitar in this awesome band. Anyone who suggests otherwise can talk it out with her fist, okay?!)

She had often wondered how much truth was behind all the rumours, the Satanic Freak allegations. Because while he obviously liked to cause trouble every now and then, he always seemed... nice. A little boisterous, maybe, but never violent or evil.

And then she got to know him when they were trying to prove his innocence while being caught in their final battle against evil, and realised how much they had in common.

How Eddie, like her, wears a mask to protect his vulnerable pieces inside. Carrying the burden of a broken home and too much pent-up anger on his shoulders.

Max sees a version of herself in Eddie, and seeing how far he’s come – even if he himself doesn’t think he has – is encouraging, in a way.

She never told anyone, but out of everyone, Eddie might have played the biggest part in her recovery.

When she opened her eyes for the first time after being in a coma, the first blurry face she saw wasn’t Lucas or Steve or even her own mother.

No. It was Eddie.

Half his body in bandages, leaning heavy on his crutches holding him upright where he was standing beside her hospital bed, smiling down at her, which looked painful because of the stitches on his left cheek, but it was warm and friendly and honest.

And in that moment, when the memories came back and the world came crushing down, Max was glad it was him that watched her fall apart. Because with Eddie, she didn’t feel the need to pretend that she was fine. He let her cry and wince in pain without commenting on it, just took her hand – no words of pity, no promises of false hopes, just a tight squeeze of her hand in silent support.

Their friendship evolved from there, got even stronger when they were both fighting their way through physical therapy, from frustrating setbacks to miraculous accomplishments.

He’s annoying sometimes, like a brother, but he’s the kind of friend that you love to fight with because you know they’ll never hold a grudge; Eddie's friendship is unconditional and Max cherishes that more than she'd ever tell him.

Eddie, like her, finds it hard to sleep sometimes. So, more times than not, when she goes to sit on the steps in the middle of the night, she finds him outside his own trailer – smoking in silence or listening to music with his headphones on.

They don’t usually talk, just share a few moments together in peace until their minds have calmed enough for them to get ready to conquer another day.

This is why Max doesn’t startle when she hears the familiar squeak of the Munson’s trailer door. Only when a car door gets slammed close, does she look up.

Weirdly enough, it isn’t Eddie who’s going for a ride. It isn’t his van that slowly turns and rolls out of the driveway.

It’s Steve’s car; there’s no doubt about it. She knows that car better than Steve likes to be reminded of.

    What the hell is he doing at Eddie’s place at 2 in the morning?, Max wonders, worries that maybe something is wrong.

But moments later, the trailer door opens again and Eddie steps out, dressed in his pajama pants, lighting a cigarette like he always does. He seems calm, happy. Not at all like something bad has happened.

Until he notices her and his eyes widen in shock, mouth hanging open with the cigarette stuck to his bottom lip.

   “Max! How- how long have you been out here?”

She doesn’t exactly know why she doesn’t tell the truth but something about the way Eddie looks at her tells Max, he might not want her to know about his nightly visitor.

   “Just came out like, maybe a second before you did,” she lies, watching his shoulders drop as the tension in his body eases.

   “Oh, uh, okay. Nightmare?”

   “Yeah.”

   “You wanna talk?”

   “Nah, just needed some fresh air. You?”

   “I- I’m good. Just, uh, just couldn’t sleep.”

They sit there for a while, both awkwardly looking anywhere but at each other, before Max can’t take it anymore, says her goodnight and goes back inside.

There is probably a good explanation for it all. Maybe Steve couldn’t sleep, too. Maybe he went to Eddie for some weed? (Don’t act so surprised. She might just be a teen but she’s not stupid, okay?)

Whatever it is, Max will never know because going by the way Eddie reacted when he saw her, she’s sure he doesn’t want to be questioned about it.

It’s fine. It’s none of her business anyway.

And Max forgets about it entirely until something strange happens again a few weeks later...

keep reading

[santsukii]

‧͙*̩̩͙❆ anything you wanna be

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hi first bsd fic,, just soukoku pining for you cuz friends to lovers <3

ˋ°•*⁀➷ osamu dazai, nakahara chuuya (separate) x gn! reader

°˖➴ listening to: marvelous - wallows

₊˚ alcohol, ambiguous relationship, friends to lovers, more fluff than should be allowed tbh

all you had to do was say you wanted him and he’d be yours in a heartbeat, but it would never be that easy. it would be in a perfect world, but realistically, the words would just get caught in your throat every time you tried to force them out. dazai wasn’t stupid, he knew of your feelings for him even before you did. to say the man was confusing would be a gross understatement, he’s impossible to read. it’s frustrating really, the fact that nights like this one are the only times he exposes even a sliver of his true feelings.

stumbling and tripping in the cool sand on the beach, his hand in yours as he lead you to the water. the sun had long set, leaving an inky black sky in its wake and stars reflected in the calm, salty water. the sand was easy to trip on, showcased almost too perfectly when you fell into dazai. he flipped around instantly to catch you, splashing into the shallow waves with you in his arms.

you doubted he’d ever look this beautiful, sand in his hair and sticking to his cheek, a genuine smile on his face as he held you in the cool water, not caring if either of your clothes got wet in the process. worst case scenario, he’d lend you one of his t-shirts to wear, then he gets the pleasure of seeing you in his clothes! the kiss shared under the moonlight with the softest and smallest of waves crashing over your bodies would be one you’d remember forever, even if he was just a friend. he knew you loved him and he loved you, but it wasn’t really official.

your best friend wasn’t a very affectionate person at heart, at least not until relatively recently. his cold exterior lent to a much more intimidating image of him, the reality just being a five-foot-two man with too much anger in his short body. it took him a long time to open up to you, so many nights spent drunk and panicking over a slip of the tongue that you likely wouldn’t remember come morning. using his gravity manipulation to mess with you was part of day to day life, making you float just above the ground to watch you flail helplessly trying to regain your balance.

he’s your best friend, nothing more. why, then, did you find your heart beating so fast whenever he was around? was it the way he always found a way to get you into trouble, subsequently getting the adrenaline pumping through your veins, or did you have feelings for him?

surely that wouldn’t all come to a head when he was standing on the ceiling in front of you while you remained on the ground, teasing him for using his ability to make himself seem taller. surely. it was a spur of the moment thing, he swore to himself up and down to keep from acknowledging his growing feelings for you. not like he could deny much when his lips met yours, still upside down. it was strange, but not an unwelcome first kiss.

© santsukii on tumblr. translation and reposting without permission is prohibited. 

[peppermintquartz]

Love your writing! Thank you for all you provide for the bucktommy fandom! For the prompts: spiderman kisses

You're welcome! My preferred method to engage with fandom is to write fics and I'm glad people are appreciating them ❤️

Ooh that is a hard one. I'm gonna try.

*

"How long ago was this movie?" Evan asks, settling in next to Tommy.

"It's from 2002," says Tommy.

"Wow, that's, like, vintage."

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that."

Tommy figures the first Spider-Man movie (the best of the live-action adaptations, in his biased opinion) is a good blend of action and drama and romance to entertain Evan and himself. He found James Franco hot, back in the day, and this movie brought back his teen crush feelings.

Evan sniffles when Uncle Ben dies, and Tommy cuddles him close. But the rest of the movie makes up for it, particularly when Peter Parker saves Mary Jane in the pouring rain.

"Oh wow, Kirsten Dunst is so hot," Evan muses. They've shifted positions so that Tommy is leaning against the arm of his couch and Evan is lying on him, like a spoiled cat.

Tommy stifles a laugh by kissing the top of his boyfriend's head. "Almost all my friends thought so. Some of them were especially focused on the fact she wasn't wearing a bra in this scene. Then again, we were all horny teenagers, so I guess that's to be expected."

"Yeah, it is hard to miss that," Evan comments. Then he sighs. "It's such a romantic kiss though."

"It's an original idea too, not copied from the comics," Tommy says, because sometimes he knows things. "Got parodied to hell and back after that, but that's how you know it's iconic."

Pausing the movie, Evan shifts and turns around, nearly elbowing Tommy in the ribs. "You know, I wanna try that."

Tommy raises an eyebrow. "An upside-down kiss? You do know neither of us are Spider-Man, right?"

Evan gets to his feet and drags Tommy out of the couch. "I have an idea. Come on come on come on come on, I wanna try something."

Putting up a token display of resistance, Tommy lets Evan lead him into the garage. Evan stares at the pull-up bar, his eyes narrowing, and then he grabs it, swings one long leg up and then the other, and hangs on to it with hands and knees.

Tommy is not amused but worried. "Baby, please get down," he says as he hurries in place to keep his arms under his boyfriend, ready to break his fall.

"Kiss me first," Evan demands. His face is already turning red from being upside down.

Tommy quickly pecks him on the mouth. "There are safer ways to have upside-down kisses, babe. I don't want you breaking your neck.

"That's not how the kiss went."

"Evan Buckley, I'm not playing. Get off the bar carefully." Tommy resorts to using his Serious Tone, which he hates to use on his boyfriend, but sometimes Evan does rush into things a little too impulsively and Tommy has to rein him in.

Pouting, Evan gets off the contraption, and Tommy pulls him into a hug and kisses the pout away. Evan keeps his eyes downcast. "Hey. That was just too unsafe. We can do the kiss lying down, okay?"

Evan peers through his lashes. "I want a proper Spider-Man kiss."

Tommy huffs through his nose and pulls Evan to the Muay Thai mat. They lie down, head to head but their feet angled in opposite directions. Tommy cups Evan's cheek. It's a different feeling, the way his hands are angled, and he leans in to kiss Evan.

It is very different. The top of his tongue slides over the top of Evan's tongue; his nose is bumping against Evan's stubbled chin. He changes the angle of his mouth and tries again.

After a moment, they both pull away. Evan is giggling. "I don't think that was as hot as the movie's version," he admits. Rubbing the tip of his nose, he adds, "I love your cleft, but I think I prefer if my nose isn't rubbed raw on it."

Tommy laughs and gets up, before he reaches for Evan. "Yeah, I think I'll stick to the regular way. Besides, I like seeing your eyes after we kiss."

"Really? Why?"

Tommy shrugs. He's not that good with words. "I just like it, that's all." He kisses his boyfriend again, right way round this time, and when he pulls away, he watches Evan blink, his wide blue eyes a little dazed and his lips curving into a smile. "Yeah, exactly like that. I like seeing that."

Evan tucks an arm around Tommy's waist. "You're so sweet." Biting his lower lip, he asks, "So, shall we finish the movie and make out on the couch like horny teenagers afterwards?"

"Sounds like a plan."

[twst-drabbles]

Floyd and Grim 1

Summary: One of Floyd’s favorite words beyond your name was ‘Seal.’ Whenever you hear it, it’s not because he’s seeing the actual animal, it’s because he saw Grim and is chasing him around the yard.

(Floyd being a little shit is always fun.)

“Seal!” A high squeaky voice almost pierced your ear as you fumbled with your newspaper, “Seal seal seal! Oomph… Seal!”

A wet flop, almost like a small body fell into mud before the yelling started up. Uh-oh.

You place your paper down on the table and got up. Seems you were sitting for too long because some of the bones in your spine popped. You ignored the slight pain. There are more important things to focus on. “Alright, what’s Floyd up to now?”

Seal was... an odd choice of a word for that cat. Why seal? Because he's gray and round? Probably. You don't really know any other cat that his specific shade of gray. Or has fire on the ears.

The stray cat that’s comes around, Grim you named him, has been hanging out more often in the garden. Probably because he’s figured out the little pet door you installed in the back. You’re pretty sure he comes inside to sleep in the corner, since there’s some scorch on the kitchen tiles and little bits of gray fur.

You haven’t put anything in his corner yet, not out of apathy but out of knowing the sensibilities of cats. The minute you put in something new in their territory, they either never approach again or they pee all over it. You don’t like either choices, so you just don’t.

You open the door and were not shocked by what you saw.

“Floyd!” You yelled out, knowing it was vain now that Floyd was up and chasing the yowling Grim around the yard. “Oh boy…”

From one side of the yard to the other, Floyd chased after the flame-eared cat with no regard for his distress. His ears flared brightly while sharp teeth and too-strong jaws opened wide and clipped just an inch away from Grim’s tail. No matter how fast Grim ran, Floyd was just an inch away from chomping on him.

In fact, Floyd was keeping up so well that Grim basically has his butt scooting against the floor. A weird little crab run, almost. A furry ball.

Floyd was clearly dinged up with bumps, bruises and cuts. Completely slathered in mud from the neck down but he didn’t care. Not when he’s running on the high of the chase.

How the cat hasn’t started a wild fire in your backyard is beyond you. Well, probably can’t on the account of what happened last time he did that. You can tell that thistle-like collar was not comfortable.

“Alright!” You stepped in just as they were in front of you and captured them both, Floyd by the tail and Grim by the scruff, “Stop.”

Floyd, upside down, swung himself back and forth violently, swiping his little claws right at Grim to try and grab him. “Seal! Seal seal!”

Grim practically retracted further into your hand, hissing. Seems he fears the little eel more than he hated you. Huh.

You walked to the tallest boulder and plopped Grim on top of it. And, of course, the minute you let go, the cat showed you his attitude by sniffing the air and raising his nose high in the air, as if none of you were worth his time.

You ignored him with a turn of your back. “So, Floyd.”

Grim, behind you, started a meow but choked on his saliva.

Floyd went limp now that his entertainment was gone. He stuck out his tongue at you and gave you a raspberry.

“You’re going in quarantine.” All those scraps and cuts along with the mud is a great recipe for infection.

Floyd whined at you, sticking out his grabby hands, demanding for cuddles like that’ll somehow make you forgive him.

“You don’t get cuddles Floyd. You get a bath.”

He sputtered angrily at you as you walked back into the kitchen.

“Hate you.”

“I know.”

Oh, he learned some new words. Interesting. You can’t help but wonder who taught him those.

[jesterwriting]

Hellooo! I hope ur well !! Would it be a bother to ask for a head cannon/scenario list, with Zoro, Nami Sanji and Law? Reader’s lost in their own head, tries to let it out through battle- ends up with just needing to be in the comfortable, silent presence of their crew-mate/captain afterwards? You can take it however direction you want-!

Feel free to skip if it’s too much to ask!! Sending you lots of love and good wishes, hope you have a good day/night and take care of yourself 🫶💞

pairings: nami x reader, zoro x reader, law x reader, sanji x reader

word count: 1.8k words

contents: fluff, gender neutral reader, slight descriptions of depression, don’t fight when youre distracted or youll make your blorbos grumpy and worried

note: this was cute! my favorite way to spend time with someone is sharing a room with them hehe :3 i hope you enjoy these headcanons!!

Cat Burglar Nami

She is so focused on her own fight, she doesn’t notice how lost in your head you are until it’s over. Once everything dies down, that’s when Nami scolds you. If you’re in a fight, you give it your full attention, you could get seriously injured if you don’t. Nami knocks you upside the head for it, with love, of course. You’ll be nursing a bump for the next few hours, though Nami will grab you an ice pack if you whine about it enough. She rolls her eyes, but loves how you lean into her touch when she places the ice on your aching forehead.

Your thoughts are still racing as you pace up and down the length of the Sunny’s deck. If you looked in the mirror, you would swear your eyes were spirals. You couldn’t be alone, not right now, not unless you wanted to go crazy. To make things worse, your head still hurt. Nami sure packs a punch, though you know it's only because she cares. You’re lonely, and while you know she is busy navigating right now, you want her company.

The first thing Nami says when you find her is, “I’m still mad at you!” However, she doesn’t make you leave when you sit on the floor and lean your back on the wall. You watch her hands move, fingers curled around a pen as she works on a map. She narrows her eyes at you when she catches you staring at her, reminding you, yet again, that she’s still angry about you putting yourself at risk. When you give her a sheepish grin, she sticks her tongue out at you before getting back to work. Neither of you speak. As time passes, she relaxes, shoulders slumping and brows furrowed as she focuses. The comforting sound of pen on paper soothes your ailing mind. By the time you realize the sun is dipping under the horizon, your ice pack has melted and is nothing more than a sack of water.

Nami looks at you out of the corner of her eye. “Do you need another one?” When you say yes, she smirks and calls for Sanji, who comes running equipped with dinner and another ice pack for you. Her food is so good, you have to try it, stealing a sneaky indirect kiss from you when you share her fork. With Nami as company, you feel a lot better than you did before.

Roronoa Zoro

He notices quickly that you’re lost in your own head mid-fight — Zoro trusts you, but he can’t help but keep an eye on you during battle — and barks at you to get it together. You were hoping to take out your frustrations on the enemy, only to have clumsy footwork because you couldn’t stop thinking about how upset you feel. Zoro is blunt, but his harsh words come from a place of care. If you get hurt because you’re not paying attention, it’s no one’s fault but your own. That doesn’t mean he won’t worry if something were to happen. After the fact, he will double down on his reprimands. Everyone on the ship is counting on you, not only yourself.

You’re even more frustrated with yourself because he’s right. It’s hard to keep his words out of your head, mingling with the thoughts from earlier until you feel absolutely exhausted. You need peace. Somewhere quiet to lay and stare up at the sky for a while to remind yourself how little you are in the grand scheme of things. To you, your problems may seem big enough to swallow you whole. To the sea, they are nothing. The moon doesn’t care how inadequate you feel, the stars cannot fathom how tired you are. You climb up into the crows nest to be closer to them, in hopes that their indifference will rub off on you.

That’s where you find Zoro. He’s napping, though he acknowledges your arrival by cracking open an eye and giving you a nod. You take that as a sign that it’s okay to join him. With a deep breath, you settle next to him and stared up at the sky, tracing the constellations with your pupils. Zoro’s breathing eventually evens out, his loud snoring filling the space enough to drown out any of the negative thoughts that threaten to spill over. No words are spoken between the two of you, they don’t need to be. You enjoy having the presence of another body next to you, the heat from his skin so close by warming you from the nighttime chill. With the white noise of Zoro’s breathing, and the warm blanket of his presence soothing your thoughts, you drift to sleep.

The next morning you wake up with your head on his chest. Zoro is awake, acknowledging you with a grunt before he scoots out from over you and leaves the crow nest. Not before sending you a smirk, as if he hadn’t been letting you cuddle him for the better part of an hour, “Sleep well?”

Trafalgar Law

He notices you’re lost in your own head before the fighting even starts. Law is observant, he knows you like the back of his hand, studying your expressions and mannerisms until he can name your emotions before you can even recognize them. It’s likely he recognized your frustrations the night before, choosing to give you time to work them out on your own. If you don’t, he benches you. Don’t try to fight him on it. Unless you’re able to work through what you need to work through in the next ten minutes, you’re sitting this one out. It’s not that Law doesn’t trust you or have faith in your abilities, he knows that the enemies you’re about to fight are strong and you need to have your whole head in the game. He can’t have you getting hurt on his watch because he failed to recognize the signs that you might be suffering under mental duress.

After the battle, the ship is loud and full of celebration, none of which you want to take part in. Maybe you don’t feel like you deserve it because you didn’t do anything, or maybe you were just too exhausted, being alone with your negative thoughts while the fighting went on. Unable to stand it, you left in search of somewhere quiet. Not alone, you weren’t sure if you could handle being alone right now, but with someone to breathe the same air. If there is one place on the Polar Tang that would be quiet, it would be wherever Law is.

Law raises an eyebrow when you slink into his office. He’s in the middle of reading a book, one leg crossed over the other as he lounges in his chair. “What do you need,” He asks. You shrug and say you don’t want to be alone right now. Law can understand that, gesturing quietly to the chair across from his desk before he’s absorbed back in his book. You share the silence well. While you count the ceiling tiles, you listen to the sound of Law turning the pages of his book. Occasionally, Law will clear his throat, but that’s the only sound you get from him. It’s comfortable, companionable even. You could do this more often. Law’s presence is sturdy and makes you feel safe, the thoughts that run rampant in your head quiet in your captain’s presence.

Hours pass like that, until finally, Law closes his book and announces he’s going to bed. That’s your cue to leave. Before you’re out of your seat, Law asks if you feel any better, smirking a little to himself when you confirm you are. He enjoys sharing a space with you, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud. You’re welcome back in his office anytime.

Black Leg Sanji

He is always watching you during a battle, just out of the corner of his eye. Sanji is naturally protective, especially of those he loves. Asking him not to worry about you during a fight is like asking a dog not to bark. Due to this, he notices how lost in your head you are almost the second the fighting starts. He takes care to watch your back, driving back the worst of the assailants to make up for your worse than average performance. After the fighting dies down, he asks if you’re doing alright and reminds you to take care of yourself in case something happens. He won’t always be there to protect you. Sanji doesn’t know what he’d do if you got seriously injured on his watch. More than likely, he’d blame himself for not protecting you properly.

You don’t have to seek Sanji out. After the fight, he asks if you would like anything to eat, offering to let you spend time with him in the kitchen while he cooks. Whether you’re hungry or not, you at least take Sanji up on his offer to spend time together. You still can’t think straight, the battle being nowhere near satisfying in getting your emotions out. Being alone right now is not high on your list of priorities. The two of you fall into step with each other as you make your way to the kitchen, and already his presence is a balm to your racing thoughts.

Sanji is truly at home in the kitchen. You know that now more than ever as you watch him cook. It’s like a dance, one he knows perfectly, and there’s a certain sense of grace to his every move. At first, Sanji will try to make conversation, though he slips into a comfortable silence when you explain you would rather not talk right now. He understands, offering you a kind smile before he’s back to work at the counter, chopping vegetables and sprinkling spices into the food. The comfort of a home cooked meal is just what you need, especially since Sanji cut the vegetables into the shape of little hearts. So focused on your meal, and Sanji’s beautiful blue eyes, you can’t remember what you were so upset about.

After you finish your meal, Sanji is insistent that you let him know you feel better before you leave. Give him a big smile and watch him flush, starry eyed at your expression. He feels better now that he knows you feel better. Anytime you need, you can come find him and he will spend time in silence with you, happily cooking you a meal.

[sailing-through-hawkins]

✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧

"What if - ooh, what about Patricia?"

Robin rolls her eyes, picking at the grass by her ankles. She's tempted to throw some at Steve but she doesn't really wanna see the blades phase through him right now, even if he'll play up his outrage to distract her.

He's been doing that a lot lately. Trying to distract her from the fact that he's - that -

"Okay, okay, hear me out - Chrissy Cunningham."

"The cheerleader?" Robin wrinkles her nose. "Steve."

"It could happen!" Steve says defensively,  sticking his tongue out when Robin gives him her most 'seriously?' face she can muster. "Don't judge a book by its cover, or whatever."

"You're literally meant to do that, that's what the cover's for!"

"Well then, why do people even say that?!"

"I don't know!"

"Is it always like this with you two?" The grouchiest voice cuts through them and Steve spins around in place, floating up even higher so he can stare down at Eddie.

Robin just snorts. "Pretty much."

"Don't be too jealous, Munson," Steve coos, turning himself upside down with a wide grin. "You'll find your soulmate at some point, probably."

"Oh wow, probably," Eddie grouses, and Robin has to bite back a laugh when Steve, still upside down, floats behind him with a silly face stretching out...the scar on his chin. "I am ever so gracious for your faith, oh Generous King."

"This guy's a riot," Steve laughs, poking a finger through Eddie's shoulder and making him jump in place. "Bobbie, can we keep him?"

She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. "I'll end up being the one taking care of him if we do."

"I'm right fucking here," Eddie glares at the both of them, which is just prime material to get them snickering. "Whatever, did it work or not?"

And with that, the laughs cut off.

Robin remembers.

Steve's dead.

"Hey," The ghost of Steve floats over to her, sitting down beside her on the grass. "It's okay -"

"It didn't -" Robin chokes out, avoiding Eddie's eye, staring down at the dirt that she's plucked bare of green. "It didn't. They couldn't see."

The air is silent.

"Probably for the best," comes a sigh and Robin feels rage boil through her blood.

"What the hell?" She glares up at Eddie, who holds his hand up in surrender.

"Look, I know you're both desperate to get your little 'Party' up to speed but like...I mean, just look at him." Eddie waves to all of Steve's ghost, who looks more and more affronted with every word Eddie says. "Do you really think it's a good idea for actual children who watched him die to see him again in the exact same get-up? With the same wounds?"

Robin pauses but Steve just glares harder. "Oh sorry, I didn't know I was supposed to go shopping at Ghosts-R-Us and pick a whole new outfit! What, you think I want to be stuck in this uniform? In the shorts?"

Eddie's face goes red and Robin distantly thinks 'serves you right' as the echo of "watched him die" cycles through her brain. "Well I - I don't know, you're a fucking ghost, you should have ghostly powers or something!"

"Have you ever met a ghost before?!"

"Have you?"

"Stop," Robin chokes out and she immediately gets the chills as Steve waves a hand through her shoulder. "Just stop."

She can't feel him, because he's gone. He's gone. He's gone -

"I'm right here, Rob," Steve's voice murmurs to her and she sobs. "I'm always with you, promise."

"I'm so sorry," she cries, burying her face in her hands and curling up, grief pulling down at her heart. "I'm so sorry, Steve -"

"Shh, it's okay, birdie," he says and she almost feels the warmth he should have. "It's not your fault, it's okay."

"I thought - I just - if we tell everyone, maybe they'll know what - how to - I'm sorry -"

"Wasn't your fault, Bucks," Eddie says gruffly, sitting down next to her roughly. "Just what happens sometimes. That kinda shit...'s out of our control."

She sniffles, burying her hand deeper into her own skin, hoping it'll suffocate the tears out of her, or maybe make her pass out so she doesn't have to think about all of it for a bit, or scratch away the endless void of pain inside her chest -

"Birdie, hey, look at me."

She doesn't.

"Robin."

She can't.

"Please?"

With another choked out sob, she looks up to see Steve Harrington, smiling at her like he never left. Like she didn't leave him.

"No matter what happened, or what happens," he says softly, nearly see-through fingers trying to brush her hair out of her face. Maybe she should get bangs. "I'm always with you, Robs. Not even until death do us part. Platonic soulmates for the rest of time."

She wails and shoves her face into his shoulder, not even caring if she passes through him. A hand pats her back, probably Eddie's, and she sobs louder because why did he get to see Steve? Why did she force him to know? Why couldn't they just be happy?

"Woah, how the hell -"

Robin blinks.

She's sobbing into Steve's shoulder. He's patting her back.

She quickly moves back and stares, Steve's own surprised face staring back, no bruises or scars or Scoops uniform in sight.

"What -"

And in a snap, his face turns back to battered and the warm red sweater he was wearing just a second ago turns back into the bright blue sailor shirt. His hair loses its fluff and goes back to that sad, wiry, bloodied mop.

He changed.

"So you do have ghost powers!" Eddie says triumphantly, as Steve sputters.

"I guess?!" He looks down at his hands, reaching out to touch Robin's fingers, but all she feels is the cold. "How did - why did it stop?"

With one last sniffle, she cups the air around his fingers and looks up at the both of them, her Steve and their spontaneously adopted Eddie (in retrospect, maybe they are weirdo magnets? Better think about that later). She says, with as much determination as she can muster, "This isn't over. We're getting you back."

[stevebabey]

ok brain whipped up this concept & would NOT leave it alone today so here. have this. this is like ‘started making it. had a breakdown. bon appétit’ in a steddie post for me but alas <3 cw: talks of past sexual coercion

Eddie is mad at Steve.

Which, honestly, might be the worst thing in the entire damn world for all Steve cares. The whole world feels just a little bit off kilter when Eddie’s mad at Steve — because Eddie just loooves the silent treatment.

He’ll usually make a show of it. Pout and stick out his bottom lip, cross his arms, maybe even give a stamp on his big booted feet. Doesn’t say what’s wrong, just glares sulkily. It’s a bit childish, they both know, but Eddie likes to be doted and Steve loves to do the doting — and it hasn’t caused any proper fights yet.

This time, however, he can tell Eddie is more mad than usual, because this time he hadn’t thrown the usual fuss. Instead, he’d just gone quiet. All glowers and glares. Not even a pout, and certainly not a peep.  

And it’s just the worst because the version of Eddie that Steve knows best is a chatterbox. Can’t shut up, won’t shut up. Steve normally loves it.

And alright— maybe Steve deserved it for not picking him up after one of Eddie’s gigs. Especially because Eddie had specifically asked him too as well, considering his own van was in the shop.

But it’s not like Steve could control when his parents decided to waltz back into Hawkins!

They always seemed to run on their own timetable, or on what seemed like an entirely different orbit. Yet, they had no trouble roping Steve back into their routine, stuffing him back into a place, without any regard to his opinion on the matter. Which was exactly what they had done that evening.

But that didn’t really matter, Steve thinks with a sigh, because he knows it’s not really just because he didn’t pick Eddie up. It was because of what Steve said.

Gareth’s mom had swung by and while Eddie had gotten an eyeful of that suspicious look that followed him everywhere since the events of the Upside Down, Eddie had gotten home safely. Majorly annoyed but safe which was what mattered most.

He had then released his said-annoyance onto Steve.

But see, Steve was already tired from the prodding and lecturing of his parents. They’d been awfully disappointed to find he had yet to move on from his job at Family Video and worse, had badmouthed his choice of friends. Had brought up Tommy and the likes, asked pointedly why Steve hadn’t been seen with them in a few months.

Steve had bit his tongue to not spew out the fact he hadn’t been seen with Tommy for years and that was unlikely to change any time soon.

So, yeah, he was wound up. And Eddie was too. A bit too impatient, a bit too cut that he’d been on the receiving end of yet another scathing interaction because Steve had been so careless to forget to pick him up.

He’d said as much, jabbing a finger and dramatically reenacting the tense conversation he’d had to have with Gareth’s mother.

It had led to a spat, which led to an argument. Steve sat on the bed in Eddie’s trailer and toyed with a loose thread as Eddie pacing before him.

“You should’ve been there.”

“I know.” Steve ground out the words, eyes on the floor, feeling too much like he was still back home, still being lectured by his father about his good-for-nothing son. The thread was coming looser in his fingers with all his fiddling.

“You know? Is that all you’re gonna say?” Eddie asked, exasperated, but the moment Steve’s lip part to respond, Eddie had steamrolled on. Gareth’s awkward smile and his mother’s tight bunched up shoulders were still fresh in his memory.

“Great! That’s just fantastic, Steve. You knew and you still didn’t show up!”

Steve’s head shot up, brow furrowed. “That’s not what I meant.”

Like a kettle coming to boil, Steve could feel some bitchy comment lurch up his throat with his growing frustration. It was easy to think of things to say to hurt Eddie, to lash out, to make it so Eddie was the one with his head bowed, voice quiet.

Steve had learned that the hard part in these moments, is biting his tongue. Swallowing back mean comments. He doesn’t want to be vicious. Loathes the idea of falling back on snarky comments to win a fight, least of all with his boyfriend.

But... old habits die hard.

So, when Eddie had got all up in his face, firing himself up, and said, “Oh, pray tell then Steve what was so important that made you fucking forget your boyfriend.”

Steve had snapped.

“Fuck, do you ever stop? You are so much sometimes!”

The words had flown out in a harsh sneer and they hit their mark exactly as intended.

Because Steve knew all about that strange bubble of fear that lives inside Eddie— the part that didn’t care at all what strangers thought of him, but cared so much about those he came to trust. The part that worried that being big and brash all the time would be too much for people. That the reason they originally liked Eddie, would become the same reason they’d eventually dislike him for.

Steve had once told him he couldn’t ever get enough of him— let alone too much. It’s why he’d known where to strike.

Eddie’s expression has flinched, his eyes going from simmering to hurt in a few seconds flat. His fists unclenched at his side and Steve had felt the regret curdling up in his gut, a terrible sour feeling that had him shooting to his feet in an instant.

“Eddie, wait, I—”

“Leave.” Eddie said, voice dangerously low. There wasn’t room to push it. Nothing left to argue.

But still, Steve had wavered, swaying as a tidal wave of shame burned hot up his neck. He wanted to fix it. He needed to fix this.

But Eddie couldn’t look at him, eyes fixed on the ground and despite how much it had pained Steve to go, he knew he couldn’t fix it, not then and there. The door had hit him on the way out.

That had been two whole days ago. The guilt of it makes it feel like it was hours ago, still fresh as ever.

Steve had been diligent in giving Eddie his space to cool off.

The call Steve made the morning after never got picked up, just rang endlessly until the voicemail kicked in. Even though Eddie was always home Wednesdays. It told Steve well enough that Eddie was still well and truly mad.

Which was fair enough. Steve had been an asshole. Let himself fall back on old habits and stab a weak spot he only knew because Eddie trusted him, then twisted the knife as well.

But it’s like he said — silent treatment from the guy who usually can’t keep quiet is discerning to say the least. It itches uncomfortably at Steve who finds himself unusually eager to apologise.

Because, damn, if Steve doesn’t hate apologising.

Apologising means pulling out the stops, means admitting shamefully everything you’d done wrong, means having to prove how sorry you were.

It had been like that living under his father. When he was seven, Tommy had accidentally pitched a baseball through one of the windows. It had smashed right through, completely shattered. Steve had taken the fall.

He’d said sorry, head bowed, even though it had been an accident. And after he’d made Steve repeat his apology til it was a rigid phrase in his mouth, Richard Harrington had said; ‘Well, why don’t you prove how sorry you are, Steven?’

He’d ended up being his father’s personal beer boy for that week. Fetching them ice-cold from the garage at his father’s every call, from the moment he was home from school, to prove the apology was legitimate.

It had worked— after a week of doting, extra effort into keeping his room clean and to keep his father happy, Richard had permitted his son a rare smile and ruffle of his hair. ‘See? I know you were sorry now.’

Steve had learnt quickly in his childhood to go to lengths to avoid trouble with his father. To avoid the tumultuous apologies he’d have to perform, jumping through hoop after hoop for forgiveness.

But even then, Steve couldn’t escape them with friends, and especially not with girlfriends.

Tilly had been like that too. She’d been Steve’s freshman girlfriend, eyeshadow baby blue and lips always glossy. When Steve did things she didn’t like —spent Saturdays with his other friends, was late to dates— she’d pout her glittery lips and bat her eyes. ‘Aren’t you gonna make it up to me?’

Steve had — had pulled out the stops, emptied his pocket change to buy her flowers, went to second base because she really wanted him to, all to prove his apology. Until Tilly was back to her sugary smiles and fluttering hazel eyes.

It had even been like that with Nancy, though not quite to that extent. Forking out his savings to buy the nicest bouquet he could find, prepared to make it up to her, even if he wasn’t quite sure if it was him who was supposed to be apologising. But she’d gone silent treatment on him, so…

So, Steve hates apologising— but even more than that, is how much he hates Eddie’s quiet. So, when his boyfriend calls the Family Video on Friday midday, when he knows Steve’s soloing, and invites him over, Steve prepares himself for the grovelling to come.

The mixtape he’d already made sits in the gearbox of his car, carried around with him since he finished it. Upon hanging up the phone, Steve’s eyes catch on the florist across the street. His mind spins with all his knowledge of Eddie’s favourites — should he get those sour candies Eddie loved so much as well?Would it be too much?

Steve scoffs at the irony of his worries, considering what he was apologising for. Besides, it was never too much. There were never enough things to show he was sorry.

And Eddie couldn’t exactly be bought — not that was what this was. But Steve knew his boyfriend preferred all things in the manner of touch. That Steve’s affection was a far higher currency than anything bought with money.

That’s fine. Steve can do that.

He’s got a whole speech planned, honest. The smudged bullet points scrawled on his palm are testament to that, there to keep him on track and Steve checks them over religiously as he drives over after his shift.

It all goes out the window when Eddie opens the door, because Steve’s heart hiccups, splutters, soars forward in his chest.

Eddie looks just the same, his usual ripped jeans and dark shirt with a band Steve doesn’t know and yet— yet.

Steve is overcome by how much he missed Eddie.

Overcome at how those two days felt like two weeks to him. His mouth opens and the words burst out, “I’m sorry.”

part two.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

The First Corruption pt. 1 ~Lucifer Morningstar (sandman) xFem Eve!reader

Lucifer Morningstar (sandman) tempting Eve… Lucifer uses they/them. Perhaps a second part where there is a happy ending…?

Link to Part 2

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, religious talk, smut, Virgin!reader, fingering, tongue fucking, eating out, corruption kink, praise kink, bondage kink, gagging kink, sex with the devil, etc…

Longer Fic; part 1 of mini series

Enjoy (;

The Creator had done many things over the life times of humanity, but the one thing he really messed up on was you. Or as The Creator liked to call you: Eve.

You despised that name. The second you died, you had changed it. And only The Creator and his followers still dared to call you that. You scoffed at the creation story. You were created for Adam for fucks sake. I mean, how sexist was that?? You couldn’t believe that The Creator wouldn’t suspect you to stray.

Especially when the other option was a tempting, tall, blonde, corrupted goddess… You still remember the day vividly… The day your world turned upside down… The day you picked your own side.

~~~

You were in a separate part of the Eden after fighting with Adam. He didn’t trust you to go off without him. What an asshole. You were determined to prove him wrong, so you and stormed off. You were caring for the nature when you sensed a presence watching you.

You weren’t as blind as Adam and The Creator painted you out to be…

“Whose there?” You asked.

A dark, looming presence revealed themselves from the shadows.

“Only me, my dear…” the tall, white cloaked figure purred.

You gulped.

“You’re…” Your voice chocked out, not being able to finish your sentence.

The stunning presence chuckled, “Yes. I am. But you can call me Lucifer.”

The fact that The Creator’s followers still stick with the stupid snake story was such utter bullshit…

You gulped at their being. Your stomach moved around in a new, heated way… Your throat became dry… Your legs trembled, but not out of fear…

“What are you doing here?” you hesitantly asked.

Lucifer made their way closer to you, slowly pining you against the tree you were admiring.

“Well…” they purred into your ear, “I’ve been watching you for some time… and I could help but notice how… unsatisfied, you are…”

You gulped.

Looking back, Luci had been completely right. You were so innocent and unsatisfied before they came into your life…

“I’d like to propose something to you.”

“What…?” You whispered back, intimidated and flushed at their close presence.

“I believe you haven’t been shown how beautiful you truly are. You haven’t been shown true satisfaction and pleasure. Let me show it to you…” she purred into your ear, slightly nipping at your ear.

You breath fled from you.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You naively responded.

Lucifer chuckled, “I know you don’t. So here’s the proposition; Be with me, leave Adam and come with me. Let me own you instead of The Creator and Adam…”

You gulped at this. You considered the tempting, fallen angels proposal.

“Show me…” You spoke in a hushed tone, “Show me what you mean. What it would mean to be owned by you. And then I’ll decide.”

A devilish smirk plastered across Lucifer’s face.

“Deal.”

Lucifer’s eyes shifted at the sight of you and your innocence, they grew darker with lust.

“Be a good girl and sit yourself against this tree…” they instructed you.

The nickname made your body shiver… This all being new and exciting for you. You did as you were told. Lucifer sat himself in between your legs.

“What are you doing?” you inquired.

Lucifer chuckled at your purity, “I’m going to show you what true satisfaction is, Darling…”

Your heart beat started to race at their words.

“What should I do?”

“Nothing, love… just sit back and relax…” Lucifer reassured you.

Lucifer brought their hands down to your thighs, parting them. You gasped at the sensation. They smirked to find your pussy already soaked.

“Your soaked…” Lucifer remarked out aloud.

“I… I don’t understand…” you panted, starting to feel hot.

Lucifer met your needy, innocent eyes.

“You will…”

Lucifer waved their hand, and a pair of vibes came down from the tree. The vines gently grabbed your wrists, bringing them above your head and holding your wrists tightly in place.

“What…?” You breathlessly and dazed self questioned.

“Do you trust me, love?” Lucifer inquired.

“Yes.” You immediately responded, making Lucifer blush and hum in delight.

“Just one more thing…” Lucifer muttered, gering up to grab something and then kneeling back in front of your spread out legs.

“What’s that for?” You inquisitively asked the tall, fallen angel.

Lucifer held a piece of fruit from the tree you had been nurturing mere minutes ago.

“For your mouth, Darling.” Lucifer explained, as they stuffed your mouth with the supple, sweet fruit, “Wouldn’t want the entire cosmos to know who you belong to, now would we?”

You raised your eyebrow in confusion, and Lucifer couldn’t help but giggle at your innocence.

“You’ll see in just a second, my love…” Lucifer purred, bringing her face down to meet your wet cunt.

Your lower body fluttered at the proximity of the winged blonde. You squirmed against your restraints, the pain obvious but you didn’t seem to mind it…

Then all of a sudden, your felt a spasming, overwhelming, hot wave wash over your body. You cried out, the fruit muffling your moan, and clenched your legs instinctually around the fallen angels head. Lucifer moaned in your pussy at your reaction to just one lick of your cunt, sending even more sparks through your body. You mewled in response, tugging at your restraints.

Lucifer looked up at you, “Want me to stop?”

You shook your head desperately, making the Lightbringer grin a devilish grin. They went back to your throbbing pussy, and continued to lap through your folds at a slow and agonizing pace. They now held your thighs spread wide open with their glorious, black wings, so you didn’t crush their head from all your hip jerking at every contact with your touch starved cunt.

You cried out and begged, the restraints making you dizzy in such a delicious way. The fruit, sitting in your mouth and gagging your every cry of pleasure. It was dripping down your chin at this point from your teeth penetrating it’s skin.

God you looked so good being corrupted…

Lucifer began tongue fucking your aching core, adding a finger to your clit. You arched your back at the new sensation, tears streaming down your face. As much as the fruit was muffling your whimpers, mewls, and screams, Lucifer could still very much hear how much pleasure you were getting from this very non-innocent experience.

Your body began getting hotter and hotter, and you felt a tension start to build in every fiber of your being. You desperately tried to tell the glorious, winged being who was eating your cunt out like a starved man. Lucifer registered that you were close, as your walls were fluttering and tightening around her tongue more and more.

“Let go, Darling… Let go for me… Let it wash over you…” Lucifer encouraged you, as they picked up they pace of their tongue fuckings.

You cried out, the fruit gagging you, making you even more dizzy and tension filled. Suddenly, Lucifer sped up her motions on your clit, eliciting a scream from your gagged mouth.

Your whole body seemed to snap in that moment. Your legs shaked relentlessly… Waves of warmth and ecstasy crashed over your whole body… Your back arched against your restraints as your eyes rolled back… Lucifer greedily ate up your cum as you howled in pleasure.

But they didn’t give you any time to come down from your blinding high… Instead, they replaced her tongue, with their finger running through your folds. You yelped and whimpered at your sensitive folds being stimulated even further. Lucifer brought their cum splattered face up to your level, still swirling their finger in your juices.

“Such a good girl…” they praised you, before plunging their finger into your tight, overstimulated pussy.

You cried out in pleasure at their fingers inside your needy and desperate cunt.

“But I don’t think your quite satisfied…” they wickedly purred into your ear, as they thrusted into you.

You shook your head, desperately wanting more.

“Hmmm… Just like I thought…” Lucifer lustfully mused, “Adam could never properly satisfy you, could he?”

At that, Lucifer added another finger into your needy, fluttering cunt. You shook your head relentlessly at their question, making Lucifer smirk. They picked up their pace, thrusting deeper into your core and curling their fingers inside your pussy. Their lips were by your ear, as you cried out in pleasure by their actions.

Tears streamed down your face as you sloppily bucked your hips up to meet their thrusts. Lucifer let out breathy moans and obscenities into your ear, only spurring you on even more… The fruits juices were running down your breasts at this point. Lucifer hungrily gazed at the sight and lowered themselves to your sticky breasts. You groaned at the sight. They greedily licked and sucked all the juices of the fruit off your chest, around your breasts, and off your nipples.

It was all too much. The restraints… The fruit gag… The nipple play… Their dirty words in your ear… Their fingers squelching in and out of your cunt…

This time the orgasm hit you out of nowhere. You screamed in pleasure as it ravished through your body. Your head jolted back in pleasure, slamming against the tree…Your eyes rolled into seeing stars… You wrists squirmed against the vines… Your thighs fought against their wings… Your pussy squirting and clenched all around Lucifer’s fingers.

Lucifer moaned at the designer of you…They helped you down from your second, massive high, leaving you a panting, breathless mess. They gently removed their wings from your thighs, and their fingers from your dripping, sensitive cunt.

“You did so good, my love…” They purred into your ear, untying your wrists from the vines.

All you could do was whine in response. They took out the smushed fruit gag from your mouth, throwing it aside, and clashing their lips into yours. The kiss was a mixture of you, Lucifer, your cum, and the sweet nectar of the fruit gag. You both moaned into the kiss. Lucifer pulled away first, eliciting a whimper from you, causing Lucifer to chuckle at the sight of you.

“So darling, are you satisfied now?”

You bit your lip and eagerly nodded in response. Lucifer couldn’t help but blush at your response.

“Well… Will you be mine then?” They purred, nipping and marking your neck.

“Yes. I’m yours, forever…” you breathlessly moaned, as Lucifer bit into your neck drawing blood.

“Good girl…” they purred, “And let this eternal marking be a reminder of who you belong to…”

It was your turn to blush now.

But your time was cut off all too short that day…

From a distance you both heard Adam looking for you. You panicked, and for the first time noticed your naked body.

“Hey, it’s alright love.” Lucifer comforted you, “I have to go now, but we’ll be together again one day.”

“When?” You asked with a rushed tone, “When will I see you again??”

“Not for a while unfortunately, darling…” Lucifer confessed, sorrow lacing their tone, “But we’ll be together in the end. I must go now.”

As Lucifer got up to leave, you pulled them into one last kiss. It was full of emotion, care, and love. It was promise that you would see each other again one day.

Then Lucifer left. And Adam had found you, against the tree of knowledge with the forbidden fruits juices all over your chest…

Part 2 of Lucifer reuniting with Eve!reader 😏

[sunsetofdoom]

Tagged by @man--eater, ty ily- I've been working like a madwoman on the Fingersmith AU, it's almost 50k!

“Hang on,” he said impulsively. Without waiting for Stolas to respond, he scaled the stone wall as quickly as he could, tail twitching with anticipation. “What are you doing!” Stolas squawked, rushing forward with his hands outstretched; he clasped them together, and then gripped his own arms, agitated. “Get down from there!” “Just hang on! I gotta see something!” “See what!?” “Whether I can still do this,” Blitzo said, matter-of-fact, and wobbled himself back and forth on the wall to see if he had his balance. The ground on one side was only a couple-foot drop, but down to the path was... well, mega-tall Stolas was actually underfoot. If he fell, he hoped he’d fall to the right side. He rocked back and forth, once, twice, and then pushed off, hard, into a backflip. Stolas gasped, awed and petrified. It was really gratifying. He landed too hard, hooves clicking against the rock, but he started to laugh anyways. He’d done it! His joints hated it, but he could still do it. Spreading his hands out, he swayed back and forth. “Stop that! Get down from there!” “Aw, make me,” Blitzo said, grinning, sticking his tongue out. “I’m just f- messing around.” Proving it, he toppled forward, onto his hands; a handstand was nothing, but even upside-down he could see Stolas with his gloved hands cupped around his beak, petrified. “Blitzo, you’re frightening me, please come down!” “Hm,” Blitzo pretended to consider it, toppling back over until he was right-side up and then standing on one leg. “What’ll you give me?”  Stolas yelped with indignation, stamping his foot like a spoiled child. “Stop it this instant!” He used to be able to do a backflip and a half, landing on his hands; but that was when he was in-practice. Not willing to risk a broken arm- or head- Blitzo just did another handstand, slowly removing one until he was balanced on one hand. “How’s the weather down there, short stack?” That one actually made Stolas laugh, a gulping, unwilling sound that he choked off as soon as he could. “Stop that!” “Stop what?” Blitzo taunted, upside-down. “Stop making me laugh when I’m cross at you!” Blitzo laughed right back, feeling like he was flying. Stolas really was the perfect audience- shocked, terrified, angry, and amused all at once. He came out of the handstand with a careful twist, feeling his arms start to shake. Shit, he was out of breath already. Just to prove he could, he did one more backflip, and landed with a deliberate wobble. “Oh, no!” “Don’t!” When he checked, Stolas was doing a nervous little dance, his big talons clicking against the rocky path. Blitzo grinned at him, and he stopped, flushed with anger. “You did that on purpose!”

Tagging @nyxofdemons, @gloriousmonsters, @cringefailvox, @blitzwhore and @goddessofcoloredpencils!