#cheerleader Sting with his little bitch boy

[are-we-really-doing-this]

Sting got a FEEVAH

[pinkbussycunt]

A powerful stinging sensation jolted all through out Caleb’s body as he proudly submitted to his alpha male boyfriend. That powerful athletic hand spanking the red head’s beautifully large ass was so primitive and erotic, Caleb couldn't help but squeal like a little bitch. He was always curious about being spanked, and now that he felt it for himself, he could say without a shadow of a doubt that he was addicted to it.

The slap wasn’t painful, but the little red head could still feel the tingling sensation on his ample ass cheek. He secretly hoped it would leave a mark. He wanted people to know that he was taken. He wanted men to know that he belonged to Blake and only Blake. The sorority boy always knew that something was there between him and the former directionless fraternity boy, but Caleb needed a man. He needed to know that Blake was ready to become one. The King of Sigma Phi Alpha gave up his old ways and became the man Caleb needed him to be. That touched the beautiful boy on such a deep level. The little auburn haired boy knew it was time to give the legendary quarterback what he had rightfully earn and deserved.

The giant of a man was built like a god; he was given the strength of one too. However, the kisses that trailed down’s Caleb’s beautiful back were so gentle and soft. The boy knew what was coming next, and the looked on his flushed face said he was ready to welcome it. Caleb wasn’t the only one ready, his two beautiful ports of entry were equally as welcoming and inviting. The quarterback had a buffet of pink flesh that was waiting for to be devoured.

“ I’m all yours, Baby.” Caleb said sweetly. That’s when he felt it. Blake was starting to play with the cheerleader’s hole. The man knew how to eat. It was firm and assertive, but gentle all at the same time. Grabbing onto the silk sheets for support, Caleb bit his bottom lip, trying to hold in his moans, but then, Blake went further south and found the port of entrance that he was longing for for the past six months. “ Oh God,” Caleb squealed. The quarterback ate the vaginal folds and opening like a carnal man drive by hunger, and it was incredible, clearly evident by the sounds of Caleb’s sensuous moans and soft effeminine squeals.

The athlete really knew how to eat, and he also knew how to kiss. Being lifted off his elbows and knees, Caleb found himself locked in a powerful kiss with his boyfriend. This particular one was passionate and affectionate. Lifting his arm up, Caleb took a hold of Blake's head, enjoying their kiss while playing with those black curls. As they embraced, the auburn haired boy could feel the athlete’s manhood pulsating between his legs. The lips of his pussy coat the giant’s shaft with it’s own juices. They were ready to become one. Caleb loved when Blake talked like that. So primitive and animalistic, but passionate and feral. It was such an arrousal to the little fem boy. Hearing what his boyfriend had to say, Caleb replied. “ I’m all yours, baby……..Make me yours.”

That’s when it happened. Holding onto the hand that caressed his man boob, Caleb felt it. He felt a massive foreign entity excavating the insides of his vagina canal. It was so big and so strong, Caleb couldn’t help but squeal like the bitch that he was. “ Oh baby,” he said in his adorable fem boy voice. “ OH MY GOD!!!!!” And with that, Blake’s manhood was buried it’s self deep inside the dark red head’s vaginal cavern. The walls of his vagina wrapped themselves tightly around the quarterback’s manhood. It was undeniable proof that Blake was a virgin, well least he was. In this sensuous, erotic and beautiful moment, Caleb and Blake had officially become one.

Ever since he first laid eyes on the jock, since they’ve been dating for the last six months and ever since their relationship went from casual to serious, Caleb had dreamed of this moment. The little red head spent so many nights working up the most incredible orgasms over the man who occupied his mouth. He said so many nights reading the following books

“ The Power of Sex in Ancient Rome.”

“ The Sexual Practices of Ancient Egypt.”

“ In Bed in Ancient Greece.”

“ The Karma Sutra.”

He should have been focused on his studies. He should have been focused on excelling in his major. Ever since Caleb met Blake, his world changed. His priorities changed. He worked so hard to get to college all on his own. The boy had a difficult life and he never got a single hand out. He worked his ass off to get here, but ever since the quarterback and now heisman trophy owner came into his life unexpectedly, the red head’s life has never been the same. He didn’t care about college. All Caleb cared about was Blake.

Caleb proved that his late night reading sessions paid off. He proved that his loyalty and devotion was real. Most of all, Caleb proved that he wasn’t a prude. He proved that deep down, underneath that little cherub face and introverted personality, a sex crazed, cock worshipping slut was coming to the surface. The red head wanted to do this for so long. So many times, Caleb wanted to say fuck it and give Blake what he wanted. He couldn’t. He felt something different for the god like athlete. Something he never felt before. The freshman needed to see that the senior was willing to go the distance for him, and Blake did that and so much more. It was proof that Blake really was the man the little red head always dreamed about. So many lonely nights, Caleb dreamed about the day his prince would come and save him. He dreamed about having a man to call his husband. Deep down, Caleb knew he found that in Blake, and he wanted to thank and reward the jock by worshipping and glorifying his unbelievably god like shaft. It was throbbing and pulsating in his beautiful mouth.

Up and down. Up and down. Slowly but surely, Caleb took in an incredible amount of musky dick. The shaft was drenched in sweat, and the smell was potent, borderline pungent. Caleb didn't care. He loved it. Not only did he love it, he was going crazy for it and couldn’t get enough of it. That smell was literally setting his brain on fire, and he was loving every minute of it. All of his life, Caleb kept this side of himself locked away from the rest of the world. All his life, his father shamed him for how he was born, for being different from other boys, for being effeminiate and girly in nature. All of his life, Caleb tried to fight his urges to submit to men and quietly shame himself for his natural human needs. In Blake, Caleb found a man who cared about him for who he was, not what his father or brother wanted him to be. Dare he say it, Caleb felt that Blake even loved his submissive and feminine nature. That alone proved that Blake was the man he was looking for and the man Caleb needed, so the boy thanked him by worshipping his incredible dick. Not only dick Caleb worship it, slowly, the beautiful boy made his way to the very base of Blake’s shaft. Yes, Caleb proved to Blake that not only could he worship dick, not only did he enjoy it when it was foul, he could take it, every last inch of it into the depths of his pretty warm mouth. Right there, Caleb proved that he was wifey material.

The boy didn’t speak. His musical moans did it for him. Those beautiful, feminine moans filled the air and they proved that little Caleb was a dick crazy slut. He wasn’t a slut for any dick. He was a slut for Blake’s dick, and it wasn't because he was well endowed. Blake could have been tiny down there, and Caleb wouldn’t care. The boy loved the man, not his dick. Still, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying every minute he dedicated to sucking that dick. Caleb didn’t blow, he sucked. No teeth and no gagging. Caleb proved that he was a true bottom and that he was born to be a submit. Looking upwards into Blake’s horny eyes, Caleb showed his boyfriend he was equally addicted to the power and magic of sex. He may be a virgin, but his need for dick was all encompassing and proved more powerful than his lack of experience. Experience didn't make the cock sucker; it was the act of submission and the act of providing a service that proved he was born to take care of a man's primitive urges and human needs. Cockworshipping was an instinct. It couldn’t be taught. That’s why Caleb proved in this very moment that he was special.

Up and down, up and down, Caleb didn’t stop. The boy sucked all of that cock and his moans exposed him for the slut that he was. He was loving every minute of it, and his girly squeals and feminine moans proved that. He had no idea that it was about to get even better. Looking upwards, Caleb could tell that he was doing his job. Blake was enjoying himself. Feeling that strong hand on his head, he heard the praise and positive reinforcement. That’s all he ever wanted. That’s when he felt that gentle grip on the back of his neck. He knew his boyfriend wanted to take over, and being the good sub that he was, the little sissy allowed his alpha of a partner to take control.

It was slow at first. Caleb would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, but he trusted that the man who had occupied his mouth. Little Caleb let go and allow his alpha to fuck his mouth. It was slow at first. He heard the questions Blake asked him, but he didn't answer. He couldn’t. All he could do was moan in approval. Deep down, he instinctively knew that’s all that was needed of him. That’s when the athlete started to pick up the speed. Looking upwards, Caleb watched in awe as his boyfriend started to plow himself into the eighteen year old’s mouth. His alpha energy was undeniable. The red head watched his boyfriend with such intent. He could tell that topping, dominating, claiming and breeding came so naturally to him. Caleb had never seen anything so amazing. He never felt so aroused. The faster Blake went, the more Caleb's little opening soaked itself in it’s natural juices. Caleb never felt so turned on. So much so, as Blake worked his magic, Caleb slowly lifted his cheerleader crop top, exposing his chest. Caleb had the most beautiful pecs imaginable. They were creamy, supple and pink. Allowing Blake to plow, Caleb started to moan like the whore that he was. His eyeballs rolled into the back of his head as the red head started to grope, squeeze and tease his own man boobs. Caleb was starting to gag, he was only human. That was proof that the pleasure he felt was out of this world.

Just as the speed was reaching incredible levels, it slowly started to slow down. Blake soon pulled out, and when he did, Caleb gasped for air and started to pant. He couldn’t help it. It was only natural. Blake’s dick was unimaginably big, and worshipping it was enough to push anyone to within an inch of their sanity. Caleb was no different. Blake’s dick took Caleb’s breathe away, but that wasn’t the only thing Caleb wanted to taste. He threw his face deep in between Blake’s legs, right into his crotch and took in one good smell. That scent did it. It officially drew Caleb insane. He wanted more, he needed more, so he started to play with Blake’s testicles. They were so big, so smelly and they dangled like christmas ornaments. First Caleb kissed, worshipped and suckled on one testicle and then the other. Then he sucked both of them into his mouth like a vacuum cleaner. The boy was such a natural bottom bitch, and he was loving every minute of it. Coming up only for air, he felt Blake teasing him again with that dick he fell in love with. Caleb teased Blake right back by kissing and suckling on that delicious bell shaped head. He would have gone for round two, but the boy was given an order and it was his duty to do as he was told.

Doing what his alpha ordered him to do, Caleb made his way to Blake’s bed. However, before getting comfortable, the boy decided to tease Blake by slowly taking off his crop top, completely exposing his upper chest. He wasn’t done. After that, he turned around and slowly took off his short shorts, exposing his ridiculously large and supple round ass. Not only that, Caleb teased Blake with a little wet beaver shot. Caleb liked to tease, but he had six months of that. Blake had proven himself man enough to claim him, and Caleb was ready to give his all to hisboyfriend. No, his manfriend. Posing himself so naturally and beautifully, Caleb was now on all fours. His glorious and beautiful ass was exposed, showing off his best parts. His massive cheeks, his tight little asshole, his virginal pussy and the most beautiful and seductive feet an alpha man could ever want. Caleb looked so good over those silky sheets and rose pedals. He had such a beautiful body. It was all you can eat buffet, and it was all for Blake. He had many delicious dishes to choose from. Looking over his shoulder, Caleb gave Blake a seductive little stare and spoke in a sensuous and down right slutty little voice.

“ There’s a new field for you to dominate, Sir. You proved to me that your man enough to claim it. I want you to claim what’s yours. I need you to officially make me yours and only yours. I’m yours, Baby. All yours. Only yours.”

[earthtoplum]

hellraiser. // eddie munson. (3)

pairing: eddie munson x female!reader - stranger things cast x female!reader

summary: Between school, band practices, D&D nights and shitty parents, you and Eddie have created the perfect little secret life together. The town of Hawkins despises him, but not you. You're head over heels for the son of a bitch. About to graduate, the two of you are ready to run out of Indiana the moment those caps go in the air, but the inevitable Hawkins Curse creeps its way back into town, and takes hold of what you once thought was untouchable.

word count: 8k (getting longer and longer)

warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of drinking, language, SEASON 4 SPOILERS.

a/n: hi, thanks for being here! :) I keep writing this at the speed of light. Posting for myself, really. Follows the storyline of Season 4! Beware of spoilers in case you haven't watched the masterpiece. Loved writing this part, I love writing the characters, ah!

*gif not mine, creds to whoever owns*

visit me on wattpad!

three. the cheerleader

The white kitchen tile was cold beneath your feet where you stood with the fridge door wide open searching for something to drink. Only awake for a couple of minutes, your body was begging for you to put anything in it. Snatching the last Coke from the bottom shelf that Tina probably forgot to get rid of, you crack it open and take the smallest sip, the bubbles stinging your tongue.

Your parents were in the living room with Jeffery and Marshall. Looking in there as you came down the stairs you saw the boys on the floor in front of the TV working on their school projects as your parents watched the news. Tina was up as you came in the door last night, surprising you. She was with Marshall in the kitchen you were standing in now wiping tears from his cheek while he drank a glass of water. A heartwarming scene to anyone other than you, someone who can’t get past the fact that they’re getting the mother you never had.

Crossing an arm across your front, you rest the elbow of the other on it to balance the can of soda by your lips thinking about how even right now she was in the other room giving the boys pointers on their work, possibly crouching down to her knees to help them cut and paste things, and you knew the boys were eating it up. 

The awkward air between you two as you walked into the kitchen last night was so thick you could’ve cut it with a knife, or the sharp eyes she was looking at you with. You could think you were keeping things a well hidden secret all you wanted, but she knew the t-shirt you were in didn’t belong to you. She mentioned how you were home later than usual, and you had to remind her that it was Hellfire night. Her eyes took you in up and down, your unruly hair, your baggy clothes, the shoes she didn’t buy for you.

Then she looked to Marshall, placed a hand to his cheek as her expression softened, and told him it was time to try to go to bed, and ushered him up the stairs.

She didn’t ask you how the club was, she didn’t question how you got home. If she had you would’ve told her that Gareth drove you home, and that it was a blast because Gareth is the nicest friend you have. He asks about your day, and he actually listens. Not many friends know how to do that, most listen to talk, and talk about themselves. Maybe you would’ve told her that Eddie left Hellfire to help out a, friend, in need, and that he wasn’t the bad guy everyone cracked him up to be. Much like Gareth, exteriors do not match interiors, the cover cannot be judged.

“Get. Your ass! In here!” Is shouted from the living room, followed by a shrill shout of your name. Nearly letting the soda slip from your fingers, you jump, place it on the counter behind you and rush through the archway to find your parents on the edge of the couch, three feet away from each other, with a twin in each of your mothers arms. She was watching the news anchor on the TV with wild eyes, your father glaring at you with worry. 

“What?” You hurry to ask, you haven’t heard them this scared ever in your life, “What!” You shout, darting your head back and forth from the TV to your family. Neil points a finger to the screen, and that’s when you see it.

A shockwave of panic ripped down your spine and into your knees where they gave out and sent you to the floor. Shuffling toward the set as fast as you could, you crank the volume up and whisper a guttural, “No.”

Nausea rose within you as you heard the words and read them on the screen. A Hawkins student was murdered.

And this woman was standing in front of Eddie’s trailer.

Sucking in a deep breath that takes control of your lungs abruptly, you feel your arms start to shake and fingers go numb. 

Not Eddie.

From behind you your name is spoken, you can’t tell by who.

Not Eddie.

On the couch someone says that they don’t know who it is yet, but you can’t tell who said it.

Not Eddie.

There’s a soft cry happening behind you, one of your brothers.

Your name is spoken again. Filled with adrenaline, you whip your head around to your family watching you. Your mother and her perfect hair was crouched on the carpet in front of the couch, reaching a hand out toward you. The colors in the room felt like they were vibrating. Growing brighter and brighter until it seemed they may burst like a lightbulb being force fed too much electricity.

Her nails were painted yellow, her favorite color. Painfully ripping your teary eyes from hers, you glance down to her hand and gulp. Unaware of how violently you had started to tremble, you tried to lift your own, but you were completely paralyzed.

“Listen… I’m… For you…” Tina spoke. The room spun around you. 

“They didn’t… Not released…” Neil spoke. You looked at him in what felt like slow motion, and it was making you sick. He didn’t seem worried at all, in fact, your panic induced paralysis made him seem smug. He watched the woman on the screen who was still speaking with a raised eyebrow. You swore he wore a hint of a smirk.

“...Cursed…” He muttered something else, every other word being understood as your palms started to sweat. Tina’s palm faced you, waiting for you.

“Ever since that girl Barb died a few years ago, it has been one thing after another…” Another woman on the TV was talking. The pain of your old friend's name resurfacing stabs you further in the heart. The town hasn’t spoken of her in ages.

“Only this happens at the trailer park,” You snap your head to look at your father who was sitting up tall, speaking loud and proud, “And you saw whose place they were looking in? What have we been saying for years, Tina?” More tears spilled from your eyes, and they started in your mothers. She gave her hand a small shake, begging for you to take it. “Someone else in Hawkins is dead, and look where they were searching.”

“Neil!” Tina shouts, turning her head.

“Fuck… you,” You mutter, springing to your feet. Calling after you, your mother stands and rushes to the bottom of the stairs that you just thundered up. Both of your brothers were in tears, your father doing nothing to console them. Instead he shakes his head and leans back on the cushions to finish the story.

Up in your bedroom you slam your door shut, pacing around the floor, raking your fingers through your hair trying to calm your breathing. Throwing open your dresser drawers, nothing was satisfying your eye to change into. The world was still spinning, it was like looking through a microscope. You had to get out of here, you had to make sure it wasn’t him. Not him.

Grabbing your denim jacket you pull it over your shirt and hurry to your window, throwing it open without a care to who hears it. Following through, you acrobat your way to the ground, into the backyard.

Downstairs your mother is still at the bottom of the steps, calling out your name when your father tells her to come sit down.

“She’s not going to come back,” He huffs, “Let her mope, this is Barbara all over again.” Tina sighs, hanging her head.

“We weren’t there for her through Barb,” She says, “Neil, what kind of relationship do we have with our daughter?” She comes back into the living room and scoops both boys under her dainty arms again.

“She doesn’t want one! Hasn’t that been clear?” He shoots her a glare, “You try to protect your children from monsters, and it pushes them right into their open arms. Now look at what's happened. Either that boy is dead, or he’s committed a crime I’m not too surprised about.”

The thud of your feet hitting the living room roof makes everyone jump. 

“What in the hell?” Neil mutters, standing to his feet. Marshall clings to Tina with fear, still crying into her shoulder, “She’s really not gonna come back in here.” 

“Why?” Tina asks, shifting the boys into each other's arms so she can stand next to her husband. Neil points to the fence he just watched you climb over.

“She just jumped out her window,” He nods, crossing his arms. Gasping, Tina rushes to the front door, yanking it open, and sure enough there you were running in your Converse across the street heading straight toward Eddie’s. She calls your name twice, and the strain in her voice almost makes you turn around, but with the tears staining your cheeks you keep running.

“You were meeting with Chrissy,” You whisper to yourself, sucking in deep breaths as you rushed, “I was supposed to come over,” Your heart sunk further into your stomach that was a rioting mess, “I should’ve… fuck, I should’ve come over.” Guilt starts to fill the empty parts of you now. You could’ve done something to prevent this.

You ran until his house was in view, and the sight was unnerving. Sure, the cops have been called here before, but there’s never been an ambulance out front or this many people. A crowd was surrounding the news trucks, ample words of worry and fear being shouted to the innocent people just trying to do their job and report on the situation. Slowing down beside one of their vehicles on the outside of the commotion, you spot Eddie’s neighbor from across the road. The little freshman with red hair, the one who was friends with the freshman in Hellfire. She was standing on her porch with, you guess, her mother, who wore the same expression as your father.

Twisting your head the other way as you hear the sheriff’s voice speak, you spot Wayne sitting on the picnic table at the end of the street with a cigarette in his hand. He was staring at the ground, and was incredibly still. Eddie wasn’t there. 

Elbowing your way through the mess of people who glared down at you, you hurry to his side.

“Uncle Wayne?” You ask quietly, your voice shaking. His tired eyes are the only thing to point to you. He sighs at the recognition of you.

“He’s not here,” He says, and tears well up in your eyes, “Wasn’t here when I came home… Wasn’t here when I… found her.”

“Her?” Your voice cracks. With wide eyes, you take a step toward him. Wayne shakes his head ominously, looking back at the trailer with narrowed eyes.

“I’ve seen a lot of shit, kid. I mean it. A lot. Been through all of it,” He says before dropping his tone, “But, I ain’t never… seen anything like that.”

“Chrissy?” You whisper, and Wayne looks you in the eye, “Ch-Cheerleader?”

“Mhm,” Was his answer, then after a few minutes of silence between the two of you he turned his head, “It wasn’t him,” He says, “Don’t know where he went… but, it wasn’t Eddie.” 

About to ask him another question, a reporter from the Hawkins Post cuts you off from a distance, hurrying over to Wayne who gives him a look of disgust. 

“Go, get,” Wayne whispers to you, shooing you away with the cigarette in his hand. The reporter's eyes are on you as you turn heel and walk toward the entrance to the park. Glancing toward Eddie and Wayne’s trailer, a chill runs over you when you see them loading a stretcher into the back of the ambulance.

“Hey,” Is said from behind you, to you, catching you off-guard. Stumbling on the rocks, you turn and find Eddie’s neighbor at the end of her yard, looking at you. “Yes, you,” She tilts her head and motions for you to come closer, “I’m Max,” There it was, “You probably don't know me, but I know you. God, that sounds totally creepy,” She shakes her head, “Uh, Eddie’s not here.” Taking a breath, you shove your hands in your pockets and nod excessively. 

“Yup,” You say quickly, “People keep telling me that.”

“He drove away last night,” Max’s tone is barely a whisper, but her words are intriguing, “I saw him.”

“You saw…” Stepping closer to her, she jolts her head back at the sudden loss of personal space, “Where? What? What happened?”

“Can we go somewhere else to talk about this? There’s somebody else I need to talk to,” Her eyes scan the premises, skeptical of the other people in the area. You didn’t have a plan to go back home. That was actually the last place you wanted to be right now, what you wanted was to find Eddie. This freshman never gave you a bad feeling, and it was kind of nice that she seemed like she wanted to help.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” You stammer, “I just… I need to find him.” Max gestures to her trailer where her mom had gone inside now.

“Only for a second,” She assures you, “I’m gonna change, then we can go.” Nodding your head, you fold your arms around your body, glancing back to Eddie’s trailer once before following Max inside her home.

“Who’s place is this?” You ask with a hint of anxiety still in your voice. You figured it’d be there for a while. Looking up and around at the beautiful one story home you were standing on the porch of, Max turns over her shoulder to look at you. She thins out her lips as she takes in your jittery being.

“Dustin’s,” She says, calm, surprised that the name makes you jump.

“Henderson? Dustin Henderson?” You ask with persistence, and you’re answered with the opening of the door, the very boy you speak of on the other side of it. A bit of relief comes over you as you look at each other. The two of you were just together last night at Hellfire, maybe Eddie had come here, he loved this kid. However, when he and Max share a moment, his energy shifts. 

“And… you two are together… how?” Dustin asks Max after he shuts the door of his bedroom. Max explains the morning to her friend who starts to pace back and forth. Finding a spot on the wall by his closet, you sink to the floor and cuddle your knees into your chest listening to her side of the story.

“Chrissy Cunningham?!” Henderson exclaims, “You’re sure it was Chrissy?”

“Yes,” You and Max both respond.

“In her cheerleader outfit. Same thing she was in when I saw her with Eddie,” She continues, and Dustin eyes you where you sat staring at the floor.

“Did you not go with them?” He asks you. Turning your chin to look up at him where he pauses his pace, you lower your eyebrows.

“Gareth took me home,” You tell him, and his face distorts.

“But you’re dating,” He states.

“Yup,” Your tone is flat, Dustin moves on.

“Did you tell all of this to the cops?” He asks Max, turning away from you.

“No,” She says, “But, I can’t be the only one who saw them together. They stood out.”

“I saw them together,” You speak up, “I watched them get in the van together, I watched them drive away last night. I fucking kissed him goodbye!” Dustin and Max both pause and look at you staring at them with a crazed look, one that might’ve resembled Eddie’s.

“How long’ve you guys been together?” Max mumbles quietly.

“Okay, but still!” Dustin shakes his head, “Eddie the freak and Chrissy the cheerleader?” That was twice in three days you’ve heard those words. Eddie the freak. You very well could have told them why Eddie was hanging out with Chrissy, but you decided to keep it to yourself, the poor girl’s life was just taken from her. Eddie told you so many times how it seemed like she was going through something, and that all he wanted to do was help her. There wasn’t any way in the hell that is Hawkins that Eddie had done this.

While the freshman spoke, you let your gaze fall back down to the floor, chiming in with a scoff or a sigh when you heard one of them say something utterly ridiculous, like how Max compared Eddie to Ted Bundy. You were siding with Dustin, the curly headed boy finally giving you a sneak of a smile. Dustin felt bad for you as much as he was worried for his friend, and you knew you only saw him in school, but he looked up to Eddie. He was their leader, their protector, the one who saved them from four years of total doom. You were both connected now.a

When the two sit down on Dustin's bed, you watch with confused brows as Max quietly speaks about what went on before she saw Eddie run out of the trailer. Wincing at the thought of him screaming, you bite down onto your bottom lip.

“The look on his face… He was scared, Dustin,” Max states, giving her friend a worried look. A knowing look. There was something else. “Really scared. Maybe he was scared because, you know, he just killed someone, or… maybe, um… maybe because… I don’t know, um…”

“Something else killed her,” Dustin says, and Max snaps her head to look at him. You were lost until you thought about Barb, and the theories people were coming up with after her death was announced to the public. Kids were making up horror stories, some too gruesome to even imagine would be real. Her death was a tragic accident, there didn’t seem to be a connection between these two events happening… not in the way they both passed.

“But that’s impossible right?” Max asks, laughing through her worry.

“I don’t know… it should be,” Dustin sighs, rocking his head.

“What are you two talking about?” You ask, and they both jump as if they forgot you were there, “Chrissy was murdered.”

“In your boyfriend's trailer,” Max says, and before you can say anything snarky back to her she continues, “And he wasn’t there.”

“There is only one person who knows what actually happened,” Dustin says.

“Eddie,” You and Max say simultaneously.

Barrelling toward the front door of Dustins, you follow right behind the freshman who give a short, quick goodbye to his worried mother after listing the names of their friends they needed to get in touch with. Nancy’s name had been dropped, and to you it made no sense. You never hung around your brother's friends.

Trotting down the stairs off his porch, you come to terms with the fact that you may just have to see Nancy if you’re going to be hanging around these two.

“What are you riding?” Dustin asks as he hops on his bike. Looking down at the pink bike that looked as if it was on its last life, you sigh.

“My old bike,” Max smiles, not mentioning the tiny tantrum you had when she offered it to you because you just cannot seem to escape the color pink.

“When’s the last time you rode a bike?” Dustin laughs, digging at your age.

“You have a lot of balls when Eddie’s not around,” You laugh with him, feeling refreshed with the sudden lightheartedness. Maybe these kids weren’t that bad. “Where are we going?” 

“Family Video,” Dustin wiggles his eyebrows sarcastically, and sighs at your confusion, “You’ll see. When’s the last time you talked to Steve?” You choked audibly and laughed.

“Steve the hair Harrington?” You say, and the children are unfazed, “I’ve spoken to him maybe twice in my life. The guy’s a douche.”

“Hey!” Dustin spats, adjusting his hat, “That guy is a hero.” You roll your eyes and nearly snort.

“Sure, okay, Henderson,” You egg on, “The only heroic thing I’ve seen him do is tap a keg.” The kids share a look of disapproval.

“No one knows anything,” Dustin grumbles, pedaling forward on his bike, “Onward, ladies.” 

It’s not that you forgot how to ride a bike. You forgot how demanding it was. Dustin and Max seemed like they could do this for hours, and they probably did. When you were in middle school you enjoyed this sometimes, but not all the time. Many feet behind the kids, you were sweating and trying to catch your breath. It was entirely unappealing, you preferred a much different style of cardio.

Family Video finally came into view and you gasped out of joy, Max turning back over her shoulder to see if you were alright. Tossing the bikes to the ground you take a deep breath and realize the other two are fine. Dustin asks you if you're good, and you nod, using the bottom of your t-shirt to dab away the sweat on your forehead. Max gives you another small smile, and for a split second, you return it.

The store was small, but inviting. You can remember coming here on Friday nights with your parents when you were younger so that you could pick out a movie and a snack for the weekend. Dustin led you guys inside, greeting the used to be crowned king of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington.

“Hey, Steve,” He says.

“You see this?” Steve asks, his eyebrows making their home in the center of his forehead as he points at the TV hanging on the wall. The other girl behind the counter you recognized from school, Robin. She was in the band, and she knew how to talk.

“How many phones do you have?” Ignoring Steve's question, Dustin leans forward against the counter. Looking up behind them, Steve and Robin notice you and their eyes widen. 

“What’s she doing with you?” Robin asks quietly.

“Y-yeah, wait, I’m confused,” Steve mumbles beside her. He was a lot calmer than he used to be. Forcing your lips into a little smile, you roll your eyes and nod your head once. “Someone was murdered-”

“How many phones do you have!” Dustin persists, and the two behind the counter look at one another. They seemed pretty comfortable with each other, sitting closer than any co-workers would normally be.

“Two. Why?” Steve says.

“Technically three, if you count Keith’s in the back,” Robin points out. 

“Yeah, three works,” The freshman agree, and start to set up camp behind the register at Family Video. Dustin flings his backpack and himself over the counter, knocking over strategically set up tapes from the older two who shout at him as he does.

“Are you guys not busy?” You ask, walking around the other side with Max, gesturing toward the movies that fell onto the floor. Robin shoots you a disappointed look, one that you smirk and shrug at. She looked pretty with the way her hair was styled, she never got done up for school this way, which has you putting together a theory. Robin and Steve the hair Harrington were a thing. You’ve had class with Robin before, she was funny, and she could do way better than Steve- unless this hero thing with Dustin has anything to do with it.

“Nice pants,” She digs at you, picking up her videos. Looking down at your legs you laugh at yourself.

“Left the house in a bit of a rush,” You say quietly. Shamelessly you were wearing dark blue, accented with light blue, striped pajama pants. The pants probably went great with the white Motley Crue tour t-shirt you wore with your jacket and Converse.

Robin looks up from the floor and smiles, “No, I meant it. I like them.”

“What are you doing, man?” Steve groans, watching Dustin take over the computer.

“Setting up a base of operations here.”

“Base of operations?” Robin asks, looking around at the three of you. She finishes cleaning the floor of the VHSs and gives you another quick look.

“Get off,” Steve says.

“No, I need it,” Dustin pleads.

“Need it for what?”

“Eddie’s friends phone numbers,” Dustin says, and Steve scoffs. You make yourself comfortable, hopping up to sit on one of the counters, smoothing out the lines on the pants you giggle at yourself for wearing. Robin smiles at you.

“Oh, your new best friend Eddie you think is cooler because he plays your nerdy game?” Steve taunts.

“Hey,” You whine. Steve waves a hand at you.

“Yes!” Dustin exclaims, then looks at him, “I never said that.”

“A little jealous, Harrington?” You tease, chiming into the conversation. Steve glances to you.

“Isn’t he your entire personality, why do you even need to look this stuff up?” Steve turns back to Dustin. Clapping your hands a couple times, you gesture them back at his back.

“See, Henderson? Douche,” You grin, and a laugh escapes Max.

“Yeah, seriously,” Dustin takes a second to glare at Steve who dramatically rolls his eyes.

“You guys, maybe on a Monday you can play around in here like toddlers, okay, but it’s Saturday,” Robin parents, stacking the video tapes back on the counter, “It’s our busiest day.” 

“Robin, I love- Robin. I empathize, but this cannot wait until Monday,” Dustin says a mile a minute, and Steve groans, dragging his hands down his face. You look over to Robin who turns to you with a silent laugh, bringing up your bitchy joke from earlier. Crickets were chirping in this place.

“What so calling all of Eddie’s friends is an emergency? You have one right here,” She throws an arm in your direction before continuing to clean up the mess that was made.

“Correct!” Dustin cheers. Steve directs his attention to Robin, helping her straighten up.

“Uh, d’you want me to strangle him or do you want to?” Steve jokes.

“We could take turns,” Robin sighs, almost leaning back onto his chest. Yup, definitely a thing. Steve turns back to the kids that were murmuring to one another, giving you a chance to check out Robin’s pants. She definitely had to wear them for work, but you liked them too.

“Can you fill them in while I do this?” Dustin asks Max.

“Fill us in on what?” Robin is frustrated as she turns around, having you divert your eyes from her choice of clothing. Taking a deep breath, Max obtains the undivided attention from the olders and gives them the story of the situation, starting with last night. You helped her fill in details from your side for the previous night, leaving out why Chrissy and Eddie were together. Steve’s eyes linger on you as you brush off how weird it looked to anyone who didn’t know why they were together, he seemed concerned. You wanted to tease him, maybe ask why it bothered him, had he been in those shoes before? But, you stop yourself because you realize he has.  Those couple of months you spent with Jonathan Byers told you plenty.

At the end of the story, Max did the same thing she did with Dustin, she implied the possibility of ‘something else’ doing this, losing you again. With the mention of this you figured she’d lose Robin and Steve too, but instead it sent them into a frenzy.

Family Video was then swiftly turned into an investigation station. Papers, everywhere. Robin found a white board and started listing names and numbers while you stood with her to help her fill in the details. Gareth’s parents were called, Eddie wasn’t there.  One person told you guys to check the arcade to which you and Robin both shook your heads, stifling laughs as she told them she really doesn’t think Eddie is there.

At one point, as you sit on the counter again flipping through pages that Dustin had written out, Steve comes to your side and leans his back on the edge. Looking at him without turning your head, you continue flipping, hoping that any of these names in the plethora of choices you had would be a winner. Steve looks down at the chicken scratch and clears his throat.

“What do you want?” You ask, placing the book on your knees. Steve looks at you, then turns away with a shrug.

“Nothin’, nothin’…” He mumbles, then faces you completely, “So, you and Eddie,” He begins, and you groan, “W-wait, hold on,” He holds up a hand, “This whole thing doesn’t add up. Are you guys still dating? I mean, why was he with Chrissy at his house alone last night…” Robin’s attention is piqued, you catch her looking over her shoulder at you.

“Yeah, we’re dating,” You say quietly, “Trust me, I know what he and Chrissy were up to.” Steve clenches his jaw.

“It’s just fishy,” He says.

“Fishy?” You snort, Robin laughing with you.

“Shit is fishy! No guy would-“

“Wrong,” Dustin held up his pointer finger, his attention focused forward on his work, “Eddie is a man of his word.” Steve scoffs, rolling his head backward.

“You said his uncle works nights, he took a cheerleader home,” He drags out his words for emphasis while you sit patiently, waiting for him to finish with a smile on your face.

“Relax,” Robin kicks a foot backward to collide with his knee, “Big boy’s a little insecure ‘cause he can’t get a girlfriend.” 

“Yeah, and, Steve, they do it like… all the time. They’re not breaking up,” Max chimes in, making your eyes go wide. She shrugs, slightly cringing, “We live in a trailer park.” Pressing your lips together you let out a painful chuckle, and look back to Steve and Robin bickering.

“I’m sorry, did you say Harrington can’t get a girlfriend?” You smirk. Robin grins with glee and nods. “I really thought you two were together when we came in here.” Both of them freeze, snap their necks to look at one another, and start dying laughing.

“Trust me, I’m not into Steve,” Robin giggles, waving her hands around. Dustin groans where he’s at at the computer, going to his book to scribble out another name.

“Am I the only one working here?” He shouts, looking back at the circus that broke out behind him. 

“Yeesh,” Robin sneers playfully. Everyone makes their way back to their posts, but Robin is sure to catch your attention first. She points at Steve and gives you a thumbs down, then she cuts at her neck as if her previous statement of not being into Steve wasn’t enough indication for you.

The front door of the store jingles and a girl in her twenties waltzes in, her done up eyes scanning the shelves happily. 

Robin clears her throat, “Pretty one, Stevie, go.” She whispers, and holds up a hand that fingers are counting to three, and once the third one is in the air, Steve is planted right beside the girl with an elbow on a shelf smugly.

“She is pretty,” You say, admiring the way the brunette was dressed. Robin steals a glance at you, both of you eyeing one another for some reason. Robin’s eyes travel downward to your pants. Smiling the smallest smile, she gently shakes her head and goes back to her work.

A considerable amount of time passes, and about a hundred phone calls seem to be made. Whoever owns this company is not going to be happy when they get this phone bill. Gareth ended up calling back just to check on you. Max had him on the phone when he started to talk about Reefer Rick.

“Hey guys, I think I might have a lead,” She spins around with confidence after hanging the phone up.

“Seriously?” Dustin almost spins off of the stool he was on. Putting down the papers you were holding next to Robin, you both turn around to listen to the red head.

“Apparently Eddie gets drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick?” She starts, and you nod, really fast.

“Yeah, Rick,” You say, and Robin taps your arm for not thinking of this sooner.

“Sometimes Eddie crashes there,” Max says, then looks at you, “Have you ever been there?” You nod again.

“Once or twice,” You avert your eyes around the room as you think, “But it was really dark. I  think that was the window we broke into…” Robin glances to the freshman in shock, but she knows they’ve heard and done worse.

“Well this sounds promising, where does this Reefer Rick live?” She asks, holding her hands open.

“See, that’s the thing. No one knows,” Max says.

“He’s more of a legend than someone that people actually know,” You bob your head, trying to pull together memories of nights at Ricks, but rolling around half naked on his couch with Eddie didn’t seem appropriate to share right now. Thinking about how you got there, you couldn’t even piece that together. It was summer, it was hot out, and you were really drunk.

“What about a last name?” Dustin asks hopefully. You shake your head and Max answers with an, “I don’t know.”

“Bet the cops know a last name,” Steve says, coming back to the group after escorting the pretty brunette outside. He had started organizing some of the video tape baskets.

“What?” You question.

“The cops,” He restates, “I mean listen, this Reefer Rick, if he’s actually a drug dealer, I guarantee you he’s been busted at some point. Means he’s in the system.”

“The cops?” Dustin scoffs, “Really, Steve? That’s your suggestion?” 

“I think they should be filled in on what we know, on what’s going on,” He suggests. You straighten up, feeling a bout of rage in your chest. Dustin slides off his stool, his eyes are wide.

“You think Eddie’s guilty, don’t you?” He asks, and your hands tighten into fists. Robin notices and reaches for one of your wrists.

“Whoa,” Steve flings his hand around, “I believe in innocence until proven guilty, all that constitutional shit. I just, yanno, don’t think we can rule it out.” Ripping your hand away from Robin, you slam them both on the counter in front of Steve and stare him down. The jock flinches, then slowly turns to meet your eyes.

“If you think, for a second, that we’re involving the cops, I will tear that snug little vest off of your body and shove it so far up your ass it’ll come out of your ears,” You snarl, making Max laugh quietly. Steve stares at you in shock, “I know Eddie. He didn’t do it,” You lower your voice for only Steve to hear, “He can’t even smack me across the face while we’re doing it in the back of his van without checking seventeen times if I’m okay,” Your words have him looking elsewhere, “So, let’s spend a little less time looking for a girlfriend, and a little more time trying to find the son of a bitch who I love, oh, so, very much.” 

“Oh, wow, I’ve got it,” Robin sighs happily, hurrying over to the computer.

“What’re you doing?” Max asks, peering over her shoulder. Your standoff with Steve ends when you push away from the counter, maintaining eye contact until he breaks away, then you turn over Robin's other shoulder.

“Maybe we don’t need a last name,” She says and types the name Rick on the keyboard, hits enter, and twelve Rick’s appear on the screen. Clicking on each one, a list of movies that they’ve rented comes up, so you use that to narrow down which Rick would be your Reefer Rick.

Rick number five is the winner. Rick Lipton.

“I would’ve never guessed his last name would be Lipton, that seems so simple for a drug dealer,” Dustin says, making you all laugh in a way.

“What’d you expect? Rick Marijuana?” Robin teases, and Dustin groans as the group laughs louder. She announces Ricks address, mentioning how it’s a perfect place to hide, right by Lovers Lake in the middle of nowhere.

“Oh my god, the lake!” You exclaim, clapping your hands together. The four of them look at you curiously. Dropping your hands by your side sheepishly, you shake your head, “Another thing I can’t… share with the class.”

“My god,” Steve huffs quietly, “You make me want to not find this dude, for your sake.”

“Let’s go,” Max says, and everyone breaks into a rush except for Steve who takes his time, the two of you in another standoff.

“Harrington, when was the last time you-”

“Uh uh,” He demands, “Not going there,” He throws his vest on the shelf under the computer as Robin laughs at him in the background, “But like… are you good?” He genuinely questions, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Am I what?” You ask, folding your arms defensively.

“Like, are you okay?” Steve cracks a smile, pulling on his jacket, “I’ve known you for, what, an hour? And I’m pretty sure I have a good idea of what your sex life is like.”

“Come on, ladies,” Robin sings as she hurries for the door with the freshman. 

“I’m fantastic,” You smile at him, “I’m sure you’d love to find out.” Laughing dramatically, Steve tosses his hair backward and slowly shakes his head.

“We’re leaving,” He snickers, trying to bury his growing curiosity.

By the time you got out to Lovers Lake it was dark, everything suddenly becoming a lot more familiar. The car ride here was a little awkward, being shoved in the car with four people you barely knew wasn’t your idea of fun. Robin let you sit up front next to Steve so you didn’t have to be squished between the freshman.

Steve pulled down the dirt road slowly, the streets out here were terribly dark. Robin was right when she said this place was great to lay low. Studying what you could see out the glass, you agreed with yourself that this place seemed a lot more exciting after a drink or two. The house was also just as dark, not a single light was on.

“Hope your boy’s not afraid of the dark,” Steve mutters after turning the radio off.

“He’s not,” You say quietly, looking past his glorious head of hair to check out the windows of the house. Steve smirks, nodding.

“‘Course he’s not,” He says to himself. Parking the car, leaving the keys in the ignition, the kids pour out of the backseat with determination- well, at least Dustin did. The longer you were around him the more you learned to appreciate how ambitious he was. Clunking up the stairs as a group, Dustin rings the doorbell, and you all wait patiently.

Then, he rings it again. And again. And again, and again-

“Okay, well that’s settled. Guess he’s not here,” Steve says, holding up one of the flashlights so Dustin could see the door.

“Eddie! It’s Dustin!” The freshman starts to knock, making you, Steve and Robin hush him. Tapping his shoulder you scrunch up your face and shake your head.

“Not a good idea,” You whisper.

“Look we just wanna talk, no cops, I swear. We just wanna help,” Dustin says after knocking again. Robin points her flashlight to the left, starting to walk that way around the house.

“Robin,” You whisper, harsher than before, “Robin!” She didn’t stop. There wasn’t anyway you’d be caught lurking around Ricks at this time of night alone, so you figured you’d better follow her.

“You don’t remember anything from here?” She asks you once she feels your presence behind her.

“Uh,” You stutter, and gesture to the window on the side of the house, “I unlocked that window with a broken belt once. Eddie… tossed me inside… I helped pull him in.”

“Fun,” Robin pops her brows and blinks a few times. You both hear Steve hush Dustin at the door again who started to shout names, still obnoxiously ringing the doorbell.

Looking into one of the windows that Robin pointed her flashlight into you spotted the living room and the couch you spent nights on. The kitchen looked like it was a mess, but it always was. Beer bottles were thrown wherever they pleased, and butts of cigarettes laid around everywhere.  You’re also sure you saw a carton of milk open on the table. There wasn’t a suspicious thing about his place, but you’re sure half of this group would think otherwise.

Behind you and Robin, Max wanders to the side of the house, shining her flashlight to whatever laid beyond it. Her brows were furrowed above her eyes.

“Hey, guys?” She shouts, getting you all to hurry to her side. When the shed behind the house came into view, you audibly gasped. Pushing past Max’s shoulder, you’re bounding for the door until feet rush up to you and a hand grips your shoulder. Thinking it’s Harrington, you spin around with a nasty glare in your eye only to find Max.

“What are you doing?” She whispers, and your gaze softens.

“Going to get him,” Your tone is a bit harsh at a whisper, but you couldn’t help it. There was a high change that Eddie was in that shed, and you needed to see him. You needed to wrap your arms around him, you needed him to kiss you and tell you that everything was going to be alright. If anything, he needed that from you, too. You weren’t going to waste anymore time standing around with a group of goody-two-shoes when he was right in arms reach.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go first,” Max keeps her voice low, “Just in case.”

“In case of what?” You sigh heavily, bouncing on your toes.

“Shock? Grief? I dunno, I just feel like you should wait here,” She was pleading with you, “We don’t know what’s in there, and… knowing what we’ve seen in the past… It’ll be better if it’s one of us.” Sliding her hand off of you, she nods her head and you slowly join her.

“Okay,” You take a few steps back, “Come get me when you deem it’s safe enough.” You flitted your voice in a silly, spooky pattern to make her smile, and it’s successful.

Wandering around the metal walls for a couple of minutes, the group shines their lights into the windows, scoping it out before Robin pushes the door open with a polite, “Hello?” She jokes to lighten the mood, something you noticed she does, but she gets no answer. Outside the air has gotten a lot cooler than it was when the sun was up. Pulling your jacket around you tighter, you curse yourself for not picking better pajama pants last night. You spin around in a little circle, taking in Rick's property. It was a cute place, and definitely somewhere Eddie would come to hide. 

The house was like a cabin, and those were always cozy to you. All the memories that were made here at Ricks were happy ones. You hoped that this one would be too.

With the crickets and nighttime creatures prowling, you can hear the voices of your acquaintances coming out of the open shed door. You figured, another day with them and you’d consider them friends. Max and Robin? Definitely. Dustin? Getting there. Harrington? Questionable, in more ways than one.

You debated sitting down on the grass, but nighttime dew was already setting in so you remained on your feet. Looking out onto the lake, you take a long deep breath and appreciate the crisp night air. This was the best time in Hawkins. Nothing compared. You think about Eddie and that one day when all of this blows over, and you’ve graduated, and life is good, you two can come out here. Hell, maybe you move out here instead of out of Indiana completely. 

A deep scream rips through the air, then coming from the shed, multiple voices shouting.

“Eddie! Eddie! It’s me!” You hear Dustin shouting, sending your feet running for that door so fast you’re sure you’ve kicked up the dirt, “This is Steve! He’s not gonna hurt you, right Steve?” Pushing it open with two hands, you land behind Robin, grabbing her shoulders to bring you to a stop. Looking past Dustin, Steve is pinned to the wall with a broken beer bottle pressed to his neck held by a hand that glimmered when the light hit it.

“Eddie,” You say just above a whisper, and his head snaps around, still holding onto Steve with a mother of a grip. He exhales, like he’d been holding it in for days. “Eddie, let him go,” You say calmly, though your legs were like jelly. He was out of his mind, something wasn’t right. Weaving your way around the kids, you step up onto the wooden platform the boys were on, and you hold out a hand.

“Come here,” You nod, tears stinging your eyes the closer you get to him and his pain stricken eyes, “Baby, come here,” He drops the bottle, startling Steve, “Mhm, now let him go, he’s nice.” Eddie’s eyes were stuck on yours. He released Steve from his grasp, Harrington fleeing to behind Dustin, and instead of reaching for your outstretched hands, Eddie stumbled toward the corner and slid down on his back.

Putting your hands behind your back feeling silly, you shuffle sideways to where he wandered and squat down. Eddie jumps at your abrupt movement, holding up his hands in defense. His bottom lip trembles. He’s looking at you through the top of his eyes with his chin tucked low.

“Did somebody hurt you?” You speak gently, keeping your cool- it’s harder than you thought. Eddie vaguely shakes his head, his eyes focusing on the ground. “Have you been here since last night?” He doesn’t answer. “Eddie, hey, we want to talk.” Nothing. Leaning forward a bit, you whisper to him, “Give me something, Princess, I’m having a conversation with myself here,” And it gets him to look at you with a little more Eddie in his eyes. You fight past the tears and smile, opening your hand for him again.

“Let me help you,” You encourage, then tilt your head back to gesture to the group, “Let them help you, they’re the ones who got me here.” Eddie’s eyes flicker to the others, Dustin looking at him with the same hope as you. They meet eyes and Dustin gives him a small wave.

“I’ve been so worried about you, all day,” You say, glancing down to your open palm, “I thought… thought whatever monster took her took you, too.” Eddie shivers, then takes your hand gently.

“You’re… You’re not gonna believe me,” He shudders, sucking in a breath. Robin, Steve, Dustin and Max scoot closer.

“Try us,” Max simply shrugs. Looking from the group, to Max, to you, Eddie sniffles and nods once.

“Hang on,” He whispers, and grips your hand tighter, pulling you into his body where he throws his arms around your back. Slipping yours over his shoulders, you let that wall break and the tears come spilling out. One of his strong hands draws a circle on your back, and you swear you feel him holding back his own tears. Leaning his head backward, he rests his forehead on yours to look at you and he’s flooded with the feeling of safety. 

Eddie was already an imperfect soul, but after today he seemed broken in more ways than one. You bring your hands to the sides of his face, slipping them into his hair, and you press a kiss to his lips that he sinks right into.

“It’s gonna be okay,” You whisper to him when you pull away. He uses his thumbs to wipe underneath your lashes. “We’ll be okay.”

“Eddie,” Dustin says softly, getting him to look his way, “You need to tell us what actually happened.” Eddie’s eyes meet yours again and he finally cracks the tiniest of smiles.

“Stay right here,” He whispers. 

Comfortably sitting with Eddie on the floor of the shed, between his legs with his arms draped around your body, you listen with the others as he tells the story of what happened last night. With the coaxing of your soft hands on his he made it through, but still threw away the ending, telling you all you won’t believe him. With tears falling for Chrissy, you lift one of his hands and brush your lips over his knuckles.

“You know how people say Hawkins is… cursed?” Dustin asks, “They’re not… way off.” And that’s when you get your explanation of what the group had been discussing all day. You learn about the Upside Down.

[xandertheundead]

Jealous Mike for Stanlon? I never see jealous Mike!

Sure thing, Anon! Here you go!

Mike had never really been the jealous type. 

Sure, when he was little and he’d seen other kids have something that he wished he could have he felt a small pang, but nothing as ugly as jealousy.

Nothing he truly cared about was ever in a situation where he felt those bitter ugly feelings well up in him. His dog, his parents, his grandfather even his favorite BB gun his dad had gotten him when he was little, he’d never had to worry about someone else having them because they were Mike’s and everyone knew that.

Stanley Uris however, wasn’t his and he wished more than ever that the boy was.

That’s why when he saw Stacy Briggs talking to Stan in the hall he felt something painful and awful rise up in his chest.

Bev had heard that Stacy Briggs wanted to ask Stan to the homecoming dance and Mike watched as she laughed and tucked her hair behind her ear. She wasn’t being very subtle and Mike had to stop himself from rolling his eyes when she reached out to gently push at his arm.

When Stan laughed at something she said Mike couldn’t help it, he let the word slip out from his mouth before he could even think about it.

“Bitch.”

“Who’s a bitch?”

Mike jumped when Richie slung an arm around his shoulder, moving his head around to see who Mike could be talking about. Immediately Mike felt shame rise up, his cheeks going red as he quickly shook his head at Richie’s question. He was being rude and unfair, all Stacy did was like the same guy he did and that wasn’t a reason to call her that.

“No one, Richie.” Mike said with a sigh and he could tell Richie didn’t buy it, but luckily he didn’t ask anymore questions.

“So, you ready to ask Stan-the-Man to homecoming?”

Mike gulped, watching the way Stacy moved a little closer to Stan, suddenly the tickets to the bird exhibit were burning a hole in his pocket. He had invited Stan to the bird exhibit, saying no one else wanted to go with him and Stan had quickly agreed to go with him, never even questioned why Mike bought two tickets before knowing how many people were going. The losers had helped paint the sign, it was now folded up neatly and carefully in his backpack and Mike took took a deep breath as Stan glanced to the side from his conversation with Stacy.

Their eyes met and the smile that moved over Stan’s face made Mike’s legs feel weak.

They both watched as Stan turned to Stacy and said something, her smile dimming a little when he said something but she nodded and waved as he started jogging towards them.

“Hey guys.” He said a little breathless and Mike just wanted to hug him. “Mike I just have to get my chemistry textbook from my locker and we can head out.”

“Uh, yeah. Hello!” Richie called before Mike could respond. “What am I chopped liver?”

Stan rolled his eyes, but his mood didn’t seem to sour in the slightest. “Yeah. Hi, Richie.”

“That’s more like it.” Richie replied, removing his arm from Mike’s shoulder a tossing them a wave. “Alright. You nerds go and enjoy your bird date, I’m going to find my sexy Spaghetti.”

“It’s not a date!” Both Stan and Mike sputtered, and they both looked at each other with their cheeks red.

“So,” Mike started and jerked his head in the direction of the stairs. “Should we go get that text book?”

Soon they were in Mike’s truck, he had meticulously cleaned and vacuumed it out the night before, and headed for the zoo. Stan even commented on the little air freshener Mike had gone out to buy specifically for the trip. Fresh lemon in the shape of a small bluebird that could clip to his air conditioning and Stan loved it which made Mike beam with pride.

When they had parked, got in to the zoo and found the exhibit, Mike’s palms were starting to sweat. As they waiting in line for their ticket to be checked he started wondering if maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. It would put Stan on the spot in front of others and what if he really didn’t want to go with Mike like that, 

This was a bad idea. A huge mistake.

They made their way into the area where hundreds of parakeets flew around freely and the way Stan looked as the flew over him was just amazing. He pointed to every different color parakeet he saw, telling Mike why their colors differed and when Mike bought two long popsicle sticks covered in bird seed he thought Stan’s mind was about to explode when a small yellow parakeet landed on his arm to take a nibble.

“This is amazing.” Stan whispered, watching as the bird hopped to his hand so it could start to eat the birdseed on the stick. “Seriously, Mike. Thank you for asking me to come.”

“O-of course.” Mike choked out and they both watched as the bird finished it’s meal and flew back into the branches. “Um, so Stan I wanted to ask you something.”

“Wait.” Stan said suddenly, looking up at him suddenly so serious. “I have to ask you something first.”

“Okay?”

Stan licked his lips, glancing down at the floor before taking a big breath in and letting it out slowly. “So, you probably heard the rumors about Stacy and homecoming.”

Mike’s gut twisted and he started to feel chilled. “Uh, yeah I did.”

“Right.” Stan nodded and then grimaced. “So, I’m sorry if this makes me look like an absolute bastard but you kind of already knew I was one.”

Oh god. Did Stan know? Was Stan rejecting him before Mike could even ask? 

Mike hated that he felt like he was about to cry and when Stan took Mike’s hand in his Mike could feel his eyes start to sting.

“Mike, will you go to homecoming with me?”

Mike blinked. His world came to a screeching halt as his brain had to restart and rewind because he had missed something very important.

“Wait...what?” Mike replied quietly, then started to gain his voice back ashe let his thoughts tumble from his mouth.. “I’m confused. Why are you a bastard for asking me? Why are you asking me and talking about the rumor with Stacy? Did Stacy ask you already? I heard she wasn’t going to ask till Friday.”

Then Stan looked confused as well and he dropped Mike’s hand to gold his arms over his chest, a look that was seriously hot but Mike couldn’t enjoy it right now. He had things to figure out.

“Why would Stacy ask me when she is planning to ask you?”

Mike had no idea why but he suddenly burst out laughing. “What?! Why would she ask me? Bev told me she wanted to ask you.”

Stan shook his head quickly. “Why would she? We only have one class together, you're the varsity football Quarterback and she's the head cheerleader.”

“S-so?!”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Mike, anybody would be nuts not to want to be with you. You’re on the football team, you have amazing grades, you sweet as fuck and you look like some GQ model.”

“What’s GQ?”

Stan waved his hand in the air like he was trying to wave Mike’s question away. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is I’m being a fucking asshole and sniping you from her before she has a chance even though she just trusted me not to tell you when she asked what your favorite cookies were.”

Mike stared wide eyed at Stan quietly, Stan’s face becoming red as a tomato when he realized something and had to look away. “I mean...if you want because...I’d really like to go with you. I really like you.”

Mike couldn’t stop the large grin from spreading on his face and instead of answering, he moved to set his backpack on the ground and opened it up. Carefully he pulled out the hand painted poster, handing it over to Stan, smiling as he unfolded it and read it.

Stan’s face was priceless and he looked up at Mike in shock before it slowly started to turn into a smile.

“You were going to ask me?”

“Yep.”

“So I just betrayed a nice girl when you were going to ask me anyway.”

Mike gave a small shrug. “If it makes you feel any better, I called her a bitch when I saw she made you laugh.”

Stan then started to laugh and Mike couldn’t help it anymore, he pulled Stan to him and held him tightly, happy when Stan held him back.

“Yes,” Mike whispered into the dark brown curls. “I’ll go with you.”

“And I you, Mike.”

Send Me A Prompt!

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[preface2adreamplay]

Under Your Spell (Part 5) - A Heat You’ve Never Known

Summary: A Jared Padalecki/OFC fiction.

Stef is a musician, recently gone solo. Happy with her life as a forever single person until Jared makes it his mission to get close to her. (For the purpose of this fiction, I have liberated some lyrics from various artists and their videos. This is fiction, with real people mentioned.)

Chapter warnings: Flirting, swearing

Chapter WC: 2,725

Series Masterlist

Claire: 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

Stef: Glad you enjoyed yourself.

Claire: I’m having coffee, wanna join? Must gossip.

Stef: Nah, gotta get rid of the moose.

Claire: WTF?

Stef: Jared stayed in the spare room. I think he’s still sleeping.

Claire: We definitely need to talk. 😉

Stef: I’ll call you later

Stef was sitting on the sofa, feet tucked under a blanket sipping coffee. She had spent a few minutes in front of the mirror fixing her hair, moving it this way and that in an attempt to make it look ‘effortless.’

Shrugging, she gave up and made a pot of coffee, hoping the smell would rouse Jared so she wouldn’t have to go knocking at the door.

Just as she sent the last text to Claire, she heard movement upstairs. The bathroom door closed. Silence again.

Brendan raised his head from the armchair he was snoozing on and deciding it was nothing interesting, curled up again.

‘Good morning,’ Jared rumbled coming down the stairs, fully dressed, looking like an angel fallen from heaven, scratching his tummy as he gave her a lop sided smile.

‘Coffee in the kitchen.’ She sang, unusually chipper.

‘Are you always this good a morning person?’ He sat next to her on the sofa, coffee in hand.

‘Well, no. Not usually. But it has been a long time since I had company in the morning so I suppose that has made a difference. Did you sleep ok?’

‘Yeah, I did, I was out like a light.’ Throwing an arm along the back of the sofa, his hand brushed against her hair, giving a strand a playful tug.

His phone rang. With a grumble he removed himself from the sofa and walked towards the kitchen. Stef could hear him speaking low to someone, his tone changing when she heard the sound of a child yelling. ‘Hey, buddy, can you do what your mom says? Please? Yeah I’ll be home soon, before you know it.’

Stef felt uneasy, like worms were squirming inside of her stomach. She hated that he made her feel like this, a little jealous of his family. 

You know him nearly a week, stop being such a crazy bitch! Stef told herself, lifting her phone to text Claire again.

I can meet you at yours later, I need wine and girl chats.

Jared walked silently back into the room, ‘Sorry about that. My kids are wild today,’ He ran a hand through is hair, grimacing.

‘I feel your pain. Wait til they are teenagers, then the fun starts.’

Jared put his head into his hands, ‘No, Stef. What have I DONE?’

Having regaled him with a few stories of Darius in his teens, Jared finally decided that he needed to get going. His flight home was leaving that night and he hadn’t packed yet.

Leaning against the door, waiting for the Uber to find the house he searched for something to say that would be a meaningful goodbye.

Stef sat on the bottom stair, wrapped up in an oversized hoodie looking cute as hell. He wanted to reach over and pull her into a bear hug. All he could do was sigh.

‘This week has been amazing, from not knowing you at all to this.’ He shook his head, strands of hair falling into his eyes. ‘It’s just…’

‘It feels like we have known each other years rather than days?’ She finished for him.

‘Yeah, something like that. You better keep in touch though.’

The car pulled up outside and honked impatiently. ‘Oh shit,’ Jared laughed, reaching over with one arm to pull her into a gentle hug. He took the opportunity to smell her hair.  Coconuts. Mmmm.

‘Jared?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Are you smelling me?’

‘Yeah, I am. Just let us have this moment.’

She felt the rumble of laughter in his chest but didn’t let him go as she usually would have, hugs shouldn’t last this long, this was an embrace and the heat radiating from him filled her to the brim, she hugged him tighter.

Another impatient honk brought them to their senses.

‘You just let me know when you get home safe.’ Stef waved as he made his way down the path. He turned and nodded, lifting his hand in goodbye.

When the car disappeared, she felt heavy hearted.

Claire had text back, agreeing to their girly date. Stef decided to have a long, very hot bath and not think about men or music or the ache in her legs from dancing.

***

‘Tell me everything.’ Claire coaxed, filling the wine glasses with an absurdly large measure.

‘No, you first. Since my night wasn’t half as interesting as yours, I’m guessing.’

Claire talked non stop for a twenty minutes about Richard and how good a kisser he was. They didn’t go all the way, but he said he would call and arrange a date. Which was unusual for Claire, who didn’t date.

This whole situation was unusual for both of them. Claire would get excited about a man, sleep with him and move on.

Stef didn’t date at all. She was happy being single. Sure, men came in and out of her life but she never gave much effort in it. It wasn’t a priority. So why was she glancing at her phone every few minutes, like a love sick teenager, hoping the boy will text her??

‘You gotta tell me about your night, he went home with you?’ Claire waggled her eyebrows at her friend.

‘Not for sex, Claire. He wanted to make sure I got home ok. Then he ended up staying. It was late,’ she playfully nudged Claire’s arm, ‘There was absolutely no funny business.’

‘Only you could call it funny business and not come across as a prude. I KNOW what you like in the bedroom.’

Stef scoffed, feigning surprise. ‘Oh, do you?’

‘Because I suggested half of the shit you do.’

They fell into a fit of giggles. For the rest of the night they drank wine and made fun the cheap horror movies they were so obsessed with. Eventually falling asleep together on the sofa.

Stef woke with a groan. ‘Don’t drink three nights in a row,’ she said to the sleeping figure of her friend.

Her phone was ringing.

‘Oscar.’ She croaked.

‘Oh dear, not again.’ He laughed. ‘Were you up to no good last night Ms. James?’

Stef scoffed, ‘Actually, no. Or maybe I was. I’m with Claire. We passed out on the sofa.’ Moving into the back yard, she pulled the door closed behind her. It was hot, even with it being early, the birds were chirping, a little too loudly she thought.

‘Well then yes you were up to no good.’

‘I was out with Claire two nights in a row.’

‘For shame, Effie, for shame!’

Stef laughed. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?’

Oscar cleared his throat, ‘Hold on a sec.’ There was a female voice in the background.

Stef raised her eyebrows, her lips curling into a half smile.

‘Who’s that?’ she asked, hearing Oscar moving back to the mouthpiece.

‘Someone I work with.’

‘Suuuuuure,’ Stef drew out, she had missed teasing him, it had been a while since they had been together face to face.

‘Hey, I’m looking forward to the weekend. You sticking around after the party?’

‘Of course, why wouldn’t I?’

‘Just in case you and mystery lady want to head off to a rodeo.’

‘Oh fuck off, Effie. And hey, I was worried about you, that’s why I called.’

‘Why were you worried about me?’

‘Well, I did send you a few messages, the first you ignored and the second you didn’t even look at.’

‘Oops.’ Was all Stef could say. ‘I didn’t mean to ignore you, I’ve just been busy. Socialising.’

‘I’m happy you’re getting out more. You need to loosen up a bit. You’re getting antsy. And angsty. It’s not good for you to cut yourself off from everyone.’

Stef scowled, she knew he was right but didn’t want to let him know he was right.

‘I gotta go. Thanks for the call. We still ok for Friday? My flight comes in at 8pm.’

‘I’ll be there.’ He assured her before ending the call.

Stef took a long breath and closed her eyes. She was shaking. Either from the hangover or the thoughts of Oscar worrying about her. He did that. Only he could see when she was slipping and always, always, he pulled her back from the depths. Always him. No one else.

After twenty two years, he was still there supporting her, always her cheerleader. It made her sad that she couldn’t move past their trouble, she wouldn’t forgive herself if she forgave him, that was part of the problem. Could she ever trust him again? It was a question she asked herself often, every time they got a little closer, she would pull back and he would feel it and be hurt by it. And the cycle started again. And she didn’t know how to break it.

Frustrated now as well as hungover, Stef huffed and dragged her hair back out of her face, holding it back a little tighter than she should but the sting of it was easing the tension. 

It was there that Claire found her, sitting on the porch steps in the sunshine, breathing softly, eyes closed.

‘You good, girl?’

Claire looked worse than Stef felt. Her make up was a mess.

‘You look terrible.’

‘Well, so do you, bitch.’

Hours later, as Stef sat with her guitar in her lap, plucking the strings, the chords not coming together. But she kept at it. It was therapy for her. She needed to get this song out of her and move on.

Her phone dinged.

Jared: I got home ok. Hope you’re good.

It wasn’t as warm a text as she had hoped for. But, you can never really read someones tone from a text.

Just as she was putting the phone down, another text came through.

Don’t say hi to Brendan. 👀👎🏻

Stef spluttered. ‘Damn, he hates you buddy.’

Brendan didn’t bother lifting his head.

Happy you got home ok. Brendan says he will work on his issues.

She wished she could have him sitting across from her while she strummed the tune she had written purely because of him.

It was catchy, so far she was proud of it. Definitely going on the next album. She placed a star beside the title in her notepad.

Opening the recording feature on her laptop, she sang the opening verse and chorus, with the bare minimum of guitar behind it. It would do. That way she wouldn’t forget how she wanted it to sound.

Jared: I’m open to a reconciliation. 

Taking the opportunity to be a little spontaneous. Stef opened the front camera on her phone, grabbing Brendan and snapping a picture before he could react.

The selfie turned out great, she was smiling, he looked surprised.

Sent.

A moment later a picture came through, taking a little too long to download.

A close up shot of Jared, wearing his beanie (of course) his hand cupping his chin, smiling into the camera.

Her stomach did a flip. ‘Why is he so beautiful?’

Brendan, annoyed at having been manhandled, made his way out of the room.

’Tell me why, Brendan? Why is this my life?’

Her phone rang. ‘Oh,’ was all she could say, seeing the video call option popping up on screen.

Panic answering, she had no time to fix herself.

‘You scared him, he’s run away.’ Stef rambled.

Jared was in the same position as his selfie, smiling into the camera.

‘Never mind that guy. How are you?’

Stef flicked her hair over her shoulder, pulling at her shirt nervously.

‘Writing.’  

‘Is that a state of being for you?’ His eyes crinkling as she smile grew wider.

Stef mirrored Jared by leaning her chin into her hand.

‘My apologies, I am well. Tired, having spent an evening with Claire again. And you?’

‘Two nights in a row, you party animal. My family have gone to bed. I’m sitting here alone missing my new friend.’

Stef felt herself blush and felt the heat ignite in her belly at the way he was looking at her.

‘Cute pictures of you two from the party by the way,’ he was leaning back on the sofa now, laying flat and getting comfortable.

‘Oh god, what pictures?’ Mild panic taking over.

‘You were tagged on instagram. Looks like some bathroom selfies,’ he chuckled watching her cover her face and groan.

’That girl is going to put up the wrong picture of these days and get me into trouble. Hey wait, how did you know I was tagged in a photo. I didn’t even get a notification.’

‘It came up about two seconds before I called you. And I follow you on instagram, have done for a while actually.’

Stef bit her lip, realising she hadn’t actually followed him, just stalked his page a few days back.

‘Hey, I gotta ask, does your wife mind you calling me like this?’

The smile fell from his face a little. ‘Probably, I have told her we became friends after the video shoot. I know she’d like you, we’re just, uh, going through a bad time right now. Nothing that we can’t fix though,’ he added, seeing concern on her face.

‘It’s all good. We’ll get you down here for a Texas barbecue and you can hang with us and Jensen and his family. It’ll be fun. And your son too. I’d love to meet him. Is he like you or his dad?’

The awkwardness was gone from the conversation now as he saw her face light up at the mention of Darius.

‘He is like his dad, dark and handsome. Quite a bit taller though, nearly six foot. Not nearly as tall as you though.’

‘No one is, don’t worry.’ Jared teased.

‘Personality wise, he is like me. He’s reserved, not a bit interested in the fame his father has.’

Jared raised his eyebrows, ‘So, baby daddy is famous?’

Stef considered the fact that Jared didn’t know her all that well, ‘Yeah. We keep our private lives private. We didn’t want Dar growing up with a public life. We didn’t think it was fair to him. But, he’s a man now, he can decide whether or not he wants to go to events with his dad.’

The temptation was too much, Jared had to ask. ‘So, who is baby daddy? Anyone I know?’

Stef giggled, ‘Actually you probably do know him, Oscar Isaac.’

‘Whaaaaat? Oh man, you know I love Star Wars!’ He gushed.

Stef fell into a fit of giggles, ’Oh shit, I gotta tell him Jared Padalecki is fangirling over him.’

‘Well, this is amazing, my new best girl’s baby daddy is Poe Dameron!’

Stef stuttered ‘uh, ok your ‘new best girl’s’ baby daddy is not a fictional character from Star Wars.’

‘Oh come on! I already knew you were cool. I just like you twenty thousand times more now.’

The conversation continued in that manner, both giggling at each other until Stef said she had to get to bed. A proper nights sleep was high on her list.

Before hanging up, Jared held up a hand to get her full attention. ‘Just promise me, you will call me during the week and play that new song for me.’

’A private viewing?’ Stef said, stroking the neck of her guitar.

The look on his face had a rush of heat pool in her core. Inwardly, she groaned as he winked, ‘I am up for any kind of show you want to give me.’

He bit his lip straight after. Stef opened her mouth in pretend shock. ‘It would just be me,’ she lowered her voice. Jared cocked an eyebrow at her.

‘Poe Dameron doesn’t do cam shows.’

Jared groaned loudly, covering his face with his hand.

He went to bed that night and lay awake staring at the ceiling, thoughts of Stef wouldn’t leave him alone, the guilt he felt was immense. He wanted her, there was no question. Did she want him?

Reaching over, he touched his wife's shoulder, finding she was easily roused. She couldn’t sleep either.

‘Baby, we gotta talk.’

CHAPTER SIX

[wereallydobevibing]

Leave Your Lover — Peter Parker x Reader

Song Imagine (Requested)

Song: Leave Your Lover - Sam Smith

Warnings - cursing

I don't have much to give, but I don't care for gold,

What use is money, when you need someone to hold?

Don't have direction, I'm just rolling down this road,

Waiting for you to bring me in from out the cold.

You and Peter were still young, he understood that much. He knew he still had so much time to make you his before it was too late, but watching you walk hand in hand down the rowdy high school corridor with that stuck up, rich boy garbage was heartbreaking. That wasn't to say you were a gold digger—you sure as hell weren't. It wasn't Zafer Mulak's money that had caught your attention—it was the fact that he was the first person to ever make a move on you. Peter hated himself for being so damn shy.

The two of you had known each other since you were in diapers, and while he didn't have much money to spend on you, he could give you the treatment you were so well deserving of and his unconditional love. Without you, he felt lost, and that lost puppy feeling he felt grew stronger each time he watched that shit excuse for a boyfriend steal your attention from him.

"She definately likes you, Peter." Ned mumbled sympathetically, "But you guys have been friends for so long that she probably doesn't even know it."

You'll never know the endless nights, the rhyming of the rain

Or how it feels to fall behind and watch you call his name

It was wrong—Peter knew that. But the both of you hadn't hung out since the stupid jock had made you his girlfriend, and Peter so desperately wanted alone time with you that he'd built up the courage to ask you anyway.

You'd been standing at your locker, dressed in that short-skirted cheerleading uniform as you straightened out the bow in your hair. As usual, you're makeup was done extremely natural—a touch of lip gloss and mascara, a little bit if concealer blocking out your purple bags that came from the late night studying you committed to. Nonetheless, you were breathtakingly beautiful, and Peter could never wrap his mind around how much you'd changed since the both of you were little.

"Hey, (Y/N)!" Peter's smile brightening as you're own smile grew upon his arrival.

"Hey, Peter! Are you going to the football game tonight?" You chirped, shutting you're locker as you looked up at your best friend.

If that means having an excuse to look at you, of course I'll be there. Peter thought, but as he was too shy to vocalize his thoughts, he only nodded with a goofy smile plastering his face. "I was wondering if you wanted to hang out after the game tonight? Aunt May was wondering when she'd see you agai—"

"Hey, baby."

Damnit, Peter cursed.

Zafer walked up, completely ignoring Peter's presence and placing a selfishly forceful kiss on your lips; and that was the cause of Peter's anger swelling hotly in his chest. The damn guy was only doing this to piss him off—Peter knew Zafer only kissed you like that when he was watching: you deserved this sweet affection at all times, not only when the walking trash can wanted to get on someone's nerves.

"Zafer!" You giggled cutely, "Stop!"

Pack up and leave everything,

Don't you see what I can bring?

Can't keep this beating heart at bay,

"You alright, kid?" Tony asked, twirling a screwdriver in his hands as he momentarily glanced up at the younger boy sitting before him. Peter hadn't realized it, but he'd zoned out again—daydreaming about the day that you and Zafer wod finally call it off and he would be the one to comfort you.

"Yeah, all good." Peter mumbled absentmindedly.

"Girl troubles?" Tony smirked.

"W-What?" Peter blushed, "I . . . I don't-"

"Oh, come on, kid, I know the look." Tony set down the screwdriver, looking Peter directly in the eyes. "So, what is it? Rock-bottom-friend zone or admire-her-from-across-the-room zone?"

Peter sighed, leaning back in his chair glumly, "More like . . . Waiting-for-her-to-break-up-with-her-boyfriend zone."

"Ah, gotcha." Tony nodded.

Set my midnight sorrow free,

I will give you all of me,

Peter groaned, another sleepless night thinking about you.

And he'd done everything in his power to distract himself—study, homework, Netflix, swing around the buildings of New York in his spider suit for a couple hours, and for the most part, it'd almost worked. But when the clock had stricken 3:30AM, his phone had gone off. Peter shifted from under his covers to check who it was from, thinking that, most likely, it would be Ned. But he was frozen in place when he saw that the text was from you.

(Y/N): you up?

Peter: yeah, you okay?

(Y/N): no

(Y/N): zafer just broke up with me

Peter froze once again, struggling to contain himself, which he felt guilty about. You, his first love and best friend, were hurt over some shit faced asshole who didn't deserve you whatsoever. And while the stinging pain in his chest was finally relieved, it was replaced by sudden anger as you explained to him that Zafer, that bitch, had been screwing one of the girls on your cheer team behind your back. How could anyone do that to you?

Peter: i can swing by if you want?

(Y/N): yes please

(Y/N): bring your spider butt over here

Peter: say no more

Just leave your lover, leave him for me

Leave your lover, leave him for me

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Wan High Weeping (Part 18)

About a week since she had brought TyLee over and her mother was still refusing to talk to her. “You decided to leave your brother home all. Alone. To talk to your friend!” The dramatic way she had tossed her hands into the air did little to ease the tension. “I know you don’t think far beyond yourself, young lady, but this is unacceptable. You knew how important that dinner was to your father. We were almost late because of you. We ended up having to leave Tom-Tom…” Mai ended up tuning her out entirely from there. The woman had been lecturing her on selfishness and in that same spiel, admitted her own self-interest. If Tom-Tom’s well-being had matter that much, they would have skipped the dinner.

But no. Because they were the parents and she was the daughter, the blame lie with her. And TyLee hasn’t talked to her since. She couldn’t blame TyLee. Her mother had the audacity to phone TyLee’s parents and so the girl was also in trouble.

And that was her fault too.

 She had put all of her soul into not taking things out on Tom-Tom, but the more her mom spoke and chastised. The more Mai wished that the boy had never been born at all. She was a burden to her parents and Tom-Tom was a burden to her.

And he was still a burden because Mai had to watch him after school that day. She had to watch him the day after that as well and, for her crime, she wasn’t allowed company either. She was barred from Chan’s Halloween party too. This particularly vexed her; Halloween was the one time of the year she actually rather enjoyed. It was prime shopping season for her wardrobe, and she hadn’t even had the chance to do so once that season.

 She was beginning to think she should just stop trying to enjoy things at all. The less she liked, the less there was to lose. Halloween was a children’s holiday anyways. And it wasn’t the same now that she TyLee and Azula didn’t dress up together. Just to torture herself a little more, she opened her phone and browsed old pictures. The first was very, very old; her first Halloween with the two girls. She had been a ladybug, TyLee was a bee, and Azula was a praying mantis of all things. They each held their little pumpkin buckets staring at the camera with cubby baby faces and the kind of adorably wide smiles that only children could muster. She swiped a few times to something more recent. The Halloween party from two years ago; TyLee was a zombie cheerleader, flashing a peace sign at the camera, somehow managing to hold her pom poms at the same time. Azula’s costume was handcrafted and model after her zodiac sign; complete with full body paint and dashes of glitter and a pair of elaborate wings. She had gone all out that year and won the costume competition. Zuko was in this one too; his was also handmade—he had gone the vampire route but with a steampunk twist. And Mai. She was just Mai. Blah, Mai, with a generic vampire costume. Granted it suited her style well but she wished that she had the ambition to create something original.

It would seem that she wouldn’t be getting her chance.

 She swiped again. God, they were so happy. There was always a touch of pain in Zuko’s eyes but at least he was there. And at least he was having a good time for the moment. Another swipe and she had to hold back tears, she wondered where it had gone wrong. How she had let both Azula and TyLee distance themselves.

Indeed, that was somehow her fault too.

 .oOo.

 Toph didn’t like the look of the place at all—not that she could see it very well through swollen, stinging eyes. But her condition was getting worse and her parents were getting desperate. And so she found herself in the waiting room of the shadiest looking eye doctor she had ever not heard of. She holds her focused on her phone as hard as possible and found the voice command button. Not bothering to keep her voice low she said, “Twinkle Toes, ya gotta help me, this is sketchier than Zhao telling us that our math tests only ask questions about what we learned in class.”

 Lao hushed her. “You have to keep your voice down, this man is going to help fix your eyes and then you’ll be able to get back to school and soccer. And he’s doing it for a deal!”

 “But he won’t help us if you keep saying things like that, dear.” Poppy added.

 Toph folded her arms over her chest. “Stop calling me that!” She grumbled. She had a feeling that this doctor dude would see her regardless of her words, he just wanted to make a quick buck and she didn’t want to be his lab rat.

 “Doctor Warui Kōkei, will see you now.”

 “To bad I won’t see him.” Toph huffed. She had earned herself more hushing from both parents.

 But the nurse chuckled, “well hopefully we can fix that, yes?”

 The nurse seemed nice enough, but Toph was still skeptical. Maybe it was the crumbling and faded wallpaper or maybe it was the scuffed and creaking floorboards. It could have been the crying child or the broken clock. Whatever it was, Toph had the most foreboding feeling.

Not that her parents would take that opinion into account.

 .oOo.

 “Have you heard anything about BeiFong?” Mai asked Smellerbee. It had been a bitch to track the girl down in the after school rush, so she better have an answer.

 “What do you care for?” The girl returned with a question of her own. “I have a bus to catch.”

 “And I have a question that needs an answer. BeiFong is on your soccer team, have you heard any news.”

 Smellerbee rolled her eyes. “Sure. Her parents are taking her to some eye doctor no one has ever heard of. If he does then I won’t have to worry about her taking my place as team captain.”

 “I’m sure you will.” Mai stated plainly. She sure hoped that the surgery, or whatever the treatment was, would go well. She watched Smellerbee stop towards her bus, leaving her to wonder if literally everyone attending Wan High—save for Aang—were in endless states of sour moods.

 She knew that she was and that it was about to get worse.

 Years ago, Tom-Tom running up to her screaming, “Maaaaaaai!” And then jumping into a hug would have turned her day around. That day each syllable was a crescendo off annoyance and his body colliding with hers, was a detonator. It was a silent explosion, but an explosion no less. “Get off, Tom, I’ve got homework to do. Sit down and watch TV or something.”

 He looked at her with innocent eyes, “I’m hungry though, Mai. Really, really hungry. We can go to the kitchen and play animal crackers!”

 It was almost enough to break the resentment. Almost. But this time she wanted to hold onto and relish in her anger, even if she would only keep it within. On the outside she remained cold. “I don’t have time for animal crackers. Stop playing with your food and just eat it.” She found herself a seat on the sofa and watched him teeter off towards the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

 She pulled out her phone, Azula’s number still remained in her contacts and for a moment she considered giving it a call. But she recalled the girl saying that she had other goth girls to talk to, the though left her bitter so she scrapped that idea, swapping it out for a worse one.

 She dialed Zuko’s phone.

Again her message went to voice mail and she was furious. Of all the times he had called her during his slumps…she had always picked up, even if it was to yell and argue. And now he had the audacity to ignore her completely? She really had been nothing more than a person to weep to after his father whopped his druggy ass a good one.

 She very nearly threw the phone, when a text appeared on her screen.

She dared to hope that it was TyLee or Zuko. Instead an ugly message scrawled itself across the screen, with an even uglier photo.  It took a lot to invoke a physical response, but the phone fell from her hands which came to cover her mouth. The phone fell face up so a glance down could send chills down her spine all over again.

 It was bloody, the image. She couldn’t tell exactly what had happened to Toph’s eyes, but they were bleeding. And she was screaming, her face twisted and contorted in pain. Her hands seemed to claw at her seat as her mother held her close.

 She didn’t recognize the sender’s number, but the message was clear and cutting.

 “I hope you’re happy.”

[shalebridge-cradle]

Crash, Bang

(Happy Holiday Season. Are you ready to s u f f e r ?)

Veronica doesn’t remember much. A crash. A bang. Black.

She wakes to a blurry red. Heather Chandler, standing over her. She’s not surprised, at this point – Heather had proven many times that even death won’t stop her from bitching. There’s something unfamiliar in her eyes, though, Veronica notes as she scrambles to her feet (and wonders how she got on the floor in the first place).

“Look at me,” Heather commands. Veronica pulls a face – she is looking at her. Examining her is looking. Jaw clenched, lips pursed, Veronica would think that it’s anger on Chandler’s face, if she hadn’t seen anger so many times to know it isn’t.

“Your diary. Get your diary.”

Heather steps to one side, giving Veronica room to move. From her position in her closet (there’s a metaphor there, but Veronica had never been one for acting things out), she looks over her ruined room.

“What happened?” Veronica asks. Heather looks like she’s about to answer, but decides against it at the last second.

“I’ll tell you later. Your diary is on your desk still. Turn to October 12th, and I’ll explain.”

Veronica wanders over to her desk, and she can feel Chandler’s eyes following her. The diary is open, today’s entry unfinished. She can’t remember why, and it’s really starting to bug her.

“October 12th,” Heather repeats, and Veronica rolls her eyes as she turns the pages. Slowly but surely, she winds the clock back to the middle of October. What happened that day that was so important, anyway…?

Oh.

That was the day of Kurt and Ram’s funeral.

That was the entry where she revealed JD had killed three people, and that the guilt was – is – eating away at her.

This is the entry Chandler wanted to see.

Why?

“Good,” Heather hums from behind her, “it’s important for the cops to see that.”

“Cops?” there’s a pang of dread, creeping up her throat like vines.

Heather sighs, and takes Veronica’s hand.

She shouldn’t be able to do that. Shit, she hasn’t been able to do that, all of her slaps and caresses passing through Veronica with the chill of a winter wind. The fact that Heather is touching her, and the fact that she doesn’t feel ice cold against Veronica’s skin means…

It hits her. Crash. Bang.

Dead.

Veronica sinks to the floor, drained, and Heather’s voice fades into the background.

  The Westerburg gym doesn’t end up exploding.

Everyone’s out of the football field, and the reality seemingly hasn’t set in for most of the students. The cops and the bomb squad have come and gone, and Heather snarks about how they actually did their job, this time.

“How are you so calm about this?” Veronica asks. Heather scoffs.

“Nothing I can do about it. Might as well make the most of it. Simple as that.”

Veronica scans the crowd, bereft of a witty response. She sees a few familiar faces – Peter Dawson animatedly talking to Dennis from the school newspaper. Courtney looking like she’s seen a ghost (and Veronica briefly wonders if she has).

The most important thing is that Martha is there, alive. Leaning over one side of the motorized wheelchair is Heather McNamara, egged on by Betty Finn (Veronica remembers this girl, she gives good answers in the lunchtime poll), and whatever McNamara’s saying is bringing a smile to Martha’s face. Maybe they’re bonding over their suicide attempts, Veronica muses, and she hates herself for thinking it. On the other side was the ghost of Ram Sweeney, looking oddly contemplative. Veronica wouldn’t have thought him capable.

Her focus returns to herself. She feels empty. Hollow. Maybe if everyone had blown up, maybe at least she’d be overwhelmed with anguish and anger and guilt instead of this suffocating nothing.

Seemingly in response to this, Heather gently takes her hand.

“Put it this way,” it’s almost a whisper, and yet Veronica can hear her clear as day over the ocean of voices, “there’s no expectations anymore. No obligations. Five million dollars and a world that’s ending. What do you want to do?”

I want to feel.

Veronica grabs Heather Chandler by the waist and pulls her in for a kiss.

Heather kisses back.

  Veronica attends her own funeral.

There’s an unexpectedly large turnout – the pews at the front were reserved for people who actually knew Veronica, instead of just immediate family members. There are distant relatives, classmates from years past, people from around town and at least two cameramen in the back row.

Heather is scowling.

“There’s at least seventy more people here than there were at my funeral,” she grumbles, and Veronica chuckles darkly.

Father Ripper gives his speech, and Veronica has to admire his ability to turn anyone into a martyr. He speaks of guilt and absolution in the eyes of God, and how Veronica’s dedication to recording everything led police to save hundreds of lives.

He says nothing about her being an accessory to murder. It hangs in the air like a bad stench.

When the coffin is brought to the cemetery and Veronica Sawyer is put in the ground, there’s a finality to it all that breaks her. She hugs herself, trying desperately to hold herself together, to keep all her memories and quirks and her identity from falling into the grave.

Heather tries to help her, but all Veronica can do is babble about how everything’s like a dream and she’s forgotten how to breathe and I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead plays over and over in her head.

“I know,” Heather murmurs, her voice like rain on a raging fire, “I know. I know.”

There’s no point in lying to Veronica, now.

  She visits her murderer in prison.

It’s like a thread, Veronica decides. Something tying them together, tugging at her when she thinks of him, but nothing so strong that she can’t ignore it.

Jason Dean gazes up at her from the floor of his solitary confinement cell with a look of awe, not fear.

“I was fixing it,” he tells her, and even he seems a little unconvinced at the statement, “Everyone gets along in heaven. You wouldn’t have to be stuck with Queen Bitch and her lackeys for eternity if everyone’s with you.”

“You killed me.” There’s an unnatural echo to Veronica’s voice. JD shies away, just slightly.

“I was winning you over with my petition, I know it. It was such a great plan. Still, I…” he pauses, and emotion reaches his eyes for what may be the first time, “I got a little, ah, heated, and my finger was on the trigger when I opened the door. A slip of the hand.”

There’s a distinct lack of apology in the statement.

Veronica leans over him. Studying him closely for a moment.

Then, without warning, she shoves her hand through his skull, and JD yells at what Veronica is sure is a very familiar sensation.

“You had a choice, Dean,” she growls, and there’s a flash of unbridled rage in JD’s eyes at the mention of that name, “You could have been more. More than just a copy of your dad with a messiah complex. But you’ve made your decision.”

Veronica pulls away, and gives JD, the lost, lonely boy once last glance.

“Now you’re left alone with your thoughts. I hope they eat you alive.”

Veronica vanishes, and the cell melts away before her eyes, replaced by the somber greys and greens of the Sherwood Cemetery.

Heather is waiting for her.

  Heather McNamara contacts her a few months later.

Veronica never really pictured the head cheerleader as an occult nut. Then again, there’s a lot of things people didn’t know about her, Veronica muses as McNamara, Martha and Betty set up the Ouija board. And candles. Like that will help the process, somehow.

The first question is from Martha.

“Why?”

Veronica feels the cold sting of regret as Chandler scoffs from the corner of the room. There’s a lot of things that word could mean – Why did you cover up the deaths of Heather, and Kurt, and Ram? Why did you stay with Jason Dean?

Why did you lie to me? Why were you so cruel?

It’s a good thing the answer is always the same. Veronica grabs the marker and moves it around the board.

A.F.R.A.I.D.

Weren’t they all?

  By turning the pages of her diary, and moving the wooden marker, Veronica deduces she can interact with some things, but not others.

She says as much to Heather. Chandler nods, understanding, and then that same something Veronica saw on the day she died creeps onto Heather’s face.

It comes out like a confession. “I tried to pull the pen out of your hands, when you were writing my suicide note. That did nothing, obviously. I tried talking to my parents, to Heather, to get someone to notice me, but the only person who heard was you.” Heather pauses. “Sorry. For what I said.”

“No big deal. I deserved it.” Veronica pushes on when Heather opens her mouth to interrupt, “What can you touch? Or, y’know, interact with? Anything?”

Heather thinks for a moment.

“Mirrors,” she says slowly, “All the ones in my house broke after my funeral, when I was yelling at my mom to listen. I think Heather Duke saw me once in the girls’ bathroom, too.”

Veronica nods, connecting the dots in her head.

  Veronica experimentally picks up Martha’s pen. Hypothesis confirmed. Objects connected to her in life.

She knows Martha won’t come up to her bedroom anytime soon – there’s too much animated discussion from downstairs, excited voices floating through Veronica’s ears as she writes. McNamara and Betty have come over for an evening of swashbuckling and true love. Veronica knows at least McNamara hasn’t seen The Princess Bride, since every accidental reference Veronica made flew straight over her head.

She has to make a conscious effort not to go downstairs and join them. It’s not her place anymore, she tells herself. Back to the task at hand.

She’s always been good with words. Even Chandler had grudgingly thanked her for the suicide note (god, that was fucked up), but Martha had been there for Veronica as long as she could remember. She deserved art.

Veronica writes in Martha’s history book. She says she’s sorry for everything she unwittingly put Martha through, for being self-centered and murderous and awful. She says she doesn’t know if life is different after high school, and that she never will, but for Martha’s sake she hopes that life outside Sherwood is better for her, and for her new friends. She tells Martha to keep them close, but to let Veronica go.

There’s a voice from behind her.

“Can you tell her that I’m sorry?��� Ram Sweeney asks meekly. Veronica had almost forgotten about him. “I was shitty to her, and I get that now.”

“I’ll consider it.”

She does. Maybe it’ll give him closure, she rationalizes. Maybe then he and Kurt could move on. Maybe they can do all the things Ram’s father said he would.

Maybe she could move on, too.

 (She doesn’t.)

  It gets easier.

Veronica figures some things out. Heather makes a game of scaring the shit out of Country Club Courtney (“I’m trying to make her a better person. I’m scaring her straight.” Veronica doesn’t believe her, but plays along anyway.) Veronica spends most of her time reading books over Heather Duke’s shoulder or drawing on Ms. Fleming’s blackboard. Heather gives her a backhanded compliment on her artistic talent, and Veronica giggles as she wipes the pictures away.

Sometimes Heather holds her, or she holds Heather, because one or the other just remembered what it’s like to die. They keep each other grounded.

The Class of 1990 graduates, short five members. Then the Class of ’91, ’92, and so on. Fleming retires. Gowan resigns.

The world moves on around them, and they stay the same.

It never gets better. Just easier.

[akaiikowrites]

It used to be so easy. They were a cliche. Here’s the golden boy of campus. Captain of the baseball team, valedictorian, president of the senior class. There, on his arm, is the only girl worthy of standing next to him. Too pretty to be real, cheerleader, Head Bitch in Charge. Perfect, natural, easy.

There’s just one little hitch. They’re going to break up today.

Keith shifts his weight, hips swaying in a nervous tandem, as he watches the hall. No sign of his boyfriend yet. Maybe five minutes till first period. Shiro’s not late, yet, but normally he’s here already. They always spend the ten minutes between the end of Shiro’s morning practice and the start of first period together. Shiro walks him to class, heavily muscled arm slung over his shoulder, and steals kisses anytime he thinks he can get away with it. For ten minutes every morning the rest of the world melts away.

Copper floods his mouth. Once again he’s bitten his lower lip to bleeding. Bad habit. Gives him something to do though.

Pulling open his locker, he surveys the damage in the little mirror Shiro helped him install at the beginning of the year. Just a little beaded smear of red at the corner of his mouth. Unable to stop himself, he prods at the wound with his tongue. It stings, but not too bad. Probably he can cover it with lipstick.

It’s easier to focus now that he has something concrete to do. Pulling out his lipstick, he begins applying in careful swipes that leave his entire mouth a startling shade of red. Rouge Louboutin is his favorite. He still remembers how it felt when he saw it at the mall. How Shiro’s eyes had gone dark with wanting when he saw the splash of color against Keith’s pale complexion. And how Keith had laughed, too bright and happy, when Shiro bought him a tube of it with a muttered worth it.

God, breaking up is really going to suck.

Arms slide around his waist at the same time lips press into the curve of his neck. “Hey there, cherrybomb,” Shiro breathes against his skin. Without waiting for a response, he nips at the skin, almost hard enough to mark.

This is the part where Keith is supposed to playfully squeal and smack at Shiro’s hands. Instead, he has a clarity that this is what he’s giving up. It had seemed so much easier when it was theoretical. Now it’s real.

Twisting in Shiro’s arms, he nudges his face beneath his boyfriend’s chin and grits his teeth against the tears pricking the backs of his eyelids. Fresh off practice Shiro smells like soap and fresh cut grass and sunshine. Like safety. “Miss me?” Shiro’s laughing, a pleasant rumble that Keith feels more than he hears. One of his hands strokes down Keith’s spine to settle flat and possessive against the small of his back. Instinctively, Keith burrows closer, until there’s nothing except Shiro. That’s what finally tips the scales. “Kee, baby, what’s wrong? Something happen? Someone say something to you?” Like Shiro always does he starts out worried and, the longer Keith’s silent, moves into protective fury.

“No,” Keith forces out. “No I’m fine. I’m fine I just—“ He wants to say missed you. It’s there. Tip of his tongue. Because it’s true. He did miss Shiro. All weekend, when Shiro was visiting LSU to talk baseball scholarships, and this morning while he waited by his locker.

Admitting it will just make things harder though. Keith pushes back a little and looks up into Shiro’s eyes. They’re the exact grey of thunderstorm clouds. “Kiss me?” he asks, and he’s grateful his voice doesn’t crack.

Shiro smiles and ducks his head down. His lips are warm and taste like mint toothpaste. The way he kisses is equal parts gentle and possessive. Just enough to make it feel like he’s never going to let Keith go. So Keith surges up onto his toes, arms winding around those broad shoulders, trying to memorize exactly how it feels to be the girl of this boy’s teenage dreams. The memories aren’t going to be enough, but they’re all he’s going to have.

Bell for first period rings just as they split apart. Keith laughs, and it feels hollow in his chest. Reaching up, he uses his thumb to smudge away the lipstick that had transferred to Shiro’s lips.

“You sure you’re okay, cherrybomb?” Shiro asks. He’s still got a hand on the small of Keith’s back and he lets his thumb rub in small, soothing circles that always calm Keith down. “Drove to practice today. I can take you home, if you need.” Another thing to lose. The way Shiro drives him home when he’s sick, and tucks him into bed, and presses a kiss to his forehead before going to get him soup and the newest bad action fantasy movie at the WalMart. Maybe he can put it off. Maybe they can go home and he can let Shiro hold him. Maybe...

Wolf whistling punctures his thoughts. Keith looks over his shoulder reflexively. Lotor passes them with a sneer fixed on his aristocratic face. It softens to a smirk when he makes eye contact with Keith. “What red lips you have, princess,” he says. What a shame if he were to find out, princess.

“Fuck off,” Keith snaps.

Lotor rolls his eyes and moves down the hall. Disappears into the crush of students all hurrying to make first period. When Keith finally looks back to his boyfriend, Shiro’s watching him with a considering expression. That’s not good.

“Something happen this weekend?” he asks. Another boyfriend would be asking if Keith cheated. “Did he try something again?” Shiro trusts Keith too much for that. Shiro trusts Keith too much, period. That’s how they got here.

“I don’t feel good,” Keith says.

Of course Shiro switches gears immediately. Wraps his arm more securely around Keith’s waist and pulls Keith’s backpack onto his own shoulder. “Okay, Kee, no problem. I’ll get you home.” Later, once he’s got Keith spooned against his chest and some terrible movie playing, he’ll ask again. Keith knows that, even as he tucks himself more firmly into Shiro’s side.

What a shame if he were to find out, princess, that you’re actually a prince.

He was the captain of the baseball team, I was in the cheerios, a certifiable bitch, a bee queen. We were meant to be together! it was a cliche, I know, but we were made for each other! But here’s my dilemma, I was a boy you see, and he, he was a real straight arrow kinda fella and poor me? a boy, in a dress non the less and he shouldn’t, couldn’t  want me.

Someone write me this fic!!!!! 🦄

[graveyardshift-writer]

Endearment and Enmity Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh. Title: Endearment and Enmity Rating: T-M depending on chapter, M overall Summary: When you're literally married to the person you despise. Warnings: Homosexual relationships,vulgar words and adult situations. Author's Note: I don't know why I wrote this. Chapter 3: Forward. "Kaiba-sama, a man and his son and here to see you." Jonouchi inwardly flinched when one of the LVN's referred to him by his married name; something he'd probably never be used to. He kept his disgust to himself as he turned to face the young nurse. "Understood, thank you; but why isn't the doctor seeing him?" "The doctor has, she wants you to coax the boy into taking his medicine. You know children don't respond to her like they do to you." Jonouchi couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Alright. Which room are they in?" "Fifty." As Jonouchi walked to the room he could swear he could hear the other nurse giggle; which made him suspicious as first but he ended up just shrugging it off. Females, as much as he loved them, were strange creatures. He walked into the room, and was taken aback. "Jou!" The man, father of the boy he was supposed to be attending to, was grinning as he walked over. An all-too-familiar man. "O-Otagi?" Jonouchi stammered slightly before breaking into his own grin over seeing a friendly familiar face in the dice master. Ryuji Otogi looked very similar to how he had as a teen, but was dressed casually and more conservatively. His dark hair was trimmed and kept in a neater style but still in a ponytail in the back, the rims of his eyes were clear from lack of eyeliner, and his dice earrings were now just gold hoops, which Jonouchi supposed were supposed to match the golden band around his finger. Against his shoulder he held a small toddler-aged boy. "I heard you were working here and almost couldn't believe it." The dark haired man told his old friend with a small smile "But I saw your name on the employee roster in the hallway and requested you." "Really? Wow. I haven't been able to meet up with anyone yet." Truthfully he knew that his friends knew him well enough to see his frustration over his marriage with Kaiba as soon as the subject would be brought up. Luckily, Otogi just couldn't see right through him like Yugi, Anzu and Honda could. "Is it true though… Did you really tie the knot with Kaiba?" Well son of a bitch, that topic came up quickly. Jonouchi managed to keep a straight face as he pointed to his name tab which clearly read 'Katsuya Kaiba' a name the blonde had no attachment to. "Wow, I guess I should start calling you Kaiba then huh." "Please don't." Jonouchi told him, trying not to sound as exasperated as he really was "Can you introduce me to your son?" That should get Otogi off the topic, parents loved gushing about their kids. He was relieved when he was proven to be right as the dark haired man turned his baby boy to face Jonouchi. The boy had very dark brown hair that shot up in random spikes, and green eyes just like his father, but his skin was tan compared to Otogi's pale. He was oddly familiar, but then again all babies looked the same in the CRNA's opinion. "What's the boys name?" "Chokichi." Otogi told him as he lightly bounced the small toddler, who only continued to absentmindedly suck on his thumb. That made Jonouchi quirk a brow at the similarity the baby shared with another one. "That's ironic, Honda's son has the same name-" Before the blonde could properly finish his sentence, the other man started to chuckle, making him pause "Hey what's so funny, guy?" "Didn't Honda ever tell you?" Otogi continued to chuckle, then cleared his throat "Chokichi is mine and Honda's son, we had him together." "..." Jonouchi fell silent. Honda and Otogi? His former classmate had a ring on, did that mean he was married to Honda? And they somehow had a kid together? "What?" Honda had sent him a ton of pictures of the baby the minute the kid had been born, but he always dodged the question on who the 'mother' was, which at the time had Jonouchi come to the conclusion that some girl he'd slept with just ditched the baby on him. Turned out there was no mother. "...How?" "That's a story for another time." Otogi's eyes held a glint "Me and Honda aren't married since it isn't legal yet, we have a domestic partnership however. We attended the same university and fell in love there." Although Jonouchi supposed he should have felt happy for his friends, it still felt like a stab to just now hear about all of that. Honda had been his friend since middle school, and yeah neither of them were the best when it came to calling, but he couldn't have at least mentioned once he was involved with Otogi and had even started a family together? "Interesting..." He muttered in an almost Kaiba-esque way, which he caught right away. Gross, the bastard was starting to rub off on him. "Well, can you tell me what's wrong with the little guy?" "He's had a fever for the past few days and he can't shake it off..." Otogi explained as he gently stroked the baby's head. "Hm. Simple thing man, doesn't sweat. This is probably just a bacterial infection - kids put everything into their mouths you know. We'll give him some fluid and electrolytes and probably some broad-spectrum antibiotics. But let me ask a few questions first; what kind of symptoms has he shown?" "Fever, crying to the point of screaming… isn't eating and can't sleep well." Jot. "Does he have any allergies?" "Bee stings." Jot. "Does he take any medications currently?" "Just some baby cough medicine." Jot. "Has this happened before?" "No, he hasn't run a fever like this before." Jot. "What was the last thing he ate or drank?" "Cold formula milk, and a little bit of applesauce." Jot. "What was going on before he came down with the fever?" "Just… normal stuff. We took him out for a walk out at the little kids park." Jot. Just as he took the last note the baby started to loudly cry, his flushed face growing to the likeness of an angry tomato. "No, baby shh, it's okay..." Otogi told the baby softly and rocked him, rubbing his back and trying to calm him down in all of the usual ways. Still a little alien seeing Otogi so gentle. "Alright you wait here, I'll go consult his pediatrician." From the cupboard he quickly produced a pedialyte bottle, a special type of juice for babies with plenty of electrolytes, very important for fevers. "Give him this, the fevers probably dehydrating him." The dark haired man nodded and took the bottle, coaxing the small boy into drinking from it. -/- "What's wrong with you today?" Kaiba asked, more out of curiosity than actual concern. Jonouchi had come into his office after work as he sometimes did, which the brunet requested as to keep up appearances. Jonouchi's teeth ungritted just enough to ask"Did you know that Otogi and Honda were partners?" His… spouse, didn't bother to so much as look up from his computer screen. "Well… Did you?" Jonouchi had just gotten off of work and changed before heading over, he tried texting and calling Honda but had gotten no response, and he'd grown so frustrated in silence that now he had to take it out on someone even if it had to be the guy he hated for holding him as a basically a hostage-bride. "I might have heard at some point in time from my brother, but I don't go out of my way to keep track of the cheerleader squad. So, I'm gonna have to say no." The CEO cooly replied, typing away. "I can't believe that he wouldn't tell me. I've known that asshole since we were troublemaking shits of kids. I've scraped his ass off of the sidewalk like bubblegum so many times- Kaiba, would you at least pretend you see me as a regular person as look at me while I talk to you?" Just to prove his point and frustration he gripped the couch and shoved it over onto it's back. Kaiba at least acknowledged him by looking up and stopping his excessive typing. "I mean, I'm not expecting the guy to tell me each and every one of his most intimate secrets. But that's a big part of his life and he never bothered to tell me." The blue-eyed man crossed his arms with a disapproving hum "What do you expect? Did you think that you and your clique would remain friends forever once high school ended? Wake up, friendship doesn't last forever no matter how much you preach, they moved on. And so should you." Honestly, Kaiba had almost forgot just how emotional the other duelist could be. "This is coming from the guy who spent millions of dollars taking control of a city for a duel monsters tournament because you couldn't accept defeat." Jonouchi retorted. Kaiba's hand tightened around his own forearm. He'd been a little hot-blooded back then, but his loss to Yugi all those years ago never felt right… perhaps because the boy who beat him wasn't Yugi at all, but the spirit of the puzzle. Even in the Grand Prix, losing to Yugi didn't feel right. Why? Because even if he was dueling the spirit of the puzzle, the spirit was in the end just a spirit… He wasn't his true self, he wasn't at his full strength with his own memories or ambitions, he was in the end just a powerful extension of Yugi. That was why he had gone so far as to see the Pharaoh in the afterlife, because his old rival owed him a real duel. Even if he hadn't won, he still had the closure he needed to move on with his life. "Stop looking back Katsuya, you're not supposed to be going that way." Kaiba answered cryptically as he resumed his work. Jonouchi glared coldly at him. "Everyone has a past Kaiba, even you. You think I don't know that you named that hospital after the Orphanage you came from?" The brunet paused again "Whatever, you're no help. I'm going back to the mansion, and I'm not fixing the damn couch. " With that the REBD turned away and left, ultimately venting didn't help. And he felt no closer to his… spouse. Oh well, yet another night of dry sobbing into his pillow and jacking it. TO BE CONTINUED Authors note: So the clinic is named after the orphanage that the Kaiba brothers came from, that's what I've decided. And yes, there you go, Otogi and Honda are a couple with an adorable little shit of their own. As stated before, this fanfiction takes place years after the Dark Side of Dimensions, where Kaiba somehow comes back from the afterlife after his duel with Atem. He didn't win, but after having finally gotten a fair duel with no one else but him and and the Pharaoh, he found closure and could finally move on. Please leave a review.

[goodfellas-style]

Twip!

The webbing shot out of his wrist connecting to a building giving him a chance to swing. The air blew over his red and blue costume when he swung higher, passed the top of the skyline. Letting go of the thin sticky sting was always the moment before the real exciting part. Falling. His heart raced as he saw the ground getting closer and closer. Thwip! Another web shot out of his wrist to repeat all of this once more, "Whoo!" the boy behind the mask yelled. Peter Parker has been Spider-Man for the past year and he has loved every moment of it. He got to help people, save them from harm, make a difference just like his Uncle Ben would have wanted. Being Spider-Man was the best part of his day, night, possibly the best part of his life so far. It had not been easy though, Peter has made enemies along the way, powerful ones. Doctor Octopus, Kraven the Hunter, Scorpion, the Lizard, the Vulture, the Rhino, Electro, Sandman. Most recently Mysterio. This guy, Peter found as a joke seeing as how he just defeated him only ten minutes ago. Mysterio could make illusion of the mind to trick his enemies, but he was only smoke and mirrors. His tricks were useless to the trusty Spider-Sense that Peter had. So was he an easy take down? Peter would have to say yes. But that didn't mean Mysterio had the worst timing. He had tried to intimidate Time Square this morning, getting everyone to hand over their wallets or else his swarm of gigantic killer bees would kill everyone. Peter saw it on his news app on his way to school, suited up, then took care of Mysterio with a punch to that fishbowl head. The gigantic killer bees were nothing more than robots, real convincing ones. All of this commotion caused Peter to be late for school. But the bad guy was put away in the end. That's what mattered right? How it was all Black and White. When he finally made it, Peter missed three periods, "Dang it!" He hastily changed out of his Spider-Man attire to his normal, 'civilian' clothes on top of the school roof. A blue long sleeve shirt, dark wash jeans, white sneakers, a ruff of his brown locks seemed to get rid of the 'mask hair'. Stuffing the suit in his back pack, Peter tossed the bag over one shoulder and booked it down the steps to find his class room. Peter ran passed a banner that hung across hall reading 'Homecoming 10/8'. He let out a groan when he saw that. He still didn't have a date to that, not because he did not wish to go. Peter wanted to, it's just the female population at his school had found him as...a nobody. Flash Thompson, Peter's 'tormentor' since Kindergarten, made it know to all the girls that he was 'A Geek Loser that will never go anywhere'. Flash can be brutal, but it didn't stop Harry Osborn from befriending Peter. Harry was the real reason Peter was going to Homecoming. He was his best pal. "If you don't have a date, go with me and Glory as a group of friends," he suggested, but Peter didn't want to third wheel his best friend or make Glory uncomfortable. So Peter had to find a date and fast. It was October 3rd so the dance was coming up fast. When Peter got into his fourth period he was two minutes late, "Mr. Parker. What an honor it is for you to join us," his Calculus teacher said to him. "I'm sorry, sir. I got caught up in a th--," Peter tried to think of a quick lie but his teacher cut him off, "Mr. Parker, I'm sure whatever excuse you have, I have heard before. So spare me the and the class the trouble and sit down." "Right," he said a little embarrassed when some of the students laughed at him. Peter found his desk in the back then took out his text book opening it to the right page. 'Great start, Peter.' "I'm telling you, man, eyes so green you would think they were contacts," a couple of boys whispered to one another. Peter could hear them from his seat, spider-hearing and all. "Okay but what about her rack? How did that look?" The other boy asked. Peter rolled his eyes, "I didn't get a good look. She was wearing this red coat that covered her up." "Man, I bet the new girl has tiny tits then and uses that coat to cover herself. Probably a prude too." "Yeah. Good luck getting her a date to Homecoming." 'New Girl?' Peter thought to himself. 'She must have enrolled today here at Midtown.' The thought of a new face that didn't know who Peter was felt kinda nice. It was like he got a chance to redefine himself as being more than a 'nobody'. After his class was over, Peter went down the halls keeping an eye out for this 'new girl in the red coat with green eyes'. He did hear a couple of girls talk about how she was an exchange student from London, "She didn't even have an accent. I bet she is lying to sound cool." He saw a blonde looking in her locker wearing the coat. This was Peter's chance to go up to this mystery student. Just as he was crossing the hall drums went off with a collection of horns playing. Coming his was were cheerleaders chanting and the marching band getting the crowd to start pushing people out of the way. "Excuse me--if I can just get over to that side," Peter tried to get away but he was practically shoved over to On his way to lunch, Peter still didn't see her, not even a red coat in sight. Maybe she took it off. In the food pick up line he heard Liz Allen talking about this new girl. She had her in P.E. "She's hella weird looking. Like I bet those eyes are contacts because no eyes are that green. Plus she gives off an errie feeling. It's creepy." "Liz, you're just jealous that she beat your record in climbing the rope. Hell she beat Flash's record!" Glory called out her friend. Peter smirked at that, "Shut up! I am not. I bet Blondie is one of those freaky mutants or something." "Or she's just better than you at gym. Better watch out, she might swipe your head cheerleader position, or worse, Homecoming Queen crown," Glory teased. Liz scowled so hard at her, "Don't even joke like that cause you are not funny." Well, he knew she was blond now and had great physic. Peter paid for his meal then went to go look for Harry. Maybe Harry saw her. He found his friend standing over by a table socializing with the debate team when Harry saw him, "Pete! Where have you been all day, man? Did you not hear what happened at Time Square this morning?" He made his way over to Peter. "I did. Pretty crazy, but uh I was at the dentist...getting a cleaning." Harry put on his sunglasses and started to walk outside as he let out a laugh, "How nerd-ish of you but hey, I guess you wanna look your best for Homecoming. Speaking of, have you found a lucky lady?" When they were outside, Peter set his food tray down and sat to eat. He took a bite of his apple speaking with a mouthful, "No, but I was gonna ask. Have you seen this 'new girl?'" He swallowed when Harry's eyes lit up, "The exchange student from London? Dude, she's in our first period." "So you did meet her?" "Well, no. Not really. She was introduced to the class then that was it. Very quiet, but very pretty. Like it's a little intimidating, especially with her resting bitch face." Peter gave him a confused look, "Wait, what? Really? She looks mean?" Harry gave him the hand gesture for 'little bit', "Why? Did you wanna ask her out?" Peter let out a deflated breath with a nod, "Yeah, I kinda was hoping to have a clean slate with her. You know, prove I'm not such a geek like all the other girls here think I am." Harry gave an amused smile, "Okay, Charlie Brown, maybe you should go find this girl and do what you never do." "Yeah, what's that, Snoopy?" Peter quipped back, "Make a move. Before someone else thinks they can tame this beautiful beast." "Beautiful Beast? Harry, you have such a way with words it's no wonder Glory is going with you." Harry rolled his eyes at Peter, "You get what I mean." "I don't even know her name." "It was Jennifer...or no that's not it. Julia? It was something with a J." Peter was about to comment on Harry's memory skills until the corner of his eye caught something red. When he looked over he did see a girl in a red coat, he did see blonde hair, but he also did not see her face for she was walking away. "Harry, is that her?" He patted his arm. Harry looked over, "Yeah! I think so. Go over to her. Now is your chance!" Peter got up to hurry over to introduce himself to Jennifer or Julia or this girl with a name starting with a J. Just as he was ten feet behind her, Peter saw her turn her head to the side. He was going to see her face, he was going to see-- "Parker!" Flash got in front of Peter blocking his view of the new girl. He threw his hands in the air, "Uh! Really Flash? Can't you bug me in five more minutes?" The larger boy got Peter in a head lock to give him a noogie, "And miss the opportunity to rag on you? Not a chance!" Peter pulled out of it and shoved Flash away, "Dude, we are not in middle school anymore. Grow up!" The bell rung as Flash waved him off, "What a little spaz. Thinks he can take the 'high ground' like he's got something to prove." Peter let out an angry huff then went to look around for the girl. She was no where around. Well at least she didn't get to see any of that. He still had a chance. Harry came over to give Peter his back pack, "Don't worry, man. I'm sure she'll still be available tomorrow." "Yeah. There's that." By sixth period, Peter had lost hope that the new girl was available. He kept hearing people still talking about her, "That girl is gonna find a date easy to the dance." "She is not gonna be single too long at this school." "Girls like her need to go out with guys like me. Winners." "I think she's hot. I'm gonna ask her to Homecoming." Peter snapped his pencil in half from everyone talking. At least he was in his last class, Biology. Using his brain for science was always a nice way to get his mind off of things. As class started, his teacher Mr. Warren was at the front of the class making notes on the white board. "Evolution & Natural Selection." He clears his throat, "This week we will be going over adaptation, survival of the fittest, and cover all the types of selection. Appropriate seeing as your dance will be coming up. You get to see why you chose to go with that grease monkey," he joked pointing to a couple in the back.