#i just really miss barb man

[likecastle]

Ronance Femslash February - inseparable since childhood

Thanks so much to the anon who sent the prompt “inseparable since childhood”! I may have hurt my own feelings a little with this one--not so much because of what’s in the actual ficlet, but just wondering what it might have changed. Anyway!

I still need a few more prompts to close out Ronance Femslash February, so please send them my way! Anon asks are totally fine, and you’re welcome to send more than one prompt. Don’t be shy! You can find previous prompts I’ve filled here.

“You’d better still hang out with us, that’s all I’m saying.” Barb watches Nancy’s face go still in surprise, but she perseveres, because this needs to be said. “If you become friends with Tommy H. or Carol—”

“Oh, gross,” Nancy says, just as Robin bounds up to them and practically trounces Nancy from behind.

“Who’s gross?” Robin asks, leaning playfully on Nancy’s shoulder.

Nancy goes stiff under Robin’s weight, a cornered expression on her face. “No one.”

Nancy hasn’t told Robin about Steve yet, despite Barb’s repeated warnings that Robin will flip when she finds out Nancy’s been keeping it from her. Still, Barb can understand why Nancy isn’t exactly eager to tell her about making out with the king of Hawkins High himself. Unlike Barb and Nancy, who mostly manage to fly under the radar, socially speaking, Robin tends to attract more unfavorable attention from the popular kids. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t look as clean-cut as Nancy and Barb do, or because the Buckleys don’t have as much money as the Hollands or the Wheelers, or maybe it’s just because Robin refuses to accept the prevailing social order as immutable law. But whatever the reason, Robin’s caught a lot of flack from Steve Harrington’s flunkies over the years, so Barb gets why Nancy isn’t falling all over herself to announce what Robin will no doubt see as a grave betrayal.

“Ohhh-kay,” Robin drawls, taking her weight off Nancy’s shoulder at last. She may not have the best grasp of social niceties all the time, but she’s hardly oblivious. She must have noticed the look that passed between them when she showed up, can’t have missed the tension in Nancy’s shoulders. “Did I miss something?”

“Just nervous about chemistry,” Nancy says, all the bubbly good humor of a few minutes ago evaporated. She turns to put her books away, as if it’s the only way she can think of to avoid looking at Robin.

“Ooh, what’s this?” Robin exclaims. Her arm shoots out to snag a folded piece of paper sitting at the bottom of Nancy’s locker. “Does someone have a secret admirer?”

“Give that back,” Nancy snaps, snatching the paper back from Robin and shoving it into the pocket of her jacket. “Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” She slams her locker shut and brushes past Robin to hurry off down the hall.

“Was it something I said?” Robin asks blithely, more to the thin air where Nancy was standing than to Barb. Despite the attempt at a joke, Barb can see the hurt on Robin’s face, the way she cranes her neck to watch Nancy round the corner and disappear.

Barb sighs. This is the other reason she’s been insisting to Nancy that keeping things from Robin is a bad idea. The three of them have been practically inseparable since childhood, and they all know each other better than they know probably anybody else in the world, but there are still things they don’t talk about—like the way Robin looked sick to her stomach when Kyle P. asked Nancy to dance at Homecoming last year, or how self-conscious Robin’s gotten at sleepovers since the last time Nancy tried to give her a makeover. Barb doesn’t know how to bring it up, and Robin certainly isn’t about to say anything, but somebody needs to say something, or things are only going to get worse. “Come on,” she says, nudging Robin’s shoulder, “we’d better go or we’ll be late to class.”

[cheer-nympho]

Steve was always being brushed off when he asked people to read things aloud for him,

In middle school his assigned partner for their ‘Frankenstein’ project gave him a scornful glare and ignored him when he had asked them to read the passages aloud.

In his sophomore year, he’d turned to ask Robin Buckley to read a old newspaper article about the ‘Wild West’ to him, because he couldn’t make it out through the fonts and weird words. She had fixed him with a cold look but before she could respond, Tammy was tapping his shoulder offering her help.

Then, while studying with Nancy and Barb at lunch, Steve had asked for help reading study cards. His own study cards. The paper was too bright and the squiggles too squiggly. Both of them had looked at him, them each other, clearly trying to decide if it was a joke.

Barb had scoffed under Nancys pointed look and gone back to her own notes. And while Nancy hadn’t read them out for him, she had handed him her own notes on some nice blue and yellow cards. It took him a while, but he could read them. Maybe she thought he hadn’t wrote any.

After that, he went a long time without asking anyone to read him things. Turns out that once you graduate, reading isn’t much of an issue. He’d gotten by just fine by looking at his Archie comics and ignoring the swirling lines of articles surrounding them.

He didn’t need to ask again until Scoops Ahoy. For a cheap, overly themed ice cream parlour there sure was a whole lot of memorising and reading to be done. He couldn’t see the charts properly, couldn’t really make out the dates on the tubs in the freezer. But every time he asked Robin for help, her frown would deepen and deepen until she just snapped. It hadn’t been that mean, really. Just an annoyed yell followed by accusations of being lazy, her not understanding how he managed to graduate, one last comment of him being a ‘bumbling idiot’.

After the Russians, she never said anything like that to him again. And she always did the inventory and lists for him.

It takes until summer, 1987, for anyone to read aloud to Steve. They were laying across Eddie’s new bed in comfortable silence.

Steve had his legs dangling off the edges as Eddie leant back against him, legs pointing up against the wall in a way he swore was actually comfortable. He had been reading a new book called “Spellfire” and he couldn’t seem to put it down.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“What’s your book about?”

“This? Well I…Not sure it’s really your thing, man.”

“Maybe.” He goes back to reading. “I could see if it’s my thing?”

Eddie twists his head sideways to look up at Steve with a slightly confused face. “You wanna borrow it?”

“Was thinking you could read it.” He fiddled with the pocket of his jeans in a hopefully casual and not freaking out way. He didn’t look at Eddie as he waited, but after a few moments he responded.

“Sure. That’s fine, yeah. Want me to start over or go from here?”

“From there is good.”

And it was good, it was really really good. Steve hadn’t been able to read a book since middle school, hadn’t really tried again after that. But as he lay back and let Eddie’s voice wash over him he couldn’t help feeling that he’d been missing out.

Sure, it actually wasn’t really his thing, but the way Eddie read aloud painted such a clear picture that Steve enjoyed it anyway. The other would change his voice slightly for different characters and added emotions into his speaking. If it was a tense moment, he’d go slow and add gaps in just the right places. If it was fast paced he’d speed up and get more and more manic until the action cut off. He felt like he was reading along. Felt like he could see the pages in the book, but also the characters and the dungeon they were combining through.

So, for the first time Steve hadn’t been brushed off. He had probably found the only person he knew who could turn reading a book into a performance. One he would happily be seated for every night.

From then on, new books turned up at the trailer every week, Steve not far behind.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Confessions

Steddie || ~2.3k words || rating: T || tags: post vecna, references to stancy, angst and fluff, robin buckley just being herself

~~~

Eddie and Robin were just finishing filling the snack bowls and mixing drinks when they heard a knock at the door. It’s a Friday night– and not what Eddie would consider a late hour–but they weren’t expecting anyone to join their weekly movie night at Steve’s. 

He glances at Robin who shrugs, shaking her head. As he rounds the kitchen counter towards the foyer, Steve’s voice carries down the hallway.

“Nance?” He sounds surprised too.

“Steve, I’m sorry I know it’s late, but I’ve been meaning to talk to you and I can’t wait anymore,” she says. Eddie can’t see her, but she sounds anxious. 

“This can’t be good,” Robin huffs. He agrees, if the sinking pit in his stomach is any indicator.

“Look, Nance, now’s not really–”

“Steve,” she barrels over him, sounding desperate. “I’ve been an idiot trying to convince myself that I haven’t missed you since we broke up– and before you say it, this isn’t because Jonathan left after we closed the last gate. When we were stuck there with Robin and Eddie, the way you looked at me was how I’ve always hoped someone would love me. You looked at me like I was everything to you, like you could look at me forever and never get tired of it. I feel wanted, and loved, and safe when I’m around you.” She takes a deep, steadying breath before pressing on.

“Last time, when we were together, I took all of my grief and anger out on you. I blamed you for  what happened to Barb because I couldn’t face it myself and I knew you loved me enough to hold the weight, and I resented you for it. You wouldn’t stand up to me, and I resented you because you loved me anyway.” Eddie can hear Nancy sniffling, small sobs carrying down the hallway. “You loved me at my worst, and you didn’t deserve that. You’re amazing, and strong, and kind and everything I could ever ask for.

“Steve, what you said in the Winnebago, I just, I can’t stop thinking about you. About us”

The silence that follows is stifling and Eddie feels bile climbing up his throat. Arms wrap around his shoulders as Robin tucks her head into his neck. Only a small comfort while months of gentle moments with Steve flash behind his eyes: soft hands brushing his curls, stolen glances, lingering touches, and warm smiles. Now Eddie’s forced to stand vigil as it’s all washed away by Nancy's whispered pleas.

“Nance, please–”

A spark of hope after a late night confession weeks ago– swiftly blown away.

“Steve Harrington, I lo–”

“Nancy,” Steve interrupts, his tone firm yet soft around the edges, “I’m in love with someone else.”

Robin gasps into his neck. Her arms around his shoulders squeeze tight, anchoring him to reality in the wake of Steve’s confession. His chest is so full he can’t breathe. 

“Oh,” Nancy whispers before another, deeper sob leaves her breathless. He never thought he’d hear Nancy Wheeler cry. Even though they’re apparently both in love with the same man, he’s grown close with her too and can’t help the urge to comfort her. Eddie’s grown to love everyone in his new found family. But Nancy is right. 

“Yeah Nance, I’m sorry. And they’re kind of here right now, so,” he says gently.

Steve Harrington is everything. 

And they’re kind of here right now…

Hope flames in his chest, blooming with warmth. Eddie doesn’t hear the conversation end over the buzzing in his own head and Robin’s frantic giggling until they hear the click of the front door and Steve’s footsteps coming towards them.

“Oh.”

Steve’s standing in front of them, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. Eddie’s realizing he and Robin maybe should’ve hid before Steve rounded the corner to find them eavesdropping. 

“So,” Steve stammers, a fierce rouge burning his ears, “how much of that did you hear, exactly?”

Robin quickly stands, clearing her throat before Eddie can think of an answer. “Is that the microwave? Did anyone else hear the microwave ding? I think the popcorn is done, so I can go check that right now. Yeah, right now. I’ll just, umm, be in the kitchen checking the popcorn. For the movie.”

She practically sprints down the hall, and although she wasn’t subtle, Eddie’s still thankful for the privacy. Steve’s shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

“Everything,” Eddie answers. “We heard everything.”

“Oh,” Steve says again. He sounds anxious and unsure, something Eddie’s compelled to fix, because all he wants in this world is for Steve Harrington to be happy.

“It’s ok.” He takes Steve’s hands in his own, tracing his thumb lightly over his knuckles. “We won’t say anything to her about it, and we won’t tell anyone what she said. Nancy’s in safe hands with us. Mum’s the word!” And as Eddie mimes zippering up his mouth, he hopes that Steve won’t take the easy way out. That he won’t use the life-raft Eddie’s just thrown in his direction to keep him from drowning. 

“Right,” Steve says. He runs a hand through his hair, biting his lip as he gazes at the floor between them. The silence as Eddie waits for Steve’s next words grows long and tense. He can’t hear any movement in the kitchen, making him more anxious now that he knows Robin’s listening. Which, he’d be a hypocrite to be mad about.

Maybe he has this all wrong. Maybe Steve just needed a way to get her to leave, so he lied about having a date over. Maybe he didn’t know what to say, and just said the first thing to pop into his head. Maybe it’s got nothing to do with Eddie at all. 

Eddie realizes he’s still holding Steve’s hands, his grip tightening the longer he spirals. If it hurts, Steve hasn’t said anything. But when Eddie looks at his face, he seems dazed and lost in thought. As fast as if he’d been burned, Eddie drops Steve’s hands and takes a step backward.

“So,” Eddie stammers, voice shaking, “I’m going to go help Birdie with the popcorn. You want to get another movie started?”

Hands still frozen in the air, Steve finally lets his clenched fists fall to his sides. Eddie can see the whites of his knuckles. He hears Steve sigh, exhausted and frustrated, but Steve’s nodding with furrowed brows and taking a step backward towards the living room– away from Eddie. Too far to reach out to.

Turning away, Eddie’s in the middle of forming an escape attempt when he opens the kitchen door to immediately be swept up in Robin’s arms. Of course she’d been listening. He’s grateful for it, now that he doesn’t have to explain himself. As he buries his face into her neck, he finds a wet patch and wonders what kind of accident she got into while prepping snacks. It’s not until she starts gently shushing him that he realizes he’s crying, tears soaking into her shirt. 

“It’s gonna be ok, teddy bear,” she says, running her hand through his curls, “he’ll get there, I promise. He’s working on it, you know that.”

He nods. He does know that. Steve’s been out to Robin for a few months, but only to Eddie for a few weeks. He deserves the space to figure it out, and the grace of those around him to do so at his own pace. Still, Eddie can’t help his growing impatience alongside the increasing severity of his crush. At least Robin’s here to support the both of them.

The two of them finish gathering the snacks in silence. She was full of awkward jokes to try to lighten the mood, but when it was clear Eddie was stuck in his head, she’d stopped. He feels bad about it. He’ll make it up to her later, plus he knows she’s not upset with him. Eddie suspects they’ll be getting together sometime tomorrow to rehash everything that’s happened– after she’s finished consoling Steve, of course.

When they leave the kitchen, Eddie’s surprised to find Steve exactly where he’d left him. He’s standing frozen in the hallway, lip pulled between his teeth and hands still clenched. But when he lifts his gaze to meet Eddie’s, there’s resolve behind his eyes.

“Eddie,” Steve says, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Oh my god! Finally!”

Eddie jumps violently at Robin’s shouting, almost directly into his ear. She’s flushed red with embarrassment decorated with a manic grin so wide he wonders if it’ll just keep stretching like taffy. There’s popcorn poured out onto the floor from where she clearly threw her hands up in excited exasperation. He watches as her eyes grow wide, her smile morphing into shock, her lips forming a perfect ‘o’, as if to say ‘oh shit, I just interrupted the most important moment in my best friends’ lives because I’m so excited and impatient that these two dinguses finally figured their shit out’.

She kicks the scattered popcorn towards the wall, like that’ll somehow hide the mess, before awkwardly passing them both down the hall towards the living room.

Eddie loves her so much.

“Huh,” Eddie chuckles, “well that was–”

“I’ve known I’ve liked you since last summer when you let me help you into my pool onto Holly’s rubber duck floaty so you could finally go swimming after you finished physical therapy.” Steve sounds out of breath, words running into each other with misplaced breaths in between. Like if he stops, he knows he won’t start again. 

It’s the only time Eddie’s felt the urge to keep quiet– when he’s not fighting for his life.

“You were so nervous,” Steve plows on, “but you said you felt safe with me, that you wanted only me to be there. You said you trusted me to help without laughing or judging you. Fuck, Eddie, you were so goddamn cute once we got you settled in with a Coke with a crazy straw in it. We were listening to ABBA and you didn’t even complain and you were so sunburnt the next day. It was the happiest I’d ever seen you.”

The memory leaves Eddie shocked. He did trust Steve to help, didn’t even consider asking anyone else because Steve just felt like the most obvious answer. He’d been there through the worst of Eddie’s post-PT work to make sure he ‘kept form’ on his exercises. They’d lounged in the sun all day, and it was the first time Eddie watched Steve relax since his final Upside-Down battle. 

Eddie feels his lip quiver, eyes burning, knowing they’d felt the same that day. Judging by Steve’s watery eyes, he guesses they feel the same now, too. 

“But love,” Steve whispers. He swallows as he takes a step closer, reaching out to grasp his hands. “Eddie Munson, I knew I was in love with you yesterday.”

His shoulders tighten as he recalls yesterday, surprised because they hadn’t seen each other at all, one of the rare days where their schedules didn’t line up. It was the first time in months they’d gone longer than thirty-six hours without seeing each other. Sure, they’d talked on the phone while Steve worked, but it’s not the same.

“I know,” Steve laughs, clocking Eddie’s confusion. “I thought about you all day. Couldn’t stop, no matter how hard I tried. Robin had to work with the customers because all I kept thinking about was tonight. If you’d get here before Robin, so we could sit out by the pool and smoke. Where we’d sit for the movie and if we’d get to share the popcorn bucket. If you’d pick a movie I hadn’t seen, so you’d lean in close and tell me a million random facts, even when you know I don’t really get it. But I just like when you’re close, next to me, and–” he hesitates– “I think that’s why you do it.”

Steve lifts their joined hands, wiping a tear from his eye using the back of Eddie’s knuckles. He returns the gesture, wiping what Eddie’s guessing is a mix of tears and snot off of his own face with Steve’s sleeve. 

“I think you lean in because you want to be close to me, too, and you don’t actually care about the movie either. Eddie, I think you ask for my help because you trust me in a way only Robin does. You give me cute nicknames like ‘sweetheart’ and ‘pretty boy’ because you’re teasing me, but I think it’s mostly because you really mean it.” Steve’s stepped closer now, and Eddie can feel the warmth of shared air between their gasping breaths. 

“I think you tease me and lean into me because you want my attention,” Steve whispers, brushing his nose alongside Eddie’s as their foreheads touch. “But Eddie, you’ve always had my attention.”

Eddie surges forward, capturing Steve’s tear-soaked lips between his own in what has to be the snotiest kiss either of them has ever had. But he doesn’t care. How could he? Eddie’s kissing the man he’s been in love with for almost eight months. 

Steve drops Eddie’s hands in favor of running one through his dark curls, while the other grips tightly at his waist. He can’t help but cup Steve’s cheeks, running a gentle thumb along his cheekbones. 

It’s soft and messy and everything he’s ever hoped for, because Steve Harrington is his everything, and he’ll do anything to keep him. Right now, he doesn’t have to worry about what they’ll tell their friends, or how they’ll explain this to Nancy, or even if Robin’s listening behind the door– he’s sure she is. No, right now, he lets himself bask in the glow of Steve’s love and soak in the comfort that Steve feels loved in return.

[yandere-sins]

Stuck in the Nightmare

I really had to think about this prompt because what nightmare could be made worse by a small change? And then I remembered my Obey Me! Phase and how unsettling Barbatos always was to me. And I realized what I had to do.

Fandom: Obey Me! Pairings: Yandere!Barbatos x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Minor Sexual Content (Consensual Groping and Fondling, Mentioning of Sex) Forced Captivity, Abuse of power, Magical Stockholm Syndrom, Mention of breaking a darling, Depiction of feeling sick Prompt: @sintember Horrifying concept, thank you - A small change in the world could be a nightmare.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Good morning, Dear."

Your lips curled into a sleepy smile as you felt Barbatos' lips press against your forehead, a kiss so tender it made you long for more. "Morning," you sighed blissfully, prying an eye open to see your boyfriend in all the glory of the morning sunlight shining through the window.

Moving aside, you made room in the bed for him to climb in, and you wasted no time sinking into his open embrace like you did every morning. No words were needed to speak about the happiness and love you felt when you were wrapped in Barbatos's arms, his time so precious, yet he spent every free second of it with you. And you reciprocated his affection as best as you could, squeezing your demon boyfriend until he chuckled about your efforts while you slowly worked your kisses up his throat and to his mouth.

Life's been better since you got to know him. Since you fell in love. Even if you had to spend most of the day apart due to his work, you were never happier waiting for someone to return to you. Barbatos was worth every minute of boredom, every hour of loneliness. He gave back thrice as much as you lost, wondering when he'd be home that night. Thrice as much effort, thrice as much care, and thrice the amount of true, unashamed love and adoration he held for you that you could never expect from a mere human. Although strange, you were thankful for your boyfriend being a demon, never once worried about all the implications it bore.

"What day is it?" you yawned loudly before nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. Barbatos brushed his hand over your hair, ever so slightly pressing you against him harder, showing you once again that he wanted you close to him just as much as you, him.

"Sunday, Love. Although it pains me, I'll be busy again today."

His embrace tightened around you a bit further, and it pained you to know how awful he felt about the fact he was too important to get even a single day off. Sometimes you cursed his employer, but Barbatos, gracious as he was, told you how much he cared about the prince you had heard so much about—good and bad. That he was grateful to be the right-hand man of such a great demon. You didn't really get it, but if it made him happy, you wanted to support him, no matter what. Even when it was the last day before you'd have to go back to work, too, and you'd rather spend it with him fully than to miss him like you had all weekend long.

Squeezing him back encouragingly, you nodded into his chest before releasing a long, content breath. "It's fine," you told him, rubbing his back as you felt the tension build in his body from your reply.

"I'm really sorry—”

"It's fine, Barbs. I know this is important to you, and I'm not running away. I'll stay inside today anyway since we're not in the human world, and I have this really good book I want to finish! And we can have dinner together or go star-gazing when you get home!

Immediately upon hearing your reassurance, Barbatos let out a shuddering breath. "I can't hide anything from you. Thank you for being so understanding."

"Of course!" Letting your head fall back, you caught his gaze, so full of tenderness and love, and felt your heart swell with the same wave of emotions. The kiss you shared was worth more than any confession and any thanks—mutual understanding, trust, a silent vow.

His hands brushed down your body, over the curve of your butt, giving it a squeeze that made you giggle against his lips. You gently scolded him for getting frisky with you before he had to leave. Barbatos couldn't help the playfulness in his voice as he promised, "I'll make it up to you and get your favorite food for you before I get to have a taste of my favorite thing in the world."

"Oh, you," you retorted, but the fake annoyance was quickly diminished by another kiss, your bodies heating up wherever they touched, making it harder and harder to get away while stoking the desire inside of you.

"I really got to go," Barbatos huffed against your lips, and you hesitated before pushing on his chest to separate you both.

"Then off with you, stop seducing me in broad daylight!"

He realized you were just joking around with him, yet, with another yearning glance, he briefly pecked your lips before tearing away, leaving an uncomfortable cold where he laid.

"I'll hurry," he assured you, and you smiled, sitting up in the bed. Truthfully, you already missed him, but you knew it was important to him, and so it was important to you.

"I know, don't worry about me."

"Thank you, Love."

With one last kiss to your forehead, Barbatos grabbed his coat on the way out, waving at you with an almost boyish grin. It was a side only you got to see, a side no one would expect from mysterious Barbatos. The real, vulnerable him, he could only show you. It made you feel special. You were special.

"I love you!" you yelled after him, and before he closed the door, he stuck his head through once more, beaming.

"I love you, too."

With that, he was gone, and you were alone in his home. Falling back into the cushions, you pulled the blanket and pillows around you, still faintly smelling Barbatos on them as they enveloped you in warmth.

Who would have thought you could love someone so much, especially someone not human? Sure, it sucked being stuck alone in the Devildom, but it would all be worth it when you got him all to yourself for the whole night again. A tingle went through your body, right to your core, where you still remembered the pleasure he had given you the night before. You could still recall the gentle, loving words he had whispered into your ear while, at the same time, making you see stars by probing and teasing the most sensitive spots on your body.

He wasn't just your boyfriend you doubted you deserved; Barbatos was also a lover beyond any imagination. Thrashing in the sheets, you couldn't believe your luck that someone like Barbatos loved you. That someone so amazing, wonderful, caring, and loving was yours. Because that's what he liked to call himself.

Yours.

All yours, with body and mind, for all eternity, devoted and reverently.

Your eyes filled up as the happiness overwhelmed you, the worries and agony of the past almost forgotten in the warm sunlight of the Devildom. Barbatos told you to stay indoors unless he was with you, and you couldn't wait for the day he'd take you outside and show you his city in all its beauty. Surely, with him by your side, nothing bad would happen to you, and you two would have the most exquisite experiences.

But that was a thing for another weekend.

Today would be a wonderful day of reading and waiting. Waiting for your Barbatos to return.

Slipping out of bed, you reached for the book on your nightstand, only for your fingers to hit the wood instead of the soft cover. "Strange..." you mumbled, vividly remembering putting the book right there on the nightstand. Or did you? Why did you remember reading in it before going to bed when it wasn't there?

Did you read it?

Looking over to the coffee table, you found your book sitting there. You suddenly remembered how you were reading on the couch the night before, then Barbatos coming home and taking you to bed after you had your favorite food.

"And I was reading on the couch because... it was Sunday. Huh?"

Didn't Barbatos say today was Sunday? You usually read your book in bed throughout the week, one chapter before bed being your credo. Taking the book over to the couch was something you only did on Sundays when you had no commitments and could fully concentrate on reading.

But why did you remember putting the book on your nightstand and reading it all day yesterday at the same time? That wasn't possible. Your own memories were betraying you!

"Ow!" a sudden, sharp pain rattled in your brain as you tried to make sense of your thoughts. It made you clutch your head as you collapsed on the bed, pulling in your legs as the pain began to overwhelm you. Something was wrong! You had to call Barbatos; call for help!

But you couldn't move as images flashed before your eyes, images of you laughing with your boyfriend, reading, having your favorite food. Again and again and again. The image of you putting the book on your nightstand was the most off-putting but real one you saw. You had no idea what was going on, but it hurt terribly. You couldn't even open your eyes from the pain, so all you could do was pray.

Barbatos's name was the last thing falling from your lips as you were knocked out by your own thoughts—your own memories. Memories of many days having passed by, all of them the exact same. And they haunted you, even in your dreams, with no chance of waking up without the man who loved you to shake you awake. Telling you everything was okay and it was just a bad dream.

Stuck in your own nightmares, never knowing you had been for a long, long time.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"The how-many-Sunday is it today?"

"I'm sorry?" Barbatos looked up from the teacup he was pouring, only to find Diavolo watching him from beyond the rim of the report he was holding. The prince's eyes were sharp, almost unamused in how they scrutinized his butler.

"You heard me." Lowering the paper, Diavolo made space for the tea to be served, which Barbatos did without hesitation. "This new exchange student project is based on trust with the other races. How can I explain why I let my butler keep his personal human toy in a constant time loop, locked up forever in my castle, while I preach about harmony and equality? And besides, don't you think they need some time in the real sun for once? I heard it's bad for humans to be cooped up for so long. Longer than possible with their physic, at least."

"Young Master, you are mistaken. The human is my partner, we love each other. Nothing as sinister as you are hinting at is happening."

"Then why repeat the same day over and over? Do you really think I wouldn't know what the constant thrumming of magic in the room I have given you on your request to 'educate the staff' is? I'd wager to say we've known each other long enough to know about each other's dirty secrets, Barbatos."

Standing before him, Barbatos maintained his perfect posture and pristine look, paired with a smile on his face, as he watched his master sip from the tea he had prepared. "Very well, my lord. You are not entirely mistaken, although I must say..."

Tapping his chin thoughtfully, Barbatos pretended to think about something before the smile returned to his lips. A smile said more than a thousand words, and although he only wanted you to see his, Barbatos had to keep up the front.

"If we are talking about preferential treatment, shouldn't you be the first one to give up on their highness, the consort that none of your subjects know about? I feel unfairly judged, considering my amusement loves and adores me, while yours plays the part but fears you. Don't you think we'd be better off keeping these two our own responsibility?"

Diavolo's glare was deafening as the room fell into silence. He'd expected the blowback, although his concern for Barbatos's darling was justified after his own experiences. Lowering the teacup, he sighed, giving a short nod of defeat. A wise ruler knew when to back down, and although the circumstances hadn't been ideal, his beloved was the reason he wanted to unite the races in the first place

"Very well, I won't nag you," Diavolo announced. "Just make sure they don't realize the time loop, or else you know the mess it will cause. We've been through this. Sometimes, it's better not to pretend the world is fine. If they truly love you as you say, they'll love you regardless, even when they realize that the love of a demon can be overwhelming."

"61685."

"Hm?"

"That's how many days they've loved me. I loved them. This time, I won't fail my duties, Young Master. At least, not how I have to you."

Barbatos bowed, as Diavolo couldn't help the sad smile flitting over his face, remembering the wonderful days when his darling had still adored him, never knowing they were stuck in a repeat.

"Then, be careful, Barbatos. One small mistake, and they'll realize nothing was ever real. You better not fail... for their sake."

Taking the advice of the experienced prince, Barbatos returned to his righteous posture, smiling as if the conversation had been petty small talk. The life of a demon was long—it was longer when they were alone. But now that he had you, he'd never have to suffer the same loneliness that had driven so many of his kin mad.

"I will, Young Master. Thank you for the advice."

He didn't pity Diavolo, who had long lost his heart to the most pitiful of creatures—a human who realized the true monstrosity beneath the prince's forced gentleness. But Barbatos wouldn't let it come to this a second time. Wouldn't make the same mistake Diavolo had, misplacing one item which managed to break the spell. He had been too careful, too precise this time.

He wouldn't lose you to such a small mistake, and even if he did...

He'd keep you forever, even if that meant breaking your soul into a thousand pieces until only his love could keep you together.

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Hi I really love your writing! Not sure if you are taking any prompts, no worries if not!

I was wondering if you could something with Melissa x reader similar to Janine and Gregory where they both work at the school and maybe the reader is dating someone but they have a moment like the club scene or PECSA weekend.

Hope you're having a good day lovely human!

Not dead! Nor have I given up on writing or filling the prompts I still have to fill! But a weird thing did happen - I went to a hypnotist show with friends thinking I wouldn't be affected... Long story short, I remember the first fifteen minutes of the show. Apparently, I was in the show for the rest of it. So that was a thing. But that's not the weird thing. The hypnotist said that a side effect of his hypnosis is often a better ability to focus, a quieter mind and less anxious thoughts. I have to hand it to the man, his words seem to be true. An unexpected side effect of this for me though is that it turns out the noise and chatter in my mind actually helps me write my fics. Now it's all a bit quiet in there and it's been hard to get the words out. But, that doesn't mean I don't still love writing - so we're pushing through.

I do have a confession though - this story has two prompts noted at the top of it in my drafts and although I can't find any evidence that I've posted it under either prompt, if I have already posted this and somehow have missed it, please let me know and I shall take the duplicate down.

Anyway, enough about me. Enough rambling. I hope you enjoy!

*~*

It would be easier if she wasn’t nice to you. 

If she wasn’t nice to you, she could just be the untouchable, hot as hell, fiery goddess you admired from afar. 

But no.  She let you sit with her and Barb at lunch.  She even brought you lunch after a few conversations had strayed into discussing cooking and favourite recipes during said lunch breaks.

How were you meant to get over your ridiculous crush when she actually gave you the time of day?  When she smiled like that?  When her whole face lit up and she gestured so animatedly when she got caught up talking about something?

And as if that wasn’t enough, how were you ever meant to recover after seeing her so soft with her students?  Going out of her way to open up to them and help them. 

It was ridiculous, though.  You knew that.  What good was ever going to come of it? 

Kid.  That’s what she calls you.  It’s a constant reminder of the age gap between you.  Of the chasm that you feel you can’t even begin to cross when she sees you as some eager little kid.

You’ve always had a thing for older women.  From those early, confused days of watching your on-screen idols, to realising you didn’t want to be them.  You didn’t want to be friends with them.  You just wanted them. 

You want one in particular, but as you look across at her, her red hair ablaze in the sunshine, you force those feelings down once more.  If friendship is what she’s offering you’re not about to beat her with that olive branch.  You’ll deem yourself lucky and move on.

Even if she has ruined you for anyone else. 

*~*

“You know,” drawled Barbara.  “It’s beginning to become a habit.”

“What is?” asked Melissa, turning to face her friend with a frown. 

“Staring at her,” said the older woman, eyebrow raised. 

The red head scoffs.  “As if.  I don’t know what you think you’re seeing but that ain’t it.”

*

It was all said in jest to begin with.  Gentle teasing about a few wayward glances.  That was until Barb started to see her best friend be genuinely nice to you. 

To begin with, she tolerated you.  You weren’t one of the eager little puppies she so often saw when it came to younger new hires.  That much was evident from the start.  You were an old soul.  You carried a different energy. 

One that Melissa apparently appreciated just as much as the view.  Barb stood beside her the red head as they watched over the kids leaving school, keeping an eye on the them as they left for the day, making their way to busses, rides or parents.  Or rather, Barb was keeping watch over the children.  A quick glance at Melissa confirmed that her attention was directed at you where you stood a little way off, chatting happily with a young girl about the book she was waving at you as she waited for her mother to collect her. 

“Girl…”

“Don’t,” sighed Melissa, crossing her arms across her chest. 

That took Barb by surprise.  She had expected the red head to deny it.  “You mean?”

“It’s stupid.  She’s some pretty young thing and I’m…older than I care to admit.”

Turning to look at her friend, her expression sad, the older woman reached out and placed a comforting hand on the other woman’s arm.  “And?  What’s it called?  A Spring, Winter romance?”

“May, December,” corrected Melissa automatically.  “But same thing.”

“Exactly” said Barb.  “There’s a name for it and everything.  It’s a thing.”

“It’s not a thing,” huffed the red head, turning on her heel and heading back into the building.  “It’s stupid and I’ll get over it, just like I do everything else in my life.”

*~*

You’re not sure you’re entirely on board for PECSA. 

Out of school, things are different.  Lines are blurred and you’re seeing a whole different side to your colleagues.  You’re not sure if it’s liberating or terrifying.  And that’s before you add in the factor of the other teachers who have also been set free from the constraints of the classroom and are now loose in the wild.

You’re sure your confusion must show on your face, particularly when at the end of one of the breakout sessions you find yourself caught up in conversation with a striking older woman who teaches at another school across town.

You don’t see Melissa at first, who watches the interaction with interest.  She’s not used to seeing you outside of school, and it takes her back to realise that the woman is flirting with you.  Openly and blatantly flirting with you.  She’s touching your arm, leaning into you.  Smiling and laughing. 

In return, you know you’re blushing something terrible, especially when the woman hands you a page from her notebook with her number scrawled across it.  Watching the woman walk away, throwing you a smile over her shoulder to you, you finally see the red head standing in the doorway where she said she’d meet you so you could head for lunch together.

“She not a bit old for you?” she asks as you approach, your blush still heating your cheeks.

You frown.  “If she looks like that and thinks I’m hot enough to give me her number, they’re the numbers I’m interested in,” you reply, heading in the direction of the lunch buffet. 

Barb overhears the comment, unable not to smirk at your flash of sass.  “Jealous?” she asks, leaning into the red head’s space. 

“Of what?” barks Melissa, crossing her arms across her chest as she watches you go.  “Oh leave off!” she snarks at the older woman’s raised eyebrow.

*

How the day has gone from serious talks and breakout sessions to cocktails by the pool you’re still trying to wrap your head around.  Adjusting your cover up, you head around the side of the pool, heading for the bar.  You hope the day starts to feel a little bit more normal with a drink in your hand. 

Gazing out over the water, you catch sight of Melissa.  Or rather, you catch sight of a lot more of Melissa than you’ve ever had the privilege of seeing before.  Not looking where you’re walking as your eyes drink in the magnificent view there’s no saving yourself as you step forward and your foot finds water instead of concrete.

“Is that?” Melissa asks incredulously at the dramatic splash that comes from the other side of the pool.  She’s up out of her lounger before Barb can comment and the older teacher can only watch on in amusement as the red head storms off in your direction. 

You pull yourself out of the pool, allowing yourself to perch on the edge as you try your best to ignore the chuckles of those around you who have noticed your mishap. 

“What the fuck happened?”

You look up and of course Melissa is there.  Right there, lit up in the sun like an angel, red hair haloed around her head.  It takes a moment to realise that her eyes are roving over you, and not just your face.  You glance down where your cover up now clings to your skin, almost see through. 

Looking up you see Melissa blink rapidly a few times before offering you a hand.  You reach for her, smiling as she helps pull you to your feet.  “Thanks,” you smile sheepishly.  “I guess I should go change.”

“It’s a pool, you’re allowed to be a little wet,” the red head smirks back at you.  “Besides, we’re this close to the bar now, be rude not to take advantage.”

*

Melissa appears at the bar next to you with a huff, grumbling under her breath.  Her attention is focused on trying to get the attention of the barman.  Mumbling though she is, she’s speaking just loud enough for you to make out what she was saying. 

“He was an ass,” you tell her, watching as her head whipped around, finally realising you were there. 

“What?” she asks with a frown, already tipsy. 

“Your ex,” you enlighten her.  You may not have heard the comment that led to her current dip in mood, or ever have met the man, but you know enough.

Her frown only deepens.  “You don’t know a thing about him.”

“I know he didn’t appreciate what he had and left you,” you offer, ordering a drink when the barman appears in front of you, before turning back to Melissa to ask what she wants.  You find her looking at you oddly, her expression unreadable.  She quickly snaps out of it and barks and order at the bartender.

*

Barb has had more than a few drinks, it would appear as she flags you down to sit with her as you pass her table. 

“Sit, sit,” she smiles, trying to reach for your arm and push the chair out next to her at the same time in an uncoordinated matter. 

Catching her hands, you still her as you slide into the seat beside her to placate her.  Her gaze is a little unfocused, her words edging towards slurred.  You hadn’t quite realised how drunk she was, but then again, looking around the room, it would have been more of a surprise for her to be sober. 

“Don’t call that woman,” she tells you, leaning into your space.

“What woman?” you frown.

“That woman who gave you her number,” says Barbara like it’s obvious. 

You try not to think about the fact that for Barb to know, Melissa must have mentioned it.  That it’s been on her mind enough to mention it to the older woman.  “Why not?”

“She wouldn’t like it.”

“She gave me her number,” you point out.  “I don’t think she would mind.”

Barb shakes her head.  “Not her.  Her,” she says, nodding across the room to where Melissa is standing. 

You cross your arms across your chest.  “What has Melissa got to do with anything?”

Barb raises a single eyebrow, the action still smooth and effective despite her drunkenness and it makes you blush. 

Averting your gaze, you shake your head.  “It doesn’t matter what I feel,” you sigh.  “She’s not…She thinks I’m some stupid kid.”

What you don’t see, is Melissa standing close enough behind your chair to catch your words.

*

Somewhere after speaking to Barb you decide that trying to be the sober parent of your little Abbott family just isn’t working.  You’ve lost track of most of them, and honestly, you’ve given up trying to find them.  They’re all adults and can fend for themselves.

You still have eyes on Barb and Melissa though, the former dancing up a storm and the latter apparently winning an ill-advised drinking competition. 

Not that you can judge, of course.  You know you’ve drunk more than you should, feeling pleasantly buzzed from your seat in the corner of the bar.  You should call it a night before you do something you’ll regret, like call the woman Barbara told you not to.  Sober, you wouldn’t.  Drunk, you’re flattered enough and wouldn’t say no to the company. 

With a sigh, you push yourself up out of your seat and head towards the elevators.  Pushing the button, you watch the numbers light up as the lift descends.  You squeak in surprise when a strong pair of hands land on your hips, turning you around as a plump pair of lips meet you own.

“I don’t think you’re some stupid kid.”

You blink slowly a few times, taking in the woman before you.  Melissa.  Melissa Schemmenti just kissed you.  You shouldn’t, but you don’t have it in you to deny yourself the pleasure of feeling her lips against yours once more.  You kiss her back with enthusiasm, not protesting when she backs you into the elevator as it opens and moaning as your back hits the wall of the small metallic box, the weight of Melissa pressed against you. 

You’ve always admired her curves.  Pressed against you they’re a dream. 

The clearing of a throat far to close snaps you out of your living dream and you feel Melissa take a step back, biting her lip as she guiltily throws a glance over her shoulder, registering Barb standing in the elevator, her back to you both as if she hasn’t just witnessed exactly what you were both doing. 

Standing close, you grin at the devious smirk being aimed your way by a certain red head.  There’s a dangerous glimmer of mischief in her eyes.  Smudged lipstick and mussed hair from where you hands couldn’t help but run thought it complete the look.  The woman is a work of art. 

You look up as the elevator doors chime open, realising this is your floor.  Stepping forward, you slip past Barb, who merely raises an eyebrow.  You throw a look back at Melissa, who sways forward as though to follow you, before hesitating. 

The doors slide shut, and honestly, it’s probably for the best.

You miss the dark chuckle Barb lets out as the lift begins to ascend once more.

“What you laughing at?” asks Melissa, scowling.  She’s annoyed with herself for hesitating.  She knows what she wants, and she just let it walk out of the elevator.

“You two think you’re subtle?” the older woman drawls.  “She has more of your lipstick on than you do.”

*

If PECSA was party central the night before, it was hangover central the morning after.  You’re sitting outside on the low wall, sunglasses firmly in place, your phone in one hand and a bottle of water in the other as you take in the cool morning air. 

“You regret what happened last night?”

You turn to see Melissa, similarly attired.  “What?”

She comes to stand beside the wall on which you’re sat, her gaze wandering anywhere but you as she speaks.  “I came to your room last night.  You didn’t answer.”

“I didn’t hear you,” you admit, watching as her head whips around.  “Too busy throwing up everything I ever drank.”  You feel the blush dusting your cheeks, but continue.  This feels too important to let a little embarrassment stop you.  You take off your sunglasses so she can see your face as you speak,  “I have many regrets about my choices last night, but what happened in the elevator isn’t one of them.”

A slow smile spreads across her lips as she shifts to take a seat next to you.  She slips her own sunglasses off, finally letting you see her eyes.  “Good to know,” she murmurs.  “Me neither.”

You can’t help but smile at that.  You notice her gaze wandering and realise she staring at the phone still clutched in your hand. 

“You planning on using that number you were so interested in yesterday?”

“Honestly?” you ask, seeing the uncertainty in her face as she nods regardless.  “That woman was hot, and while I was more than a little flattered she gave me her number…she isn’t a patch on you.”

Pale cheeks blush adorably pink at your words.  Melissa isn’t used to hearing things like what from you.

“Don’t look so surprised,” you scoff, nudging her shoulder.  “You’ve seen yourself in a mirror, right?  And you needn’t think I go falling in pools over every pretty woman I see.”

“I really distracted you that badly, huh?” she asks, a little of her confidence returning.

You bump her shoulder with yours once more.  “Shut up.”

A gentle hand moves to cup your cheek, turning you to face her as Melissa presses a gentle kiss to your lips.  “For the record,” she says quietly.  “I don’t think you’re some stupid little kid.  I think you’re beautiful.”

You take in a shuddering breath.  It all feels too good to be true.  “What happens at PECSA stays at PECSA?” you ask sadly.

“I’ve never been one for playing by the rules,” she smirks back at you, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before pushing herself to her feet and offering a hand to you.  “Come on, we gotta go find Barb.  Reunite her with her shoes, sobriety and sanity.”

You take the hand being offered like a lifeline, grinning as Melissa starts walking, swinging your joined hands between you.  It’s only as you pass through the front doors to the building that her words even register.  “Wait?  Her shoes?”

[wynnyfryd]

hey, quick question but what if Eddie hadn’t just said “make him pay” at the end? what if he’d actually done it, screwed up his face and his single scrap of courage and kissed Steve hard, one desperate press of lips before he stepped back out of Steve’s space? Only…

Only Steve’s not gay. He’s not. Not that there’s anything wrong with it if Eddie is, but he isn’t. Steve likes girls, is kind of hung up on one girl in particular, actually, and she’s standing right behind him watching this go down, and oh, God is this awkward now.

He squares his shoulders, gives Eddie a nod that he hopes conveys something like “sorry” and “it’s okay” and “I’m not gonna punch you when this is over, man, I’m really not,” but Eddie’s eyes cut away and he clears his throat and then Nancy’s saying, “Steve? Steve, we need to go.”

So Steve goes.

Steve goes, trudges through the woods with Nancy radiating uncomfortable energy all down his side, and Steve’s got a pit in his stomach and a scorch mark on his mouth where Eddie’s lips left a fucking brand, the kiss repeating on a loop in his mind. He starts thinking about how he’s probably about to die, how he’s gonna die feeling all upside down in the Upside Down and it’s a really stupid joke but it gets him mulling over the fucked up weird life he has now versus the one he always kinda thought he wanted. He tells Nancy about it: the crawling backwards, the thump on the head, how she’s always his co-captain in his Winnebago dreams.

She looks at him with soft, sad eyes — God, her eyes are always so sad, have been ever since the day Barb disappeared — and she rests a delicate hand on his forearm and asks, “Do you think… do you think maybe it’s always me in your dream because I’m the only person your mind thinks it’s allowed to put there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Steve.” Her eyes aren’t so soft now. They’re shining with that hard glint they get when she’s lost patience with Steve’s bullshit. It’s a look Steve knows well, and his hand comes up to touch his lips.

“But I- I’m not…”

“Just go,” she says, her jaw set, all that unbreakable resolve on display. “Robin and I can handle this. Go.”

Robin turns back to look at him over her shoulder, gives him an encouraging nod, and Steve takes off running, sprinting through the trees, following the sound of screeching bats.

When he bursts through the treeline, panting and sweating and clutching at his torn-up sides, Eddie’s in the middle of a maelstrom, his makeshift shield held in a shaking grip as an army of bats encircle him.

“Eddie!” Steve shouts, lungs burning as he begs his feet to move faster, to run fucking run because one of the bats dives at Eddie’s head and another takes a bite out of his leather sleeve; a third one whips a tail around Eddie’s ankle and then Eddie’s going down, pulled to the cracked, filthy earth by gnashing teeth and bloodied claws, and they’re eating him, getting at all those squishy vital bits around his middle when Steve finally hacks his way through the horde to get to Eddie’s side. Armed with an ax and Eddie’s spear, Steve strikes and slashes blindly at the wall of shrieking monsters as they start circling tighter, caging them in, and he’s dead they’re both dead they’re so fucking screwed—

The bats drop. All at once and with no reason Steve can discern, their screams fall silent and their bodies squelch all around them as they slap the hard ground like dead fish on a dock.

Steve drops to his knees beside Eddie, and Jesus Christ, there’s- there’s so much blood oh God oh fuck.

“Bad, huh?” Eddie asks, and how is he still smirking when there’s blood spilling out of his mouth? When there’s a chunk missing out of his jaw?

“Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ,” Steve mumbles frantically, not sure if he’s praying or panicking or both. He gets his shirt off, rips at the remaining scraps of Eddie’s, too; starts using them to make bandages. “Shit, Eddie, just- just hold on, okay? Stay with me.”

He wriggles a scrap of fabric under Eddie’s brutalized torso, and Eddie screams when Steve pulls it tight around his sides, ties it off and presses down, trying to slow the bleeding. There’s so much fucking blood. His knees slip in it as he ties a tourniquet just above Eddie’s elbow, hoping it’ll save Eddie’s mangled arm, and he bunches the last of the fabric up and presses it to the shredded edges of the wound on Eddie’s face.

Eddie smiles up at him with tears in his eyes, with blood on his lips. “Pretty- pretty grand gesture for a guy you don’t want to kiss.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve says, and he’s crying, too. “I don’t- I just…”

“Steve,” Eddie chokes, his breath whistling out with a sickening wheeze, and Steve doesn’t know how the fuck he’s going to get him through the gate and back to safety without making him bleed out. “Steve, it’s… s’okay. M’sorry I kissed you, man.” His eyes are glazing over, and no, please, please, don’t—

Eddie looks up at him, brow furrowed, like it’s taking a lot of effort. His eyes are still so pretty, even now, as Steve hovers helplessly and watches the light slowly leave them. “Actually, I- I guess m’not,” Eddie slurs. “Had to do it at least once b-before I- before I—”

“EDDIE!!!!” a furious, cracking voice echoes through the empty park. Eddie’s trailer door bangs open, falling off its hinges, and a limping Dustin Henderson comes storming across the lot.

“Dustin!!” Steve hollers back, relief flooding his veins like maple syrup straight from the tap, and incredibly (hysterically, he’s probably in shock), he’s laughing when he looks back down at Eddie. Eddie, who’s half dead in his lap, whose blood is all over Steve’s pants. Who Steve might be able to save now.

He shakes Eddie’s shoulders and says, “You can kiss me all you want when we make it out of here, man,” his voice all high-pitched and full of phlegm and trapped somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and Eddie’s eyes go wide at the promise in Steve’s words.

“Dustin!” Steve yells again, pleading, “Dustin, come on, come help me move him!”

It’s slow going, but they get Eddie through the gate, get him taped up so he’s more bandage than boy by the time the ambulance arrives. A medic claps Steve on the shoulder and says ‘You did good, kid,’ and Steve cries at that and then spends an annoying amount of time crying over the next few days, curled up in a rickety chair at Eddie’s bedside in the hospital.

More tears when Eddie finally wakes up. Happy ones this time, and there’s a parade of people coming in to hug Eddie and give him flowers and even Hopper gives him a grudging hair ruffle and an attaboy, and then Steve’s driving Eddie home in the Beemer; gets all the way to the driveway before Eddie brings it up.

“Did you mean it?” he asks, his voice timid and barely audible over the hum of the car.

Steve cuts the engine. “Hmm?”

“Did you, um- the thing, that you…” Eddie spins a ring around on his finger, lets out a frustrated huff. “I mean, I didn’t die, right? I made it out of there, so…?”

You can kiss me all you want when we make it out of here.

Steve’s ears burn at the memory, his mouth going dry, and he must take too long to answer because Eddie starts trying to backpedal. “Sorry. Sorry, you said you’re not— I just thought, maybe— shit, uh, f-forget I said-”

“No! No, um.” Steve scratches the back of his neck. “Turns out I kind of am. Or, like. Well, I mean, Robin said liking both is its own thing, it’s not a mix of the two, but…”

“…But both?” Eddie finishes, and his eyes are sparkling.

“Yeah. Both,” Steve shrugs. It’s getting easier to say. “…Mostly just you, though.”

“Oh, just mostly, huh?” Eddie teases, unbuckling his seatbelt so he can lean into Steve’s space.

Steve’s face feels too warm. His neck is probably all splotchy. “Whatever. Are you gonna shut up and kiss me already or what?”

“Uh huh,” Eddie grins and runs his tongue over his teeth. “Many times as I want, right?” He brushes Steve’s hair behind his ear, his calloused fingers so gentle against Steve’s jaw as he lines their faces up.

“How many times is that?” Steve whispers.

“Mm….” Eddie’s mouth brushes against his. “Start counting and let’s find out.”

[redvexillum]

Alastor baking you cookies because its your birthday and they come out tasting just like your grandmothers old recipe your family lost when she went missing. While you guys are eating them Rosie comes in and asks about them and he says he made this recipe when he was alive and stole a family cookbook from a victim he ate.

I was sleep deprived and totally misread your ask and added a lot of my own flair to this and ended up writing whatever this is. I almost followed your request to the tee - "almost" being the operative word. Basically I wrote smut. Don't ask me how. XOXO, RedVexi 💋

A/N: I am contemplating on a part two (plot heavy), but as it stands now, this is a one shot.

SUMMARY: Alastor, the love of your life with an insatiable need when it comes to your flesh.

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, fluff if you really squint super hard, alastor is in hell for a reason, blood kink, implied cannibalism, established relationship, possessive/obsessive love, p in v, love at first bite

You never imagined meeting the love of your life in Hell. The mere thought would have your family doing somersaults in their graves – if they weren’t already in Hell or Heaven themselves. Yet here you were, surrounded by the strange beauty of the underworld.  

Fireflies, glowing like tiny flickering embers, danced around you, their soft light wrapping you and your love in a shimmering embrace. The marshy grass beneath you sank under your weight, while tall, gnarled trees bent over, casting a long shadow in the dim light. The distant chorus of croaking frogs and chirping crickets echoed the bayou you loved when you were alive.  

It filled you with warmth that the demon – the man – you fell for shared that sentiment. The earthy, musky scent in the air brought back memories of summers spent trekking to your grandmama’s cottage. But those sweet memories quickly turned bitter as you recalled the last moments you had with her.  

“Focus on me, my dear,” came the crackling, layered voice of Alastor. His eyes, glowing red like the fires of Hell, burned into you. The sharp points of his claws traced a slow, deliberate path from your hip up to your sides, before he stretched his arms out to clasp your wrists. He brought your hands to frame your face, his imposing form looming over you.  

Your eyes roamed over his features, taking in the twitch of his big, fluffy ears atop his head each time your breath hitched. His large, unblinking eyes tracked every tremor, every shudder that wracked your body. Whereas the most intimidating feature of him, his teeth – his sharp, dangerous teeth – glistened with saliva as he trapped you beneath him, bare and vulnerable.  

Lowering his head, his grip around your wrists tightened as his tongue laved against the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He moaned in a depraved tone that would scandalize the ladies of your time. The sound he made was reminiscent of when he had a particularly delightful time eating a hunk of fresh Sinner’s meat in Cannibal Town.  

His hot tongue continued to suckle, as if trying to drink in the blood pumping quicker and quicker beneath the thin layer of your skin.  

Heat and pressure lanced through you, coursing down every nerve ending before igniting in your core. Your breath came out in louder gasps from each suck, urging Alastor to bring his hips closer to your aching centre until you couldn’t tell where you ended, and he began.  

“Mhm,” he hummed, “patience, darling,” he murmured, trailing kisses up your neck, leaving a cool trail along the edge of your chin before hovering close to your lips. “All good things must be savoured, love,” he grinned, as if the very word ‘love’ was the funniest joke he had ever heard in all layers of Hell.  

Stifling your whimper, you closed your eyes, trying to endure Alastor’s relentless teasing. Lovemaking with him was a torment of pleasure, his games designed to push you to the brink until your eyes watered from the unbearable barb of desire that prickled before sinking a thousand sharp claws into you.  

When you reached that pinnacle, sobbing for relief, Alastor’s red, intense eyes would nearly lose focus as he savoured your expression. He would then take you with a fervour as if it were his last act before his final breath.  

His love, if it could be described with one word, would be: voracious.  

His hands and body immobilized you, leaving you to writhe under the weight of his control and desires. He pressed the shaft of his hardened cock right up against the lips of your entrance. You almost cried, desperate to grind against him to relieve the pressure, the throbbing, the heat that built steadily inside you without any sign of granting you reprieve.  

A whimper escaped your lips, causing his ears to twitch, before he groaned against your sweat-slicked skin. His breath came in short bursts, his body trembling before he finally relented. Pressing, pressing, and pressing against your core, grinding and coating his cock with your essence.  

“Al-Alastor,” your voice, thin and wispy, barely made it past your throat, “p-please?” Your pleas didn’t fall on deaf ears. Alastor’s muscles seized, and he drew back, the grin on his face slowly splitting past his cheeks.  

“Please, what?” his lips curled with wicked delight as his eyes danced with amusement.  

Despite being with him for over half a century and sharing your body in an act of union for hundreds of nights and mornings, you could still feel the heat blistering your cheeks.  

Trembling, you fought against his grip around your wrists, but he pressed your arms down, letting the soft, marshy grass embrace your form. You wanted to embrace him, feel the warmth of his chest against yours, feel the thrum of his heartbeat pounding as he continued to ravage you.  

“Most improper, a lady must not act like some wanton whore in front of an unmarried man,” your grandmama’s voice echoed in your ears. Yet, despite both you and he being unmarried and sinning in front of the Lord by indulging in each other’s flesh, this was Hell. Here, propriety didn’t matter. Here, you could be true to your desires.  

“Please,” tears of uncontrolled shame pricked your eyes, “I want you, love.” Unlike the way Alastor said ‘love,’ your tongue wrapped around the word, caressing the sound as you infused it with every drop of your feelings that resided within your heart.  

You wondered if Alastor knew how much you meant to him. How much you truly loved him despite both being damned as cursed creatures.

Alastor shuddered an exhalation before his lips touched yours, sinking into your embrace. He melded with you, stretching you to make his presence known.  

A sharp yelp ripped away from your throat as Alastor increased his pace, his hips slapping against your core. The wet, sodden mud squelched beneath you, mingling perfectly with the sound of your bodies coming together over and over again.  

His hardened cock bruised the inside of you, each thrust making your body shudder. His forehead drifted lower to rest against your shoulder, the heat of his breath ghosting over your skin. His claws freed your wrists, now grasping your hips with a possessive intensity.

In and out. You moaned as your fingers found purchase on the back of his head, clutching his hair tightly. In and out. His cock slide with ease through your dripping arousal, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your core.

The sound of the artificial bayou melted away, replaced by the sounds of your keening and lovemaking. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and desire. Legs wrapping around his waist, you sobbed as his cock penetrated you, going deeper and deeper with each powerful stroke.

You were so close, the tension coiling tightly within you, and Alastor knew it. He growled like a feral animal, his grip tattooing your skin with the shape of his fingers. He doubled down, fucking you into the ground with relentless fury. His movements were uncontrolled, each thrust a testament to his desire, as he drove you toward the edge.

Your voice, broken in staccato, climbed higher and higher, your peak approaching at dizzying speed. With one particularly hard slam of his hips, your breath was knocked out of you. Head spinning with vertigo, your eyes rolled back as your spine arched upward as if a current of electricity shot through you.  

Your walls fluttered against the molten heat of his cock, clenching tightly around him, beckoning him to join you in release.  

Raising his head, his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. Warm breath tickled the sensitive nerve as he spoke, his words mingling with his breath. “How sweet your voice is, darling,” he murmured, grinding the front of his hips against your swollen, wet centre.  

“Al - t-too mu-mu-ah!” you managed to choke out before he jerked his hips, kissing the deepest part of you with the head of his cock.  

“Let me taste you, my sweetheart,” he groaned, his tongue licking the same spot he always gravitated towards. “I want to hear you scream my name.” 

If there was one thing that was peculiar with Alastor, it was that he could never finish unless he bit you, hard enough to draw blood, hard enough to drink your life’s vitality.

Soft moans filtered through your lips as you lolled your head to the side, like prey on its back, open and submissive. Your neck bared for him to bite you however he pleased. Still, the tremor continued to infect your nerves. No matter how many times he had done this, you couldn’t stop the quiet whimper from escaping as you fidgeted under him. 

“Shh,” he soothed quietly, his cock buried deep within you. “You know you love it when I make you feel this way. Just give into me, darling,” his tone pitched high as he tried to smother away his chuckles. “Let me hear you beg for it,” his words laced with a dark, sinister tone.  

His breath ghosted over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The sensation was a blend of ice and fire, each touch shooting liquid heat through your veins. You could feel every inch of him inside you, the deliberate, slow pace driving you to the brink of madness despite finishing first. Your body responded to his every move, arching into him, craving more.

Always, craving more.  

When his teeth finally sank into your flesh, the pain seared through you. But immediately after, it was followed by a wave of euphoria, a release so intense it squeezed the breath out from you. The contrasting sensations of pain and pleasure intertwined, and you responded by clenching around him tightly.  

Alastor’s grip punctured your skin, his hips moving with a renewed urgency. His growls of satisfaction reverberated through your body, a primal sound that echoed in your ears. You could feel the pull of his lips, the suction as he drew your blood, mingling with the heavy thump of your heartbeat pounding in your head.  

Your lips traced over the letter of his name over and over again. The thick scent of metal blended perfectly with the earthy scent of the bayou.  

Dizzying.

Intoxicating.

Addicting.

“My dear,” he moaned into your skin, “give me more,” his voice a long, drawn-out purr as his pace slowed. A loud exhalation accompanied the throbbing of his cock inside you. He poured into you, filling you to the brim while continuing to suck and consume your essence. 

As his hips slowed to a stop, he stayed buried within you, his tongue meticulously licking you clean of any crimson liquid that escaped your wound. Your eyes fluttered shut, your body going limp as you surrendered to Alastor’s ministrations, letting him savour the moment for as long as he desired.  

His lips remained affixed to your neck, drawing out every last drop, until his cock finally softened and slipped out of you.  

He slowly drew himself up, and you could see the faint stain of your blood shading his teeth as he grinned. Leaning his forehead against yours, he said, “Sweetheart,” in a southern drawl that reminded you of the people from your hometown from bygones past.  

A worm that continued to fester and grow inside you, feasting on your brain matter, squirmed its way through your thoughts. His tone was so familiar, like you’d heard it before, but the memory was shrouded by static, a white noise that covered what your mind was trying to recall.  

When his claws reached your cheek, you knew he was waiting to hear the words you always whispered after every intimate moment you shared.  

“I love you,” you said softly against his lips. He hummed in approval. He never said those words back, but you knew that men were taught to be stoic, as you had seen countless times while growing up.  

He chuckled lightly as he returned your kiss, the saltiness of your blood mingling with the taste of his tongue as it plunged into your mouth. He licked and massaged the sensitive walls inside you, each stroke sending a pleasant tingle down your spine. You felt a small twitch of his cock resting against your cum-soaked inner thighs. 

As he pulled away, his eyes softened, the fierce red glow dimming into a warm ember. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice taking on a rare tender tone. “I have a surprise for you.” 

A well of emotions burst from your heart, flooding you with warmth and gratitude. You showered him with kisses, your lips trailing over his own and across his cheeks. Each kiss was proof of your love, a silent thank you for remembering and cherishing your special day. Despite the passage of countless years, he had never once forgotten your birthday.  

He closed his eyes, his grin softening around the edge as he basked in your adoration. His hands stroked your side, soothing and comforting. The weight of his affection wrapped around you like a toasty warm blanket.  

At that moment, you felt completely and utterly cherished, every fibre of your being attuned to the demon who held your heart in his clawed hands.  

You sat on the chair, your nerves buzzing with excitement as Alastor sat across from you. He leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table and resting his chin against his hands. His grin widened, eyes squinting with a mischievous glint. Rolling his head slightly to the left, his right hand snapped his fingers. A plate of cookies appeared before you.  

You blinked once, then twice, in sheer disbelief. Alastor had cooked for you before, but as he wasn’t a fan of sweets, he had never once attempted to bake anything for you. The sight of the cookies made your cheeks flush with warmth, and giddy delight filled your heart.  

“Thank you, Al,” you beamed, your smile bright and sincere. You reached for the first cookie on the plate, noticing how it was baked to perfection. You giggled lightly as you weren’t surprised as Alastor did everything perfectly. There was nothing he couldn’t do.  

The rich smell of butter hit your nose first, and you muffled a squeal of delight as you recognized the familiar scents of nutmeg and cinnamon.  

You took the first bite, and your eyes widened. The crunch was perfect, and the taste of times long passed flooded your senses. Tears welled up as you slowly looked at the cookie now bearing your bite mark.  

It tasted like home.  

Gritting your teeth, you swallowed the bite along with your unshed tears.  

You took another bite. 

Memories surged forward – your grandmama stroking your head as you munched on her cookies. The memory was so vivid, you could almost feel her gentle touch.  

Another bite.  

The memory of her warm smile greeting you at the door, the comforting smell of cinnamon filling her cozy cottage.  

One final bite.  

The image of her packing cookies into your wicker basket to share with your family, knowing full well you would finish the rest as you walked through the bayou.  

Despite the intense desire to sob your eyes out, you chose to laugh instead, wanting to celebrate this moment with happiness and gratitude. You stared at Alastor, your heart swelling with so much love for the man who let you experience your most treasured memories with stark clarity. “Al, thank –” 

Your voice was cut off by a knock on Alastor’s door. It swung open to reveal one of Alastor’s very good friends, Rosie.

“Alastor!” Rosie exclaimed as she strolled in, her dainty fingers covering a giggle. “Oh, you’re with your sweetheart,” she said, her depthless eyes curved with amusement and her sharp white teeth glinted from the dim light. “I won’t take up too much of your time.” 

“Oh, nonsense, Rosie,” Alastor waved his hand, summoning a shadow tendril to drag your chair so you would be sitting right next to him. “Do stay for a chat! It is my sweetheart's birthday, after all! It’ll be a party!” He stretched his arms out theatrically, the room seeming to pulse with his infectious energy, making you laugh from his cute gesture. 

“Is it now?” Rosie’s face lit up with delight. “Happy birthday, sweetie.” 

You smiled brightly in response thanking her as Alastor snapped his fingers and another chair materialized by the table.

Rosie gracefully took a seat across from Alastor, looking down at the plate of cookies and tilting her head, confused. “Didn’t think you would change your taste for sweets now!” she remarked, leaning closer to inspect the cookies.  

Alastor’s hand naturally rested against the top of your thigh, his claws lightly grazing the sensitive skin. Though hidden beneath the table, his touch sent a wave of embarrassment blanketing your body, but you did nothing to push him away. His touch was a peculiar comfort, a reminder of his constant presence in your life.  

“Oh ho!” He laughed, his voice rich and resonant. “This is a gift for my sweetheart, and I daresay, it’s a hit!” 

Distracting yourself from Alastor’s claws slowly drifting closer and closer to your inner thighs, you nodded emphatically. “It’s really delicious!” You glanced over at Alastor, your eyes shining with genuine appreciation. “It’s probably the tastiest cookies I’ve eaten since coming down here!” 

“Oh, you lovebirds,” Rosie giggled as she teased lightly. She picked up a cookie, inspecting it with a curious tilt of her head. “Did you add some special meat into this?” she asked with a dark, mischievous smile.  

Your shoulders jolted up, a chill running down your spine as you looked at the plate of cookies. Alastor knew how you felt about eating other Sinners. He had reassured you time and time again that he wouldn’t push you to indulge in such a macabre practice.  

Alastor laughed boisterously, his hand still smoothing against the top of your thigh. “Oh, heavens no!” he exclaimed. You felt a wave of relief settle within you. “The recipe was from an elderly woman I’ve met in the bayou back when I was alive.” He snickered darkly, his hand climbing up closer to the apex of your thighs. “I wasn’t a fan of her taste, if you know what I mean.”  He waggled his brows, making it clear of the true meaning behind his words.

Rosie tittered in response and you... 

You froze.  

His words slowly sank into the depth of your mind. Your brows knitted together, the warmth that had previously suffused your chest turning icy. Dropping your hands, you grasped Alastor’s hand that was on you, a plea for stability, a plea that you heard wrong.  

“She had a cookbook, I believe it was called...” Alastor hummed, tapping his lips as his eyes rolled upward, trying to retrieve the lost information.  

“Cooking in the Bayou,” you whispered, the words slipping out involuntarily. It was a book your grandmama cherished, filled with recipes passed down from generation to generation. 

The sharp snap of his fingers shattered the frigid air, his smile morphing into a sinister grin before your very eyes. “That’s right!” he confirmed; his voice filled with eerie delight.  

He didn't ask how you knew the name of the cookbook.

The rest of Alastor’s and Rosie’s conversation drowned in your ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Alastor. Your gaze fixated on the plate of cookies as your stomach churned with nausea.  

His hand, heavy on your thigh, continued its ministrations, gentle strokes as he laughed and talked with Rosie.  

You were on autopilot, politely nodding and smiling, pretending to hear the words that came out of their lips. Yet, your mind buzzed with the same white noise that had plagued you for years, ever since you first heard Alastor’s southern drawl peeking out from beneath his radio-static filter.  

The static grew louder and louder, engulfing your thoughts until you felt as if you were entering a void. And then, as if tearing through the very fabric of your reality, the words that had been lurking in the shadows of your mind finally broke free. 

The pupae of truth that had writhed within your consciousness finally transformed, bursting through its thin membrane. Clarity washed over you, harsh and undeniable.  

Every fond memory, every tender moment, every laugh shared with him now felt like a cruel joke.  

Rosie’s laughter echoed hollowly in your ears, a distant and mocking sound. Alastor’s touch now felt like a brand, burning into your skin. The room seemed to spin around you, the walls closing in as the weight of the truth threatened to crush you.  

Alastor’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he continued his conversation, oblivious to the turmoil that was shredding apart your sanity. He turned his head to face you when he noticed you now openly staring at him. He smiled at you, his grip on your thigh tightening.  

Alastor was the man who had killed and eaten your grandmama. 

Alastor was the man who had killed you.  

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[rebelliousstories]

Ain’t That A Pretty Sight

Relationship: Cooper Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Brief Suggestive Themes, Drinking, Pregnancy

Word Count: 3,265

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Summary: This is the story of how Cooper fell in love with his wife again, Janey is really excited, and Barb makes this about her.

“Honey, I’m home!” There was silence as she stepped inside. The entire time that she had been living with the enigma of a man known as Cooper Howard, the house had never been silent. Setting down the bags of groceries in the kitchen, she left them in favor of looking for her husband. He was nowhere to be found on the first floor, even though the T.V. was still playing in the den. Moving up the stairs, she heard a noise, but could not confirm who was making it.

Checking in their room, she was disappointed to see it empty. But then she heard that same noise again, coming from the room across from theirs. Janey’s room. She made her way to her stepdaughter’s bedroom and pushed open the cracked door. Lying down on the floor with the young girl, was her husband. And in his hands, was a doll. It warmed her heart to see Cooper playing with his daughter, doing different voices for the dolls and what not. They were in their own little world for a while as she continued to watch them, but Janey looked up and caught her.

“Honey!” The young girl jumped up and ran to tackle the woman in a hug. Rolling, Cooper just watched his girls for a moment before he decided to get up. While honey was not the woman’s name, Janey still called her that after watching her dad do it so often.

“Have you been having fun, miss Janey?” She asked of her stepdaughter, not quite wanting to let the girl go yet. Janey was the first to pull away and nodded vigorously.

“Daddy has been playing with me the whole afternoon. It’s been fun.” Cooper finally made his way over to his wife to pull her in close. As Janey went back to her dolls, the Howard’s shared a loving kiss as they wrapped up each other in their arms.

“Hey honey. Was everything okay at the doctors?” He ran his hand up and down her back as he kept her close.

“Yeah. Just a little something I gotta discuss with you. But it can wait.” She reassured him, even though that look on his face said otherwise.

“I got to put the groceries away. Just wanted to see where you were.” Reluctantly, Cooper let us wife go back downstairs to do what she was doing, and went back to his daughter. His mind raced as he tried to think about what she could possibly be waiting to tell him.

Meanwhile downstairs, Mrs. Cooper was busy making dinner for that night. She was making enough for all three of them, even though she did not know when her husband’s ex-wife would be stopping by to pick up their daughter. Still, she wanted Janey to have enough to eat if she was going to be late. There was a full spread out on the table within the hour, and she was calling out for her husband and stepdaughter to join her in the dining room.

Eagerly, Janey began talking about her day with her dad. Becuase she had her doctor’s appointment and a few other errands to run, Cooper had thankfully taken the day off from work. It made everything a lot easier to flow throughout her day, especially the appointment. As they ate, her hand drifted over to Cooper’s as her nerves started to show. The later it got, the more she grew nervous.

A knock at the front door broke all of them out of their conversation. Cooper dismissed himself from the table, and went over to the door while she began to reengage Janey in the conversation. Hushed, clipped voices were heard from the front of the home, and footsteps followed shortly afterwards.

“Janey, your momma’s here.” Both girls at the table turned to where Cooper had reemerged with Barb next to him. Janey shot up out of her chair, much like she did earlier, and went to go hug her mom.

“Hi Barb.” She greeted, standing from her seat.

“Hello.” Barb’s voice was clipped as she spoke to the woman, which was not unusual for them. No matter how many times she tried to get along with Barb, for everybody’s sake, the woman refused to so much as give her a polite smile.

She sent a tight lipped grin to her husband, before beginning to clear the table. Plates were placed in the kitchen sink to take care of, as she heard the three other people in the house talking. Her hands and mind were kept occupied by the mundane task of cleaning the dishes from dinner as she did not want to intrude on their conversation. Small footsteps made their way into the kitchen and she turned to face Janey.

“Bye Honey.” The child said innocently, wrapping her arms around the woman sweetly.

“Oh, goodbye sugar cube. I’ll see you next week, okay?” She reassured, and only let go when Janey did. The girl left and went to her mom once more, who only stared at the woman still crouched with disdain.

Rising up, she waved them off while Cooper walked them out. Turning back to the dishes, she kept going about her routine while trying not to think too hard about Barb and her nature towards her. Finally she was able to place the dishes on the drying rack while hearing heavy footsteps grow closer. Arms wrapped around her waist while she was placing the last dish down.

“Now, ain’t that a gorgeous sight.” Cooper drawled, pressing himself against her back and resting his head on her shoulder.

“You’re just being partial.” She retorted, wiping her hands off and resting them on top of her husband’s.

“Want dessert?” She turned in his arms to face him with a smirk.

“Whatcha giving me?”

“Gin martini.”

“Well, then yes. I’d love dessert. Although I’d love it more if you were paired with the martini.” A husky whisper was placed in her ear right as she went to go leave.

“Mr. Howard!” She exclaimed, turning and looking at her husband with a shocked look on her face at his words. He just smiled innocently at her in return.

“What?” Cooper’s tone was so innocent, she was almost able to think that he did not mean anything by that comment. But the little smirk he gave her was enough to tell her that he knew exactly what he meant. Chuckling, she went over to their mini bar in the living room while Cooper made his way to the sofa. He patted his thighs as she neared with only one drink in hand.

“Thank you dalrin’. But where’s yours?” Cooper inquired while taking a sip of the drink his wife made for him.

“Not in the mood for a drink tonight.” She shrugged offhandedly. Cooper was confused and set the glass down on the table to wrap abound his wife.

“Alright now,” he started, “you told me earlier that you had something that could wait to talk about. You’re not having a drink even though I just bought a new thing of that grenadine that you love so much. So what’s going on?”

“Well, I wanted to tell you alone because I wasn’t sure how Janey would take it. Let me go grab something.” She pressed a kiss to his head as she hopped off of his lap. Rummaging around in her bag, she pulled out a little white envelope that held a very important piece of paper inside. Making her way back over, she sat in her husband’s lap once more, and gave the envelope to him. Cooper looked at the item in his hands with a skeptical glance before looking at his wife.

“Go on. Open it.” Her excited expression prompted the man to follow suit. His hands retracted the rest in between them and began to tear through the paper envelope. There was another piece of paper in the envelope that Cooper pulled out. He glanced at his wife before beginning to read the paper in his hands.

Her nail found its way to her mouth as she tried not to bite down nervously on her freshly done manicure. The longer she waited, the more doubt crept into her. What if he was upset? What if this forever changed them and they would never recover? Cooper’s jaw fell as he neared the edge of the page, and he finally looked at his wife. His knuckles were white as they gripped the paper.

“Is this real?” He whispered, eyes focused solely on hers. She nodded, and that was when life became a blur.

Cooper disregarded the sheet of paper and picked her up in his arms as he stood. The pure laughter that left his body as he held her close made her also laugh out of reflex. He spun them around, unable to contain his excitement over the news. Setting her down gently, Cooper grabbed his wife’s waist and pulled her in close to kiss her senseless. The only reason they separated was the lack of oxygen, and she was utterly stunned by the reaction from her husband.

“So, you’re happy?” She asked timidly. Her hands began to play with his shirt buttons while she dipped her head down. Gentle fingertips brought them back up, and now she was face to face with him again.

“I’m over the moon, darling. You’ve given me the most perfect gift I could have ever asked for. How far along?” Cooper ran his hands all over her midsection, unable to help himself.

“Eleven weeks. I want to wait before telling anyone else. I mean, if you want to tell Janey when we get her next week, we can. But everyone else can wait.” She patted his chest, and leaned in for a kiss. He greatly appreciated it, but pulled away fast.

“We’ve gotta set up a nursery.” Cooper suddenly proclaimed. She giggled at the eagerness of her husband and they spent the night talking about everyone for their little baby.

Almost two months later, it was once again their week with Janey. Telling the girl that she was going to become a big sister felt like a relief, and she was so excited. Janey had helped her dad put together the crib, paint the walls, and decorate the area. They still had yet to get a changing table in, but she was only four months along; they had plenty of time.

Hooves clomping and chatter from outside in the pasture became louder and louder, prompting her to poke her head outside. The Howard duo had just returned from another function, and they were eagerly talking about it. As soon as they came inside, Janey gave a quick hug and hello to her stepmother, and little sibling, before running up the stairs to go wash up. Cooper, however, was a little more nonchalant about washing up for dinner.

“Uh uh. No sir, Mr. Howard. You are going to wash before I vomit and ruin my appetite.” Mrs. Howard pushed her husband away who tried to come in for a hug and a kiss.

“Mr. Howard, huh? We back to using last names, darling?” He teased, trying again to step forward and give her affection. But she just pushed him away and to the stairs.

“You want me to use your first name, then you better go wash. I’m serious, Coop. The smell.” She complained, but was relieved when her husband obliged and left for their room upstairs.

Several minutes went by before Janey returned. It was clear that she had only washed her hands and face, as well as changing into new clothes, but it was a big improvement on the smell of horses and sweat that bothered her. The girl was helping place food and plates on the table, when the doorbell rang.

“Have your daddy finish when he gets out here. I’ll go get the door.” The woman instructed, and made her way over to the front door. Pulling it open, she was a little surprised to see Janey’s mom here this early in the evening. She called out for the little girl to come to the door, who greeted her mother warmly. Soon she was taking off for her room to grab her things that she would be bringing to her mom’s house. Which left the two women there awkwardly.

“How are you doing today, Barb?” She tried to start, but the woman was not having it.

“How far along are you?” Barb quipped, her tone sharp and clipped.

“Um, just made it to eighteen weeks. We go in soon to find out the gender.” Her tone was happy, as compared to Barb’s. But for some reason, the joy was not shared.

“Is it Coop’s?” There was the reason. Taken aback by the invasive and offensive question, she was not quite sure how to respond to that.

“I’m- I’m sorry?” She stuttered, gripping the side of the door to control herself.

“And are you sure that Cooper is ready for another kid? At his age? He’s done with that part of his life. He already has Janey. And Janey, how is she going to feel once you have the baby and aren’t showing her as much attention. Besides, if you two don’t have godparents for the child, they’ll end up growing up alone if something happens to you two.” Stunned was all she felt. There was a sense of numb that washed over her body as she took in the woman’s words. Barb said all of that with such confidence that it almost made her second guess this whole pregnancy.

“Barb, what are you doing here so early?” Cooper came up behind his wife and placed an arm around her waist so that his hand rested on her stomach.

“Picking up Janey and discovering this… situation. You never told me.” She spoke smoothly, while the current Mrs. Howard was panicking inside.

“Well, we just didn’t want anything to happen and have us say something too soon. But, yes Barb, we’re expecting a baby in a few more months. Janey is really excited about being a big sister.” He reassured the woman, rubbing soothing circles into the side of his wife’s belly.

“Oh, Janey knows already?” The shock on Barb’s face was almost enough to make her feel good.

“Yep. She’s super excited. I think she may be more excited than us to have this baby.” Cooper joked, pressing a kiss to his wife’s temple as she was starting to come out of her stupor.

“Is this really the best thing for you, Coop?” There it was again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He countered, not willing to back down to his ex-wife.

“Well, with your age and already having an older child, is this really the best course?” Barb shifted her weight from foot to foot while crossing her arms.

“Barb, I was in my early fourties’ when Janey was born, and a lot of people think that’s too old. I like being a dad, and I can’t wait to have another baby.” At that moment, Janey came running down the stairs with all her stuff ready to go. The adults did not talk much after that, choosing to focus on the child instead of anything else. She said a quick goodbye to her father, stepmother and baby sibling before going along with her mom to where her car waited.

As soon as Barb left, she felt like she could breathe again. Making her way into the kitchen, she finished setting the table and began dishing out food before any more conversation could come up. Of course, Cooper noticed the odd way his wife was acting throughout dinner, but he figured that she would come to him when she was ready.

After dinner, the woman hurriedly collected the plates and dishes to clean them, leaving Cooper at the table confused. This went beyond normal pregnancy hormones being out of balance. He waited a moment, before getting up and going to the kitchen where she stood over the sink full of dishes. She was busy scrubbing away, and flinched when her husband’s hands wrapped around her middle and pulled her close.

“Ain’t this a pretty sight.” He drawled, peppering kisses down her neck and shoulders; wherever he could reach.

“What, Coop?” She retorted, not pausing her task in spite of the affection.

“Well, just my beautiful wife being all domestic. Washing dishes after she made her husband a scrumptious meal, round with my child. It does something to a man.” Cooper’s voice dropped down low and gravely, which she knew he knew that was her weakness. Anytime his voice got like that, she was not able to think clearly anymore.

“What’s got you so bothered tonight, momma?” He rested his head against her shoulders, and felt how tense they were.

“It’s nothing. Just stuff Barb said.” When she tried to resume her dishes, Cooper took them out of her hands and spun her around. Her back to the sink, and her eyes downcast as she was unable to look at him in the eyes. But gentle fingertips fixed that real quick.

“Now what could she say that would get you this bummed?” He was super concerned for his wife’s wellbeing; normally she would not put any validity into the words that woman said.

“She asked me if the baby was yours, and then went on a spiel about how you probably didn’t want another kid. Or how Janey was going to feel left out with a baby in the house. And even how she would not care what happens to the baby if something were to happen to us. I mean, who makes a pregnancy not related to them about them.” Tears began to well up inside hers eyes as she let her mind race with thoughts that she was voicing out loud.

“Oh, darling. Come here.” Cooper pulled her in close and pushed her face into his chest. She cried hard, and all he could do was keep consoling her. He let her get out everything that was bothering her in that moment, and never once tried to rush her. It took several minutes for her sobs to die down enough that she could be intelligible.

“Now, I want you to listen and listen well, darling,” Cooper spoke softly as he held her close. “I don’t want you to listen to a thing that woman says. She’s just bitter. I know that baby’s mine because I know that you would never do that to me. You know that Janey might be more excited than us to have a new member of the family, and you know damn sure that we’ll figure out a contingency plan for our child when we get there. You’re only five moths along, just over halfway. You still got some cookin’ to do for that little bun.”

She giggled lightly as his southern accent came forth more and more the longer he talked. Taking this as a good sign, he pulled away just enough to see her face. Keeping one hand around her body, he brought the other to wipe at her face, drying the remaining tears.

“I love you so much, darling. And this little bundle we’re gonna have in our arms in a few months? I’m gonna fall in love with you even more.” Cooper pressed a kiss to her lips, and wrapped her back up in his arms. once they pulled away again, she smiled genuinely since before dinner.

“Ain’t that a pretty sight.”

[alienoresimagines]

can you write [knuckles] for a kiss on the hand? thank you!!

I'm sorry this took so long, I hope you're still around 🥺❤️But here it is, 1.8k long despite my best efforts at keeping it under 1k 😅 I hope you'll like it 💕 Also on AO3 My other Clegan fics here

Never Coming Down (With Your Hand In Mine) | Buck x Bucky

The radio they managed to find doesn't tell them much of interest regarding the Allies’ troops and their progress, but writing any tidbits of information down gives John something to focus on that isn't this camp, this life that isn't really a life but that isn't death either, just some in-between that John is stuck in, unable to do anything or be useful. One foot in the grave and every day wishing a bit more it was both. In the darkest corner of his mind, he thinks that perhaps his death would save Gale from tiring himself to the bone trying to keep John tethered to Earth. Maybe, at least then, he could be useful to Buck. 

The thought is squashed away almost immediately, guilt crawling in his throat. Those few days after Gale had gone down over Bremen were the worst in John's life. The certainty that he was now a piece of something that would never be whole again, with no home to fight for anymore, had been the most excruciating pain John's ever known. Over the course of just a few months, he’s lost more friends than he can count, each loss cutting deeper. But losing Gale hadn’t just felt like losing a limb. From the moment Red’s distorted voice reached his ears through the phone - “He went down swinging, John” - he was an empty shell walking, his chest hollow with no heart, some vital part of him missing. No matter how miserable this camp makes him, wishing such agony on his best friend, his better half is unbearable. If only to spare Gale any additional pain, he’ll plant both feet in the mud until they stop trying to get him closer to that barbed-wire fence. 

Yet, despite desperately wishing Gale out of harm’s way, his being chained to the dirt with him is John’s saving grace. In the darkness of the Stalag, Gale shines brighter than the North Star, and John fights every day to keep himself from the fog in his head to grasp at this soft golden light. It's easier at night, the weight of Gale in his arms a grounding presence, the distinct smell of him feeling more and more like home, but John is starting to make it through some days always there too. Listening to the radio also helps, especially when most days, it's just him and Gale at the table, the others keeping watch on the guards from outside. Soon it'll be too cold for them to do so without it being suspicious or dangerous for their own health, but for now, John is glad he gets to spend more time alone with Gale. His ma always said he fights tooth and nail for those he loves, and right now, he's desperately grasping at the fading rays of sunlight, selfishness be damned.

Today, the BBC doesn't have any interesting news to keep hold of his attention for long, so he mostly scribbles down what he hears without making sense of the words strung together, too focused on the solid presence of Buck on his right. With both of them being right-handed, it would have been too much of a hindrance to be pressed close enough for their shoulders to touch, but their knees knock together every so often, like silent banter. It sends sparks of warmth down John's spine, the focused tilt of Gale's mouth only amusing him in his boredom. In the past five minutes, he's sent his knee against Gale's in soft presses, alternating between lingering and fleeting touches until the word B-U-C-K is successfully floating in the air, though the man himself seems entirely unaware of it, tongue darting between his lips in concentration. Bucky's debating coding G-A-L-E, just to see if the rare occurrence of his given name will snap the other out of his focus when said man grunts softly as he scribbles, pencil scratching the paper as it nears the edge. John mindlessly hands him a blank piece of paper, more than attuned to all the different ways the other has to ask for something without voicing his desires, eyes trained on the stray blond curl falling on Buck’s forehead. Without lifting his eyes from his piece of paper, Gale extends a pale hand to take John's offering, the contact of their fingers sending a jolt through John's blood. He lets out a yelp, slightly jerking back before diving in to hold Gale's hands between his own, Buck's sound of confusion and protest as his pencil is thrown out of his hold swallowed by John's cursing.

"Jesus, Buck, your hands are fuckin' freezing." John doesn't feel particularly warm but the difference in temperature between both their hands is such that he half-expects the air to start hissing. How Gale can still move his fingers is a mystery to him, and his gut goes tight with worry. Trying to rub warmth back into those hands, John brings them to his face so that he can blow hot air on long fingers. He's deeply aware of how intimate the gesture is, especially in a place like this, and he can feel heat rising to his cheeks but he focuses stubbornly on his task. Keeping his eyes on those hands he’s never held so close to his face is a necessary precaution to ensure he doesn’t dismiss any inch of skin in his mission to warm them enough that he doesn’t have to worry about them falling off, and it has the additional effect of allowing John to study them without fearing being caught.

Gale's hands truly are beautiful. They've always been, and in the years he's known the other, John has spent more time than he probably should have admiring them. How they wrap in a strong grip around the yolk to wield a metal fortress effortlessly, how long, slender fingers bring a toothpick to the plump curve of his lips. Calluses on fingers and rough palms that were still so gentle and kind when they tended to John's wounds just a few months ago. Today, they look frail and dry, the knuckles angry red and cracked from the cold. It hurts to even look at them, those hands that were more suited for piano and gently guiding horses across fields now cracked by misery and cold. Acting on an urge, he presses a kiss to the knuckles of both, a silent promise to warm them and get them better, to get them far from weapons and barbed fences, and back to horses and piano and books.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Gale blinking owlishly at him, perfectly still. Between them, the radio crackles, words floating in the air but never making it to any paper. After a few more seconds, Gale's voice rises too, soft despite his usual deep southern drawl.

"I need my hands back, Bucky." John frowns, still rubbing his palms over Gale's hands to warm them. Admittedly, he knows Gale can't write with his foot, even though imagining it almost makes him smile, but really, nothing the BBC is broadcasting right now is worth the risk of Gale losing his hands to the cold. Unconsciously, he brings Gale's hands closer to his face, just shy of nuzzling them with the tip of his nose, already thinking of all the ways he could get them warm. It would be, like many things, easier at night. With the cold, everybody has taken up to sharing a bunk and no one would notice if Gale's hands were pressed to his skin, under his shirt. Even though the thought of those icicles against more sensitive skin than his palms isn't exactly a pleasant one, he'd do it in a heartbeat. For the day, when it would be too risky for John to hold Gale's hands in his pockets, maybe he could find him some gloves, at least make mittens out of socks, to soften the blow of the cold and the sting of the wind. 

"Bucky ?" Eyes snapping to Gale's, he finds him with his head slightly tilted to the side, cheeks red from the cold. It's then he realizes he still has both of Gale's hands in his. The other looks at him and then back at his paper before raising his brows in a silent question, making John huff. Reluctantly, he lets go of Gale's right hand but immediately cradles his left hand on his lap. He hopes Gale will be satisfied with this, but the other keeps looking at him insistently, a fond glint in his eyes but brows slightly furrowed, as if his left hand being held in both of John's is a math problem he can’t solve.

At the silent question, he rolls his eyes and makes a show of putting his own left hand on the upper part of Gale's paper, making sure it doesn't move from its spot on the table. The paper is smooth against his fingertips, contrasting with the rough feel of the wooden table that has given them more than their fair share of splinters on his palm. He misses the feeling of Gale’s hands in his. For a moment, he had felt whole in a way he usually only feels at night. Gale's hand is starting to get warmer in his, the skin rough from the cold, but John has never held something as delicate and precious as it, save for Gale himself.

Resting their joined hands on his lap, he intertwines their fingers and fights down the blush he can feel creeping up his neck, eyes resolutely on the paper in front of the other. There’s no reason to feel nervous, they’ve slept in each other’s arms so often by now it really shouldn’t matter, but something about the fact that this isn’t about survival forces him to take a deep breath before moving. With one slide over the bench, his side is pressed to Gale’s, shoulders rising and falling in tandem. He’s glad to notice that Buck isn’t as cold as his hands, warmth seeping from his side to John’s as rapidly as the tension leaves the set of his shoulders until he’s pressing back into John.

They'll work slower like that but Gale doesn't protest nor take his hand away, only resettling slightly so his thigh also rests against John’s. Tentatively, he risks a glance at Gale and finds him looking down at the table, face still red but from something John has an inkling isn't the cold anymore, biting his bottom lip softly but mouth nonetheless quirked upwards. It takes every ounce of strength and self-restraint in him not to kiss him, to smother the affection blooming in his chest. Instead, after a bit of silence in which he feels he might suffocate on pent-up love, John squeezes Gale's hand in his and the other seems to focus back on his task, startled. Clearing his throat, Gale starts scribbling again, pointedly avoiding looking to his left, but John doesn't mind, a smile spreading his cracked lips, fondness written plain on his face as he doesn’t look away for a second.

On his lap, Gale squeezes his hand back.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie hated the idea of it, but he couldn't stop himself. He needed to help them. He cut the rope and ran outside to buy them more time, ignoring Dustin's screams. Just as he ran out there, he saw a light coming towards him. It was running at him. He realized it was Steve, holding a flaming torch above his head. When got to the trailer, he slammed the torch into the ground.

"I knew you were going to do something stupid," Steve said.

He walked over to him, kneeling at his stomach and tossed Eddie over his shoulder like a bag of flour. Eddie shrieked, but he wasn't going to complain about the view. Eddie looked up awkwardly as Steve started to walk into the trailer.

"Steve! The bats are dying!" Eddie yelled.

"See? You didn't have to do anything," Steve said.

Once he he walked in, he set Eddie on the ground but kept a hand firmly on him.

"What about Robin and Nancy?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, me and Robin are telepathically connected," Steve replied. "Yeah, they're on their way back."

"What?! How are you - ?!"

"Russians," Steve explained as he started to tie the rope back together.

"Yes, because that explains everything," Eddie said sarcastically.

"Get your ass back through the gate," Steve told him, his hands on his hips.

Eddie's cheeks turned red. Damn it. He liked that. He swallowed and climbed through the fate where Dustin was waiting for him with his arms crossed.

"You scared the shit out of me," Dustin said.

Steve climbed back through the gate, landing safely on the other side. He stood with his hands on his hips, staring at Eddie and ready to give him a talking to.

"Sit," Steve said, pointing towards the couch.

"Yes, Daddy," Eddie said, not missing the way Steve’s eyes darkened.

"Eddie! That's not how you use that sarcastic remark like that. It's 'yes, dad'," Dustin scoffed. "Daddy is what three year olds say."

"My bad," Eddie smirked.

"Your room now!" Steve exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You are in so much trouble," Dustin laughed.

Steve pushed Eddie into his room and slammed the door behind them.

"So, how did you know that I would do that?" Eddie asked.

"Because it's what I would have done. It's what I did. The first time I got involved, I ran, but then I turned back and faced down a full-grown demogorgon. Later, I used myself as bait to protect the kids. The point is that I did all that because I felt guilty about Barb, and I know that's probably what you must be feeling. I mean, I know that it wasn't my fault and that I have nothing to prove. Eddie, it wasn't your fault what happened to Chrissy, and you have nothing to prove to anyone," Steve said softly.

Eddie smiled at him, his eyes soft and his cheeks pink. He raised his hands and cupped Steve’s face, brushing his thumbs across his cheekbones. Eddie kissed him softly. Eddie froze when he didn't feel him kiss back, and he thought that he screwed up for a moment. Steve slid his arms around him and started kissing him back, deepening the kiss. Eddie grinned when Steve slipped his tongue into his mouth. Eddie broke the kiss.

"Guess you really liked it when I called you Daddy?" Eddie whispered in his ear.

"Shut up," he hissed.

When they finally came out of Eddie's room, their hair was messed up and their lips were swollen.

"Oh, man, your face looks so red, Eddie. Steve must have chewed you out really good," Dustin laughed.

"Oh, yeah, he gave me a good tongue lashing," Eddie grinned.

"Seriously?" Steve asked.

Suddenly, Robin and Nancy were falling through the roof, the gate closing behind them.

"Hey, I don't appreciate the pornographic images you put in my head, Steven," Robin said. "Think about the ladies when I put up my shields!"

"Pornographic images? When would he have - " Dustin said, and then his eyes widened in realization. "Oh my god!"

[morgana-larkin]

Alright so I saw a prompt from @meowmeowhissss for a jealousy fic and of course I couldn’t resist. The prompt is: It’s a holiday. Melissa takes R to a family function. The schemmenti family loves them. Kristin and R get along very well, which makes Melissa jealous. She’s either jealous because R’s attention should be her or because she misses having a connection with Kristin (your choice 🤷‍♀️). Could end in reassurance or some jealousy smut.

On another note: I’m trying to decide what to do next, your prompts, to start a Marilyn one or continue the next chapter of worth it, hm, maybe I’ll post a poll soon. Like right after I post this lol.

Translations:

Italian:

Tesorino - sweetie

Papera - duck

Dutch:

Oma - grandmother

Red And Green

Warnings: Jealous Mel (when I say red and green, I don’t just mean the colours 😏), oblivious reader, smut, fluff

Words: 5k

It’s Christmas Day and Melissa invited you to her family get together as they keep asking to meet you. You accepted, although confused. You and Melissa are really good friends and have known each other for a year and a half. You were attracted to her from day 1 and it only grew, more so in the past 4 months when she started paying more attention to you.

You put on your red dress that stops mid thigh and it’s a bit flowy from the waist down. It comes with a white belt and you put on your black heeled boots that stops just before the knee. You apply some green eye shadow and red lip gloss. You then hear a knock at your door. You go and answer it and see Melissa standing there. All you see is her black leather pants and her black coat zipped up.

She however got to see your outfit and her brain stopped working for a second. “Wow, you look amazing hon.” She tells you and you blush. “You all ready?” She asks and you nod.

“Let me just grab my coat and purse.” You say and she nods. You go get both and you grab your present for Melissa and for the steal a gift that she said her family is doing. You also grab the cookies you made as a thank you to her family for inviting you.

“You made cookies?” She asks you and you nod.

“My Oma taught me to never show up empty handed when someone invites you to a family party.” You tell her and she smiles.

“My Nonna would have loved you. And would have gotten along with your Oma.” She tells you and you smile and blush.

You get in Melissa’s car and she tells you that you can put your music on if you want. “Do you like Christmas songs?” You ask her and she shrugs.

“Some of them.” She says and you put one on and she looks at you weirdly.

“Really?” She says and rolls her eyes. “Out of all the Christmas songs I thought you were gonna put on, I want a hippopotamus for Christmas was not one of them.” She says and you laugh. Melissa looks at you laughing and singing along and she doesn’t have the heart to change the song. She’d listen to it every year at Christmas if it meant she’d hear your laugh and singing along happily.

“Btw, why did your family invite me?” You ask her when the song ends.

“I don’t know, they told me the details and asked if I could invite you to it.” She says with a shrug. “I thought it was a bit weird too. They’ve never asked me to invite anyone else before. Well they did for Barb once years ago and obviously Joe and Gary.” She tells you and you smile.

“Well I’m very honoured they wanted to invite me. Do you talk about all your co workers to your family?” You ask her.

“The ones that matter.” Is all she says and you blush and look down. Melissa has a feeling for why her mom wanted to invite you. Her mom has only asked to meet someone in her life for two reasons, 1: her mom thinks they’re dating and 2: when she tells her mom she’s dating someone. Her mom wanted to meet Barb thinking her and Barb were dating but said they weren’t and that Barb is happily married to a man with 2 daughters. She’s worried that her mom thinks she’s dating you. Melissa is attracted to you and knows you’re into women but doesn’t know if you’re attracted to her. Melissa has mentioned you but never told her mom she has feelings for you. Although it wouldn’t surprise Melissa if her mom figured it out.

She pulls up at her parents house after 20 minutes of driving. You both get out and you hold your things and wait as Melissa gets her items from the trunk. She grabs a handful of gifts and closes the trunk then goes and walks to the door with you following her. You see about 10 cars parked outside and think that’s the average amount for a family gathering until Melissa speaks up. “Looks like only half my family is already here.” She comments and your jaw drops.

“What do you mean half? How many people are in your family?” You ask and she laughs.

“Have you forgotten I’m Italian?” She says and you sigh.

“It might have slipped my mind that most Italians have big families.” You say.

“Are you ok with big crowds?” She asked and you nod.

“Ya, it just surprised me is all.” You tell her and she knocks on the door. A few seconds later the door opens and an older women that looks like an Melissa with just a couple differences answers and you know right away that she’s Melissa’s mom. She lets you guys enter and Melissa greets her.

“Hey Ma, Merry Christmas!” She tells her and hugs her. How she managed to hug her while holding onto a bunch of gifts without dropping one is beyond you. Her mom then turns to you and smiles.

“Hi, you must be y/n. I’m Teresa, Mel’s mother.” She says to you.

“Yes I’m y/n, nice to meet you.” You say and hold out a hand to shake.

“We hug in this family.” She tells you and holds out her arms and you hug her.

“I brought some cookies.” You tell her.

“Oh aren’t you sweet.” She says and takes the cookies from you. “You didn’t have too.” She adds.

“My Oma taught me to never show up empty handed to a family gathering that I’m invited to.” You tell her and she smiles.

“She’s a good one Mel.” She tells Melissa and her cheeks go red.

“Maa.” Melissa says and her mom just smiles at you.

“I thought I heard the second trouble maker.” A man says and comes out to you guys.

“Hi Pa.” Melissa says and hugs him. “I guess that means the papera is already here.” She adds and Teresa scoffs.

“You and your sister with the insults to each other honestly.” Her mom says and you giggle. “Oh Tesorino, this is y/n.” Her mom says to her husband and points to you.

“Hi, I’m Cosimo. And to brag but it means beauty.” He jokes and flips his short hair that barely moves and you laugh.

“Here let me take your coats.” Teresa says and takes yours and Mel’s coat. When you finally see Melissa’s full outfit, you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds. She’s wearing a low cut red shirt with a green sweater. You stare at her long enough for both her parents to notice and smirk at each other.

“Where can we put the gifts?” Melissa asks and her mom leads you both to the living room where most of the people were gathered and you put your gifts under the tree.

“Well well well, look who finally decided to show up.” Someone says and you recognize the voice of Melissa’s sister, Kristen Marie.

“Nice to see you too Kristy.” Melissa says and they hug each other.

“You must be y/n, Melissa mentioned you a few times.” She says to you and you nod.

“Ya I am, nice to meet you.” You say to her.

“Here, let me show you around and introduce you to everyone.” Kristen says to you and you miss Melissa’s glare at her sister. Kristen is unaware of Melissa’s feelings for you and she thinks you’re kinda cute.

“Oh ok, thank you.” You tell her and she leads you around the house and introduces you to people. You wanted to spend time with Melissa but you didn’t want to seem rude.

After about an hour, you meet everyone and saw the whole downstairs of the house. Melissa keeps a close eye on you and her mom comes up to her at some point.

“So when are you going to tell her?” She says to her.

“What?” Melissa says.

“When are you going to tell y/n about your feelings?” Her mom states.

“What makes you think I have feelings for her?” Melissa asks her mom.

“Oh please. It may not be obvious to other people but you’re my daughter. I hear the way you talk about her and how your eyes look when you do. And how you’re now staring holes into your sister’s head since she stole y/n away from you.” She tells her and Melissa sighs.

“I do have feelings for her but we’re friends. And that’s all we’ll ever be.” Melissa tells her mom.

“Cara, why don’t you want to tell her?” She asks her.

“Because I don’t know if you noticed the age gap, and the fact that I don’t have the best luck when it comes to relationships.”

“Mel, I noticed the age gap but that has never stopped anyone in our family before. Your bad luck is only because you wanted different things in life than they did.” Her mom says. “Plus your sister is going for it and she’s only 2 years younger than you.” She adds and Melissa whips her head at her.

“What do you mean she’s going for it?” Melissa asks surprised and her mom smiles.

“Kristen Marie is flirting with her.” She tells her and points to you and Kristen Marie. Her sister has her arm wrapped around your waist and holding you close while talking to a cousin. Melissa crosses her arms and huffs. “If it helps, she’s interested in you as well. But if you don’t make a move, she might actually start to flirt back with Kristen, thinking you’re not interested in her.” Her mom says and then walks back to the kitchen. Melissa walks over to you guys, stands right beside you and joins in on the conversation.

“Hey Melissa!” You say and she smiles at you.

“Hey, you having fun?” She asks you.

“Ya I am, Kristen here has been so nice to show me around and introduce me to everyone. We also have similar interests as well. How come you never introduced me to your sister before?” You ask her and she frowns. She thinks her sister might have won you over.

“Melissa and I have only patched things up 3 years ago.” Kristen says to you. “And I think Mel still forgets she has a sister at times.”

“More like I try to forget but it never happens.” Melissa retorts and you laugh. Just then Teresa announces dinner is ready and everyone scurries to line up at the kitchen. It’s buffet style and then just sit wherever. Kristen pulls you to the line before it gets too long and Melissa tries to keep up but ends up seperated. She watches you and Kristen talking and you laughing at whatever she says and Melissa gets angry.

“You alright cuz?” Someone says to Melissa and snaps her out of her thoughts and she turns around.

“Ya Vinny, I’m fine, why?”

“Because you look like you want to kill your sister. And you guys patched things up a few years ago.” He tells her.

“Like I said, I’m fine.” She tells him with a bite to her voice and Vinny looks unconvinced but doesn’t question it further.

You all managed to eventually get food and sit down in the living room. Kristen continues talking to you and starts to get touchy so Melissa takes action. She walks right up to you both and squeezes in between you both.

“Excuse me.” She says and you and Kristen both have to move over to make room for Melissa.

“What the hell Melissa?” Kristen says and you look confused but don’t think much of it.

“What?”

“You’re impossible sometimes.” Kristen tells her and Melissa just smirks and turns to you.

“Enjoying the food?” She asks and you nod.

“Yes I am. I hope your mom didn’t cook all of it. There was enough for a village in there.” You say and both the sisters laugh. You miss Melissa elbowing her sister in the stomach.

“No, Ma didn’t cook everything. She cooked about half though. Lots of our family volunteers to bring something over. Last year I brought a branzino.” She tells you and Kristen scoffs. “Something you want to say Kristy?” Melissa turns to her sister with a glare.

“Nope.” Kristen says and takes a bite of her food. “Y/n have you ever tried caprese chicken saltimbocca?” Kristen asks you and you shake your head.

“Can’t say I have.”

“Did you get some?” She asks you and both of them look at your plate and sees that you didn’t. Before Melissa could offer some of hers, Kristen beats you to it but offers you a bite off of her fork and you accept it. Melissa looks at interaction and stews. She doesn’t want to have another feud with her sister especially since her sister technically isn’t doing anything wrong. You’re single, beautiful and sweet, the whole package. She can see why her sister is flirting with you.

After dinner, you all have dessert as you do the steal a gift. It has 2 rules, 1: you can’t re-steal a gift back as well as the same gift can’t be stolen more than once in a round and 2: you must wait your turn.

When it’s your turn, you pick a gift and see that it’s a beautiful necklace of a green diamond heart wrapped with silver lining, the green is the same colour as Melissa’s eyes and you love it.

Unfortunately one of her cousin’s steals it from you and Melissa sees your pout and then you go to get a different gift. Melissa is the last person to pick and she’s gonna steal that necklace back for you. You open another gift and see that it’s a bottle of Italian wine and you get a bunch of ‘ooo’s from everyone. And someone says that you’re having bad luck when someone steals it from you and you laugh and agree. You're sitting beside Melissa and she has her arm on your low back the entire time. You talk with Kristen Marie as well who’s sitting on the other side of you.

When it’s Melissa’s turn she immediately goes and steals the necklace from her cousin, the one who stole it from you, got it stolen from her and now Melissa is stealing back for you. She’ll give it to you later tonight. You end up with a hoodie that says “I’m Italian you gaboots” to which you and everyone laughed.

Teresa then goes and hands the gifts under the tree to who it’s for. You end up getting one from Melissa and her parents to which you were surprised. Melissa ends up getting a few gifts as well as her sister and everyone else. You open hers and see that it’s a baseball cap that says the eagles on it that you mentioned you couldn’t afford at the time, when you and her went to a game. You saw that she got a cap but you thought it was for herself and you now saw that she got it for you. You squeal and give her a hug.

“Oh, thank you thank you thank you!” You tell her and she laughs.

“You’re welcome hon.” She says.

Melissa sees that you got her a gift and she opens it with a smile. She sees that it’s the book she wanted and you must have heard her talking about it and got it for her.

“Omg thanks hon.” She says and hugs you.

“Open it.” You tell her and looks confused.

“To what page?” She asks.

“Any page.” You tell her and she opens it and she immediately tears up. The first letter of each word was highlighted. She flips through it more and it seems like it’s like that for the entire book.

“Omg.” She says and puts her hand over her heart.

“You ok Mel?” Her mom asks and Melissa nods and turns to you.

“Did you get someone to highlight it or did you do it yourself?” She asks.

“I did it myself.” You tell her and she launches herself at you in a hug.

“Omg hon, this is the best gift ever!” She tells you. Her mom looks at the book and sees what you did and she smiles. The fact that you knew of Melissa’s dyslexia, got her a book she wanted and knew what helps her and did it yourself, made her see that you’re the perfect one for Melissa. When most people were done opening their gifts and chatting with people, Melissa turns to you. “Hey hon.” She says and you turn to her.

“Ya Melissa?” She pulls out the necklace from the steal a gift.

“I saw you loved the necklace and decided to steal it for you.” She tells you and your jaw drops.

“You did that for me?” You ask in disbelief and she nods. “Are you sure? I mean I’m sure it would look lovely on you.” You tell her.

“I’m sure but I got enough necklaces for now and it would look better on you. Turn around and lift up your hair.” She tells you and you do. She puts the necklaces on you with a smile. Kristen hears the conversation and sees the interaction between you and figures out why Melissa has been glaring at her all evening. Melissa likes you. She decides right there to amp up the flirting with you to make Melissa jealous. She knows her sister might not make a move otherwise. Her mom sees the interaction as well and sneaks a picture of Melissa putting the necklace on you.

She clips it on and you turn around and face her. “Wow thank you Melissa!” You tell her and stare at the necklace with a smile.

“You’re welcome. I knew it would look good on you.” She says softly and you blush. As a thank you, you kiss her check and then turn around to face Kristen Marie as she taps your arm right away. Melissa is stunned by your action and touches where you kissed her with a blush and smile. Teresa gets a picture of the kiss and Melissa’s reaction.

Before anyone leaves, they all get up to take a bunch of photos. A few of everyone, a few without the partners or guests of people. And then individual ones of the households and everyone’s little families. Melissa got one with her mom, dad and sister and then one with just her sister. She thought she was done and then her mom calls you up again and gets you to take one with Melissa. She takes one with Melissa’s hand wrapped around your waist and tells you to get closer as your ‘besties’. Her words, not yours. Melissa then goes behind you and hugs you from behind and puts her chin on your shoulder and her mom takes a picture and then Melissa sticks her tongue out for the next one to which you laugh and copy her. The photos of other people continue as you two go to sit down.

Kristen Marie grabs your attention right away and Melissa gets annoyed. Kristen Marie has gotten more touchy with you, the more into the night you get. You are wondering why she’s touchy with you and you are starting to like it a bit, you normally don’t get attention like that from people. Kristen Marie puts her hand on your thigh and whispers something to you and that’s when Melissa decides to leave. Other people have already left so she thinks it wouldn’t look weird.

“Hey hon, I’m getting tired so I’m gonna go.” She tells you and you look at her.

“Oh ok, let me get my things and we can go.” You say but Kristen Marie speaks up.

“If you want I can drive you home and you can stay longer.” She offers and you look at her and her hand goes higher up her leg and Melissa sees red.

“Oh um, I’m actually going to hitch a ride with Melissa if that’s ok with you.” You ask her to which she immediately nods.

Melissa and you say your goodbyes to everyone. You thank her parents for inviting you and Teresa hands you your container back, now empty as all the cookies were eaten.

You put your stuff in the car and Melissa starts the drive back to your place. “So you and my sister seem to have gotten along.” She starts and you look at her.

“Ya, she’s really nice, she even gave me her number.” You say and Melissa takes a deep breath to try and control her jealousy.

“That’s because she was hitting on you.” Melissa says bluntly and a bit snippy.

“What? No she wasn’t, she was just being nice.” You tell her and she scoffs.

“Hon, you have got to be the most oblivious person on the planet if you couldn’t tell she was flirting with you.” Melissa tells you and you look at her confused. “I mean she literally had her hand on your thigh.” She says with a bit of anger.

“Well I did think that was a bit weird but didn’t want to seem rude if that’s normal in your family.”

“That’s not normal for us, we’re not that touchy.”

“What?!? But you’re touchy with me too.” You say.

“Ya! Because I’m trying to flirt with you too!” She says annoyed but then she realises what she just admitted and mentally facepalms.

“You’re what?” You ask.

Melissa leans back into the seat and doesn’t bother looking at you or answering your question.

“Melissa, do you like me?” You ask her and she sighs. She then finds a place to pull over safely and then turns to look at you.

“Ok yes I do, I’ve been trying to flirt with you for 4 months ever since I realised I liked you over the summer. But I guess you’re the most oblivious person, I also didn’t want to tell you directly because I was afraid. But I saw how you were with my sister and I got jealous.” She admits and you stare at her with wide eyes and then you smile at her.

“I like you too.” You tell her and she looks shocked at you.

“Do you really?” She asks and you nod. Melissa then cups your cheek and leans in. You lean in as well and you kiss each other. It starts out slow as you learn each other’s mouths and savour it. Then it quickly turns desperate and Melissa deepens the kiss. You let out a moan and Melissa puts her hands all over your hair. You then pull away and look at her face.

“Take me to your place.” You tell her and it takes her a second to process and then she nods and puts the car in drive.

She then drives to her place and you both quickly get out and into her house. Once inside she pushes you against the door as soon as it closes and attacks your lips with hers.

“Wait.” You tell her and she pulls back. “Were you jealous of your sister flirting with me?” You ask her and she looks down and blushes. “Hmm, I knew you were acting a little different. I kinda like it.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“Really?”

“Ya, go on and take your jealousy out on me.” You whisper in her ear. And with your permission, she does just that.

She attacks your neck roughly and you gasp and moan. She pins you up on the wall and pulls your dress down to go for your nipples. You bury your hands in her hair and moan. She then pins your hands to the wall and you whine as you’re unable to touch her. “Naughty girls don’t get to touch.” She says with a deep voice and you shiver. “I know you liked the attention you got from my sister.” She adds and you whimper. “Tell me, do you think my sister can get all these sounds out of you?” She asks and you squirm. You then decide to add fuel to the fire.

“She probably could. I mean she knew how to move her hand under my dress.” You say and you see the jealousy practically leaking from her as there was so much.

“So that’s how you’re gonna play it I see.” She says and carries you to her bedroom. “I see you want to be fucked roughly tonight, treated like the slut you are.” She tells you once she sets you down on her bed. She unbuckles your belt and flings it off you, then rips your dress off. She unclips your bra and sends it flying then attacks your nipples and she moans. She pulls you up more onto the bed and climbs on top of you. She slides your underwear and then looks at you bare under her. She then gets up and goes to her closet and brings a box over. She then oh so casually, takes out some cuffs and ties you to the bed.

“What?” But I haven’t touched you yet!” You exclaim and she smirks.

“Like I said, naughty girls don’t get to touch.” She says then she takes her sweater and shirt off and you drool at the sight of her chest on display like that. She then straddles your lap and takes her bra off and you stare at them. She then puts her hands on her boobs and touches herself while all you can do is watch and struggle against the cuffs. “Hmm oh I bet you’d love to touch me like this.” She teases and she moans. You whimper and she grinds against you a bit. She then gets up and takes her pants and underwear off. She then get a vibrator out, turns it on and instructs you to close your legs, she then puts it on your clit and tells you to keep it there. She then goes and slowly puts a strap on while she watches you squirm. She knows your close and she wonders if she should edge you or make you come many times. She decides to edge you and tells you not to come. You squirm even more and she enjoying watching you struggle.

She then ups the speed on the vibrator and you arch your back and try to keep the vibrator in place like she told you too. She then turns it off when she knows you can’t hold on too much longer and removes it from you. You whine as you were very close but then she gets in between your legs and starts licking you. You moan at the feeling of her hot wet tongue and mouth on you where you need her the most. She then goes for your clit and you gasp. She roughy licks and sucks on it for a couple minutes until you were just about to come and she pulls back. She waits a few seconds for you to calm down and then she sticks her fingers in you and fingers you. About half a minute she curls her fingers inside you and it hits your g-spot. You have your legs spread nice and open for her and you’re close again. She then pulls out when your close and you whimper.

“Mel please, I need to come.” You say with a pout and she chuckles.

“You don’t get to come until I say so.” She tells you and you realise she’s edging you. She then lines the dildo up with your entrance and she shoves it in. You scream out and she gives you a second to adjust. She then goes and starts pounding it into you and she rubs your clit. Melissa comes about a minute later but doesn’t tell you, she wants to know how much more you can take. “Hold it in you slut.” She says and you whimper. She then pulls out at the last second and you whine and whimper. She takes the strap off and goes and sits on your face. You take a few licks and she moans out. She then pushes the vibrator to your clit and turns it on to the max. “When you make me come then you can.” She says to you and you squirm the entire time as you hold in the orgasm she’s been denying you all night. And then finally she comes and it drips all over your chin and lips and then you come with a scream as it hits you hard due to the intense build up.

She then releases you from the cuffs and she goes to get a cloth. She makes sure to not touch your clit but cleaning you up and then cleans herself up. She throws the cloth on the ground next to the strap and lays down beside you.

“Are you ok?” She asks you as you cuddle into her and place your hand on her boob.

“Ya, when I told you to take your jealousy out on me, you really went all in.” You say surprised and with a smile.

“It wasn’t too much?” She asks and you shake your head.

“It was perfect. The only complaint is that I couldn’t touch these magnificent breasts.” You tell her and squeeze them. She giggles and then goes on her back to let you touch her all you want. “You don’t have to worry btw. I’ve only had eyes for you and no one else.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Good, because I want you and don’t want anyone else to touch you.” She says as she strokes your cheek and you lean into her touch.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[hey-hey-j]

Okay hear me out. For the Flickory Egg-Bruce saves Floyd au thing. Cause canonically there is only a month between movie 2 and 3 (as much as I typically don’t subscribe to that personally it is more or less explicitly canon via Tiny Diamond’s age) so that means that Hickory doing his whole thing with Barb was happening WHILE FLOYD WAS CAPTIVE. So in my head I imagined like, Hickory explaining to Floyd that he’s got “a job” (idk how much Floyd knows about his man’s career choices lmao) and is like I gotta dip for a bit I won’t really be able to stay in contact but I /will/ be back. And then he leaves and like right after Floyd is like oh god there and egg oh GOD it’s Hickory’s and then cue kidnapping somewhere in there. And then after world tour Hickory comes back and Floyd is just GONE completely MIA and he has NO idea where he would have gone but cause Floyd is a pop troll and Hickory is literally friends with the Pop Queen he runs to Poppy like I HAVE A PROBLEM PLEASE and cue Poppy learning about the BroZone Branch thing via Hickory instead of JD and also HICKORY learning about it.

Just the face of him looking at Branch when Branch is like :squint eye emoji: did you just say Floyd? Like my brother? I mean not brother why would I have a brother HICKORY ARE YOU DATING MY NOT BROTHER???

no 'cause that's exactly how I've been picturing it going down. Picture Hickory taking the place of JD in this AU, essentially (and especially since they don't run into JD until way later here)

Branch tries not to get his hopes up initially because really, what are the odds that Hickory's Floyd is the same as his Floyd, right? Oh he's a Pop troll? Well what does he look like? 'Cause it's entirely possible that there just happens to be another missing Pop troll named—oh. Oh no yeah it's the same Floyd. Oh no. Oh no.

it's very funny to me that Branch has just spent an entire movie with this guy gallivanting around as a fake Country troll only to learn that this guy is, in fact, his brother's boyfriend

(also, for the sake of the AU I'm adding a few more months of time in between World Tour and Band Together. Hickory doesn't go to Poppy for help right away, maybe spends a few weeks trying to track down Floyd on his own before calling in his connections. At this point Floyd is already recuperating on Vacay Island but Hickory won't know this for a while.)

[you-aint-gotta-pray-for-me]

Hell on Earth: Chapter 1

words: 2.7k

pairing: Steve Harrington x ex-friend!Henderson!reader (eventually romantic- could be called a slow burn I guess, but they're not together right now, there's some bad blood, just read it man I suck at summarizing T_T)

summary: Things do not seem normal in simple, down-to-earth town Hawkins, Indiana. With Will Byers missing, tensions rise while the mystery claims another victim.

timeline: set in season one right after Will goes missing

warnings: language, bending of canon, fic from reader's pov (3rd person will be there as well, will warn before a pov change if there is one)

a/n: hey guys! so, I see you have found the first part of Hell on Earth :) This is a Steve x reader, yes, I promise we will get there and it'll be awesome when we do, but as much as it is a reader insert Steve slash fic, this is also an actual Stranger Things spin-off story that I'm writing, meaning there will be a lot of focus on the actual plot along with steve and reader's relationship. Also yes, reader is Dustin's older sister.

Reader POV

Will Byers was the kind of kid you wouldn't know was missing until you looked for him. He didn't bother anybody, just kept to himself and his little group doing whatever it is kids these days do, you know? He was a simple, soft-spoken kid, the last person you would wish danger upon. So when I heard that he'd gone missing, I was as confused as I was worried.

"And he was with you when you cycled back home?"

"Yes, Jesus Christ (Y/n), for the millionth time. Yes."

"Don't get annoyed you little shit, I'm trying to help you here."

"Oh, excuse me for getting worried because my best friend is freaking missing."

"Dustin! Don't talk to your sister like that!" I heard Mom scream at us from the living room, oblivious to any context. I mean, he was right to get annoyed with me. His exasperated look at Mom's comment told me he thought the same thing. I just shook my head in understanding. What more can I do?

"Listen, I know you want to go looking for him, I would too, but you can't go on your own. I need you to promise me you won't go on your own, okay? Wait after school, and we'll go together."

"You get off school like two hours after I do, what am I supposed to do, sit and scream his name from my room and hope he shows up? Come on, man. That's bullsh-"

"Dustin."

"What?"

I stared at him, hoping my disapproving-but-concerned-older-sister look told him what he needed to hear. It did.

"Fine. 2 hours. A minute late and I'm going off on my own."

"Deal," I said, knowing full well that I'd have to ditch Algebra II. I wasn't complaining, though. Staring at a newly painted wall and waiting for it to dry would be more interesting than Algebra II.

Later that day

I had exactly 5 minutes to bolt before Algebra II started. I went to my locker and hurriedly rammed all my shit inside when I noticed my locker neighbor Barbara coming towards hers. We'd make conversation when we're at our lockers and smile and wave when we saw each other in the hallway. Outside of that, I didn't really know her all too well.

"Algebra II?"

"Nah, I'm ditching. I promised my brother I'd help him with some stuff."

"Lucky," she sighed. "I can't believe I need to sit through Mr Treeger's bullshit for 2 hours."

"You are welcome to join me if you'd like," I offered with a grin. "Algebra II can be soul-sucking."

"Thank you, really, but I can't leave Nancy hanging. Besides, we've got this thing later as well and, yeah, it's a whole thing, don't bother," she explained.

"Suit yourself, Barb." I shut my locker and almost left before I heard her voice again.

"I mean, if you need notes or anything, I could- uh- I could take them for you? If you want?" she said, almost like she wasn't sure I would take her up on her offer.

"I would love that, actually. Where do you live?"

"Uh, I think I’ll be at Steve’s party later. At the Harrington's. You know the place?" She shifted her books like they suddenly weighed too much. Her expression said she wasn't entirely looking forward to this.

Hearing Steve's name threw me slightly on edge. When you grow up with somebody and you fall out with them, you don't exactly forget things about them. I practically spent half my life at his house. I practically spent half my life with him. So, yes. I definitely knew the place.

"Y-yeah. I do"

"Great, I'll have it ready, then."

"Barb, you are literally an angel." I hurriedly gave her an impromptu hug and rushed outside to get to my car, where I saw Jonathan Byers handing out missing posters. His shoulders sagged under the weight of the stack in his hands and he looked like he hadn't slept in days. I can only imagine what he and Mrs Byers were going through.

I hesitated for a second before walking up to him. I knew Jonathan from Dustin hanging out with Will. We weren't close friends or anything, but someone had to say something. His hands trembled slightly as he stapled one of the posters onto the community board near the lot, his eyes darting nervously like he was waiting for Will to suddenly appear and tell him it was all a joke.

"Hey, Jonathan."

He flinched at my voice, turning to me with an exhausted half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Hey," he mumbled.

I nodded at the posters in his hands. "Any updates? Are the cops, like… actually doing anything?"

"They found his cycle a few minutes from Mirkwood. So that's... yeah. That's it, I guess?"

"What are they thinking?"

He hesitated, glancing down at the posters like he thought they might hold some kind of answer. "They think he might’ve run away, but that’s not Will. He wouldn’t just… leave."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I don’t buy that either. Will’s not the type to just take off. He’s… dependable, you know?"

Jonathan looked at me for a moment, his expression softening just a little. "Thanks."

I shrugged, kicking at a loose rock on the ground. "For what? Telling the truth?"

"For… caring, I guess," he said, turning back to his work.

I watched him for a second longer, the weight of the whole situation sinking in deeper. "Let me know if you need help. With the posters or anything else."

Jonathan nodded, his focus back on the board. "Thanks," he said again, so quiet I almost missed it.

I didn’t know what else to say, so I just turned and walked back to my car, leaving him to keep stapling the same plea for help over and over.

I drove back home and Dustin was practically at the edge of his seat, looking like he was at the verge of explosion.

"What the hell took you so long?"

"Jesus Christ, I'm right on time. Give me a break."

He continued to yell at me about how time is of the essence. I held up a hand to calm him down. "Relax, I’m here now, aren’t I? Anyway, listen. They found some stuff near Mirkwood."

That got his attention. His eyes widened, his mouth snapping shut mid-rant. "What kind of stuff?"

I sat down across from him, leaning forward so Mom couldn’t overhear from the kitchen. "They found his bike. Just abandoned on the side of the road. No tracks, no clues, nothing else. It’s like he just… vanished."

Dustin’s face fell, his usual confident bravado cracking under the weight of what I’d just told him. "His bike?" he echoed, voice smaller now.

"Yeah. Cops are calling it ‘strange circumstances.’ I’m calling it suspicious as hell."

He nodded, jaw tightening as his brain started working overtime. "Okay. Okay, so that means he didn’t run away. Someone- or something- took him."

I flinched a little at how easily he jumped to "something." This was Hawkins. Strange wasn’t on the table.

"Dustin, don’t get carried away. Let’s stick to facts. We know where his bike was, and that’s it. But you promised me you wouldn’t do anything stupid, remember?"

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. "Fine. But we need to check it out. Together."

I sighed, knowing there was no talking him out of it. "Together. No sneaking off without me, got it?"

"Got it," he said, though I could tell from his tone he was already planning something.

A couple hours later

"So that was fucking useless."

"Dustin, come on. Don't be like that."

"We found nothing, (Y/n)! He's out there, probably being tortured for all we know, and we found literally nothing."

"Don't jump to conclusions. Yes, we don't know anything now. But we are not the only people looking. Okay?"

"I'm telling you. We should look for him right around when he went missing."

"No way I'm letting you go out there at 10 pm unsupervised. Mom would gut me."

"I won't be unsupervised if you're with me."

"Dustin," I sighed, slightly annoyed at how he wouldn't level with me at all. "Whatever happened to Will could be bigger than us. If it's something we can't handle, I don't want us to go all in with literally no information."

"Oh, come on! but-"

"No buts. Sit this one out. I am begging you. At least until we know something."

Even though he begrudgingly agreed, his words stuck with me. I hated the idea of him sneaking off on his own, but I also couldn’t shake the feeling that he was right. If there were answers out there, they wouldn’t come to us- we had to go to them. And if I knew Dustin at all, I knew exactly what that meant. He’d go anyway.

The only way for me to deal with this was to either find something before he did or supervise, just in case. And both those options required me to be out in the woods in the dead of the night. Perfect. I remembered that I had to stop by to see Barb so it won't all be for nothing.

The glow of streetlights flickered against the windshield as I pulled up to the Harringtons' house. The faint hum of music and muffled laughter carried through the warm night air, the telltale signs of a Steve Harrington classic. For a moment, I hesitated, fingers gripping the steering wheel. It had been a while since I’d set foot here, and it felt strange- nostalgic in a way that made my chest tight. I didn't like it.

I stepped out of the car and walked around the side of the house, avoiding the main door. I wasn’t here for the party, and I definitely wasn’t in the mood to exchange awkward hellos with people who probably didn’t even remember my name. Also, I might punch Tommy and Carol just because.

The backyard was bathed in the eerie blue glow of the pool lights. It was quieter here, the party sounds muffled by the distance. Sitting by the pool, her legs dangling lazily in the water, was Barb. She was hunched over slightly, fiddling with the strap of her watch, looking as out of place as I felt.

"Hey," I called softly, not wanting to startle her.

She looked up, her face lighting up with a small, relieved smile. "Oh, hey! You made it."

"Yeah," I said, walking over and sitting beside her on the cool concrete. "Figured I’d pick up those notes before your night gets too crazy," I said before I noticed her poorly bandaged hand bloody hand.

"Holy shit, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's... nothing. I'm okay."

"Partied too hard?"

Barb scoffed, glancing over her shoulder at the house. "Yeah, not exactly my scene. Nancy’s inside with Steve. I’m just... taking a break."

I nodded, leaning back on my palms and staring at the pool. Nancy's inside with Steve. That didn't bother me at all. "Can’t say I blame you. These things get out of hand quickly," I said, slightly regretting my hand pun.

She laughed at my poorly timed joke and reached into her bag to pull out a neatly folded piece of paper. "Here you go. Sorry if it’s a little messy. Mr. Treeger was really on one today."

I took the notes with a grateful smile. "You’re the best, Barb. Seriously."

She waved it off like it was no big deal. "It’s nothing. So, what are you up to?"

I reached into my bag and pulled out a worn paperback with a cracked spine and dog-eared pages. "Actually, I thought you might need this more than I do right now," I said, handing Barb my copy of The Shining.

Her eyes lit up as she took it, carefully running her fingers over the cover. "No way. I’ve been wanting to read this forever."

"Well, now you’ve got no excuse. It’s a classic. Just don’t read it alone at night unless you want to start hearing creepy voices in your house."

Barb laughed, flipping through the pages. "Thanks, (Y/n). This is awesome. I’ll take good care of it, promise." She looked up at me, her expression softening. "This one your favorite? "

"It's my comfort book, honestly"

"The Shining is your comfort book?".

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it. Besides, no matter how bad my day is going, everyone in that book is having a much worse, more horrible day."

She laughed and looked at me with a smile extending far beyond her eyes. "But seriously, why do you always have the best recommendations? Like, do you just spend all your time reading?"

"I wouldn’t say all my time," I joked, leaning back and shrugging. "But books don’t talk back or ditch you for better plans. So they’ve got that going for them."

Barb chuckled, but her smile faltered slightly, and she hesitated before asking, "Speaking of people ditching... can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to."

I glanced at her, curious. "Shoot."

"What happened with you and Steve? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking. You two seemed really close back then"

I froze for a moment, caught off guard by the question. It wasn’t exactly something I loved to think about, let alone talk about. Barb’s expression wasn’t nosy or judgmental- just genuinely curious. I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to say anything. But Barb was easy to talk to, and I felt like I could trust her.

"It’s... complicated," I said, exhaling sharply. "Before his, you know, 'coronation', King Steve and I were best friends. We practically grew up together. You stick with someone throughout middle school and still want to hang out? That's true friendship, right there."

She nodded like she related to what I was saying. "High School came and he changed. He wanted to hang out less, which was fine with me, you know? People change and everything," I paused for a second.

"It got bad only after Tommy and Carol started hanging out with him. He became this mean jerk, this person I could barely recognize. And I never got along with Tommy or Carol from the beginning, he knew that from the million times I have told him that I hate their guts. Hell, I've directly said it to Tommy and Carol. I just... I guess you could say we both grew up and became distant or whatever, but the fact is, he's just a colossal asshole now.

Barb frowned, clutching the book tighter. "That sucks. I’m sorry."

I shrugged, trying to play it off. "It’s whatever. We’re not kids anymore, and I guess we just outgrew each other. Besides, I’m not exactly missing out on this." I gestured toward the house, where someone let out an ear-piercing whoop, followed by the unmistakable sound of something breaking.

Barb laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, I don’t think either of us belong here."

"Hey, misery loves company, right?" I teased, bumping her shoulder lightly.

She smiled, a little more at ease now, and held up the book. "Thanks for this. I mean it."

"Don’t mention it," I said, standing up and brushing off my jeans. "Enjoy the book- and maybe steer clear of the creepy twins in the hallway."

Barb laughed again as I started to head back to my car.

"You sure you don't need a lift? Your house isn't too far, I don't mind."

"Really, it's ok, (Y/n). I'll just go whenever Nancy leaves."

"It's almost midnight, Barb, you sure?"

"I am. I really am."

[cosmicstarlatte]

Coffee Shop (Obey Me!)

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You start a new job at a coffee shop in a popular plaza. You can't help but look forward to a certain regular. ♡

»Characters: Demon Bros + Dia + Barb

»Tags: Fluff, Bulleted Style, GN Reader, LeviLeviLevi-

»Notes: lol when was the last time I made a bulleted fic that wasn't a shitpost???🤯 Just simple short fluff lol, reblogs are appreciated + motivating ♡

Lucifer:

Always orders a cafe con leche every morning

Keeps interactions short but you learned his name

Always so serious but he does look like a business man

A very very handsome business man cough

After working there for a little bit he admits he likes the way you make his drink & hates when you guys miss each other on days off

One day he comes in normal clothes & you got caught off guard when he made it to the register

"It's my day off but I was craving my usual. I'm glad to see you're here."

Pleaseee you gotta be blushing right now alalfkfldk

You notice the record store bag he's holding & start a fun conversation while its slow

It does get busier & unfortunately have to cut the conversation to both your disappointments

"We can continue this later...maybe over dinner if you're available?"

Mammon:

Usually gets an icy blended drink, the flavor changes frequently

You see him every other day, it looks like he works at a retail store in the plaza

You thought he was cute & funny despite how loud he could be

One day he defends you against a really rude customer

You say your thank yous & give him his drink for free that day

"Yeah I guess I am a hero. Heroes get free drinks all the time though, ya?"

You couldn't help but laugh & accidentally let slip "you're really cute!"

He starts choking on his drink, stuttering & blushing

He goes silent for a moment before asking, "whaddaya say to a date one of these days?"

Levi:

Usually orders sweet drinks & likes trying seasonal/limited time things

You've seen him at his job at the anime store in the plaza, since you visit there sometimes

You two are on friendly terms even though he can be awkward

You think he's very cute though, especially when he talks about his passions

You felt like you two were dancing around eachother so you decide to make a move

You drew a Gundam robot on his drink & wrote 'Gun-DAM you're cute!'

You nervously handed the drink & he took it without noticing the drawing on it

You watched as he left the shop,took another sip, then stop as he looked at his drink

You could see he was happily freaking out but then abruptly stop

He looked back to the shop & you waved a shy hello

He ran back inside to make sure, "S-sorry is this a mistake? W-was this for someone else??"

"Look on the bottom"

He raised the cup & looked under

Levi, AkuCon this weekend?

Satan:

Usually orders a simple cappuccino but will add a flavored syrup occasionally

Comes in often on his breaks

You've seen him working at the bookstore in the plaza

He looks like a simple guy yet very charming

You always notice a book on him & one day you decide to ask what he's reading

You learn you read the same things & start having fun conversations every time he stops by

Eventually he asks you if you'd be able to give your thoughts on his writing

"Sure, I'd be happy to read it if you bring it!"

He gave you a flirty smile

"Actually I was thinking maybe we could hang out...like somewhere that's not here?"

Asmo:

Always orders an iced vanilla oat milk latte

You see him every few days, really friendly customer that loves to chat & you become friends quick even though you want more

You find out he works at a nearby agency & is an up & coming model

You felt a little intimidated, he could be really famous one day!

Nevertheless you treat him just the same even as those around him changed, he lets you know how grateful he is

One day he comes in upset & tells you the agency is moving across town to a bigger location so he won't be able to see you there anymore

At the same time both of you blurt out

"I still wanna see you!"

Beel:

You never know with this guy

He works in the sports store across from the cafe

He's always indecisive with the menu & one day just tells you to make whatever

You're his fave barista, he thinks you make the best drinks either way

Doesn't realize he just likes everything & has a crush on you

You can't help but get excited when he looks excited to see you golden retriever energy

You find out he's a foodie type & you guys talk about the local spots around town

"Would you like to check out the new sandwich store that opened a few doors down? Uh...like, maybe a date?"

Belphie:

Usually orders a hot regular latte but occasionally orders hot chocolate

He appears to be a student as he comes in often to study & always looks tired

One day on your break you decide to chat him up & offer help on the subject he was struggling with

He thought you were cute & was thankful for your help

After a few weeks of tutoring (+some heavy flirting), he passed his exam flawlessly

"Actually can you help me with one other thing?"

"Yeah, what?"

"Would you like to go on a date sometime?"

Diavolo:

Has a new favorite every week but really likes lattes/teas

You can tell he's important with his assistant present

You wonder why the assistant doesnt just get his order though

Anyway hes hot really friendly & chatty & can tell a few good jokes, you appreciate them!

He always seems reluctant to leave the shop which makes your heart flip

Always leaves a big tip! ... I want him to give me a big tip 😔

The two of you find out you have a lot more in common than you thought

One day he admits that these coffee runs are the things he looks forward to the most since his day is usually very busy & doesn't get much else normalcy

He lets slip that it's mainly seeing you that adds to his joy so he goes all in

"If you're interested, care to join me for dinner this weekend?"

Barbatos:

Always large orders of a few different drinks (part of his job)

Though you notice he always orders tea for himself & likes to buy different tea blends

He's a very (cute) polite customer, one of the few

You two usually chat as you make his large order & you can't help but fall for him

Knowing he loves to buy limited release tea blends, you usually save him one before the cafe sells out

You never tell anyone about it but:

"I appreciate you always saving me one."

"Oh? How did you know!?"

"I have a friend who stopped by earlier & said it was one of those times they missed out. Yet, there always appears to be one for me even after sell-out. Thank you kindly."

You blush at being found out, "seems I've been caught!"

He chuckles & gives you another shock:

"I've been meaning to ask...will you allow me to take you out one of these days?"

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[mama-qwerty]

Loving your analysis on the Sonic 3 lore. May I request a deep dive into Agent Stone’s character? I just think he’s neat and had some character development throughout the films.

In talking about Agent Stone, we have to talk about Robotnik's mindset and dynamic in relation to him. Stone doesn't exist in a vacuum, and it's his relationship with Robotnik that helped shape him over the course of the movies.

Gonna get looooong. Again. Because I just can't shut up when I get started.

In the first movie, Stone's simply an assistant, an over achieving second to Robotnik. (Possibly the only agent who could stand to put up with him for so long.) He was a little brown nosey, and portrayed the stereotypical characteristics of a really good assistant that we see in other media, going back as far as Radar from M.A.S.H. He anticipated his boss' needs, and supplied them almost before they were requested.

Robotnik obviously didn't respect him, even if he liked how Stone made his latte. Although I'd be hard pressed to think of anyone Robotnik actually respected or liked, honestly.

But it was curious why Robotnik then created a likeness of Stone to keep him company on the mushroom planet. It could be explained away that Robotnik was used to talking about his plans out loud, used to spouting about how brilliant he was, and what he felt were clever quips and barbs at those he deemed 'lesser' than himself, and needed an audience to do so. Not to mention, having a 'companion' of sorts helped keep him focused. Since Stone had been his latest lackey, the most recent sycophant to hang on his every word, he simply went the most convenient route and used him as a placeholder for this required role.

But was that all there was to it?

Robotnik went to the trouble of carving a face onto the rock. Carrying it with him wherever he went as he traversed the planet, seeking out sustenance and shelter and concocting his Rube Goldbergian machinations to make himself a cup of mushroom coffee. As a man of science, a man who prioritized his own survival and logical nature over useless sentimentality, it's curious he would go to the trouble of not only creating a likeness of Stone, but 'wasting' precious energy and cargo space carrying it around.

Which indicated that Stone's presence had a greater impact on the doctor than he admitted or realized, even to himself.

This is further reinforced by the doctor's manifesto, as referenced in the Sonic 2 pre-quill comic. In that, we learn that Robotnik left this as a sort of instruction manual for Stone to "rebuild [Robotnik's] glory on a mass scale". It guided Stone to "rebuild [himself] as an instrument of pure science", and helped Stone to infiltrate the Mean Bean and rise through the ranks to ultimately own it, and create that as a home base for further operations.

This indicates that Robotnik saw promise in Stone, and trusted Stone more than he'd likely trusted anyone else. Yes, it was all to build a society that Robotnik orchestrated, but the fact that he created the manifesto, with the intention of having Stone read and implement it, showed a greater reliance on Stone than previously indicated.

So Stone is in place, having transformed the Mean Bean into a secret base worthy of the best super villains. And now he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

All the while having to deal with the public.

As anyone who's worked in any kind of customer service job can tell you, dealing with the public day in and day out can drive anyone to thoughts of villainy. That last customer Stone deals with is a prime example of this, with the rude looks and actions, and overall disdain and contempt for service people in general, and possibly him in particular.

He misses the doctor, because he understood the doctor. Robotnik was a big thinker, someone who had higher aspirations and goals than anyone he'd ever met before. He didn't hold a high opinion of the general public, and the more Stone deals with them, the more he understands that mindset. And through the manifesto, Stone likely felt even more connected to Robotnik.

It's possible that Stone's feelings for the doctor didn't start out as a more personal, emotional kind of love. It's possible, and likely, they were simply admiration, because Robotnik was incredibly intelligent, and never let anything stop him from achieving his goal. In Stone's experience, it was possible that the previous people he worked with didn't have that level of dedication. So when he got with Robotnik, it was refreshing to see someone taking his position seriously, and not simply 'doing a job'.

But when Robotnik was bested by the hedgehog, and sent to the mushroom planet, Stone may have felt a little rudderless. Since he was working with Robotnik, and Robotnik himself had been wiped from GUN's database, Stone may have been a casualty of that as well. He was simply a 'lowly agent', so it wasn't that much of a loss to wipe him, too.

Either that, or he intentionally kept himself hidden to avoid being captured and grilled regarding anything else Robotnik may have been doing. Stone strikes me as the kind of man who can blend in with a crowd, and disappear at will.

He knows the system, and knows how to exploit it.

When the doctor returned, Stone was thrilled. Everything he'd worked for up to this point was finally going to be recognized, and he wanted nothing more than to pick up where he and the doctor left off, working together and striving for a better world.

Since Stone had been working at the Mean Bean, a place within Green Hills, he likely saw Sonic on and off. He couldn't blow his cover, no one knew he'd worked with Robotnik, after all, but GOD, seeing that hedgehog would have made the bile rise in his throat. This little alien, this cocky little furball had bested the doctor and sent him away, as though he were in the wrong. And this entire town supported it! And here was this blue rat, living here on Earth as though he belonged.

That fact alone would have pushed Stone even further to the side of Robotnik, thinking that the general public is nothing but "primitive, sport-cheering, social media-scrolling knuckle-draggers". They'd cheered the defeat of a genius, one who was simply trying to capture this unknown alien element that has proven itself capable of destruction on a mass scale, and call him the bad guy. Yes, his methods had been maybe a little unorthodox, but when dealing with such an enemy as an alien with super speed and the ability to create large blasts of energy, you had to think outside the box.

But he was finally back, and he'd brought yet another little spiky furball. And had left with it, leaving Stone behind yet again. But that was okay. He would return. Stone was sure of it.

And he had. But he'd been . . . different. Gotten the Master Emerald, and was . . . changed. And when GUN showed up, Robotnik had put his genius on display, and taken Stone with him this time. It was glorious, but had taken Stone a little bit to catch up. (Thankfully there was a manual!)

Then everything had gone pearshaped again, and those furballs won.

No matter.

Stone was a patient man.

He knew GUN's procedures and it took hardly a moment to infiltrate their ranks. He used their own technology and manpower to find Robotnik amid the rubble, and scurried him away to heal and regroup. One of the things included in the manifesto was blueprints of many machines and creations, and Stone had put Robotnik's drones to work building a giant crab bot.

GUN may have had eyes everywhere, but the ocean was still a mystery in may ways. And it hid may a secret.

But as the doctor healed, he fell into a deep depression. Being bested by the blue rodent not once, but twice, had done a number on his psyche. He'd lost all drive for world domination. His access to any of his drones and bots had been all but severed, and there were only a scant few satellites still in orbit with them aboard. Hardly enough to wage an all out assault, especially with THREE alien vermin on Earth to challenge him.

No. Robotnik was utterly demoralized.

But Stone stayed by his side. He kept Robotnik comfortable, and tried to reignite that spark within him. Tried to suggest heists and schemes to keep his spirits up. But it was to no avail. Stone stepped up, assuming a caretaker role, and offering support whenever he could.

He kept tabs on GUN's comings and goings, and when the board lit up after Shadow was released, he went to investigate. He found those rodents pinned down by drones, but not just any drones, Robotnik drones. This wouldn't do. If anyone was going to use those drones to take out these annoying little furballs, it would be Robotnik himself.

So he killed the drones--with the annoying side effect of saving the rodents--and returned to base. The aliens had followed, but he was keen enough to realize they had a common enemy.

An alliance was formed, and Stone had to admit that it was good to see the doctor more like his old self. Unsurprisingly, Robotnik very quickly narrowed down the source of the hijacked drones, and the group quickly went to investigate.

But then they'd found that old man. And Robotnik had tossed Stone to the curb because suddenly he had found his 'real' family, someone who would love him unconditionally.

And it hurt.

Stone never fooled himself to think he was ever on Robotnik's level. He was nowhere near as smart as the doctor, and couldn't even comprehend how the man thought. But he'd thought they were more than simply villain and henchman. Robotnik trusted Stone, more than he'd ever trusted anyone else. Stone had seen Robotnik at his lowest. At his most vulnerable. And didn't care.

Typical henchmen wouldn't stick around when the boss is defeated. They wouldn't drag his body out from under a felled robot and keep him safe. Help him heal. Fetch him burritos and cheap novels and steal cable to hook him up with episodes of La Ultima Pasion to help him pass the time.

Stone was still following Robotnik's manifesto, even when Robotnik himself had given up. Because he had faith that the doctor would eventually snap back to himself. That he would realize that the world needed him to correct it.

And that someday, maybe, Robotnik would see Stone for being the one person who'd stood by him, from the very beginning.

And he had.

When it was too late.

Robotnik's message to Stone as he managed to stave off the final explosion of the ARK gave Stone that validation he'd been looking for. Told Stone that, even though Robotnik was terrible at expressing himself, he had, in his own way, loved Stone right back. Appreciated Stone. Valued Stone.

And that's all Stone had ever wanted to hear.

And maybe, that gives Stone the encouragement he needs to continue with Robotnik's manifesto.

~~~

Check out my other Sonic 3 analysis posts

[galaxyedging]

College Max Phillips x f!reader. Friends to enemies to lovers.

WC:2.3k

Max is the ideal roommate until he isn't.

Warnings: Smut. Male and female masturbation. P in V sex. Dub con if you really squint. Overstimulation.

Roommate Agreement

“Max Fucking Phillips!” The roar leaves you as soon as you slam the door.

It echoes through the stylish yet modest off-campus apartment you can afford now that you have a roommate. An apartment that you will sorely miss when you can't afford it because you've murdered your roommate.

“If you're going to summon me like that, at least use my correct full name, Maxwell Fuckington-Phillips.” A head of over gelled hair comes around the corner to narrowly miss being hit by one of your shoes. “The third.”

“Don't! Just don't! Did you tell my date that I have baby fever and I'm just in college to earn my MRS?” Your tone is even and calm despite you wanting to rip Max's head off. He'll get what's coming to him, first you want confirmation.

“I was joking with the guy. You know, like when you told my date I was a STD ridden man whore.” He shrugs sliding onto the sofa.

“I told you that I didn't know she was your date. I know her from one of my classes. Plus, I wasn't joking. I saved her a course of medication and probably months of therapy from the serious regret she would have the next morning.” Your dig didn't even phase Max. 

The endless to and fro of barbs had started about three months after Max moved in. Before that the two of you were practically inseparable. Max had tutored you for a few months. To break up the monotony of studying, you would go grab something to eat and idly chat. For some reason, even though you were very different people, you got on well. When your friend pulled out of renting the apartment the day you needed to sign the lease, Max was the first person you offered it to. He took one look at the place and signed on the spot. The owner was an older lady who was just happy to have someone living above her store. The people who rented that from her commuted from the suburbs, leaving the whole building empty at night. Perfect for a couple of college kids. Until you realised that you couldn't stand each other.

“So what? You're just going to punish me?” You huff at him.

“Hey, if I don't get laid, why should you?” There was an undercurrent of genuine annoyance in his tone.

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know if you know this….but women talk. My dick is blacklisted.” He looked sorry for himself at his admission.

It only takes about two seconds for the laughter you were trying so hard to keep in bursts out. “I'm sorry. It's just funny.”

“I'm glad I've found some way to amuse you rather than you being an uptight bitch to me.” 

“I meant the blacklisted dick part was funny. Not the situation, asshole. So is that why you're ruining my dates? You're jealous that someone else might get some? Fuck you, Max.”

“Maybe that would solve the problem. You caused this dry spell. Maybe you should moisten it.”

Trying hard not to gag at the imagery or the word moisten, all you can think to do is flip him off while you find your words.

“Oh, so you're the other kind of jealous. Not of me, of the guys I might bring home? Do you want me that bad Max?” Your pout at him leaning over in your date night dress so he can see right down the front of it and your lack of a bra.

“Please, if I wanted you. I would have had you months ago.” Max tells your cleavage.

“Yeah, right. My eyes are up here.” Walking deeper into the apartment, you head for your room. “Since my date didn't go well, I'm getting my best toy out. Her name is Jessica. I usually wait until you are out but I guess you'll just have to wear earplugs to bed.”

“You have fun with Jessica, try not to think about me too much.” Max bites at your heels as he catches up and brushes past you down the short corridor to his own bedroom.

Jessica glistens in the low candle light, fully covered in lube and ready to go. Even the scented candles and relaxing oils hadn't loosen you up enough to be able to give Jessica the welcome she deserves. 

‘Fuck. Who does he think he is?’ Trying your best to calm your thoughts you undo your robe and let it fall from your body. Licking your fingertips, you idly trace one of your nipples until it reacts under your touch. The other one gets the same treatment before you take the full breast in each hand and knead them gently. Eventually you feel the pull of your pussy needing your attention. As soon as you reach your folds, you find that Jessica might be up to bat sooner than you thought. Now that you're looser, your pussy is practically dripping. As you slick up your clit and begin to circle it, you tell yourself your arousal has nothing to do with Max. Nothing to do with the thought of him being all pent up and how easily he would come apart underneath you. Nothing to do with the thought of taking his pretty cock in your mouth. And it was pretty. You accidentally walked in on him getting out of the shower and may have dragged your feet, just a little, getting out of there. There is no denying that Max is hot but he is still such an asshole. Fresh anger flares in you as Jessica nestles deep inside you. The first button you tap brings her head to life rotating inside you. The second makes her ears twitch against your clit. Usually you would let the woman work and build you to a steady, satisfying climax. Tonight was different, gripping the base of her, you angle her where you need her and begin to pump her in and out, hard. With your free hand gripping the metal bed frame above your head the whole thing begins to squeak with your movements. There is not one single fuck to be spared for Max as your moans sound out just as loudly. It barely takes any time at all for you to reach the edge. Going over it a litany of curses spill from your lips. Laying there, head thick from your high time seems irrelevant until you need to pee and have to gingerly remove faithful Jessica from being tightly gripped inside your body. After you get the two of you cleaned up, you slip back into bed. Sleep tugs at you until you hear the rhythmic thud of a headboard against a wall.

Max already had a chub on at the sight of you poured into that dress but once he got a good view of the swell of your tits and a peek of your nipples, he was fully hard. He did intend to jerk off quickly, so he could just get to sleep and forget your fight. Then he heard it, the distinct low buzz of a vibrator. Fuck. He thought about your teasing your cunt until you came writhing and twitching on the cheap substitute for his dick. He listened as he raided his bedside drawer for some toys of his own. He filled his sleeve with some lube and pumped his long, thin dildo inside of it ensuring they were both covered. His pillows became makeshift pillowy thighs as he placed his cock sleeve between them in the middle of his bed. His cock twitched with interest as your moans grew louder. His own utterances of fuck and shit as he sheathed he cock were hidden under yours as you came. Max had to take a moment to squeeze his cock so he didn't blow his load there and then. When he felt the need pass he spread his legs to push his own dildo between his asscheeks into his greedy hole. He lays flat to catch his sleeved cock between his body and the bed. While his hips work back and forth he keeps the dildo still so he's either fucking or being fucked with each thrust. He doesn't give a shit if his moans sound pitiful. They are. He's so pent up and this feels so good. The sounds of your enjoyment still free in his ears and the sight of your tits still on his eyelids is the icing on the cake. He pants, moans and whines his way to his peek as he jack rabbits into the mattress. 

“Oh! God!” he moans when his eyes roll back in his head and his balls empty into the toy. 

He's so loud, he doesn't hear the door open or your footsteps on the floor. He only realises you're there when the bed dips next to him. In his blissed out state he doesn't care that he's laying completely naked with a dildo sticking out of his ass. He cares a little more when you nudge it further into him.

Whatever Max says is lost in his pillow. 

“Don't say a fucking thing. Don't spoil it, just shut up.” You make it clear that the last thing you want to hear is his voice. Unless it's whining in pleasure.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He grins stupidly.

“What did I say?!”

“Don't be so grumpy.” He teases. “Are you going to play with my ass or what?”

You answer by pressing the tip right up to his prostate and rolling it up and down over the gland. 

“Fuck. Stop. I can't…” Max pants.

“Oh, poor baby. Are you over-stimulated?” You tease right back working the toy harder.

“Fuck. I'm serious. I…” his annoying complaints are cut off by your lips. 

As Max's lips melt into the kiss, the rest of his body tenses. His head snaps away from yours to bite down on his pillow as he comes again.

“‘uck me!” Is all he can grit out until he releases the thick material. “Fuck. That was…fuck. How did you…? Come on.” Max's earlier bonelessness dissipates as he drags you toward him while turning over and simultaneously removing the toy from his twice spent cock. 

“Come on. Sit on my face. Suffocate me with your cunt until I'm hard again then you can show me how to do that.” Half of that shouted from between your legs.

“Max! I…oh!” You almost squeal as his hot muscle goes straight for your hole. His tongue swirls through your release while he drinks it down like some crazed mythological creature who feeds on bodily fluids. He only pauses to beg you to blow him. Which you oblige to since the sight of his cock getting hard just from eating you out makes you eager to bounce on it. He grows bigger and thicker in your mouth while you do your best to suck in-between moans. Max has moved to sucking on your clit now the sudden intrusion of two thick fingers has you coming on them. 

Max might be a loser in the personality department but he's definitely a winner in refractory period stakes. His cock is rigid again in an impressively short amount of time. Swinging your leg back over his head you shuffle down the bed ready to straddle his hips and eagerly ride his cock.

“I want to be on top.” Max complains.

“Tough.”

His length drags against the heat of your core as he tries to buck you off. “Max!” You half moan, half chide. “No!”

It's Max's turn to moan when you trap his cock between your wet core and his body. He can't help but grind against you a little.

“This is getting us nowhere.” You huff. “Speak for yourself.” Max sighs, gripping your hips to slide you on his length.

“Max! Come on. Guess we could compromise. Doggy?” You supply.

“Fuck, yes.” Max ungraciously bucks you off of him to scramble behind you while you get on all fours.

Just as you get your balance, Max slides home in one fluid motion. For the first time in a long time the two of you seem to be in agreement. Both letting out sighs of contentment. Max starts to thrust and you stay firm to meet every one. It's rough and nasty, and everything you both need. The sounds of skin slapping and fluids gushing fills the room. The two of you moan, grunt and swear like vulgar animals. Sweat covers both of you from the effort of trying to out fuck the other. In the end the two of you climax in perfect sync. Max doesn't ask before finishing inside of you. His cum fills you deeply as he works you both to draw out your highs. 

“Looks like we found something we can agree on.” Max pants sprawling out over the bed.

Shoving past him to go pee you add “Yeah. Plus you are like seventy five percent less annoying during sex.”

“Wow. You keep flattering me like that and I'll think you're sweet on me.” Max called after you.

For a moment in the post coital haze, you think back to when things between you were good. At one point, you really did like Max. He was good company. Smart. Even sweet on occasion. He’s handsome, driven, great in bed. Entering the bathroom and not even stopping to flip on the light or close the door you move on muscle memory while the urge to pee gets stronger. You lower yourself down to the toilet….and almost fall in because the toilet seat is up. “Maxwell Fuckington Phillips…the third!”