#but the most annoying and stressful part is done at least

[dustofthedailylife]

I think I never shared an update but our Japan vacation is fully booked now including the hotels and AirBNBs we're staying at. I'll be there for two weeks in August!

It still feels so surreal. This has been a dream of mine for so long 😭💕

[exopelagic]

ohhhh my supervisor is so sick of me

[your-nanas-house]

The Beginning

◇ Pairing: Tom Riddle X professor!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, manipulation, forbidden relationship, Tom Riddle, bath, nudity, dub-con, short age gap

◇ Summary: Tom notices that his favourite professor is a bit stressed.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Both character are aged up. Part 2 Part 3

The room was filled with the chit chat of students who were taking the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, a subject often called simply DADA by everyone.

In the background of the big lesson room, there was soft music that created an almost pleasant atmosphere in contrast to the type of class that was taking place which had quite heavy topics that frightened many and intrigued others.

One of those people who were fascinated by the subject was Tom Riddle himself, clever boy, Slytherin and much more, especially the darling of professors, of every professor, except Albus Dumbledore, so the young professor Y/l/n was no exception.

There was a special bond between the wunderkind student and the professor, almost intimate if someone misinterpreted it but it was nothing like that or at least that was how it was for Y/n, the young witch had only managed to get her job a few years earlier and right from the start, thanks to the passion for her subject shared with Tom, they began to bond.

The Slytherin student who had now come of age and managed to become the head boy as well as a prefect, had approached the teacher to find out more secrets about magic and because he surprisingly found their conversations interesting as well as entertaining.

This was the real reason why he had started a few months after he met her to pretend to meet her by chance while walking around the castle, thus starting a routine between the two of them that happened almost every day if Y/n wasn't busy with her duties as a Hogwarts professor, which happened sometimes and which annoyed Tom for some strange reason.

Y/n was convinced that Tom saw her as a mother figure, someone to follow and learn from, and so did the young adult, but everything changed one evening.

After a busy astronomy lesson Tom wanted to visit his favorite teacher before heading back to his dormitory but when he reached the door of her classroom, hoping to find her still there, voices made him stop in his tracks.

The door was slightly open and he could easily see what was going on inside Miss Y/l/n's classroom.

She was inside, leaned against a table as she listened attentively to what someone was saying to her, Tom couldn't recognise the man so close to the woman with that look that the student had learned was lustful from the experience of his peers.

The whole situation awakened something all too well known inside the Slytherin heir, envy, pure green envy and resentment turned against them, something animalistic flared up inside him, a need to prove himself just as he had done at the orphanage when he was still a child.

Perhaps that was the reason that started the break of the platonic feelings the student had for his teacher.

New thoughts ran through his head as he decided how to move the pawns of his game in such a way as to receive what he wanted and thought he deserved, waiting patiently for the most suitable moment which came one summer night.

It had been a few months since the beginning of her senior year but they were almost at the end, his attitude had not changed in the slightest towards Miss Y/n and so the young woman did not suspect anything when she received a letter from Tom asking her for urgent help and giving her the coordinates of where to meet.

Worried, the young woman rushed to what she discovered was the prefects' bathroom, she was breathing heavily and was ready to solve whatever the problem was.

The young woman however had expected everything but her favorite student to wander calmly around the bathroom as he arranged the water and suds, meeting her eyes with his cold black ones, a faint smile forming on his face when he spoke "professor".

The atmosphere was suspicious in a way, suspicious but relaxing, since the aroma of soap filled the room as Tom tended to his clothes leaving them propped elegantly on a chair so they couldn't get wet "what's going on, Tom? I got your owl and I came as soon as I could" Y/n declared while she looked around, studying the bathroom in order to understand the riddle and discover why Tom Riddle had made her run all the way there.

She didn't even realize what the boy was doing before he was surrounded by the water and the foam caught her attention again.

Tom was standing in the tub, his clothes forgotten on the chair as the water made his pale skin and nearly Greek god muscles stand out; Y/n couldn't help but notice how his student had grown over the summer, making space for a decidedly attractive young man who reminded her very much of a Greek statue while her y/e/c moved around studying the parts of his skin on view, reaching his neck and finally his face.

She only realised she was holding her breath when their eyes met again, the situation they were in became much clearer to her and a blush appeared on her face making her turn quickly to give privacy to the young man who was staring at her amused with an unfamiliar twinkle behind his pitch black eyes.

She could hear him moving in the water, probably moving closer to where she was before speaking again "I've noticed that you are under a lot of stress lately....I thought a bath might help you, professor" the Slytherin revealed with a mischievous smile that relented slightly when she politely declined several times before attempting to leave the room, soon ending up in the water though, Tom's arms wrapped around her as if they were two snakes, his breath was warm against her neck and she could feel him take in her scent before letting his lips graze the delicate skin of that area "I know you want it too" whispered the young man almost in an attempt to seduce her as he sensed the shiver that ran through her body.

"No one will have to know, my mouth will remain closed" he whispered again, licking this time behind her ear before starting to play with her lobe using his teeth "come on...professor".

Miss Y/l/n's eyes flattered closed despite the fact that she tried to fight her lust, but it was immensely difficult with Tom's large, long hands, which traveled slowly all over her body exploring and almost expertly touching the areas that would make her give in.

It was as if there was a study behind it, his hands traveled with the wisdom of someone who had studied but not yet experimented with practice, this however did not silence the voices telling her not to do it.

The struggle in her head continued and the more time passed the harder it was to resist, especially now that the young adult's body was right against her back and she could feel everything from his muscular chest to his abs to his hard cock against her lower back.

His warm breath was against her now cold neck, making her

shiver and sigh deeply memorising how Tom was touching her because it had been quite some time since she had fucked anyone.

Despite the urge boiling inside her, Y/n shifted, slipping from the wizard's strong grip, stopping his next movements by placing her hand on his smooth chest.

Tom's black eyes met her y/e/c's, his large hand with long, skinny fingers wrapped around her wrist, slowly moving it to his lips, his tongue tracing its way to the inside of her hand before stopping to allow their lips to meet in a strangely soft kiss.

Miss Y/n's tits were against Tom's muscular, pale chest, her hands buried in his black hair as the boy's arms were around her waist bringing her even closer to him.

Their lips moved slowly, both of them lost in the shared sensation, exploring one of the tastes after another. It all ended, however, when Y/n regained control, noticing the head of his cock brushing against her entrance almost as if teasing her.

Reason because she forced herself to pull Tom away from her before licking her lips, weighing up her various options, she wasn't going to go all through with one of her students, it wasn't even supposed to end up like this and yet there she was in a bath with the most talented student at Hogwarts trying to seduce her.

Tom moved closer just as her internal debate ended, it only took her hand to stop him and her gaze followed by a teacher's tone to make him obey "get out of the water, sit on the edge of the pool...this is to stay between us, it won't happen again and I don't want to talk about it ever again, do you understand?" she asked after a few seconds the last question before admiring how Tom's body, shifted and emerged from the water to position itself like she had asked.

And there he was, Tom Marvolo Riddle, in all his glory and nakedness, his legs spread for her and an intense gaze focused solely on her. The young professor had listened to several conversations of the horny schoolgirls going after Tom but had not at all expected what she had in front of her now.

That didn't frighten her though, they had already reached a moment of no return and her hands instinctively moved to the young man's muscular, hairy thighs; they traveled a slow, teasing pace that made all the remaining blood go right down into his now rock hard cock.

The wizard admired closely as Y/n's hands moved over his length, pumping him a couple of times using the water as lubricant before she moved her face closer and left little licks on the tip.

Their eyes met and her mouth continued to work on him, exactly as her hands did, causing small moans followed by hisses that came out of Tom's perfect lips.

His dark eyes had not yet moved away from her just as Y/e/c's were still focused on him, it was intense.

Her tongue came out of her mouth to lick the entire length a couple of times and then take him completely in her mouth, deep throating him without him expecting it.

Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, Tom's thighs shaked slightly under her hands as sinful grunts escaped his lips; his hips began to move without even meaning to, his tingling hand lusting for dominance gripped her wet hair in a tight grip so that he could choose his movements.

His hips moved swiftly as he fucked her mouth mercilessly focused on achieving his first peak of pleasure, it was a almost suffocation feeling, Tom needed more, much more, but he had almost reached his peak.

The wizard only released his hold when he came, now leaving Y/n free to move as she wanted, despite this the young witch focused her attention till the end on his tip, sucking gently as her hands massaged his balls almost as if she was milking him.

As soon as she realized she had taken every last drop, Y/n slowly pulled away, swallowing it all while looking into Tom's eyes.

The young professor had to avoid him in order to reach the entrance to the prefects' door without falling for another attempt at seduction by the student.

The two looked at each other in silence, Tom wanted to say something but Y/n silenced him with one last kiss, followed by an elegant movement of her wand and three words "this stays here".

As soon as she finished speaking she walked out of the bathroom leaving Tom standing there all alone, looking at the door, his body now dry and his uniform back, it was as if nothing had happened, as if everything had only been in his head but the lipstick marks proved something else.

In fact they only confirmed the wonderful and unexpected sensations he had felt in those few minutes he had been with her, he knew that she had sensed that it was the first time he had done this kind of activity but he also knew that she wanted more, he wanted more, there was something more and Tom was going to take it at all costs.

Things had not begun and ended that night in the prefects' bathroom at Hogwarts, the wizard would make sure of that and he would not put an end to what he had managed to get…what he had been craving for some time and now knew he could have.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @huntress-valkyrie , @lostmyremembrall, @pastelpiisces

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 (𝟏)

PART ONE | PART TWO

pairing: singledad!steve harrington x divorcedmom!fem!reader

word count: 9.4k words

summary: in which you hate him and he hates you— and that mutual disliking is perhaps the only thing you and him agree on. you make it your mission to avoid and ignore steve at all costs, and nothing more or less than withering stares and annoyed eye rolls are shared among you both whenever you have to see each other, which luckily isn’t that often. but when your son and his daughter end up in the same first-grade class and quickly become friends, it forces things to change between you two. it means that you and him also have to be friends, or, at the very least, tolerate each other’s presence. which is something that is much easier said than done

warnings: modern!au, enemies (to friends) to lovers, steve and reader are in their late 20s/early 30s, bestfriend!eddie, mentions of cheating/an affair (reader’s ex was an absolute asshole), explicit language, some angst

author’s note: i had the idea for this lil two part mini series (and have been working on it on and off) for like a thousand years at this point and i'm so glad and excited that it's finally free from the jail cell that is my google docs lol. i really really wanted to finish this and have it up before this year was over, so part two is coming new year's eve<3333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

For the first time in the past two weeks, you were early. Granted it was only by two minutes, but you still counted that as a win. 

You stepped out of your car and headed to where the other parents were on the sidewalk, waiting for school to be over and the kids to come out. You inwardly ran through the list of things that you still had to do today— on a Friday that should’ve been calm, but instead, it had been pretty hectic. 

It felt like pure luck that you were able to step away from your coffee shop for thirty minutes to pick up Oliver from school. God bless Jude for being willing to take over the rush that was happening. She was your favorite employee, and you knew that she definitely deserved a raise for being able to effectively keep up with the insanity that the last two weeks brought.

That transition from summer into the beginning of the new school year was harder than you had anticipated, and you knew it was mainly because this time last year you weren’t running a business full-time when Oliver had been starting Kindergarten. Instead, the coffee shop was still just an idea, a dream, that felt like it solely lived in your head; even though it had actually been in its final stages, and with each passing day, you only got closer and closer to that October opening date. And when the long-awaited opening finally came, it actually didn’t alleviate an ounce of your stress; instead, it was only increased practically tenfold. 

You’d never say it out loud for fear of being deemed as a bad mom, but it was so fucking hard juggling everything and trying to handle it all.

However, somehow, you were doing it and you were actually doing it pretty well. Although at most times it felt like you were so close to drowning, for the time being, your head was completely above water.

You kept running through your mental to-do list as you waited for the time to go from 2:29pm to 2:30pm, indicating the official end of the school day.

Call the vendors that supply the coffee beans and teas and see if they can change the next delivery date, finalize the work schedule for next week, prep the ingredients for the pastries that will be baked tomorrow—

Your eyes instinctively went to check the time on your watch right as the first handful of kids came barreling out of the front doors. 

When you saw Olly, you waved until his eyes landed on you and he immediately smiled. 

Suddenly, you couldn’t care less about the time and the rest of the shit that you needed to do throughout the day.

“I made a new friend!” Were the first words he said to you when he came over to where you stood.

“That’s awesome!” You kneeled down so that you were pretty much at eye level with him. Hearing him say that made your heart feel so happy. You knew how shy he could be and he rarely ever talked about any kids that he was friends with, especially not with this much enthusiasm. “Who is it?” 

“Maddie,” He answered and then pointed in the direction of where you assumed the girl was standing.

There were a handful of kids standing with their parents in the direction Olly was pointing to about ten or fifteen feet away, but when he further specified that she was “the girl holding the blue lunchbox,” you saw her. A girl with brown hair who was smiling at her dad who was smiling back at her and holding a hand up so that she could give it a high five. 

You recognized him immediately.

In your mind, his name was “the worst person in the world.” In reality, his name was Steve Harrington. 

You didn’t really pay attention to him until this past January because your kids weren’t in the same Kindergarten class. You actually didn’t even learn that he was the only other single parent in the grade until then. 

It was one of your New Year’s resolutions to become more active and involved in school activities, PTA meetings, etc. Mainly because you knew that the other Kindergarten moms were judging you for barely doing anything aside from the occasional bake sale and the school was way too small for you to slip under the radar and not be noticed; those moms noticed everything. 

Therefore, on the first meeting back after the Winter holiday break, you were there— five minutes late, but there nonetheless. Although, it could’ve been assumed that everyone thought you were an hour late with the amount of withering looks you received when you entered the gymnasium. 

You offered a small apologetic smile and made a mental note to never be even a minute late again. 

Leslie, the PTA president, was droning on and on about what big things were planned for the second half of the school year— somehow dragging out a short list of things that you thought could’ve been simply sent out in a mass email— when Steve walked in fifteen minutes after you. You fully expected him to receive the same type of annoyed looks that you had gotten, and maybe even more because he showed up later than you, but he got nothing but happy smiles from the majority of the moms. 

That complete opposite reaction severely confused you and you wondered how he was able to receive such niceness when all you got was the coldest of shoulders. 

Meeting after meeting it was continuously proven that he was the favorite among the moms, and it didn’t take you too long to learn why. He was a charmer, which everyone absolutely loved, and he seemed to effortlessly throw money at any school activity or fundraising event, another reason why he was so goddamn adored. 

You were probably the only one that didn’t give a fuck about his charming personality, and instead, you would inwardly roll your eyes or scoff at pretty much anything he’d say and how easily the moms ate it up. Because when you really looked at it, you two were pretty much doing the same exact things— only moderately participating in events, showing up to the big monthly meetings instead of the weekly ones (and he was still always late to them), and not signing up for fields trips or activities that happened during school hours because of how overly demanding your jobs were; you’d learned from one particularly chatty mom that he worked at a pretty intense marketing firm. However, there was such a stark difference in treatment because he was the “hot single dad that gave a lot of money;” all of the moms practically fell at his feet and seemed to only tolerate you.

Maybe it was a hint of jealousy talking, but he still always managed to piss you off and you didn’t like him at all. It was an animosity that was perhaps just one-sided, and you hated yourself for caring so much, but that changed in April; during a moment where if the circumstances were different, it would’ve felt like some sort of romcom-esque “meet cute.” But, you basically despised Steve, so instead the whole situation just made your blood boil. 

It was a Thursday at almost five o’clock during parent-teacher conference week; it was the only day that could work in your insanely busy schedule and you managed to get the latest time slot with Oliver’s teacher. You were pacing in the hallway where all three of the Kindergarten classrooms were; a coffee in one hand, because it was the only thing keeping you going that late in the day, and your phone in the other as you texted back an employee who was having problems with the oven. You were seconds away from calling him— because you knew that the issue would probably be solved quicker if you did so— but before you could, you were bombarded by someone who was quickly coming around the corner and they crashed into you. The abrupt collision was forceful enough to make your drink spill on you and your phone slip out of your hand. 

You glanced down at your now coffee-stained white shirt and then up at the person who had caused this mess, and of course, it was Steve Harrington standing in front of you. You had to fight the immediate urge to roll your eyes. 

“Oh, shit. My bad,” He quickly said. “I’m minutes away from being late for my parent-teacher meeting, so I was rushing from the parking lot. Now it really does make sense why teachers always said no running in the halls, right? Because something like this can happen.” As he rambled, you picked up your phone off the ground, glad that it wasn’t broken, and then you tossed your now mostly empty coffee cup into the trash can nearby. When you looked back at him, you saw that he was fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. “Anyway, maybe I can pay for your dry cleaning? Or so you can at least get another coffee later or tomorrow?”

If it had been anyone else, you would’ve thought that the gesture was nice. But, since it was coming from Steve Harrington it only pissed you off because, of course, money was his immediate thought solution.

That time it was too difficult to not allow yourself to roll your eyes at him. “Y’know, throwing money at everything doesn’t make you a good dad. It actually makes you kind of an asshole.” 

You knew that you were being a little too harsh, but it was still too hard to feel completely regretful about your words; you were pissed at this current situation that was fully caused by him and you were also pissed simply because he was him.

You weren’t sure what you expected Steve to respond with, but he easily matched your angry energy. He narrowed his eyes at you. “Well, at least, I can do something. You barely show up to things and can’t give money to make up for it, so how much of a ‘good mom’ does that make you?”

Before you could say anything in response to that— a response that probably would’ve started and ended with a simple “Fuck you”— you heard your name being called from behind you by Oliver’s teacher. With everything happening with the man in front of you right then, you’d almost forgotten the meeting you were at the school for in the first place. 

Instead of saying anything to Steve, you simply buttoned up the black cardigan you were wearing to cover the majority of the coffee stain on your shirt and then walked away from him, putting on a smile and greeting Miss Wilson.

It wasn’t outwardly stated right then, but it was pretty much sealed then that this disliking could no longer be confused for being something that was one-sided. You two hadn’t said any words to each other since that moment in the hallway, and instead only annoyed looks and glares were shared anytime you saw one another; which lucky for you, actually wasn’t too frequent. 

On the first day of school, you learned that his daughter was in the same First Grade class as Oliver due to the emergency contact form all the parents had to fill out, which was then condensed into one sheet and shared among everyone for “just in case” purposes, and Steve’s name and number was on there. You really didn’t think it would be that big of a deal because you could still avoid him like the plague that he was, and that was exactly what you’d been doing for the last two weeks. 

However, you did not think that your kids would become friends.

“Can we have a playdate tomorrow?” Oliver asked. 

You racked your brain for a response; a way to say no without actually saying it because you really did hate disappointing him. “Oh, um, this weekend is gonna be really busy. But, maybe soon though, okay?” 

He frowned a bit but still nodded. “Okay.”

You held out your hand so that he could slip his in and then you started heading to your car.

“We have to go back to the coffee shop for a few more hours before we can go home. But, how does pizza for dinner tonight sound?” You asked as you buckled him in his car seat. The offer was an attempt to cheer him up and you hoped it worked; probably like every other six-year-old, Oliver loved pizza.

He smiled at that. “Ooh, yeah, that’s good.”  

You smiled back at him and inwardly hoped that this playdate idea would blow over over the next few days. And that the thought of you having to spend any sort of willing time with Steve Harrington would become a scary thought that only occasionally haunted your dreams, instead of it being something that actually became real.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Of course, it did not blow over. 

Excuse after excuse would fall from your lips, but Olly was determined and your words of “Today’s really busy” or “This weekend probably won’t be good” didn’t discourage him from continuing to ask. 

As the days came and went and a week passed with Olly asking the same question each day, you were so close to sucking it up and calling Steve and finally setting something up, but you were still way too fucking prideful to do so.

That didn’t stop you from thinking about doing it most days, though. But it was easier not to think about it when you were busying yourself at the coffee shop, and it was almost too easy to make yourself busy in some way there. And that was something that didn’t change on this Friday.

Oliver was sitting in his favorite booth working on homework and you were behind the counter, making a simple hot chocolate for the older woman who would come in almost every afternoon, typically around four o’clock. 

“Enjoy,” You said with a smile as you handed her the drink. 

Things in the coffee shop were calm and quiet, and you were about to go see if Oliver needed any help with the worksheets he was doing, but then your phone started vibrating in your back pocket. When you grabbed it, you saw that it was a random number calling, and maybe you should’ve thought about that fact more before answering, but you didn’t. 

“Hello?”

“Has Oliver asked to have a playdate with Madeline?” You quickly recognized Steve’s voice.

You let out a small sigh. “At least once a day since last Friday.”

“Same here with Maddie,” Steve said and then let out a sigh of his own. “We need to let this happen. I don’t think either of them are gonna let it go.” 

At first, you didn’t say anything in response to his words. You wanted to disagree with Steve, but you knew that you couldn’t because it was the truth. And then there was the fact that every time you gave some sort of fake excuse to Olly, you would feel like the worst parent ever, so maybe it would be best to just finally let this happen. “You’re right. Are you free tomorrow?”

“Yes,” He answered. “We can just do a quick thing at the park if that’s good?”

That was exactly what you were about to suggest, but you didn't tell him that. “Yeah, that’s fine. Is twelve okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Steve didn’t say anything in response to you and instead simply ended the call there. The lack of an actual goodbye almost made you want to roll your eyes in annoyance, but you didn’t because you knew that you probably would’ve done the same thing to him. 

You put your phone back in your pocket and walked over to the two-person booth Oliver was sitting at, sliding in across from him. “Hey, bud, I have really fun news. You and Maddie are finally gonna have your playdate tomorrow.”

Seeing the elated grin immediately take over his face made the fact that you’d be spending a few hours with Steve Harrington tomorrow worth it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You never thought you’d witness a moment where Steve was actually on time for something, but for once he was. When you pulled into the small parking lot of the park, you already saw him sitting on one of the wooden benches that surrounded the playground watching Maddie go down a slide.

Moments after the car was put in park, Oliver was unbuckling himself and rushing to get out so that he could head over to where Maddie was. You could only smile at his enthusiasm before telling him to slow down and be careful.

You took your time walking over to where Steve was because of how much you were dreading it, and for a moment you debated whether or not you should sit next to him or go to the bench that was empty and a few feet away. Ultimately, you decided to just sit next to him; you could be civil for a couple of hours. 

“Hi,” You said as you sat down on the wooden bench.

He looked at you just for a second before turning back to the playground. “Hey.”

“How are you?” You asked. It was always easy to go into the mundane small talk you’d have all day with customers; aside from the ones that were the regulars that you knew too well and couldn’t simply ask how they were doing without actually meaning it.

“Good,” Steve responded. “You?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You answered with a small nod. 

A silence that could only be deemed as awkward began to linger in the air because it felt as if there was absolutely nothing else to say. If he was a customer, you would’ve simply taken his order and he would have walked away by now, but obviously, this wasn’t that kind of interaction. The only sound that could be heard was the handful of other parents with their children and your own kids looking happier than ever. 

It could’ve been easy for you to make some joke to Steve about how weird this entire situation felt because of how much animosity you had toward each other and now there you two were on a sort of playdate of your own because of your kids. And then the two of you would have laughed about this current set of circumstances, and maybe that would’ve allowed things to actually start to feel somewhat okay. But, it just felt way too hard to let yourself actually be civil toward him, even though you had told yourself that you would be.

“I’m very surprised you’re actually on time for something. After all the PTA meetings, I thought you were incapable of it,” You said, still staring straight ahead as you then took a sip from the water you had in your hand. 

“And you’re late, which is not surprising,” He told you with a small scoff.

Aside from that first time you had been late for the meeting, there was one other time where you were late again and, of course, that was also the one time where Steve managed to be a little bit earlier than you. Given that he had been late countless times, you felt that it was both stupid and unwarranted for him to use the single time he saw you late against you.

“Whatever,” You said as you rolled your eyes. “Not that I even owe you an explanation for being only five minutes late today, but the coffee shop was starting to have a rush right before me and Olly were about to leave, and I didn’t want to leave my employee right then to completely fend for himself.”

“That’s interesting because every time I drive by the place, it looks the complete opposite of busy.” 

Perhaps this entire conversation immediately taking the shittiest turn was your fault because you “fired the first shot,” but his words felt equivalent to a low blow. You pretended as if you were completely unaffected by them and tried your hardest not to recognize the slight validity behind them— the coffee shop had its peak times and also its deserted moments, and maybe sometimes it did feel a bit more deserted than not, but you were surviving and right then that was all that mattered you.  

You glared harshly at him although he wasn’t even looking back at you. Muttering a “Fuck you” was right on the tip of your tongue, but you bit it back and instead got up from the bench and started moving to an empty one. Steve didn’t say anything else to you and instead seemed completely unfazed by you walking away from him. 

You watched Oliver and Maddie talking and laughing at the top of a slide that was big enough to fit both of them and they went down it together. Seeing how happy Olly was and knowing that this was the first friend he actually wanted to spend time with outside of school, made dealing with Steve’s bullshit right then completely okay with you. 

When two o’clock rolled around, you were waving Oliver over to you, much to his dismay.

“I know it’s time to go, but can we all get food together?” He asked when he walked over to you.

For once, the excuse for saying no that you were about to tell him wasn’t a made-up one. “We gotta go pick Eddie up from the airport, remember? Also, he told me that he has a bunch of cool stuff to give you from California.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Oliver said, a smile taking over his face. “I almost forgot he was coming today.” 

He went over to where Maddie was now standing with Steve and he gave her a quick hug goodbye before running back over to you.

Instead of giving any sort of verbal goodbye to Steve, you simply gave him a small wave. It was hard to wrap your head around the fact that you’d now probably have to see him more often than not. With how happy Oliver and Maddie looked playing together, you knew that today definitely wouldn’t just be a one-time thing.

Somehow with the wave Steve gave back to you, you could tell that he knew that too.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You were in no way related to Eddie Munson, but he felt more like family than your actual family. 

He was the first person you met when you moved to Hawkins three years ago. After going through a messy divorce that felt like it had actively taken at least ten years off of your life, it felt so goddamn nice to immediately make a friend in this town that was completely new to you.  

Coming from Chicago, a city that had always felt way too big for you, any small town sounded perfect in your eyes, and you were able to find a cheap-ish house in Hawkins, so it was the winner.

You met Eddie at a grocery store a week after you’d moved in. It was also your birthday, a fact that three-year-old Oliver didn’t fail to tell Eddie when you accidentally bumped into him— quite literally crashed your cart into the guy— in the bread aisle. 

“Happy birthday,” He had said to you and you gave him a small smile before proceeding to say another sorry for bumping your cart into him. He then looked at Oliver. “Are you gonna bake a birthday cake for her?” 

Oliver visibly brightened and turned to you. “Ooh, yeah, can we bake a cake?”

“Sure,” You nodded and smiled at his eagerness. 

He smiled widely and then looked back at Eddie. “Can you come over and help us make it?” 

“Oh, um…” Eddie’s eyes met yours to see what you wanted him to say. 

“You can, if you want,” You told him and you genuinely meant your words. He seemed normal, and even though this was a small town, he was the first person who had been so outwardly nice to you and Olly. 

“Okay, yeah, I’d love to help,” He said with a nod. “I’m Eddie, by the way.” 

You told him your name and then gestured to Olly. “And this is Oliver.” 

“Sorry for suggesting this idea and contributing to the sugar high that will probably be happening tonight,” Eddie told you as you moved to the next aisle where all of the baking stuff was, you were giving Oliver full reign over what cake mix you got. 

“Apology not accepted,” You responded but still smiled at him.  

Many hours later, when the cake was baked and Oliver was tucked away in bed after having two pieces of it, you pulled out a bottle of wine for you and Eddie to drink. And then because of the wine and because of the fact that birthdays always managed to bring something severely melancholic out of you, you started crying to him about your divorce that had just been finalized, the affair that your husband had with his coworker being the catalyst for said divorce, and how you felt so weirdly alone in this new town but also not at all alone because you had Oliver. 

Somehow none of that managed to scare him away— even though you would’ve been completely understanding if it had— and a friendship had been cemented ever since. 

Eight months ago, he moved to California because of a huge opportunity he got with his music; it was something he had been waiting for for so many years. You had called it a “big break,” but he thought that sounded too pretentious. 

You hadn’t really wanted him to leave, he was your best friend— your only friend in this town— but you were also so happy for him. And the distance actually managed to feel somewhat okay because you two would talk all the time and he’d visit every few months.

Oliver especially didn’t mind the distance because whenever Eddie did come back to Hawkins for a visit, it always meant that he’d get some cool new toys from him. And this time proved to be no different. 

The three of you were in the coffee shop. It was quiet right then— you didn’t think about Steve’s words from earlier— and you watched Eddie smile at Oliver as he animatedly talked about something, you assumed he was telling Eddie about Madeline.

Moments later, Eddie walked over to where you stood behind the counter, beginning the clean-up process because you were closing in about an hour. 

“It’s really nice seeing how fucking– I mean fudging,” He turned around to see if Oliver heard what he’d just said, but Olly was too busy playing with his new red toy car to hear anything. “Happy he is. All he’s been doing is rambling about his new friend.” 

“Yeah, it’s really great,” You said, smiling as you thought about how happy he had been at the park earlier. You then thought about Steve and inwardly sighed. “Well, for the most part.”

“Why? Is she a bad influence or something? I didn’t think there could be bad influences in first grade,” Eddie said and then laughed a bit. “Actually, scratch that, I was definitely a bad influence in first grade.”

An amused look crossed your face. “You talk a lot about this “bad boy persona” you used to have, but I don’t know if I really believe it because all I see is a guy that actually enjoys buying toys for a six-year-old.”

He smiled at that. “I changed. Turned over a new leaf.”

“Mhm, got it,” You responded, your voice slightly sarcastic because it was still hard to imagine Eddie as anything other than the nice guy who baked a cake with you and Oliver on your birthday. “Anyway, though, it’s not the girl that’s the problem; she’s really sweet and nice. It’s her parent that’s the worst person in the world.” 

Eddie nodded. “Okay, tell me all about this mean mom drama.”  

“It’s a dad, actually,” You said and then started explaining everything that you had never said aloud before. You told Eddie all of it— how Steve was so easily able to throw money at anything the school needed, how he was basically treated like a King among the other moms because of that, the incident that happened last year during parent-teacher conference week where everything between you two fully came to a head, and the shitty conversation you had with him at the park only hours earlier. 

“Wow, I’ve missed a lot. I can’t believe you have a nemesis, and I also can’t believe you never told me about him.”

“He’s the last thing I ever want to think about, let alone talk about. If it wasn’t for Oliver becoming friends with his daughter, you wouldn’t be hearing about him. Also, I feel like “nemesis” is a bit of an exaggeration.”

“I can call him your mortal enemy, if you want,” Eddie said with a teasing smile and you only rolled your eyes in response, refraining from flipping him off. “What’s his name? Maybe I know him. Aside from you, people rarely ever move to this town for fun, so he’s probably been here his whole life.”

You actually never thought about the potential of Eddie knowing Steve, although it was completely plausible given the reason your friend just mentioned. 

“Steve Harrington.” 

“Oh.” 

From Eddie’s reaction, the answer to your next question seemed pretty obvious but you still decided to ask it. “You know him?”

“Yeah, we were in high school at the same time.” 

“Okay, what was he like?” 

“All the typical high school stuff. He was a popular guy, played sports, was kind of a jerk but pretty much all of the girls still loved him.” 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “That sounds very accurate.” 

“By the end of it, though, he seemed like somewhat of a changed guy. Got his heart broken by the nice girl, and then became friends with actual good people,” Eddie told you, and that was the one part of his description of the Steve that he had known that managed to actually surprise you. “I didn’t know he had a kid now.”

“Yup, and he’s also changed back into the jerk that you originally knew him as in high school,” You said. “And the most fuc— fudged up part of it all is that we should be friends. Which probably makes me sound crazy because of everything I just said, but it’s true. Me and him are basically in the same boat— the only single parents in the grade, we both have time-consuming jobs, and now even our kids are friends with each other. It would just make sense if we were actually friends too.”

“I mean, you still could be, right?”

You immediately shook your head. “Wrong. There’s no way that could ever happen.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The rest of September and most of October flew by with what felt like an abrupt kind of quickness. 

Absolutely nothing changed between you and Steve, even with Eddie’s idea that maybe it could. The only time the two of you talked to each other was if it involved your kids and if you were setting up the day and time for another park playdate, which quickly managed to become a weekly thing because of how adamant Oliver and Madeline were— just like you assumed they’d be. 

It may have seemed a little weird, these brief conversations you’d have with one another that were nothing more and nothing less than transactional, but it worked perfectly for you two. 

“This weekend is gonna be pretty busy for me, so is tomorrow after school good?” You asked Steve. A PTA meeting had just ended and you and him were lingering by the same exit that the kids would come out of when school was over. 

You were pretty close to not showing up to this Thursday night meeting, but you knew that you had to because it was about the Winter Carnival happening in December. It was a huge event that would be an “all hands on deck” kind of situation, which was why they talked about it so far in advance and why attendance at any meeting discussing it was pretty much mandatory.  

Steve shook his head at your question. “I have this big work thing tomorrow, so I have to pick up Maddie and then drop her off at the babysitter before rushing back to the city.”

You nodded understandingly at his words. A part of you knew that you should have left it at that, because you tried to set something up and that should’ve been more than enough of an effort, but instead, you found yourself saying, “I can pick her up and take the two of them to the park tomorrow if you want.”

Steve was quiet and your words simply lingered in the open air. You almost regretted making the suggestion because you felt as if he was somehow going to find a way to be a dick about it, but then he looked at you curiously, and another look that you couldn’t decipher crossed his face too as he said, “You sure?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah, it’s really no problem.” And it honestly wasn’t a problem in the slightest; Madeline was the sweetest girl ever. She reminded you nothing of Steve, so you assumed that she got her personality from her mom; you still had no idea what that entire situation entailed. “What time will you be done with work?”

“Hopefully around five or six,” He answered. There was still that look on his face, which you still couldn’t tell what it said, but you really wanted to know.  

“Okay, after the park, I can take them back to my house and you can pick Maddie up from there when you’re done with work,” You said, only a little surprised at how easily this idea came together. “Olly’s been wanting to show her his new fish, anyway.”

“Yeah, I think she’s mentioned his fish to me probably a thousand times. It’s blue and purple, right?”

“Yeah, it’s a betta fish; Barnaby.”

“Barnaby?”

You shrugged. “I have no idea how Olly came up with that name, but I will admit that it does sound more like the name of an old sailor lost at sea rather than a fish. But, in some weird way, both of those things are actually kind of related.” 

Steve laughed at that and somehow it didn’t sound the least bit mocking or condescending, it was more amused. Hearing that sound coming from him shocked you as much as it, surprisingly, made you inwardly smile. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The amount of dark clouds in the sky didn’t necessarily faze you until a raindrop hit your cheek as you sat on a park bench watching Oliver and Madeline on the playground. It was a light drizzle that transformed into something heavier in a matter of minutes and you realized that you probably should’ve been more mindful of what the weather was going to be today. 

Neither of the kids really minded the rain putting an end to their time at the park though, because Oliver was happy to go home so that Maddie could finally see the fish.

They bounded up the stairs to Olly’s room the second you unlocked the front door, and you headed to the kitchen, sending a simple text to Steve in the process. 

You: Had to leave the park because of the rain. We’re at my place now

At first, the lack of a response from him didn’t surprise you because it was only around four-thirty and he was probably busy. He was also Steve Harrington and he rarely ever responded to you in a timely manner. 

You heard the sound of footsteps racing down the stairs and you looked up from your phone, after checking it for probably the hundredth time in the past hour, to see Olly and Maddie coming into the kitchen.

“Can you convince my dad to get me a fish?” Maddie asked as she and Olly joined you at the small dining table. 

You smiled and nodded at her. “I can try.” 

“Thanks,” She said, smiling back at you. “The only time I get to see any pets is at my Aunt Robin’s house. She has a golden retriever.” 

“Oh, that’s really cool. What’s its name?”

“Willow. She’s a girl.” 

Oliver looked at you. “Can we get a dog next?” 

“Let’s just worry about Barnaby for now,” You told Olly, giving him a small smile. You could only imagine how much more hectic your life would become if you two got a dog anytime soon. “I was thinking about doing dino nuggets and french fries for you guys for dinner. How does that sound?”

They both perked up at that and nodded and you got up to turn on the oven, purposefully leaving your phone on the table because you wanted a break from impulsively checking it every few minutes. It slightly annoyed you that you heard nothing from Steve yet, and it annoyed you even more that the lack of a response felt personal. You wondered if he actually hadn’t seen your message yet, or if he was simply being an asshole and not responding with a simple “Okay” or even a thumbs up to it on purpose. 

It wasn’t until the time was a little after six, and you still hadn’t heard anything from Steve, that your initial annoyance toward him not responding to you and not giving you any sort of updates on what was happening with him over the past few hours, morphed into something that resembled worry. 

You walked out of the living room and into the kitchen and pulled your phone out of your back pocket so that you could call him. Your gaze moved toward the window as you pressed your phone to your ear; the weather outside still looked pretty shitty. The call went straight to voicemail and you sighed as you waited for the beep. 

“Hey, um, it’s me. That’s probably very obvious. Um, anyway, you said you’d be done with work around five or six, but I haven’t heard anything from you in the last couple of hours… I hope everything’s fine. Um, any sort of update would be really nice. Call, or at least text me, whenever you get this. Okay… Bye.”

You hung up and slipped your phone back in your pocket.

It was an obvious fact that you didn’t like Steve Harrington, but that didn’t mean you wanted anything bad to happen to him. 

The only thing that managed to not make you feel completely worried was that Maddie seemed okay and not worried at all. Instead, she and Olly were in the living room playing in the fort you made for them out of couch cushions and throw blankets.

You went back into the living room and sat down on the small loveseat that was the only piece of furniture that still had its cushion left. 

“You guys okay in there?” 

“Yup!”

“Yes!”  

Hearing their chorus of happy “yeses” made you inwardly sigh in relief and lean back into the chair, letting your eyes shut just for a second and muttering to yourself that everything was and would be fine. 

Your phone was still glued to your hand as you grabbed the remote with your other and turned on a random Disney movie for the kids to listen to as background noise and for you to take your mind off of Steve, even though all you were waiting and hoping for was for your phone to vibrate in your hand with a call or text from him. 

You didn’t realize that you’d fallen asleep in the chair until you were startled awake by the sound of the doorbell ringing. The abruptness of it actually managed to scare you, so much so that you could immediately feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears when you opened your eyes. 

The second Lilo & Stitch movie was now playing on the TV and through your half-awake haze, you found the remote to pause it. You then peeked inside the fort and saw that Olly and Maddie were asleep. 

As you rubbed the slight tiredness out of your eyes and got up from the couch, you checked your phone and saw that the time was 8:11pm. The doorbell rang again as you unlocked the door and the first thing that you noticed when you opened it was that it was no longer raining, you were unsure when it had finally stopped. 

“Hi.”

Seeing Steve standing in front of you managed to immediately wash away the worry you had been feeling for the last couple of hours. And it was quickly and completely replaced with the annoyance you’d initially felt. “What the hell happened?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Hearing a genuine apology come from Steve Harrington’s mouth actually managed to baffle you. “My meeting at work ran over, and there was no way to get out of it, not even for a second. And then there was a ton of traffic because of the rain, so a drive that typically only takes thirty minutes took longer than an hour. Also, I have the worst and probably oldest phone in the world because it never holds a charge anymore, and it was plugged in during the entire drive but didn’t turn on at all. So, I’m really sorry that I haven’t been able to call or text or anything. These past few hours have been hell.” He let out a sigh and then looked at you, concerned. “How’s Maddie? Is she okay?”

There were a lot of words that had been thrown at you during Steve’s ramble, but hearing his full explanation and how apologetic he was made your annoyance with him dissipate into nothing just like your worry did. Instead, you felt a little bad for him because of all the shit he had to endure in the past few hours. You pushed the door open further to fully let him in. 

“She’s good. She’s okay. She and Olly are sleeping in the living room. I made them a little fort,” You told him as he walked in and you pointed to where the kids were in the living room, and he nodded when he saw the construction of couch cushions and blankets. 

You looked at Steve and hesitated for a moment. You knew that this was where the goodbyes for the night should’ve started, but it didn’t feel right to have him leave just yet; he still seemed sort of frazzled and stressed about everything that happened. You started heading toward the kitchen and he followed you. “Do you maybe, uh, want something to drink?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Okay, I have water and juice boxes,” You told him and turned around to meet his eyes, he was leaning against the small island. “It’s moments like these where it sucks being the “good influence/leading by example” parent because I can’t offer you something fun, like a soda.”

Steve laughed a bit; it still felt so foreign hearing that sound from him. “A juice box is fine. That’s probably all that lives at my house too.”

You grabbed one from the fridge and then closed it. “I hope you like apple.”

“My favorite, actually,” He said as you handed the drink to him, and you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but you didn’t have enough time to really ponder that before he completely changed the subject. “How was Maddie when you picked her up? When I told her about it this morning, she seemed excited about it and about hanging out with Oliver after school too, but was she really okay?” 

You nodded at his question. “She was great. They both had fun at the park and didn’t even mind the rain because they really wanted to come here and see the fish.”

He smiled and you could see the immediate relief wash over his face. “Okay.”

“She also wants me to try and convince you to get her a fish.”

“Of course she does,” He said before taking a sip from the juice box. You had to admit, it was a little funny seeing a man wearing professional clothes, that were probably so expensive, drinking from a tiny juice box meant for little kids. 

“I’m honestly kinda surprised that you pick her up every day,” You told him as you turned and went back into the fridge to pull out a water for yourself. “Given your job, I thought you’d just have a babysitter or someone pick her up most of the time. I had no idea it was half an hour away.”

“I didn’t used to do it… Her, um, her mom would,” He said and you could tell by the way he said those words that whatever happened involving Maddie’s mom was a touchy subject. It sounded similar to how you’d usually sound whenever you talked about Oliver’s dad— a little sad and a lot like you’d rather talk about anything else. 

Your mind started desperately trying to think of a way to change the subject; it was what you would’ve wanted him to do for you if the tables were turned. But, before you could say the first thing that came to mind, which was, “So, I wonder if it’s gonna rain tomorrow too,” Steve started talking again. 

“It had become a routine because of how hectic my job is. She’d always drop Maddie off and pick her up. But, she, uh… She left last year, so that changed everything,” He told you. You closed the fridge and turned around to face him; you forgot to grab your water but that was the last thing on your mind right then.

This conversation suddenly felt like completely uncharted territory between you and Steve because you two did not talk about touchy subjects— you and him barely talked about anything at all. But, for some odd reason, you didn’t necessarily mind the serious turn to the conversation because maybe it was a shit ton of honesty that was needed for you two to actually, finally, not dislike each other.

Steve ran a hand through his hair and pulled his eyes away from yours. He instead fixed his attention on his juice box in hand. “It happened around this time in October. She dropped Maddie off at school, but didn’t pick her up.” 

Hearing him say that surprised you as much as it confused you because you had absolutely no idea that happened last year. But with how busy you’d been then, and since you weren’t friends with any of the “gossipy” moms that somehow always knew everything, it did make a little sense why you knew nothing. 

“Maddie was waiting in the office for about two hours after school was over before I could get there because I was in a meeting and didn’t see the calls coming from the school. She didn’t really know what was happening, but she was still so sad and I think that somehow a small part of her did know.” He shook his head and sighed, a look that could only be deemed as melancholic crossed his face. “I never want her to feel abandoned like that again, so I always make sure to drop her off and pick her up now.”

As he said his last words, something managed to shift inside of you in a matter of a split second. Suddenly, his name was no longer “the worst person in the world” in your mind. 

In all of your months of having this “nemesis relationship” — as Eddie would call it— with Steve Harrington, you never thought that your opinion of him would ever be able to change. However, in this moment of you two standing across from each other at your small kitchen island as Steve held a freaking juice box in his hand, it finally did. He was a good person, a really fucking good person.

You were able to see it so goddamn easily then— the exact ways that he and Maddie were just alike. She got her personality from him, you were now quite literally certain of it. And you immediately felt bad for ever thinking differently.

“I’m sorry about what I said last year during conference week,” You told him, suddenly ready to give him your own burst of honesty. “I was pissed that you spilled my coffee all over me, and I was even more pissed because it was you, and you annoyed me so much. Because even though we’re kind of in the same boat with the amount of “active” things we do for the school, all of the moms love you so much and I swear they hate me, and it’s just so annoying.” You let out a small sigh and then met his gaze before saying the words that you didn’t think you’d ever say to him. “Anyway, you’re a really good dad, and I’m so sorry for telling you differently.”

“I’m sorry for what I said that day too. You’re a really great mom,” He said, giving you a small smile, and it slightly shocked you how much hearing that meant to you. Aside from Eddie, you couldn’t remember the last time someone said that to you. “And I don't think the moms at school actually like me. I think they just pity me because of everything that happened, and how they basically saw it all blow up in real time. Since pre-school, Maddie’s mom was dropping her off and picking her up, and suddenly one day she was completely gone. I swear the number of times I got phone calls that were a bunch of them saying, “We’re here for you,” but they really just wanted to get the full story about what happened, was insane during those first few months.”

“Jesus, small town moms are the worst,” You said as you shook your head. “Or, at least, ours are.”

You looked away from Steve and turned around, finally going back to the fridge to grab a water. “Oliver’s dad was kind of the same way. He left too. Or maybe it’s actually not the same because I made him leave— he was having an affair with his coworker. But, he also wanted to leave and be with her, so maybe it actually is a little similar. Sorry, now I’m just rambling about that asshole,” You said and rolled your eyes at yourself. You weren’t sure why you even decided to circle the conversation back to your exes.  

“Do you and Oliver ever see him anymore?” Steve asked, and when you closed the fridge and turned back to face him, you shook your head at his question.

“Not since we moved here. He does the bare minimum and sends Olly checks for his birthday and Christmas. Which I think is dumb because no kid wants a check as a present; even I would rather get an actual gift than a stupid check,” You told Steve as you opened up your water. “Does Maddie ever see her mom, or does she ever come around sometimes?”

With the way she left, you were almost certain that the answer was no, but you were still curious.

“No, she hasn’t, and I don’t think she would ever want to,” Steve answered and you gave him a small nod of understanding before he continued. “I remember about a week after everything happened, and after avoiding my many calls and texts, she finally called me. She was really apologetic about the way she decided to leave, but she said that she just couldn’t do it anymore because none of this life that we had here was making her happy, and she didn’t want me to try and convince her to stay. When she said that, it made me realize that the smallest part of me knew that this would eventually happen. Maddie was completely unexpected and our relationship had already gotten pretty bad before we found out, so neither of us was remotely ready to be parents, but we still decided to do it and try to make it all work. Right when I saw Maddie for the first time I knew that she was the best thing that ever happened to me and I couldn’t imagine my life without her, and that never changed. But, it wasn’t the same way for her mom, and sometimes it seemed like she felt the complete opposite way. So, in a way, I can understand why she knew she had to leave. I hate the way that she did it, but ultimately I understand that this wasn’t the life she wanted, and she’d never want it.” A sad smile took over his face.

“We don’t have to keep talking about this if you don’t want to,” You told him, suddenly feeling bad that you had been the one to bring the conversation back to this in the first place. “We can change the subject to anything else. Maybe the weather? I wonder if it’s gonna rain again tomorrow…” 

“No, it’s okay,” Steve said. “I really never thought I’d say this because we’ve never had a real conversation before, but I think I actually like talking to you.” He shook his head at his words. “I’m sorry, that probably sounds fucked up.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I feel the same exact way. Ten minutes ago I couldn’t really stand the thought of having any sort of conversation with you, and now I feel like an idiot for hating you all this time. So, this is insanely fast progress,” You said and then immediately thought of something. “Wow, I really wish I had some alcohol for us to drink right now because us actually not despising each other anymore is a milestone that truly should be toasted to.”

Steve laughed a bit; it was nice hearing that sound after all the sad stuff that had just been shared by both of you. He raised his juice box toward you a bit. “This will have to do, I guess.”

You raised your water and “clinked” it with the juice box. “Cheers to… whatever we are now.”

It didn’t feel entirely like a friendship, but it, at least, felt like you two could actually be nice to one another and not feel pained to do so. 

“Cheers to that,” Steve said with a quick nod and then finished off the rest of what was left in his small juice box. “I should grab Maddie and head home. She has dance class at eight in the morning. She hates it for the most part, but she has a recital next week and I told her that she should push through until that and then we can quit. A part of me is kind of glad that she hates it, though, because classes are insanely expensive.”

“Olly’s starting soccer at the end of the month,” You told him. “It’s for boys and girls. You should see if Maddie wants to do that.”

“If Oliver’s doing it, she’ll probably say yes.”

You nodded at that and how true it was on both sides. “I’ll text you the information.”

“Thanks,” He said and smiled.

You followed him as he walked into the living room to get Maddie. She was still fast asleep as her arms circled around his neck when he picked her up. You grabbed her bookbag that she and Oliver left by the front door and helped Steve hook one of his arms in it.

Somehow something was silently exchanged in that last look shared between you and him before you said your final goodbyes for the night, and you softly shut and locked your door behind him. It was a look that expressed that you both were glad about what happened in the past twenty minutes— the honesty-filled conversation that led to you two finally understanding one another and realizing how you were actually more alike than either of you had ever thought. 

It was a realization that was simultaneously surprising and refreshing. 

“Goodnight,” You said, giving him a small smile and he smiled back at you. 

“Goodnight.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

PART TWO

[koipaper]

YANDERE ABBIE CONCEPT

Pairings: Yandere! Abbie x Beloved (Yours/Your/Yourself)

Fandom: Fundamental Paper Education

Trigger warnings: Yandere behavior, Paranoia, Overthinking, Obsessive behavior, Worshipping, an OOC headcanon near the end, Manipulation, Guilt tripping, Probably OOC in general hhghd.

A/N: Despite being alive for only a few seconds, Abbie has become one of my favorite characters from Fundamental Paper Education.

‣ Stated in the introduction, Abbie is shown to be timid and the least intelligent in the class, as well as easily frightened in the animation as well. Him being a yandere is rather tame then most others.

‣ You're a student that had enrolled not long before Claire shows up, you never really noticed Abbie until you were paired with him for a partner project. Abbie was stressed and paranoid, what if he annoyed you with always asking for help? What if you just let him fail his part and he dies just like the other students here?? Oh gosh, he was terrified.

‣ The project was a take at home project, so you both agreed to exchange numbers and meet up at your house to get it done in time. Abbie arrived not a minute late, hands shaking like a leaf from his overthinking on the way there. You both greeted each other and sat down on the pillows you set up above the carpet so you both don't get sore. Abble couldn't stop worrying though. Almost everyone who has tried to help him has given up and left, what if your no different? However, to his surprise, you were very patient with him and even offered to work on the things he didn't understand.

‣ The rest of the night was fun, you both got to know each other a bit and you managed to finish the project within two hours. Abbie had told you that he wasn't smartest in the class, how usually his friend Engal would attempt to aid him but would fail because he was just too dumb to understand. So, you decided to help Abbie pass all of his assignments by doing it for him to save him from trouble. You already had his number, so you could just send him the answers before anything major like a test so he could write it down and pass. ‣ He agreed, and from then on, you both became best buddies! If only you knew that your little act of kindness caused an obsession to brew from the young man... ‣ How I write Abbie, his yandere traits would be Obsessive, Pathetic, Worshipping, Harmless, Dependent, Anxious, Clingy, and Tame. ‣ He sees you as a angel that was sent by heaven to aid him during his time at this wretched school, there was no denying it. He often praises you for how smart you are, as well as how kind and patient you are with him. He wants it all to himself... No one but him should be gazed apon with those loving eyes but him. You don't want him to feel like your abandoning him do you? ‣ Seen in official art, he was holding what seemed to be a love letter while Lana was pulling on his cheek teasingly. So maybe he writes love letters that he might one day send to his beloved to confess. These letters are his way to vent his feelings about you, since he gets too anxious to ever give them to you. ‣ SPEAKING OF ANXIOUS, I feel like Abbie would be in a constant state of paranoia that eventually you'll get fed up of helping him with his work. He'll die without your help! You don't want him falling to the hands of Miss Circle, do you?! Don't leave him, please! ‣ Abbie is quite obsessive when it comes to his crush on his beloved, he fantasizes about you, being in your arms, being able to kiss you, calling you his, he cannot wait! However, this is why he writes in a diary to prevent him from confessing too early. He'd die if you found out about his crush on you. ‣ Lana is no help either. If anything she more or so encourages Abbies crush on you (of course, she hasn't seen what lies beneath his lovey-dovey rambles about you, so she assumes that her best friend is just experiencing a normal crush.) If you ever come to her about Abbies strange behavior, She would shrug it off, saying that maybe he's just trying to show how appreciative he is that you stuck around. ‣ A bit OOC here (or just a personal headcanon of mine), Abbie's rather touchstarved, so affection by you feels like a high to him. Just a simple hug? He melts into your embrace. A small peck on the cheek? He's turning into putty as we speak. Holding his hand in the halls so you can get through a tough crowd? His face is flushing at the feeling. Even if the gesture is small, it fuels his obsession like wood to a fire place. He takes whatever he can get although, so there's that... ‣ Although, secrets can't stay secrets forever. You were invited to Abbies house to do another project just like when you first met. And you got curious and began snooping around his room when he went to get a drink for the both of you. Inside a drawer, you find a book labeled "DIARY: PLEASE KEEP OUT". You thought that maybe a itty bitty peak wouldn't hurt anybody, so you decided to read. ‣ Inside the first few pages were filled with words beyond words about you, mostly his thoughts about you. It was cute at first... until it started getting creepy.. The pages would be just word after word about how much he fantasized about you, how he felt every time he felt you were getting tired of him, and how he couldn't live long without you in his life before Miss Circle or any other of the teachers would kill him. He needed you, he wanted you, he would do anything just for you to be his. ‣ Before you could even react, a hand slammed the book shut causing you to yelp in surprise. Abbie stood before you, water in one hand and the diary in the other. His face was hard to read.

‣ His eyes were shaped like pinpricks, and tears were formed in his eyes, on the brink of spilling if you even dared to run. (His face is a ref to this.)

‣ "You didn't... You didn't see much, did you..?" He asked, his voice cracking and ready to break. Surly you didn't see much right?

‣ He hopes you didn't.

‣ He prays you didn't

‣ After all, he doesn't want to lose the only one who was patient enough to stick by him and his lack of intelligence. He NEEDS you to stay.

‣ He'll die without you, remember?

[lyssasdrafts]

★ 𓈒 ݁ STAR—CROSSED (rhysand x reader) ⊹

prologue: (written) ✧

𓈒 ݁ ✫ masterlist next

prythian university had always been your dream.

it was a top school, boasting the most famous alumni and their academic achievements. you knew since you were young that this was where you wanted to end up and had worked your whole life for it. even if being accepted was more than enough, you knew it couldn’t end there. you spent your time dedicating everything to the school so you could still claim being valedictorian at your university graduation too.

while it was stressful, prythian was definitely worth it. you loved the campus life, being able to admire all the historic buildings and how big their library was everyday. even your professors, who were rumored to be some of the harshest, were friendly towards you. a part of you wanted to stay in this part of the city forever, it almost seemed better than your life at home.

what you hadn’t expected from going to prythian were the three famous names on campus. they were your most infuriating classmates, blocking your way everyday from the crowds gathering around them and giving you a headache all the whispers about them in class.

azriel was the only one you could tolerate. he kept his head down and sat at the back of the class, and was always quiet and respectful. that’s what you appreciated about him. the only thing that turned you away from him was that one time you were ever late to class and the look he’d given you as you walked in.

he was cold, you thought. you could feel his glare on you whenever you were nearby. he refused to talk to anyone, even turning his head at others who were just asking if the seat next to him was available. sometimes you wondered how someone so reserved could get along with cassian and rhysand.

at least he wasn’t a menace; that was cassian’s job. you probably found him the most annoying out of the three. he was always the one asking the most impractical questions in class, clearly just to get a reaction out of everyone and to annoy the professor. you recoiled everytime he gave that big grin afterwards, thinking he’d done something.

you hated how loud and immature him and his jokes were. you never understood what the appeal of him as a jock was. high-fiving every other person in the halls and causing a group to form around him.

while cassian got on your nerves the most, rhysand was your least favorite. he was the combination of azriel’s coldness and cassian’s boldness. he had always pissed you off ever since he flaunted the fact he got a higher mark on a first year exam. would someone like him even realize how hard you’d worked?

it never failed to confuse you how someone like rhysand, who partied every weekend with his friends and caused a pandemonium everywhere he went, could be compared to you. you, who had stayed up every night in your dorm room alone studying. and he was your competition?

it never made sense to you. you never understood why people were so drawn to them, why they were considered the best of prythian university, and what was so enticing about them when all they’ve done is act like fools to you. even seeing how your professor would smile at them as the boys walked out of class enduringly, despite the boys giving them a headache for the day. you tried to ignore whenever your classmates and even friends asked about them, how much it annoyed you that they were praised for nothing.

perhaps you could understand why some would find them attractive. it’s hard not to have your eyes on them — the way their tall figures walked down the hallway. you ignored the way your eyes lingered at rhysand sometimes, how sometimes you avoided him because you couldn’t hold his gaze and not purely because you hated him.

but as of now, as far as you knew, you wanted nothing to do with prythian’s golden trio and made it your goal to absolutely become better than rhysand.

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

candlelight 🕯️

hii it’s me again! congratulations on 1k!! i’ve thinking about this recently (a lot) because im seriously in my miguel ohara kick🥰

but can you do shy & nerdy reader with popular miguel who are dating?? he adores making her flustered and how shy she is.

he makes her ask for his help because he knows how badly she needs him? because she’s just so stressed out about school and stuff? as always if you’re not comfortable writing totally ignore this! this is my first time requesting smut so i don’t know if it’s silly or not! but if you write it i know you’ll do good by it bc ur such an amazing writer😌

-🎀

hiiii, thank you so much!! and thank you for requesting! ahhh, i'm so thrilled you asked for miguel; i was dying to write him and probably will more, especially if people want; i hope you like it! i hope i got enough of the request in here

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader word count: 2.2k notes: modern au, established relationship, fluff, smut (i'm going to keep with marking where it gets smutty, though, bc it's like a full fluff fic before any smut, for those who only want the fluff; MDNI!) part of my 1k celebration!

for anyone who doesn’t speak spanish, i don't want translations to be annoying in the middle or for you to have to scroll to the end, so thought putting them here was best: mi amor / amor mío: my love / literally something like love of mine but works more like emphasis cariño: term of endearment kind of like dear, literally affection mami: another term of endearment, more often cheeky or sexier descansa: rest dime: tell me que maravilla: a joke from the movie, literally what a marvel / wonder, kind of like how wonderful or even just amazing hope i didn't miss any others

The phone buzzing beside you startles you almost completely out of your chair. Coffee makes you jumpy. An entire pot in one night makes you… suspect what you’d be like on cocaine. You’d thought you’d put it on silent. No phone till at least one paper is done, you’d told yourself. Finals had you reeling, and you were desperate to make some progress. When you grab your phone, you see a text from Miguel:

You take your headphones off, and sure enough, a moment later hear a knock at the door. You open it to a Miguel in loose sweatpants and hoodie, dark hair messy, gym bag slung over one shoulder. Even these clothes could do nothing to hide the impressive broadness of his shoulders. 

“Hey, baby,” he says through a bright smile. He kisses your cheek and steps into the apartment. “I know you were trying to focus, but I was getting worried.” “Sorry, I had my headphones on; the neighbors were being too loud again, and I really needed to focus.” “No, not the waiting at your door, mi amor. I’m talking about all of… this,” he gestures wildly around the apartment then his gaze lands on you. “Those dishes were there when I was here days ago, and even though I’m pretty sure adding anything to that tower would topple it, you haven’t. When’s the last time you ate?” “I ha—“ you begin to retort, but he cuts you off. “And I mean real food.” You start again but just give up and shrug. “And you.” He steps close to you and frames your face with his hands. You lean into his touch as he caresses your face. “Baby, you know I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, right?” You blush and look down immediately. 

It used to be worse, before you got together. When you were confused about his even noticing you, and instead he’d flirted with you. Even now that he was your boyfriend, it took very little from him to fluster you.

He can’t help but chuckle at your reaction. He always does.

“Don’t you? My gorgeous,” he kisses one warm cheek, “gorgeous,” he kisses the other, “girl,” he gives your nose a concluding peck. 

You nod shyly. “C’mon, cariño. Tell me,” he encourages, his tone still teasing but ever adoring. “I want to hear it." “I know you think I’m pretty,” you whisper. “Pretty? No, amor mío, I think flowers and bright colors are pretty; the ocean or a view of the mountains, too. But you, you are beauty personified.” “Miguel, stop,” you whisper through the smile you can’t help, hiding your face in his chest. He laughs lightly. His hand comes to your hair and scratches lovingly.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew that.” He gives your forehead a kiss. “Before I told you you look terrible, baby.” He starts laughing loudly and holds you closer into his hug when you smack his chest and try to pull away. 

“That’s so mean!” gets muffled into his sweatshirt. “It’s not mean; it’s true. You’re still beautiful, but you need a break.” “I can’t, Miguel. I’m drowning in work still, and you know being sick last week really got me behind, and it feels like no matter how long I sit there, I’m no closer to finishing anything, and you’re right my apartment is falling apart, but every time I do something else I feel guilty for stalling on work, and, and —“

Before you can find another overwhelming thing to list, Miguel is hushing you and stroking your back in his warm embrace.

“Breathe, baby, breathe.” He sways you lightly then pulls back a bit to look into your eyes. His hands are caressing your face again, and his fingers brush lightly under your eyes, where you know there are dark circles, as he whispers, “You haven’t slept.” He sounds sad rather than accusatory. 

“Okay,” he starts softly. “Look, I know how much you have on your plate, and I’m not telling you you’re wrong to be stressed. I get it. But you can’t get it done like this, running on fumes and caffeine. How about this? I’m going to help you relax tonight, you’re going to forget about everything you have to do, you’re going to sleep well, and then tomorrow morning you’ll get back to it all.” “I’m fine, really. You don’t need to worry about me. And I’ll rest after finals.” Just then a car horn blares near your window, making you jump cartoonishly. “Yeah, you seem totally fine,” Miguel deadpans teasingly. “There’s nothing wrong with taking some time, Y/N… And accepting a little a help, okay?”

You nod lightly. “Great,” he gives you a quick peck and moves toward your kitchen, hunting around your barren fridge and cabinets. “Here’s the game plan then. You are going to put on your favorite playlist then go take a warm shower for as long as you like. Your kitchen is as empty as your stomach, so I am going to run down the street to pick up some empanadas then I’ll work on cleaning up this war zone a little bit when I get back.”

“You don’t have to clean.” “Stop fighting me,” he tsks. “Besides you know I don’t mind cleaning. I’m glad I’m not hearing complaints about the food at least,” he laughs. “I love empanadas,” you whisper defeatedly. He cackles. “Who doesn’t?” He kisses you as he moves past you toward the door. “Be back soon. No working! I expect you in the shower when I get back.” You quirk an eyebrow teasingly at him. You were still too shy to say anything teasing, but he’d been working you out of your shell during your time together. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t really like that aspect of being with Miguel. 

His eyebrows mimic yours, and he chuckles lowly. “Don’t give me that look, mami, or you’re not getting me out the door, and you’ll miss out on the empanadas.”

You pull the neck of your shirt up to cover your face, making him laugh. You hear him bound back over to you from the door. He pulls your shirt back down, gives you a short but intense kiss, then heads out. 

Miguel is back before you know it. You are in fact in the shower when you hear him return. You’re already rinsing, but you linger a little longer, enjoying the feeling of the warm water easing the stresses off your tense body. 

When you leave your room to join him again, you’re immediately hit with the delicious smell of food. You see it resting on the counter and find Miguel washing your dishes. 

You come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his firm torso, resting your head on his back. “Hola, cariño,” he coos. “I’m almost done.” You nod into him, humming.

When he finishes up, he turns in your arms, bringing his own large ones around you. He leans down and kisses you softly. “Hungry?” 

You nod enthusiastically, and he chuckles. 

You opt to eat on the sofa, getting comfy. Miguel does most of the talking. Between how tired and how hungry you are, you don’t have the energy or available mouth to talk much. He doesn’t seem to mind, happy to regale you with his silly stories.

When you finish, Miguel cleans up, holding you down and giving you a faux menacing look when you try to get up to help. 

When he comes back, he settles much closer to you than he had been before. You relish his warmth, physical and emotional, and lean into him. 

“Turn around,” he whispers.

“Hm?” “Like this.” He adjusts your body so you’re facing away from him and starts massaging your shoulders. You hadn’t realized just how tense you were until the amazing feeling of its being relieved somewhat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NSFW beyond this point ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Miguel,” you exhale approvingly, earning a chuckle.

“I like it when you say my name like that.” He leans in and whispers into your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck deliciously, “Reminds me of other times you end up whining my name.”

It’s shocking how quickly he works you up. You turn to look at him, and when you do, his expression shifts from teasing to intrigued.

“Oh?” he asks. He smirks. “I know that look.” He leans in and kisses your neck sloppily, and you whimper. You’re embarrassed at the sound, but he seems to like it. You feel him smile against the skin under your jaw. “I’m more than happy to give you what you want, but I need to know what that is to give it to you.” His voice is much lower but just as mischievous.

“Miguel,” you complain. “Dime, mi amor.” 

“I —“ Any other words get caught in your throat. Your throat he’s busy sucking on.

“Please, baby. C’mon, I know you can. Tell me what you want.” He runs his teeth along your neck like he knows you like. You often joke he feels like he has fangs when he does. “I want you,” you tell him. 

“Yeah?” “Mhm…”

“I’m yours, mami. How do you want me?”

“I want you to make me feel good.” “Oh, I’ll make you feel good. I’ll make you feel so, so good.” He punctuates his words with kisses, working his way up your neck, your jaw, your mouth. “Tell me how,” he whispers, and you feel his lips grazing yours with each word.

You want to relax, and you know exactly what relaxes you the most. “I want you to eat me out.”

His eyebrows jump in surprise. Such directness was unlike you. Your exhaustion was probably weakening your filter, and the way he was already making you feel certainly wasn’t helping it. You almost get shy about it, but when you see just how dark his eyes have gotten, see his Adam’s apple bob and his bottom lip come between his teeth, you keep yourself from shrinking away. He nods slowly, staring deeply into your eyes, then kisses you hard. “Get naked,” he says gruffly. 

Already starting to do as he says, you weakly whisper, “You too?” He chuckles lightly but obliges quickly. 

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing him like this. He’s so beautiful. His broad chest and toned abs; his caramel skin and dark hair.

You look back at his face and find he’s noticed you staring at his body. He’s so confident, you think he’s going to tease you about it. Instead, with an adoring smile, he tells you, “That’s how I feel when I see you, too.” You lean up and kiss him, pouring all the emotions you can’t articulate in words into it. 

Without disconnecting your lips, his body guides yours back down until you’re completely prone. He keeps kissing you until you’re breathless, lovingly attends to your neck and down your chest. He lingers there, his tongue making you arch your back, pushing your body up into the sensations he’s delivering. He sucks harder at your visceral reaction then hotly finishes his path down, his face now aligned between your thighs.

He looks at you intently and whispers, “Que maravilla.”

He looks up at you, eyes black storms you lose yourself in as his mouth connects with your body. 

From your delightful vantage point, you watch his muscular shoulders contort as he moves to pleasure you. He looks like he’s thoroughly enjoying it, and seeing him so into it gives you confidence. You start subtly moving your hips in rhythm with his motions. His hands tighten where they hold your thighs, and, mortified, you interpret this as his telling you to stay still, so you do. 

Then Miguel shakes his head hard — the vibrations of which shoot shocking pleasure into you — and he pants, “Keep doing that. Show me how you want it.” His strong grip pushes and pulls you in a movement close to what you were just doing. You take over and move faster. He’s nodding now, and the shake of it has your thighs shaking on either side of his head. 

You’re making loud whimpering sounds when you yell, “Mi — ahh — Migueeell.” He doubles his efforts, picking up his pace and pressing hard against you. You come on his face, and he looks feral as he eats you through it. When you’re done, he licks up your entire slit before shuffling his body back over yours. You’re chest to chest, and his hand comes up to stroke your head. “Good?” 

Your cheeks warm, and you nod shyly. He giggles and gives you a peck. “You’re adorable, mi amor.”

Your legs feel delightfully like jelly as you move them, wrapping them around his waist. He hums approvingly and gives one thigh a tight squeeze, pulling it impossibly closer to his body. He begins stroking it as he kisses you lazily. Your hands entwine in his thick hair, stroke his strong back, hold him close.

When he shifts his weight slightly on top of you, you notice his hardness against your body.

“You want me to…” you whisper, thrusting your hips up into his in place of words.

“Uh-uh, maybe in a little bit, baby, but for right now, I just want you to relax.” 

He continues kisses you languidly, enveloping you in his body heat, and as you close your eyes and melt into the sensations, you’re sure you’re going to have no trouble sleeping soundly tonight. 

[clownery-and-fuckery]

As promised, my commentary on Hunter.... to the people that like him, im sorry.

Spoiler warnings and the like, this is pretty negative aside from like maybe three sentences?? Feel free to leave you're own opinions on this too ofc !!! >:)

I dont like Hunter.

Actually, that's not entirely true, I liked him in TCW season 7, when he was that silly man who fucked droids around the place, took no shit, and loved his brothers. I like the Hunter who, not putting this nicely, had a personality.

This is not a dig on him as a character, it's a dig on how he was handled, writing wise

Listen, I totally get that the "rugged-man-adopts-a-star-child" trope is popular, and I do LOVE that trope, really I do- I just don't really think it was done that well here? It's bothered me since s1 of the Bad Batch, and I don't think it's going to get any better this season....

My only real problem with the writing inconsistency of Hunter being an older brother of three to "Omega this, Omega that" and while I agree childcare is SUPER difficult at the best of times, Hunter had four brothers who were equally capable of taking care of Omega, too. It just never sat right with me that taking care of her became his ENTIRE personality

Hes a soldier, who despite being completely out of his element, had a routine he strictly followed for the whole war. Yet he seemed to completely forget about that ?? Stressed or not stressed, that worn in routines and LIFELONG LESSONS should not have left his head as quickly as they seemed to.

The most obvious and frustrating example of the oversimplification of Hunter's character is with Crosshair. I cannot even BEGIN to describe my anger when it comes to Hunter and Crosshair. It mainly stems from the way he just FORGETS his brother is with the Empire. Conveniently never bringing it up unless someone else did it first.

As the oldest sibling and squad leader, I personally think Hunter should have been the one to bring him up. It should not have had to be specifically mentioned by another character for Hunter to discuss it. He loves his brothers, he loved Crosshair, broody or not, he should have brought it up AT LEAST once, imo.

We also see this complete disregard for Crosshair AGAIN in s3, now that we have seen Hunter looking for Omega and not ONCE mentioning Crosshair. Has he forgotten that they were originally going to find Crosshair??? That they never actually FOUND their brother ??????? Annoyed me so much, tbh.

What else annoyed me was the singular language he used during the whole episode. "She's part of our squad." "Hemlock took SOMEONE from us." He's completely and utterly disregarding the OTHER TWO SIBLINGS that the Empire took away from him !!!!! It genuinely frustrates me so much.

I know I'm DEFINITELY nit-picking here, but even when Hunter looked to Tech's goggles, it was in a "He should've been here to do this." Way, not a "He should be here." Way. That's his brother, who died looking for another that Hunter has forgotten.

Hunter's tunnel vision is probably one my least favourite things about the Bad Batch, if I dare even MENTION that- and I love this show. It means so much to me, but I just can't handle this particular part of it...

I have so SO much anger directed towards the treatment of Hunter by the writers. I want the Hunter who was devoted to his WHOLE family, who fought for ALL of them, who would have NEVER allowed Crosshair to leave in the first place. Give me that Hunter back.

(Saying this- I do not mind Hunter and Omega's father/daughter and brother/sister relationship !!! I do really enjoy it- in small amounts. The fact that Hunter became nearly an extention of Omega really just- threw me off his whole character, really)

I specifically pick to ignore this when I'm making anything. Hunter has been a sergeant of three idiots(named endearingly) for the entirety of the war. One child who wanders around should not have taken up 100% of Hunter's attention, ESPECIALLY when he was surrounded and supported. It just bothers me, idk

Anyway, thats my rant !!! Back to some positives soon, promise !! I just had to get this off my chest, it's been BOTHERING me.

[chikaras-garden]

Mean Streak (reader's version)

Osamu is the world’s most perfect boyfriend: Sweet, doting, protective. He’d give you the world—but what happens when you ask him to be mean to you?

Pairing: dom!Osamu x sub!fem!reader

Words: 4.6k

Contains: soft! to mean!dom!Osamu, brat!reader, light breathplay, dumbification, dacryphilia, praise kink, degradation, oral sex (f!receiving), overstimulation, piv sex, ruined orgasm, desk sex, chair sex, roughness, spanking, mention of a safeword, little hint of size difference, O calls R “baby girl,” “baby,” “little girl,” “dumb girl,” “good girl,” yes this was a wild ride

Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked, Yachi’s version on ao3. Couldn’t decide if I wanted this to be x Yachi or x reader, so…I did both.

You’re pretty sure your boyfriend has a mean streak. He is Miya Atsumu’s twin brother, after all. They’re cut from the same cloth, mixed from the same pool of genes, but his temper is slower to rise than his brother’s. Even when he’s mad, he has a level of self-control unlike anyone else’s.

Instead of yelling at the toro supplier that’s actively trying to screw him over, he chokes down his words under a frustrated, throaty growl.

Instead of snapping at the customer trying to claim her food isn’t fresh, he smiles and offers a coupon while slicing a cucumber with so much force that the veins in his arm bulge.

Instead of putting Atsumu in his place before he starts getting annoying, your boyfriend just waits for his twin to make a fool of himself before calling him a few names that cut him straight to the core.

But, when you try to get him to be mean to you, all he does is raise his brow at you and pull you closer to his chest.

It’s hardly fair.

“You can have all the attention you want,” he chuckles every time you ask. Tucked in his lap, pressed up against his chest, the kindness in his words brings a pout to your lips. “I’ll spoil you until you cry—but baby, I can’t be mean to you.”

An idea forms while you’re waiting for Osamu to lock up the onigiri shop. Bored after finishing your last college class of the day, you’re just twiddling your thumbs while Osamu counts cash in his office. 

The first thing he did when you emerged through the shop door was vent about his day. First, there were more customers than he planned for, each one more impatient than the last that their onigiri had to be made fresh instead of grab-and-go. Then, one of the cashiers forgot that they had a dentist appointment and had to leave in the middle of the lunch rush. And, topping it all off, it’s Friday, which means that he has to close out the week’s worth of cash, and he keeps coming up with a different total every time he counts the bills.

Osamu is stressed. You would like to help him fix that.

You perch on his desk chair—stolen from in front of his computer—in the middle of the kitchen. It gives you a perfect view of Osamu, standing in front of his desk, framed by the bright white molding surrounding the back office door. But also, it means that he’s far away—at least, far enough that he’s not in arm’s reach, and that just won’t do.

Normally, you’d get up and drag the chair into his office to lean against him, or even give yourself a power nap snuggled up in the corner, under the ultra-coze industrial heat vent. But this time, you have a plan.

“Osamu,” you call, “aren’t you done yet?”

He sighs. It’s not at you (he would never), but at the fact that he just got pulled out of counting again. He drops the bills on the desk, sighs a second time, and picks them back up to start over. “I’ll be ready to go in a minute.”

A small part of you feels bad for provoking him, but you’re so curious, so needy for a side of Osamu that you never get to see—that you keep up the pressure. You whine, draping your arms on the prep table in front of you and pressing your cheek against your bicep. This time, Osamu slams the bills down, all but crushing the stack of paper under his hand. 

You imagine white-hot stings that turn to red marks, then pretty purple bruises. You think the sound of skin on skin would be much nicer than skin on paper, and the idea makes heat crawl up the back of your neck.

“For the love of,” your boyfriend says, starting to sound perturbed. “Baby, what?”

Honestly, how well this is going comes as a surprise. All you have to do is sniff, turn your nose up at Osamu’s baffled face, and give him your best pout, jutting your lip out so he can see the glimmer of saliva atop kissable skin.

You imagine him grabbing you by the back of your neck, forcing your lips open, and shoving his cock into your mouth to wipe the pout off your face. It’s a good thing the shop is chilly: you don’t have to hide the shiver that electrifies your core.

Then, you see him raise an eyebrow.

He holds up an arm, palm facing the ceiling, fingers outstretched. He’s so muscular, so invitingly warm in a dark blue t-shirt. It’s a soft one; it’s one of your favorites because of the color, the way it feels against your cheek, and the way it skims his arms.

Arms that can carry several restaurant-size bags of rice.

Arms that you wish were carrying you right now.

“C’mere.” His voice is like sugar. The sound of him beckoning you makes your face run hot, and you feel yourself almost giving in right then and there. He speaks gently, without judgment; like he understands you completely, like your acting up is a symptom, not a cause. 

You don't expect punishment when he talks to you like this. So, you swallow, remembering what you set out to do. You fidget, knees knocking together, and find stability in gripping the cool metal of Onigiri Miya’s prep counter. 

“No.”

Osamu looks at you like you just slapped him. His arm drops to his side while he, slack-jawed, tilts his head. “What did you just say?”

It’s a chance to change your mind, to whine and fall into your boyfriend’s loving arms so he can caress your cheeks and fuck the bad mood out of you. You could choose to let him spoil you with the attention you crave until you’re teary-eyed and babbling, giggling with the joy of having your needs answered with a loving touch.

But then, you see the tightness in Osamu’s jaw. Your legs feel hot.

“I said no,” you huff.

Osamu stares at you for a beat, studying you while the air in between you thickens, growing warm and sticky with tension. You try to hold still and steady so he doesn’t come to the conclusion that you don't really want this.

“Come over here and let me look at you.” 

You sit still for a second too long, because he adds, “Now, baby.”

As soon as you’re within arm’s reach, he seizes you by the waist and yanks you into him. You stumble forward, crashing into his chest with a soft thump. With his free hand, he grabs your chin, balancing your face between his thumb and forefinger to force you to look at him. He licks his lips while he observes you, and you wriggles because he’s so close, his skin is so warm, you want his tongue on you—

He squeezes your hip hard enough to make you whine. “Stop.”

Osamu backs you up until your thighs brush against his desk. He nudges you, lowering his palm until he gets a stable grip to lift you onto its surface, now with stacks of bills tucked hastily back into the cash register drawer. “Are you going to tell me why you’re being such a brat?”

He strokes a thumb across your lower lip. Spurred on by your own tingling desire, you open your mouth to invite his finger in. When he presses his thumb down on your tongue, making you drool and whine against his finger, he sighs; it’s shuddering, a messy blend of disappointment, relief, and lust. 

“Was this all you wanted, baby girl? My attention?” His soft tone draws you in. Your head tips forward until he catches you with his other hand, now stroking your cheek. He’s chuckling, now, and uses his hold on your mouth to make your nod. It’s a sign, symbolic of the fact that he always knows what you want, even if you don’t. 

You whine around his thumb, and he instantly shushes you. Gently, so gently, too gently, he cradles your head and guides you to rest against his shoulder. His muscles betray him; though his voice and the touches he’s controlling are soft, the subconscious tension in his arms is tight like a loaded spring.

Releasing his thumb, you mumble, “Want you to be mean.”

He coos, tutting at you as if you’re a toddler demanding a unicorn for your birthday. “You know I can’t do that. Besides, I don’t think that’s what you actually want.”

You blink up at him, eyes already glassy. You see the face of a man in love and drunk on it; he smiles sweetly, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, but there’s something else. A flash of cruelty in his eyes, a tension in his neck.

“‘Mean’ means that I leave you like this,” he continues, nonchalant. “‘Mean’ means that I take you back to your dorm for you to take care of this all by yourself.”

He gives your cheek a squeeze, then slides his thumb right back into your mouth, hooking it inside your cheek. “You don’t want that, do you, baby?”

You were going to shake your head anyway, but he tilts his wrist to do it for you. Again, he chuckles, and your chest fills with warmth at the velvet sound of your boyfriend sounding so pleased. With every word, you feel fuzzier and softer, pliant to anything he says you want.

Then, he pulls his thumb out of your mouth, leaving a pout behind. He stoops a little, crouching closer to your eye level. “I’m gonna give you what you actually want, okay? Need a real answer out of you, with words.”

Fuzzy as you may feel, you’re still (reasonably) coherent. You want Osamu, want whatever he has in mind, want to feel the results of your behavior as deeply as he’ll give. You’re teetering on the edge of your (and his) favorite headspace, a few perfect touches away from being blissed out and subby, all for him.

“Okay,” you murmur.

“Okay, who?”

“Okay, sir.”

“And your safeword?”

“Onigiri.”

“That’s right,” he coos. “That’s my girl.”

Osamu looks like a man wrestling with himself. He strokes your hips with gentle hands, sliding his fingers up under your shirt. But his arms, big and broad, strain. You can count the veins bulging under his skin, see how tight his muscles are, and oh, what you would give to be wrapped up in those arms for the rest of your life.

“Hey,” he interrupts. You look up and see the eyes of a worried lover. “I’ll never hurt you in ways you don’t like. Tell me as soon as anything’s too much, and I’ll go softer, understand?”

You nod.

“Yes or no, baby girl?”

“Yes, sir,” you insist. You lean forward slightly, entranced by the stern look on his face. He is the picture of control, looking at you in a way that conveys the internal calculations going on in his head. You think you’d like to help him let go of that, do what feels right instead of what he thinks is right.

You reach for the collar of his shirt, entwining your fingers in the soft fabric and tugging. “Please fuck me, sir.”

A low sound, thick with want, vibrates out of his throat. Those words went right to his cock, intensifying the growing bulge between his legs. You’re certain it’s making it harder and harder (pun intended) for him to concentrate; good, you think.

“Sit tight for a second.” He pats your hips and presses a kiss to your forehead. The gesture lasts one, two, three seconds, during which you can’t breathe. When he steps away, he’s biting his lip, hiding a grin—and then he winks.

You do not hide your grin from him. Instead, you let the flutter in your stomach inspire your feet to swing from your perch on Osamu’s desk.

After just a few seconds, he’s in front of you again, this time with the desk chair. He doesn’t wheel it, no; he picks it up, making it look weightless, and it looks like he’s flexing his arms on purpose to make you giggle.

It works.

“Thank everythin’ you’re wearing a skirt.” He grins wildly while he, with one hand on your waist and the other hand tightly gripping your fingers, helps you off the desk. Sure, you could do it herself, they both know, but you’d both much rather let Osamu handle everything. Falling into him and surrendering to trust feels good, and who are you to deny things that make your body sing?

Osamu flips up the bottom of your skirt and pulls, just slightly, so it’s hiked up around the top of your thighs. He gives you a look, and you quickly nod, which leads to him sliding your panties down your legs. Then, he nudges you to sit, and cool faux leather meets bare, burning skin.

You sigh, closing your eyes to stop yourself from shaking with anticipation. “I did it on purpose.”

“Of course you did.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Falling to his knees at your feet, Osamu looks at you with love: nothing more, nothing less.

He lays kisses all over your legs. Starting playfully, dotting your shins and knees with little pecks that make you giggle, he ends up open-mouthed, sucking shades of mauve, raspberry, and plum into the soft, sweet skin of your thighs. 

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs before kissing the juncture of your thigh and your hip. “You’re so beautiful. Like a work of art”

Then, his lips latch onto your clit, and he begins to suckle on your bundle of nerves like a man that hasn’t seen water for days, and a secret oasis resides between your legs.

Every time you moan, he sucks harder, creating a vicious cycle of action and reaction where his role and yours blur together. He makes you whimper with need, and he answers every one of your calls; he sets metaphorical fire to your trembling bud, and sounds of ecstasy erupt from your lips. 

Frustratingly, his tongue doesn’t go near your folds, never strays from your clit, treats this like an appetizer before tasting the sweet, wet fruit of his labor.

And then, he leans back on his heels.

You gasp at the loss of contact. Cold, artificial air rushes your clit, feeling like ice against his left-behind saliva, and your wriggle against the chair, not sure if you want to be closer or farther away from him. “S-Samu—S-Sir!”

“That was mean,” he tells you. You know—your mind and body feel the realization with agony, his teasing slicing through you like a sharpened blade. His bait-and-switch is unfair, so unfair that the lonely ache in your pussy hurts, leaving you shuddering and weak in the knees while he looks at you with a patronizing stare.

Not one to torture you for long, though, he leans forward again, brushing his nose up against your sex. You whine, throwing your legs over his shoulders to pull him closer, closer, until his lips ghost along the slick edges of your core. He sighs, blowing warm air into you in a way that makes you keen.

You reach and grab a fist of his hair, at which he grunts; with trembling lips, you resign to begging, “Please, please, sir.”

You get the raised brow again, a little gesture that makes you want to throw yout head back and cry out in frustration. “Thought you wanted mean?”

“‘M sorry, sir, I-I—”

“That’s right,” he cuts you off in a tone that’s over-the-top condescending, hinting that he doesn’t really mean it. You recognize the sound of Osamu’s voice when he’s electric, on fire with adrenaline. Every word is laced with a wicked degree of lust that makes your heart pound, makes you struggle closer to him. “My girl’s too dumb to know what she wants.”

Osamu runs his hands up and down your legs, then he grips your knees, wrapping your thighs snugly around his broad shoulders. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, caring, and full of love, but his smirk mocks the way you’re falling apart in his hands. “‘S okay, though. That’s why I’m here. You need me to take care of you, don’t you, baby girl?”

You rush to agree, nodding as you sniffle and press one of your thighs closer to Osamu’s mouth. “I-I can’t…I need you, s-sir.”

“I know, baby; I know.” To soothe you—because he can’t help himself—he presses an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, then bites down until you squeal. You, unaware of what your body is doing to him, reward him with a sudden tug to the fistful of his hair you’re holding onto for dear life. He lets you lead him even though he’s fully aware that you’re not coherent enough to realize it; when you pull, he presses his nose above your sex, grazing his teeth along the flesh of your mound until he reaches the top of your folds.

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he growls, right before he dives back in for seconds, tongue flat against your core.

He slides his tongue down from your clit to your weeping hole, dipping just the tip inside. For himself, he wants to savor your saccharine taste; for you, he wants to draw out your pleasure as long as possible, to hold you over the edge of bliss until you’re breathless because of him.

While he slides his tongue in and out of you, lapping from the bottom of your folds up to your clit, he swirls his tongue around your pert bundle of nerves, then angles his chin so his nose bumps against your clit with every downward stroke of his tongue. A waterfall of moans spills out of your lips, any word other than please completely forgotten from your vocabulary. He loves his girl, his polite baby, and as such, the ministrations of his tongue start to quicken, to become rushed and ragged because he, too, needs more.

Your vision starts to blur with pleasure, with tears. You’re close, so close, and you feel knots tying themselves in your stomach and your groin. Wordlessly, thrusting shallowly forward, you beg him not to pull away again; you were wrong, you want to cry, you don’t want him to be mean.

You chase the building high, follow the white hot light building in your vision all the way to your peak. Hips rocking forward, meeting his tongue with no rhythm whatsoever and knocking your clit against his teeth. Legs squeezing, pressing his warm cheeks into you until his 5 o’clock shadow scrapes angry marks into your thighs.

Right before your orgasm crashes over you, he pulls away again.

The sound you make is somewhere between a moan and a sob, and fat tears finally break free from your eyes as your blubber, choking and gasping on your ruined orgasm “N-No, sir, please.”

You don't get very long to cry, though, as he rushes to stand over you. His hands grab both of your cheeks and pull you into him, kissing you so deeply that your ability to think finally melts away completely. His tongue is in your mouth. You taste yourself on him: salty, sweet, musky. His fingers are as cold as ice against your burning skin, heat radiating from your cheeks, to your chest, to your stomach, to your groin. You fidget, but that makes him hold you tighter, pinning your soft cheeks between his calloused hands.

Whimpering, mewling against his lips, you paw at his chest. Broad muscle meets weak fingers, and you tug at the fabric in your way. You need him, need to feel him, need him to hold you now before all of your pieces fall apart.

Osamu pulls his tongue out of your mouth, but you’re too dazed to speak. He presses kisses down your throat, pausing only to suck on your collarbone while quick fingers make easy work of your sweater’s buttons. He glances up at you through half-lidded eyes, grinning as he presses feather-light kisses to the top of your chest. “What’re you crying for, pretty girl? This is what you asked for.”

You take a deep breath, arch your back, push your chest closer to his face. “P-Please, I want…”

When your voice falls off, too weak to finish your sentence, he gives you a fox-like grin. “You want?”

You whine, kicking your feet out behind him. One leg wraps around his waist, the other tangles behind his thigh. Your hands find stability in grabbing his forearms, and you fleetingly think that’s a mistake because he’s so strong and thick that your middle finger and thumb aren’t even close to touching.

“Good girls ask for what they want,” he breathes, letting go of one side of your face to brush his fingers down your throat. He admires you like a fine work of art, but there’s a determination in his touch. A plan, something he knows that you don't.

Asking for what you want is easier said than done when you’re fully clothed, let alone when you’re halfway to the best orgasm of your life. You know he just needs a few words, that you want to be good, and that he likes his good girl, but you struggle to breathe around the words while he, one-handed, unclasps your bra and starts caressing your breast.

“Did you hear me, baby?”

You blinked up at him, nodding feverishly.

He presses his thumb against the side of your neck. Your breach catches under the pad of his finger. “Then tell me what you want.”

His pace grinds to an almost total stop; just one hand keeps massaging your breast. You lick your lips, rock forward, and press your sticky forehead to Osamu’s arm. You sniffle, hot tears rolling off your cheek and into the crook of his elbow.

“I can’t,” you babble, barely louder than a whisper. “‘M sorry, I-I can’t.”

“Oh baby, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for being my dumb little girl.” At that, at the gentle tone he mocks you with, something snaps in your chest. You feel as if you needed to be broken apart to feel whole again; when your pride shatters, you cry more freely, face blotchy and wet with tears while you cling to Osamu for dear life. Underneath the cracked surface, though, you feel bright and new, shining bright from the trust you give him, and the safety he gives you in return.

Osamu pulls you up by your throat and you yelp, raising your head to stare at him with bleary eyes. 

“You’re fucking perfect, just like this,” he assures you. Then, he kisses you slowly, loops his arms around you to make you turn around, then presses you face-first against his desk. You close your eyes and let out a shaky sigh; your knees tremble and your hands buzz, not quite feeling the desk’s smooth surface under the electricity coursing through your veins.

And then Osamu spanks you.

It’s just one slap, and you cry out more in surprise than out of pain. Heat rushes to your ass while you whine, feeling the impact turn into liquid arousal dripping between your slick folds. 

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

You nod with all the vigor you can gather. To that, he spanks the other cheek.

“Yes or no, baby?”

“Yes, sir!” you blurt. You squeeze your eyes shut, ready, hoping for another impact that never comes. Instead, you hear a quiet, metallic clink, then ruffling fabric, then the sound of thin plastic tearing.

All signs point to being seconds away from getting your boyfriend’s cock, and your heart stutters with want.

He runs a hand up and down your spine, and you can’t help but note how heavy his grip feels, how he commands you with the lightest of touches. His other hand grabs your hip, holding you steady once he chooses the right position, lines himself up, and pushes into you with ease.

A throaty growl reaches your ears. You feel his day’s frustration melt away with every inch he stretches you open with, feel tension leave his body as soon as the tip of his cock brushes your cervix. All that’s left behind is his hunger, which he chases by picking up the pace as soon as he’s fully stuffed inside you.

Frustration is replaced with an insatiable desire that has him pounding you so hard that his thighs slap against the backs of yours, your ass slams into his hips, and you’re seeing stars. Your lips hang open while you gasp for air, and tears stream down your face, but your head spins, revolving around the bright moon that fills your sky: Osamu, Osamu, Osamu.

You aren’t sure just how many times he spanks you; you’re not counting beats to see if he’s keeping time with the unfair pace of his thrust. All you know is the feeling of clenching hard at every impact, making him groan every time his hand comes down on your ass, and you hear skin on skin, huffs of breath, and feral growls—all behind you.

Osamu.

“Too fucked out—shit—to think, huh baby girl?” He stutters through his words, barely able to form a complete thought of his own while he reaches forward, under your belly to find your clit from above. 

As soon as he touches you, you choke on a sob. You register a few words in his voice, but you can’t tell if they’re real, or you’re imagining them. 

“It’s—’s okay. I’ll think for ya.”

So fucking tight. 

Is this what you wanted, baby? 

Wanted to make—make me take out all my anger on you?

My perfect little f-fuckdoll.

Good—good girl. Good fucking girl.

Come, baby girl; come for me right now.

And, because Osamu knows what you want best of all, you do. You snap like a pair of chopsticks, splintering, messy, coming undone in a way that permanently changes your very structure. You feel different, made new, changed into something useful for him to satisfy his hunger.

Your orgasm ripples through you in waves that have you heaving. Warm skin, glassy eyes, wet cheeks, hips pressing back into Osamu to swallow him more. You clamp down on him hard, pussy spasming, sucking him dry, pulling an orgasm from him that has him draped over you: slick with sweat, biting down on your shoulder, hand tangled tightly with yours.

“Fuck,” he whines. Afterglow bubbles in your stomach, leaving you delirious and woozy; all you can do in response is whimper.

“‘Ve gotcha,” he slurs. After massaging his hands into your shoulders and down your sides, he winds his arms around your waist and hoists you up as if you weigh nothing. He balances your head on his shoulder and, in spite of his own wobbly, uneven gait, carries you to sit in his office chair, where you curl up in his lap.

“Sir,” you murmur, reaching to smooth your hands over his chest. 

He catches one, presses a kiss to every finger, your palm, and your wrist. “You did so good, baby girl. ‘S over now—you’re safe.”

You bury your face in his neck, too tired to do anything else. But, you do have the fleeting thought that, with him, no matter what you beg him to do to you, “safe” is what you’ll always be.

[thedovesaredying]

Monsters in the Dark | Nikto x Reader | Part 2

Second chapter of the Cowboy!Nikto AU. Written from the POV of Nikto this time. A reminder once again that there's a prologue and "part 1" is only the first full chapter. The original cowboy AU is owned and created by @ghouljams.

A/N: I'm a day late on my estimation for when it would be done, but life decided to get me sick, busy with uni work, and put one of my legs completely out of action. I also realized about 3 husbandry manuals deep into my research that the chapter would be a bit too long if I included that much information. Instead, the info will be sprinkled in among the next few chapters.

Warnings: Sputnik being a silly girl.

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

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The weather is downright miserable. While one might assume the worst weather would be torrential rain or unforgiving hail, Nikto is firmly of the belief that there’s nothing worse than a hot, sunny day. It’s hard enough to be constantly covered from head to toe, but to then add on the Texan sun beating down at its full strength? He’s certain he’ll be nothing more than a puddle of sweat by the end of the day.  

At least Sputnik seems to be enjoying the disgusting temperatures. She’s running around the front of the property, completely unfazed by the heat. She welcomes it, in fact, using it as the perfect excuse to paddle into the large dam for a cool swim at the day’s warmest.  

Her paws are caked with mud and grass, so much to her sadness she’s been barred from entering the house, forced to wait until she’s dried off and all the muck has fallen off of her paws. If she’s still dirty by the end of the day then a quick hosing down will be in order, but she’ll likely consider that a fun game too.  

For now, she’s content to lay stretched out on the porch, her side rapidly rising and falling as she pants.  

The weather isn’t the only thing that’s miserable, however. Nikto’s mood has been foul ever since his forced trip into town for new supplies. A certain hyena had decided that she was bored while her owner was away and had decided to chew a rather large hole in the wall of the shed.  

The hole was easily large enough for her to climb through and so, after having already spent most of the day hard at work, Nikto was forced to leave for the only hardware store in town. Some new planks of wood and a hammer not riddled with rust later, and he’s reminded of the invoice he received the vet clinic a few days prior and has also yet to pay for.  

He’s not quite sure what possessed him to go to the clinic in person, but he was disappointed regardless with what greeted him. The receptionist was painfully cheery and seemed determined to dig into his business with her endless questions. He’d left feeling completely drained from only a single conversation with the woman. You hadn’t been there. He can’t fathom why that annoys him so much.  

The hole in the shed was simple enough to fix, even under the intensity of the sweltering heat, but the issue of Sputnik remains.  

Clearly, he can’t leave her unattended for several hours at a time just for work. She’s never had to entertain herself in such an environment and clearly, it’s stressing her out being without her only packmate. She requires both social interaction and physical activity, but above all of that, needs mental stimulation.  

Like a toddler left without a guardian, Sputnik has decided that she can tear apart the house and garden while unattended. Plants have been torn out of the ground, wooden structures gnawed to bits, and most concerningly, large holes dug along the fence line.  

The situation is far from ideal, but Nikto does not abandon his own. He isn’t like those bastards at the CIA who are willing to leave those loyal to them knowing full well they will perish without help. He made that decision a long time ago, and Sputnik’s very name is a tribute to that.  

It was only three years ago, but it felt like eons. It started with a small enemy group hidden deep within the South African wilderness who were utilising spotted hyenas as guard animals. Nikto and his team had cut through the animals both outside and inside the building, even the ones hidden away in the basement below. 

In the end, only a single cub remained; a tiny girl still nestled up against the steadily cooling body of her mother. She couldn’t have been more than a week or two of age, bright eyed as all hyena newborns are, and covered in scraggly fur.  

The other men on the team planned on putting the animal out of her misery, but the sight gave Nikto pause. She was small and defenceless, and abandoned by her cowardly handlers to be killed by their enemy. It was a story he couldn’t help but find familiar. Picking up the infant, she snuggles into his vest, completely trusting of him despite not having known him for more than a few seconds.  

She whines and licks at him as he tucks her into his shirt, safe and warm pressed up against scarred skin. No one says a word, when he leaves the compound with the cub and boards the waiting helicopter for the trip back to base.  

His first thought was to name her Laika, but that name seemed a little too common for his taste, and so he chose Sputnik, the name of Laika’s space capsule and eventual tomb. A tribute to yet another stray who was left behind by those who should have protected her.  

Sputnik would not suffer the same fate; she would never be disregarded like a broken toy thrown into the trash. She’s good, she’s loyal, she trusts Nikto unconditionally. Destroying a bit of property would never be a reason to break that trust.  

Instead, he presses dial on your number and holds his phone to his ear. He’s been thinking it over for several minutes, finger hovering over the button with your contact listed, before forcing himself to press it. For a long while it rings and he’s about to give up when you finally answer with a bright greeting to whoever is on the other side.  

He grunts out your name, listening as you happily chirp his own back at him in return. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask. He can hear the soft rumbling of a car’s engine in the background and can only assume you’re driving somewhere.  

“I require... assistance,” he says after a long pause, letting the conversation drift into silence. While it isn’t necessarily help he’s asking for, it still rankles deeply that he isn’t solving the issue alone. He despises being indebted to anyone for anything, but for some reason he doesn’t get the feeling you’re out to acquire favours from anyone. You’re a professional merely doing what you’re trained for and nothing more. He can admire that.  

“What can I help you with? Is Sputnik alright?” You sound so genuinely concerned about her, so much so that it sounds like you almost drop your phone.  

He glances down at the hyena laying happily at his feet, panting up at him with a broad grin. “She is fine,” he confirms, catching the relieved sigh you let out, “it is behavioural issues she is dealing with.”  

You make a soft sound, clearly intrigued, “well, I’m on the road at the moment heading toward my next appointment, but I should have time to drop in to your place in a few hours. Will you be around then?”  

“да,” he hums, “we will be here.”  

“Perfect! I’ll be there in a few,” you confirm, and after offering an acknowledging grunt, he ends the call.  

He goes to pocket the phone but pauses, glancing at your number. Mulling it over for a good long while, he selects the number and adds it to his contacts. There’s only two other people there, one of them his current workplace and the other one of his old acquaintances from before even his time in KorTac.  

A rather dramatic huff from Sputnik draws his attention from staring at his phone, and he watches her with hidden amusement as she rolls over onto her stomach. She looks up at him with big, sad eyes and a pathetic whine. When he merely rolls his eyes at her she playfully snaps her teeth in his direction.  

“Я не знал, что ты такая королева драмы,” he growls back, curling the undamaged part of his lip at her.  

The hyena, fortunately, can tell he’s still joking despite his deadpan tone and leaps to her feet with a delighted cackle. She shakes out her coat, biting at the air. The moment he so much as twitches a finger in her direction she turns and leaps off the top of the deck, forgoing the stairs so she can sprint across the yard.  

Nikto stands from his chair but doesn’t give chase, watching as the crazy animal spins around in circles before darting off toward the dam again. She dives into the water with a splash, sending muddy water in all directions. He cringes slightly at the sight of the hyena now dripping with muck. At least he was already planning on hosing her down. The rest of the afternoon passes slowly, with Nikto taking some time to rest while Sputnik causes minimal trouble.  

When your car finally does pull up, the poor girl has exhausted herself again, laying in a pile of leaves while she happily naps away. The moment her flicking ears pick up the sound of your truck on the gravel she jumps up again, eyes wide as she takes in the familiar sight. She’s already giggling to herself with excitement, looking between Nikto and your vehicle.  

“место!” Nikto calls, ignoring the sad whimper that earns. He approaches when you pull up, patiently waiting as you drop out of the front seat and close the door behind you.  

When you spot him, you offer a wave and grin, “hey, Nikto!” You take a moment to glance over at Sputnik and he can see her near enough vibrating with how excited she is to come over and greet you out of the corner of her eye. “How’ve you been doing?” you stop just before him, looking him right in the eye, completely unfazed by the monster you’re facing down.  

“We are fine,” he says, perhaps a little too firmly given the way you blink at him, “we require some assistance with behavioural issues.” He quickly amends his statement in the hopes of not immediately scaring you off.  

Fortunately, you’re quick to bounce back, a smile returning to your face, “of course, what sorts of problems are you experiencing?”  

“Спутник!” The hyena’s head shoots up upon hearing her name, “ко мне!” She sprints across the grass, very nearly crashing into his legs with her enthusiasm to heed her owner’s command. “She is getting bored when left alone,” he explains, watching as you reach your hand out for the hyena, “eating walls, digging holes, breaking everything she can reach.”  

Sputnik snuffles at your hand, before whining and immediately shifting to lean up against you, demanding pets. You scratch behind her neck and Sputnik’s tongue lolls out of her mouth in delight. “I’m sure we can work something out to help prevent her from damaging anything else or accidentally eating something she shouldn’t be.”  

“She struggles when left alone, especially during work hours,” he adds on, turning and starting to stalk toward the side of the house where the majority of the damage can be seen.  

“Okay, well she sounds like she just needs some enrichment to keep her occupied while you’re away,” you nod to yourself as you follow Nikto around to the side of the house. Several of the small plants that had been happily growing in little spots around the yard have been either pulled from the soil or completely shredded if they couldn’t be moved.  

You look at the scattered remains of the poor shed’s wall, but don’t look entirely surprised by the backyard warzone you’ve stepped into. You frown down at Sputnik, scratching her between the ears, “what a silly girl,” you coo, rubbing at her ears as the hyena grins up at you with half-lidded eyes, “you shouldn’t be eating all this stuff, it’ll make your tummy sore!” 

Somehow, your baby-talk voice just serves to make Sputnik even giddier, and she eagerly licks at the tips of your fingers. Nikto almost rolls his eyes at the little heart eyes the animal is subjecting you to. It’s impressive, really, how she can remember someone is a friend from only a single interaction.  

When you snap back from your babying of the animal, you quickly refocus. “Hyenas have very powerful jaws, and they love to chew things, so if she doesn’t have enough to keep her entertained then she’ll find something to destroy.”  

“She was given an old tyre a few weeks ago, but it only lasted a few days.” To say he was deeply unimpressed with how quickly she’d torn it to pieces would be an understatement. He knew that Sputnik had quite the bite on her, but to chomp through nine millimetres of rubber like it’s cardboard? Impressive, if a little annoying.  

“How big is your freezer?” you abruptly ask him, and Nikto suddenly worries where this line of questioning is going. Does he need to check the trunk of your car? Regardless, he offers you a nod.  

“Perfect!” You clap your hands together, making Sputnik jump excitedly at the sudden sound, “it’s supposed to be quite hot tomorrow, so I can think of at least one idea for her.” You start listing out what the two of you are going to do rapid-fire with the same confidence and efficiency of any commanding officer.  

You’re in your element, your passion for your work clear as day and you have him following your every instruction. You’re like a fount of knowledge when it comes to anything and everything husbandry related, suggesting changes to Sputnik’s diet, new toys to keep her entertained, and ways to prevent her from destroying anything she really shouldn’t be messing with.  

When you finally end up leaving, it’s long past sundown. Sputnik has grown bored of watching the two of you working in the shed and has retired to her massive dog bed for a nap, so the two of you have been working in comfortable silence. He’s glad you don’t feel the need to fill the air with irritating chatter, only offering corrections here and there.  

He escorts you to back to your truck, closing your door behind you once you’re settled comfortably into the driver’s seat. You roll down the window and offer him a grin, but he can see just how tired you are given how your eyes are slightly drooped. “How much do we owe?” he asks, quickly tearing his gaze from your sweet smile.  

Little wrinkles appear across your forehead as your lips turn downward, an innocent, confused look on your face, “owe you?” 

He resists the urge to roll his eyes and instead just huffs in mild amusement, “payment, for your work.” 

Your eyes light up in understanding and you laugh, “oh, no, don’t worry about that,” you wave him off, “I’m just happy to help out.” You just smile up at him, as if you can’t see anything wrong with what you just said.  

Nikto is forced to remind himself that you’re a civilian, not another untrustworthy operator. Not everyone does things purely for the pay they’ll be rewarded with, even if the very thought of not giving you something in return makes him uncomfortable. He holds his hand out to you, “phone.”  

You blink at him for a second, but quickly do as you’re told, just like the good girl you are. He goes into your contacts and adds his number and details, hitting save the moment he’s done. He doesn’t bother adding a picture, passing your phone back to you, “call us when you require assistance.” He waits until you offer him a nod before he steps back from the side of the car.  

You have an odd, flustered look on your face for some reason, but you’re quick to snap out of whatever daze you're in and give him a quick wave as you put your truck into reverse. He watches silently as you disappear back down the driveway and into the steadily darkening evening, waiting until you’re out of sight.  

Sputnik is absolutely delighted the following morning when Nikto presents her with her blood and peanut butter ice block.

-

Translations

“да,” - “Yes” 

“Я не знал, что ты такая королева драмы,” - “I didn't know you were such a drama queen,”  

“место!” - “Stay!” 

“Спутник!” - “Sputnik!” 

“ко мне!” - “Come!”  

[animebw]

So! In order to keep myself from losing my goddamn mind in the aftermath of that G-Witch episode (how are we supposed to wait two weeks for the next episode I swear to fuck), I want to take a second and focus on something this show has done exceptionally well, but that I haven’t really seen talked about at all. Namely, the fact that Suletta is one of the best examples of an overpowered protagonist I’ve ever seen.

And yes, she is canonically overpowered. As long as she has Aerial by her side, she can curb-stomp pretty much every opponent without breaking a sweat. Time and again, she goes up against impossible odds and wipes the floor with them The best duelist at school? Chump. Facing multiple opponents alone and outnumbered? Child’s play. And honestly, I was starting to get annoyed by it around the end of the first season. How are we supposed to believe Suletta’s ever going to be in danger if she’s so ludicrously stronger than everyone else?

And then The Slap happened, and everything turns upside-down.

See, what makes season 1′s cliffhanger ending so goddamn powerful isn’t just the sight of our cheerful bumbling protagonist liquifying a living person into red paste in front of her horrified fiance. It’s not just the realization of how deep Prospera’s manipulation has twisted Suletta’s sense of identity. No, the real secret behind The Slap’s brilliance is that it retroactively makes every single moment of Overpowered Suletta fucking terrifying. Suddenly, we realize that her overwhelming strength in battle is a direct result of Prospera’s influence, raising her to be the perfect pawn in her little scheme. The reason she’s able to knock the socks off every single opponent she faces isn’t just Latent Protag Syndrome; it’s because her mother crafted her into a relentless warrior with the strength to destroy any obstacle in the path to her revenge. Suletta’s strength in battle isn’t just overwhelming; it’s dangerous, to herself and everyone around her. And the second she has to unleash that strength in a situation more serious than a no-casualties school sporting match, it becomes instantly, horrifyingly clear that she is in no way ready to grapple with the great responsibility that comes with such great power.

In other words, what first seemed like just a case of another anime protagonist winning every fight because reasons turns on its head and makes that overpowered nature a source of fear, both for the audience and for Miorine. So instead of ending up a boring tension-killer where we’re never afraid for Suletta’s safety, the fact that she’s capable of such force becomes the most critical source of tension and conflict driving her and Miorine’s story in the second season. Suletta being so overpowered is an explicit character flaw, at least as long as Prospera’s claws are in her. Because just because she can punch away any physical threat in her path doesn’t mean she’s not vulnerable in countless other areas. She may be the strongest in a fight, but she has nowhere near the strength of character to deal with the political schemes and emotional burdens that come about as a result of that strength. All that skill on the battlefield doesn’t mean shit when you can’t see how that skill is being manipulated for dark ends, or causing you to take on stress and trauma you have no healthy way of coping with. Suletta can smash her way to victory in any fight, and yet she’s the most vulnerable, least protected person in the entire cast, in no small part thanks to the forces that made her so strong in the first place.

There’s a reason characters like Saitama from One Punch Man and Mob from Mob Psycho 100 are so beloved, despite being so overpowered. ONE knows that in order to make an overpowered character interesting, you need to give them struggles beyond the scope of their powers to fix. Saitama can punch a mountain in half, but he can’t punch his way out of existential ennui; that’s just as much of a struggle for him as any normal person. Mob’s psychic powers can’t solve his emotional turmoil or provide him the perfect path toward maturity; he has to figure that out himself. They are overwhelmingly strong in fights, but the primary conflict of their stories has very little to do with those fights and everything to do with their growth as people. They’re stories about how even being the strongest person alive doesn’t protect you from the challenges of life that everyone on this planet faces, and their journeys to self-actualization are enormously compelling as a result. No one remembers the overpowered exploits of Isekai Harem Protagonist du jour; everyone remembers watching Saitama and Mob slowly find their way forward in life, one simple step at a time.

Suletta, in my eyes, is very much in the same vein. Like Saitama and Mob and all the best overpowered protagonists, her writing understands that being incredibly skilled in one area doesn’t mean you can’t be challenged in others- and in Mob’s case especially, how that incredible skill can actually be the biggest obstacle for the challenge you actually need to overcome. Suletta’s skill in battle is made compelling by her lack of that same skill in other areas, and the ultimate conflict of Gundam Witch is a conflict she cannot punch her way out of. If she’s going to survive this chaos and live happily every after with Miorine, she will need to struggle to overcome her years of conditioning and emotional uncertainty. She will need to struggle just as Mob struggled, just as Saitama struggled, not just to learn the skills she hasn’t developed yet, but to push back against the influence that resulted in her being so freakishly strong in the first place. Suletta is an overpowered protagonist who’s overpowered nature is, itself, the greatest challenge she will have to overcome in order to truly save herself and the people she loves. And I think that’s really damn neat.

[momolady]

2023 Year End Stats

Not to be stereotypical or anything, but for me at least, 2023 was an odd year. I bled for 6 months straight, dealt with the worst pain I still can't comprehend, had a hysterectomy, moved in with my partner, got some cats, dealt with a lot of stress, watched the world burn. Yeah, it's been pretty good to outweigh the bad.

But anyways! I've done the math and put together a list of my stories that performed the best this year. At least in terms of notes anyways. I'm also going to share my stories that didn't perform as well and hope they get the love they deserve.

Anyways, let's get on with the count down. Forty total stories have published on Tumblr this year. Sixty-six were published on Patreon. Top monsters were orcs (7), Vampire (3), Fae, Minotaur, Romm Monster, Lich (all 2).

Top Ten Stories:

10. Kahann the Naga

This one would probably be in my top ten favorites to write of the year. This dark, twisted romance between a lonely, isolated girl shipwrecked on an island with the dangerous and sexy Kahann struck the dark romance itch I've been wanting to scratch.

9. Keir the Orc

Comfy farm romance that features annoyances to lvoers. What else could you want? Orcs are always fun to write, I feel I could do it with my eyes closed, but thankfully I don't wanna do that.

8. Atharo the Lich

The pink lich, this one had imagery in it I couldn't get out of my head. the visions of this pink lich still huant me and I wish I could conjur such sstrong imagery still.

7. Asier the Drider

A simple premise we cann understand. Getting packages and ordering online is probably yhe msot fun we can have without leaving our homes. But what if your neighbor was annoyed by this? And what if that neighbor was a drider?

6. Auberon the Room Monster

The enchanted library. i think I've written more about the romance and mystery of bookstores an libraries more than anything. But this story was special, with lots of worldbuilding wrapped like a blanket around these characters. The room this monster stays in is the library, and who doesn't wanna spend time with that guy?

5. Marek the Vampire

This murky, dark, and swampy tale is one of those that stays with me. The idea of a different sort of vampire, one in the bogs and wetlands of a strange peninsula that gets flooded every year haunts me. The image of him is one of my absolute favorite creations and I hope I get to visit this peninsula village again.

4. Placide the Paralangua

This story marks the beginning and growth of my Charcourt universe. Liek Hearthway Hollow it's a town filled to the brim with straneg creatures, only it's the Paralangua, alligator type monsters who throw a festival every year to celebrate their history and the continued growth of Charcourt. Is it a cult? Maybe. There's a new five part tale of this area up on Patreon now.

3. Ben the Werewolf

Enmies to lovers, I think most people get on board with this trope. This tale of Hearthway Hollow delves into the relationship between two high school enemies who reconnect after years and manage to put aside their competitivness to find one another. The lead in thisstory is also Rowan's little sister.

2. Leraye the Demon

Demons are always fun. My demon characters have ways of weaving themselves in and out of the world we know, sometimes as proper members of society, often not. Leraye is one of those that visits our world as a full time member, seeing out the comforts of a Chinese bakery whose owners are a family with ties into the reality he avoids.

Florenz the Vampire Bat

This would for sure also be on my favorites of the year. This dark story wove together elements of fantasy, horror, and romance that I love to death. The lead is sophisticated and dashing, the lead is adventurous and excitable. The chemistry between the leads while writing this tale was so good.

The Ten Least Appreciated Stories

10. Juniper the Tiefling

I am deeply disappointed this didn't do as well as I expected. This story was based on characters me and my bff made for a one shot DND session. So this story was more personal to me than others. but more than that, I feel it had some of my best banter!

9. Rocco the Guard

Another personal tale based on ideas me and my friend came up with during a visit where we watched the Owl House together. I also greatly enjoyed the leading lady who was smart, spunky, and chaotic in the absolute best ways.

8. Ozzie the Werewolf & Tryfon the Naiad

It has a trans lead, it has polyamory, it was set in hearthway Hollow! I thought this story was serving up gold on a platter. But maybe people weren't in the mood for gold. The comedy in this is top notch, at least I thought.

7. Laertes the Fae

Another story where the dialogue I feel sparkles and pops with every interaction the characters had. This did only recently come out, so maybe it'll grow after this.

6. Ransom the Shapeshifter

Another personal story based around lore me and my bff created for our Stardew Valley characters. It also featured a nonbinary lead and monster, I thought people would be excited for this. I loved playing with the avant-garde sci-fi aspect and being a little weird. But maybe that's why people didn't like it too much lol

5. The Leshy

Another story that would be in my top ten for my personal favorites to write. I loved the complexity of the leading lady and crafting her has made her a personal favorite. The characters and world of this story will be one that stays with my thoughts as I think about the cozy, dark streets anfdthe moss covered steps of the buildings.

4. Jaqueline the Dullahan

This story has it all! Chocolate, Halloween, a sexy dullahan chef, and it's a lesbian romance. Maybe I don't have enough wlw readers but this story came from a ko-fi prompt I wrot and just grew into a full fledged story. I really enjoyed the atmosphere of this story and how it felt like a cozy fireplace with hot cocoa.

3. Beast the Symbiote

Beast is a character I have been wanting to get out into the world for years. She's such a complex villain character, and who doesn't love that. I feel like she is one of my coolest characters. Lucky Devil was also a character I had been dying to get out, she's been in my head since I watched Magi Madoka and she took form slowly over the years. She is in part based on me, and I want to do more with this lovely couple.

2. Fia the Selkie

I'm starting to see a pattern here. Male reader stories aren't ya'lls cup of tea? Too bad, I have some amazing male readers and commissioners I adore working for. Fia was this comforting warm blanket of a story. A struggling musician and the lovely Selkie he's come to be with. I really love this story, please check it out if you want some comfort.

1.Ria the Orc: an AU

I'm actually a wee bit pissed about this one. Another male reader, and Ria is a character I've come to absolutely love. This was written for a commissioner I've come to consider a friend, and writing for him has become an amazing experience. Ria and her beau have also become such real, loving characters in my head. This was an AU of the modern monsters Ria where she is in Obresh and participates in the Reaping. Who doesn't love Reaping stories? C'mon folks, give these ten stories the love they deserve!

Thank you all for an amazing year! Next year I will hopefully publish and you're going to see bigger and grander things from me, I owe that to all of you. Keep a look out for my Ozren novel hitting the shelf soon. Thank you so much and I hope I continue to write stories you love.

[katskitoshi]

"SWEET NIGHT TIME THINGS," with OBEY ME

synopsis -- sweet things you do before bed with your lover.

characters: lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor x gender neutral! reader.

includes -- nothing but fluff i think.

silent praise with lucifer!

--he is pride. and he loves having his ego inflated. nothing helps him sleep better knowing that you think of him so highly.

before bed, remind him of how great he is without saying anything. hold his hand or just make him a cup of soothing tea to relieve stress. he'll most likely appreciate your actions. his pride won't let you do this to him in public, but now that you both are alone before bed, lucifer can finally let you express for affections.

sleepy rants with mammon!

-- mammon is talkative, especially around you. even as he winds down at night, mammon can’t resist talking to you about his day.

he’ll have you curled up close to him and he’ll start mumbling about whatever comes to mind. grimm, gambling, annoying punishments from lucifer. it all just escapes him at night as he has you close to him!

his favorite part is that he knows it soothes you to sleep too. so while he’s dozing off mumbling senseless nonsense, he knows you’re getting as close to sleep as he is.

as you just barely make it into dreamland, you can hear mammon faintly mumbling off about a new topic: how much he loves you.

passed out from exhaustion with leviathan!

--it's no secret or surprise that leviathan stays up late. everyone knows it, including you. in hopes to spend time with him more, you accompany him in his late nights.

you both stay up gaming or watching anime or something to the point where it's hard for you both to even open your eyes once you blink. as exhaustion weighs on you both, you lean into each other and begin the drift into dreamworld.

the game or show or something now discarded from your mind, levi holds you in his arms as you both silently enjoy each others time.

bedtime stories with satan!

—it doesn’t matter to you nor him that bedtime stories are usually for children. both you and satan find the gesture quite sweet.

he’ll hold you close as he reads a couple chapters from the book, his calming voice soothes the both of you to sleep. on nights where you read, he enjoys hearing you read the contents on the pages and you both doze off.

in the short amount of time you two are reading, satan forgets about everything. his wrath, himself, his brothers: everything. all that matters is you and the soothing sound of your voice as you lull him to sleep with your words.

sometimes before you truly fall asleep, you swear you hear satan’s voice say things about his love for you rather that the book you both were reading.

nighttime self care with asmo!

—even before asmodeus began to date you, he took care of his skin and body. now that he has you, he can take care if yours as well.

bubble bathes, face masks, massages, anything. everything he can do to ensure proper care for your body and maximum comfort while asleep he will do. you feel spoiled as he takes care of you but he feels as if he could be doing more!

after your and his nightly routines are done, you’ll find yourself lulled to sleep by asmodeus. he’ll hold you close and whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you both drift to sleep after a night of lovely self care.

brushing your teeth with beelzebub!

--as weird as it seems, this simple act of hygiene is something you and beel share every night. since beel eats a lot, he has to brush his teeth really well.

right after beel eats before bed, he brushes his teeth and heads to bed for the night. now that he's with you, he'll eat then wait for you to brush his teeth. sometimes, beel might even brush your teeth for you! as you two settle in to bed after brushing your teeth, beel kisses you with his minty fresh breath as a goodnight.

embracing each other with belphegor!

--nothing helps with falling asleep more than sleep itself. or at least that's what belphegor says. belphie happens to make people around him sleepy. so holding you before bed happens to make you sleepy if you already aren't.

he's still shocked that you'd let him hold you after everything that's happened in the past, but he's not complaining. now that he gets to hold you, he'll fully embrace his sin and drag you down along with him. waves of tiredness overcome you quite quickly as belphegor drags you into the ocean of sleep as you're held tightly in his embrace.

[yuna542]

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 10<-

Part 11

Pairing: Jeongin x reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: 18+, Smut, under 18 DNI!Suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, unprotected sex (just don‘t!), bloody nose

Word Count: 5.4k

Note: Sooo. What do you think of this part? Maybe you noticed where I got my inspiration from (M/V. Making off?) Love our baby bread who is not so baby anymore… For real have you seen the 5-Star Trailer? Uffhhgg watched it like 10000000 times

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

When you took the note off your door in the morning, you wanted to break down and cry on the spot.

But you didn't have time for that. So you stuffed the paper into your pocket and headed off to work.

Only when you got to your office you dared to take the paper out again, and you had to read it at least three times before you understood the words on the yellow background. Your hands shook and despair gripped you as soon as the word 'eviction notice' even came into the corner of your eye.

Although you tried hard to remain calm, you could feel the frantic typing as you entered the number in your phone that was at the bottom of the letter.

After endless beeping, the administration of the building complex you were currently living in finally answered. You had gotten the apartment out of luck via relationships and it was a miracle that it was affordable despite the ideal location for you.

And now you were supposed to move out within a week because the building was going to be demolished.

After several questions, the annoyed administrative worker could only confirm to you what was already on the note anyway. You had to leave your apartment by the end of the week.

With the current rent prices it was impossible to find a halfway affordable apartment within a week and the panic of being homeless until the end of the week spread more and more inside you.

But when there was a knock on your door, you furtively wiped the tears from the corners of your eyes and put on a carefree smile as soon as Chan poked his head into the room:

"Morning, babe. We're about to take off."

You had completely forgotten about that with all the stress. Quickly, you nodded:

"I'll be right there!"

Today was the teaser shoot for the music video.

You had no choice but to put on your professional mask and start working.

As you got into the car with Chan, where the guys were already waiting, you were showered with energetic vibes. They were all looking forward to the first shoot and the energy soon transferred to you as well.

Even though you couldn't completely banish the dark thoughts from your mind, you had to focus on your work when you arrived.

The film crew was getting everything ready while the guys were sent to makeup to change and get ready.

The video would be set in a sports hall and the guys would be playing basketball. There would be some sporty and handsome shots that would surely please the fans.

Han was the first to notice that something was wrong with you.

"You look tired... Are you okay?", he asked as everyone just waited for Chan and Hyunjin's hairstyles to be done.

"Yes all good, Ji. Don't worry about it", you said quickly. Too quickly and that's when the Director began to speak.

He gave the guys instructions on how they would first shoot individually or as couples and then mimic a little basketball game as a team.

You retreated to the bleachers with the film crew and when you had a few free minutes, you looked for possible apartments, but that brought you much closer to a breakdown. You couldn't afford any of them and most of them were way too far away. You would need several hours to get to work and that would not be possible with the strict schedules.

When out of nowhere you felt a hand on your leg, you flinched violently and almost threw your phone off the stand. Jeongin looked at you with wide eyes and raised his hands placatingly.

"Take it easy! It's just me."

Behind him, Felix followed, and they both looked like they could see right into your head.

"Are you guys finished yet?", you asked, trying a half-cheerful smile.

They took you in the middle and Felix didn't hesitate to pull you into his arm.

"We just have to do the group shots. Hyunjin and Changbin are on it right now."

You put your temple against his with a sigh and breathed in his sunny scent.

They all looked really really good with the school uniforms. So the video should have a nostalgic vibe and even you felt transported back to your school days when you saw the typical uniforms. But in the past, the guys at your school had never been as attractive as the ones who were now chasing the ball in the hall.

"Do you want to talk?", he asked, and he stroked your arm reassuringly.

With a quick glance at Jeongin, who gave you a sweet smile, you sighed. So Jeongin had pulled out the secret weapon to elicit the reason for your worries.

You couldn't lie to Felix. He was too kind and bright. It was impossible to hide your feelings from him.

"The building complex I live in is going to be torn down. I have until the end of the week to get out of my apartment“, you explained quietly.

But no one heard you anyway. The song played on and off while the cameramen were busy getting good shots of Hyunjin and Changbin with the basketball.

"This sucks", I.N commented and you had to laugh bitterly.

"I’m sure we‘ll find a solution“, Felix tried to cheer you up, but you could just shake your head.

"I can't afford most of the apartments and it's impossible to find something in that short time."

The guys gave each other meaningful looks, but before Felix could answer, he was called by the director. It was time for the whole group to take group shots.

It was too funny to watch the boys trying to recreate a real game. Han was so afraid of the ball that he kept running around the others, Changbin and Chan tried to shoot at the baskets, while Lee Know and Hyunjin chased each other around the court, screaming at each other.

It took forever for them to get a few scenes halfway done, but they had so much fun doing it that they infected everyone on the staff with their good humor.

You raised your eyes as Hyunjin came up to you with his camera between scenes filming the making off.

"How do you like our godlike basketball skills?", he asked, and Han latched onto his shoulder.

You raised a thumb at the camera and said:

"You guys definitely play like professionals!"

"Why don't I believe you?", laughed Hyunjin, zooming in on Han, who posed with his legs wide for the camera:

"I'm the best player, though."

"Yeah because the rest of us are extremely bad!", Hyunjin shot back and then all you saw behind him was the basketball flying and slamming hard against Jeongin's face.

Hyunjin screamed out, who happened to have the camera right on it, and Chan was already running to the youngest, who was holding his face with both hands and wincing with pain.

Before you got past the stands, the director and the cameramen were already with him and handed him a cloth, which he pressed firmly against his nose.

But it was already too late. Blood ran down his mouth and chin and dripped onto his blue jacket.

"Who threw the ball?", asked Chan sharply, looking at stunned faces. Hyunjin had lowered the camera and Changbin slowly approached.

"That was me", Lee Know came forward, sounding concerned.

He pushed past the Director who was talking at Jeongin, but gradually the white cloth ran out.

"Sorry, Innie... Shit, I didn't mean to throw so hard."

Jeongin squinted his eyes and waved it off with one hand.

"It's okay... Never mind."

You took out more wipes from your bag and handed them to him so he could press them further against his nose.

"Stuff it up your nose until it stops!", said Chan, looking like a father tending to his small child who had fallen off the swing.

Gently, you grabbed him by the arm and said through the commotion around you:

"Come on, Innie! I'll help you clean this up."

Chan nodded curtly at you and when you saw the stressed expression on his face, you wanted to take all the heavy weight off his shoulders, that he carried around all the time.

You sat down together on one of the higher benches of the stands so that the others could continue working undisturbed. You sat down opposite him, both one leg to the left and one leg to the right of the bench.

He still had his head back and tissues stuck up his nose.

"Does it hurt a lot?", you asked cautiously, glancing down the stairs where one member of the team was already joining you.

He shook his head and his voice sounded nasal, due to the blockage in his nose:

"No. It's not that bad."

He was always like that. Just not a burden to anyone and always functioning at full speed.

The director's assistant had reached you by now and handed Jeongin more cloths and a cold pack.

"Should we call a doctor to take a look at the nosebleed?"

You were about to answer in the affirmative, but Jeongin beat you to it.

"No! There's no need for that. It's already stopped bleeding."

Pressing your lips together, you looked at him questioning, but he continued to refuse.

"Maybe the nose is broken", the assistant said, to which Jeongin again shook his head vehemently.

"Y/N can palpate me, but there's nothing broken. I can keep going!"

While the assistant tried to continue talking at him, you moved closer to Jeongin.

"May I?", you asked, and he nodded.

Then you gently ran your fingers over the bridge of his nose. As you did so, his face hovered so close to yours that you inevitably saw his gaze move to your lips and how he suddenly tensed up.

Blood still stained his chin and mouth and a few drops had also landed on his jacket.

Only because of the assistant who was present were you able to tear yourself away from his engaging eyes. Like a fox, he regarded you attentively and with so much intelligence in his expression that you trembled.

"The nose isn't broken. It all feels normal", you said quickly, pulling away before the assistant noticed that crackling energy between you.

By then, there was a call for him as well, and he finally gave up.

"I'll take care of Jeongin!", you assured him, and with that he finally gave in and disappeared.

"Thank you! Really", Jeongin said, clearly relaxing. He grabbed one of your hands and unobtrusively pulled you closer again by it.

"Let me clean your face!", you said, smiling softly and taking out a couple of makeup wipes from your bag that you always carried in case you needed it. He nodded and you began to wipe the blood from his skin with concentration and careful hand movements.

While doing so, you couldn't help but inhale his cologne. He smelled like a heady mix of fresh florals, woody lime and the first rain on a sunny day.

His charisma was more than attractive and when he was that close to you, you became restless. There was something unpredictable about him, behind the politeness, the funny weirdo and the loving nature.

It was the self-confidence that lay dormant in him that regularly blew your mind. Even though he was just a few months older than you.

Bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder, you tried not to hurt him.

"Y/N?", you heard his soft voice ask, and you felt his heartbeat quicken under your hand.

"Huh?", you hummed busy and that's when you heard Hyunjin standing next to you again, holding the camera on you.

"Since Lee Know tried to kill our Maknae. How are you I.N?"

You looked at the camera and threw away the bloody cloths.

Jeongin raised a thumb to the camera and said:

"It's all good. It's really not as bad as it looks. And Minho's throw was also too bad to really do any damage."

"Should I try it again? Maybe next time you faint", shouted Minho then, and you smirked as you felt Jeongin's knee pressed against yours.

Hyunjin laughed and Minho looked fierce but you both could see the concern in their eyes despite everything. They were family, after all and cared for each other no matter what.

Then Hyunjin was distracted by Felix who was trying to shoot baskets with Chan and went to join them. Jeongin took the scraps of cloth out of his nose and threw it all in the trash by the stairs.

"You should cool that so it doesn't swell any more", you said, already activating the cold pack by bending it.

"Does it look that bad?", he now asked again without the nasal tone.

You shook your head quickly. Once the blood was gone, the minimal swelling on the bridge of his nose didn't seem so bad either.

"No. But we don't know what it will look like tomorrow."

He nodded and closed his eyes as you held the cold pack to the bridge of his nose. A soft hiss escaped him as the cold eased the throbbing in his head, enjoying your gentle touch.

For a while, you just sat there together, enjoying each other's presence. Jeongin could have endured for hours the way your fingers stroked his face and dabbed his nose with the cold pack.

"Does it feel good?", you asked after a while, and that's when he opened his eyes again.

"You have no idea", he murmured, relaxed, and when your eyes met, you noticed the closeness between you.

His thighs were pressed tightly against yours from the outside and you could feel his breathing on your cheek as your face was only a hand's width away from his.

An embarrassed smile flitted across your lips and immediately his eyes were fixed on it. He could just look at you and your knees went weak.

You put your other hand to his cheek to hold his face tightly because you just wanted to touch him while you continued to cool his nose. Slowly he lifted his gaze and your eyes locked together. You got all excited as he licked his lower lip and all the sounds of the shoot faded into the background.

Before you could stop him, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on your mouth. It only lasted a few seconds, yet your heart jumped out of your chest and you stared wide-eyed at him before looking around to see if anyone had watched you.

He too seemed surprised himself and couldn't quite believe he had actually done that without thinking. Looking down at the crew, you breathed a little sigh of relief when you saw that everyone was busy taking videos of Changbin.

Chan and Felix were listening intently to the director and Seungmin's hair was being fixed.

Only Hyunjin looked in your direction and slowly lowered the camera.

He tried not to let notice, but gave you a warning look.

This was too much and too public.

It was just too dangerous and you knew it. It had just happened and you hoped nobody saw it.

"Sorry", he whispered, seeming a bit overwhelmed.

You had to swallow hard and nodded quickly without looking at him.

"You should take off that jacket. Maybe we can get the blood stains out by the sink", you said, hoping that if you just didn't address it, it never would have happened. Together you walked down the bleachers and asked a couple of women from the staff where the nearest sink was. They sent you straight to the hallway and there you found a sink on the wall behind the next corner.

Jeongin slipped out of his jacket and watched you try to wash out the dark stains with water. But it was quite hopeless. The blood had already sunk too deep into the fabric.

"I think that's it for the uniform", Jeongin said, taking the jacket from you to hang it over the edge of the sink.

Just in the white shirt and tie made him look like the main character in a K-drama. His hair fell into his forehead and he shoved his hands into his pants pockets as he looked at you uncertainly. All this time he'd been strangely silent and you couldn't look at him any longer without staring. He looked outrageously handsome with his sleeves rolled up under which the veins on his forearms stood out.

"I'm really sorry about earlier", he finally broke the silence, and when you did look him in the eye now, you realized he was worried about you.

"I didn't mean to attack you like that. You took such care of me and you look so beautiful, I just couldn't control myself and I..."

You had to interrupt him, not being able to stand the way he was torturing himself.

"Innie!"

He looked at you questioningly and stepped from one foot to the other.

"I didn't think it was bad."

"You didn't?", he asked uncertainly, and you immediately wanted to kiss him to exorcise all the self-doubt. He stepped closer until your hands were against his chest and he had to look down at you.

"No. I thought it was really nice, and if there hadn't been so many people there, I would have liked to kiss you too."

A relieved laugh escaped him and he took his hands out of his pockets to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

"So you want me to kiss you?", he asked softly and you had to smile at his uncertainty. He wanted to make sure you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

"I want you to do so much more than just kiss me“, you replied with an ambiguous undertone and immediately his cheeks turned rosy and he stroked his fingers up your neck to your chin, where he lifted it slightly and placed his lips gently but intensely on yours.

Slowly you opened your lips and returned the kiss. As if in slow motion, he pulled you to his chest and deepened the kiss. He tasted honey-sweet and touched you with so much passion that you melted right against his chest. With your eyes closed, you felt his tongue on your bottom lip before he took it between his teeth and gently pulled on it. Burying your hands in his hair, you pulled him closer so he could slide his tongue into your mouth and set off fireworks in your head.

The kiss lasted an eternity and you never wanted to stop your tongues dancing together.

His fingers stroked down your back and he kissed you so passionately that your body automatically curved into his. His hands went under your skirt, grabbed your ass and pulled you closer to him until your upper body was pressed tightly against his.

You slid your hands under his shirt and stroked his firm stomach, that's when he broke the kiss to gasp into your mouth:

"I'm already dying to take you right now. Don't tempt me, sweetheart."

"I want you... right now", you gasped, and the sizzle between you was about to explode.

"Everyone else is in the other room", he whispered in your ear and kissed your neck.

You knew that, but you also knew how wet you were by now, just at the thought of feeling him inside you.

You took his hand and slid it between your legs. With wide eyes he looked at you, but immediately stroked your covered cunt with two fingers, feeling how soaked your panties already were.

"God... You're so wet", he gasped and began to move his fingers lightly against your core. Your parted lips and your fingers digging into his chest in the process made him completely lose his mind.

He instantly got hard and you felt his cock against your lower abdomen.

"Do you like it when I touch you like that?", he asked, pushing your panties aside to rub your clit directly, eliciting a gasp from you.

"Yes. But I want all of you!“, you whispered, while stroking his bulge over his pants and grinding your hips against his fingers.

Because of the sounds of the shoot behind the wall right next to you, you realised that someone just had to come around the corner to catch you.

"Fuck it…“, he suddenly muttered then and took your hand tightly in his. As he pulled you down the long hallway, you glanced over your shoulder in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"We're leaving. You have no idea how many naughty fantasies I had about you..."

You giggled and together you ran to the exit, like little kids who had done something wrong and tried to get away with it. You felt transported back to your school days, where you secretly made out with your crush and it evoked the most exciting feeling.

In the garage, he led you to the big car.

"Do you have the key?", you asked in wonder, and when he just opened the door, you glared at him.

"We usually leave the car open. Someone always forgets something. I know it‘s irresponsible but practical.“

He opened the sliding door and let you climb in until he too came in and pulled the door shut behind you.

"This is still pretty public", he mused aloud, but you were already shoving him into the back seat, where he had been sitting between Hyunjin and Han while you had droven here, and climbing onto his lap.

Immediately he pulled you into a kiss again. Only this time he was more impetuous and you could now feel his boner clearly pressed against your cunt. Quickly you took his tie and literally ripped open his shirt to touch each of his abs one by one.

"Take off your panties! Now!", he demanded and he didn't have to tell you twice. Hastily you slipped out of your thong and at the same time Jeongin pulled down his pants and underpants.

"I want you to ride my cock. I need your pussy so bad, jagi!“

He was impatient and directly his hard length jumped out.

"Since when did you start becoming so naughty, maknae ?" you asked teasingly, climbing back onto his lap.

"Since I tasted you."

He ran both hands under your shirt and pulled it over your head. Your bra popped out and immediately he kneaded your breasts and spread kisses on them.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a grin as you positioned yourself above him and suddenly put his hand around your neck.

With the other, he pressed you down on his length and it felt like he was splitting you into two parts. With the tight grip around your neck, you felt him fill you completely and you couldn't help but moan out loud.

"Fuck... You're gonna crush me", he growled, continuing to guide your hips until he was completely engulfed in you. You were breathing heavily as you tried to adjust to his size and he unclasped your bra and tossed it somewhere to the front of the car.

"Move!", he said and you began to roll your hips against his. His head dropped to his neck and he moaned loudly as you took him as deep as you could. Your fingernails dug into his chest as you were able to use his length the way you wanted and after a few seconds you rode him with faster and faster movements.

He held you by the hips and every gasp and moan you could elicit from him spurred you on even more. While he helped you rock back and forth on his cock, your clit was swollen and aching, begging for more. It didn't take long for your climax to grab you and you came on his dick while moaning his name. But you did not stop. You wanted to satisfy him and you felt him already twitching inside you as you tightened around him.

"God. I'm gonna cum soon, if you continue to take my cock so fucking good", he moaned and kissed your neck and even bit into it lightly, making you gasp his name.

"Come inside me! Fill me up, Innie! Please!"

Your words brought him over the edge and you felt him come and empty deep inside you with a choked gasp. You slowed down and sunk down on his cock.

"Should we stop?", you asked, breathing heavily, while he buried his face in the crook of your neck. In reply buckled his hips into you and began to push you up and down by your hips on his still hard dick.

Your clit was ridiculously sensitive from the first orgasm and you were not sure if you could handle a second one right now.

"Come around my cock again, sweetheart! Then I'm going to fuck you, like you deserve it."

His words turned you on again and you started bouncing on his throbbing cock again. You rolled your hips against his and you could tell Jeongin was holding back from bucking up into you, giving into his greedy desires.

"Shit, you're still so tight", he moaned, staring up at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on not cumming again. You knew that anyone could hear you, even through the doors of the bus, but you were just too drunk on his dick that you could care right now.

Your hands were tightly pressed to his chest, while you worked yourself to your next orgasm, which was already making your whole body tingle.

He didn't meet your gaze, instead, he watched the way his cock disappeared into your stretched hole, admiring the way your juices looked on his member.

"I love hearing you moan like this, angel", he said and guided your hips as you began to lose control due to the high that gripped you for the second time, flooding your entire body with heat. He wasted no time and while you were still working out your orgasm, he started thrusting into your cunt.

"You feel even better than the hyungs had described."

You probably would have blushed at the fact that the boys were talking about you like that, but the youngest of them was penetrating your sore pussy too much for that.

"Innie, oh god... please", you moaned and his gaze finally met yours.

"You like that? Being fucked like this?"

You might've been on top, but you were completely at his mercy by now. You were under his spell since the day you met him, hypnotized by him and his charming smile. He was tantalising you with his dark obsidian eyes. You lived for the lust-driven look in his face and his sweet groans. You bent down and cupped his face, hungrily kissing him. You kissed frantic and heated, desperate to taste each other. He licked his lips as he watched your breasts bounce with every thrust of his hips.

The filthy squelching sounds of him fucking his cum back into you filled the car and he removed his hands from your hips to reach up to cup your breasts, taking one in each hand, squeezing them.

You completely lost the sense of time, but couldn't stop urging each other to the next high. At any moment the shooting could be over and they could come back to the car.

His cock prodded against your cervix. You wondered who taught the boys how to fuck like this. Each of them fucked you in their own way and all of them were gods in this area.

Especially now you were totally addicted to the way Jeongin fucked you.

But finally you were overwhelmed by an orgasm that made you tremble. Your insides seemed to boil and as you tightened around his dick, he also came with a painful grip on your breasts.

Overwhelmed, you worked your highs out for as long as you could before you sank against his chest, breathing heavily. He ran his hand through your hair and pressed a sweet kiss to your temple.

"Was that good?"

You laughed lightly, with your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, still dazed stroking his neck.

"That was amazing, Innie."

He breathed a sigh of relief and stroked your back until your breathing calmed down.

"Move in with us!"

"What?"

You looked at him questioningly, and he knew he didn't have the right or the power to decide that, but he wanted to. You were worth it.

"We have a spare room in the new apartment. Right now it's just for storage, but you could have it."

"JYP wouldn't allow that."

"Why not? Before it takes you hours to get to work because your apartment is far away, it would be a solution. Besides, it would make our job extremely easier."

You couldn't say anything more in response, as the two of you heard muffled voices from outside, peering through the darkened windows.

"Shit! They're coming back!"

Quickly you jumped off his lap and slipped into your underpants and skirt. You felt the mixture of your juices and his cum making a mess in your panties, but you had no choice. You couldn't find your bra, and yet you saw that Chan and Seungmin had almost reached the bus.

Jeongin had already pulled his pants back up and was buttoning his shirt.

There was no more time, so you put on your shirt without a bra and just dropped into the seat next to Jeongin when the sliding door opened.

Chan poked his head in first and when he spotted you, he turned to the others.

"They're here! I told you they went ahead."

One by one, everyone got in and sat down. The driver wasn't here yet, so they looked at you curiously. Jeongin's hair was a mess and his cheeks were flushed. You probably didn't look any better.

"Where were you guys?", asked Lee Know, turning around in his seat to face you.

"Y/N was helping me with that bloody nose you gave me!", he said and Lee Know raised his hands defensively.

"Hey I already apologized!"

"We tried to save the jacket, but it was for nothing", you tried to explain your absence, but it was obvious that no one believed you.

Han had his hands clasped under his chin and was looking at you with a knowing grin, and it would only be seconds before he would say something dumb.

"You certainly had to comfort him", Changbin said then with a laugh, and Jeongin immediately stared at his shoes in embarrassment.

Then Seungmin suddenly bent down and pulled something out from under his seat. Startled, you stared at your red lace bra in his hand, which he now held up.

"Did any of you lose this? Because it's not mine."

"I usually wear black lace underwear", Chan replied, clearly enjoying the whole thing. Quickly, you jumped up and snatched your bra from Seungmin's hands.

Just in time, as the driver boarded and announced the start.

With your head burning, you stuffed the bra into your pocket, feeling the entertained looks of the others on Jeongin and you. On the way back, they continued to tease you for quite a while, but that's when Jeongin started:

"What if Y/N moves in with us?"

Immediately there was confused silence. So you explained your situation to them and that's when Chan said:

"We could ask. Maybe that's really a good idea."

"Would you really want to live with us?", Felix asked over the others and now they all looked at you attentively.

Briefly you looked down at your hands and then answered:

"I think so. Yes. It would make my job a lot easier if I didn't always have to go back and forth between the dorm, work, and my apartment. Plus, I think it could be fun."

"Don't get too excited. Living with 3Racha is like living with three wild animals", Hyunjin said, making you smile and took a punch in the side from Changbin.

Back at JYP Entertainment, you were up to your neck in work, but the idea of living with Stray Kids solidified in your thoughts and you kind of liked the idea.

->Part 12

——————————————————————-

© Yuna542 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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[fatuismooches]

Good day! Life is the definition of stress for me lately, so i turn to Dottie x Fragile!Reader for comfort once more. I hereby present you: bathtime!

Just before i begin - NO NSFW! Only wholesomeness! Horny will automatically have their names added to test subjects volunteers list!

Reader's mysterious sickness got worse over time. Fragile body forced them staying in bed and prevented them from completing even the simplest mundane activities, such as eating or showering. But it's no fun staying in sweaty bed, is it? So, while segments are busy changing sheets, Zandik brings his beloved to bathroom.

Let's address the obvious - reader would get extra shy. It's not the first time Zandik sees them naked, taking all physical health exams into consideration. However, man is more than willing to look away and wait - he will avoid looking at the Reader if that's what they want.

Bath time feels like luxurious spa complex. Scented bath bombs? Check. Bath bubbles? Check. Soothing music playing in the background? Check. Shoulders massage? Check. Hair-washing? Check.

Speaking of the latter, Zandik's long, slim fingers rubbing shampoo into reader's hair brings them euphoria. He's so gentle with every movement, careful not to get any bubbles into his dear's eyes. Zandik also uses shampoo of his own making (perks of being the all-knowing scientist!). If Reader's hair was greasy and messy before, once the bathtime is over, you bet their locks are smooth to the touch and extra soft.

Man would make sure the Reader has been fully dried off. He'll also personally dry their hair with hair dryer (...does Teyvat have hair dryers? Idk. Assume it's something similar then.), so they don't catch cold that could further worsed their condition! Once the spa procedures are done, Zandik will have reader dressed in fresh pyjamas and wrapped in a bathrobe, cuddled in his arms - he will then carry them bride-style back to bedroom where a bed with fresh sheets and a segment with a mug of hot chocolate was waiting for them.

Cuddles and kisses afterwards are a major part of whole bathtime procedure! Must not be skipped!

BATH TIME WITH DOTTORE. <3 Your illness frequently rendered you unable to do even the simplest of activities, most importantly the basics of living. Or perhaps your mental state was not the best and you could not bring yourself or find the energy to take care of yourself. But at least you have your lovers with you to do that when you can't yourself.

No matter how many times your husband sees you nude you still get a bit anxious about it, you know he loves you. But you still can't help but look in the mirror and wonder if he notices even more imperfections than you, after all, his eyes are very observant. However every time, he patiently holds and reassures you in his own Dottore-like very, despite how many times you two have done this same routine, he doesn't seem annoyed. You're thankful.

Dottore had honestly never used or cared for such extraneous products in the bath, he never saw the point of them. He always got in and out of the shower, he never exactly relaxed in it. It was only until you started using fancy stuff like that and forcing him into it that he started to warm up to the idea of bath time also being relaxing time (something both of you really need.) And he can easily see that this is something you need right now. However, he is clueless by himself so he probably found himself at the mercy of the Damslette and Regrator much to his dismay... but, it's for you, so he can endure...

Dottore's hands are very skilled, certain areas of his work require great control over them to avoid any mistakes, so it's not surprising in itself for them to be gentle and delicate. However, what is surprising is for that gentleness to be used on another person. It wasn't easy for him at first either, he loves you but being gentle doesn't come easily or naturally for him. But he still does try and it seems that eventually, you get so lost in the feeling of his fingers massaging your scalp that you don't notice if he messes up. I imagine you'd try to return the favor too if you have the strength. Unfortunately, it gets into his eyes but he has zero reaction to it for your sake.

After the bath, you would feel so warm and fuzzy from how good it felt, but most importantly you felt that Zandik cared, which was always very important for you. Sure, he wasn't the world's most perfect lover, but you didn't care about that. All that mattered was that he tried, and that he loved you. (He invented Teyvat's first and only hair dryer. End of story.) You'd nearly fall asleep as he dries your hair, barely hanging on by the time he dresses you in something warm. But you can't fall asleep now! You have to stay awake and treasure this moment with him! It's not often opportunities like this arise with your Zandik! And you have to be awake to feel all the kisses you'll get!

(His cup of hot chocolate definitely has a little too much marshmallows in it...)

[mickittotheman]

hello ☺️ number 19 for the prompt game please

19. playing with their hands when nervous

Ian likes to fidget. 

The stupid fucker can’t keep still at the best of times, but once he’s hyped up he’s even more insufferable than usual.

It’s one thing when he’s all happy and excited and shit. He’ll tangle and untangle the strings of his jackets and hoodies and shoelaces. He’ll wave his hands around in big gestures. He’ll fiddle with whatever he can get his fucking hands on, including Mickey’s knives, on the rare occasion Mickey leaves them in his reach. He’ll drum out upbeat little tunes with his fingers on countertops and tabletops, on rumpled sheets and dusty concrete floors, on his own skin or on Mickey’s.

It’s different when he’s anxious. He does a lot of the same shit, but like, the evil version. His tapping fingers lack their usual rhythm, turn erratic and loud instead. He’ll be less careful with whatever he’s fiddling with. He’s nicked himself on Mickey’s knives one time too many. He’ll tie knots so tight he can’t get them undone, which only serves to pique his frustration even more. He’ll wrap the strings around his fingers till his skin goes white and red and raw. 

All that shit is annoying, but whatever. Ian puts up with Mickey’s annoyingass habits all the time. Puts up with far fucking worse. Mickey can deal.

This, though, this is where Mickey draws the line.

“Will you fucking stop it?”

“Huh?” Ian glances at Mickey, wide eyed, startled. They're in the dugouts, sprawled out with their backs propped up against the low wall, killing time until they’re ready for round two. Or round three, technically speaking. Whatever.

Mickey reaches out to slap Ian’s hand away from his mouth. “Stop gnawing on your fucking fingers, you freak.”

Ian flushes a bit. Lowers both hands down to his lap. Grips them tight, like he’s trying to keep them in place. “Sorry. Just kinda on edge today.”

“No shit,” Mickey huffs. There’s some shit going on with Ian’s family. There’s always some shit going on with Ian’s family, though, so it’s not that big a deal. Plus, Ian has midterms and ROTC and goddamn Linda breathing down his neck.

Not that Mickey gives a shit.

He sniffs. Swipes at his nose. Peeks over at Ian again. Ian’s keeping his paws outta his mouth, but he’s picking at his fingers instead. There’s already blood welling up on at least two of his nail beds. “Jesus fucking christ,” Mickey mutters, rolling his eyes. He shoves his own hand against Ian’s and leaves it. “There.”

“Uh.” Ian blinks at their hands. Blinks at Mickey. 

Mickey rolls his eyes again. “You wanna fuck up a hand so bad, use mine. I ain’t letting your fingers up my ass if you’ve got open fucking wounds.”

Ian blinks again.

Mickey looks away. Uses his other hand to fumble for his smokes.

Ian takes his hand carefully. Cautiously. He trails his fingertips over Mickey’s skin softly. Mickey shudders. His fingers twitch. He doesn't pull away.

By the time he’s done with his cigarette, Ian’s lost any inhibitions about playing with Mickey’s hand. He’s rubbing at it and squinting at it and gawking at it like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever held. Inspecting every winkle, every scar, every pale blue vein. Tugging and twisting and bending Mickey’s fingers. Digging his thumb into the meaty parts of his palm, tracing the lines there with his index finger. “How about you stop squeezing my hand and start squeezing something else instead, huh?”

Ian eagerly complies, earlier nerves miraculously gone.

Mickey hadn’t realized at the time what a huge fucking can of worms he’d opened that night. Hadn’t realized that Ian would seize every opportunity going forward to grab at his hands and use them as his own personal fucking stress ball. His hands quickly become Ian’s favorite thing to fidget with, surpassing strings and knives and everything fucking else.

Years and years and years down the line, Mickey’s hands get a new accessory for Ian to fiddle with: a ring to rub at and spin and press soft, sappy kisses to.

Whatever. Mickey can deal.