#why do most tubs suck

[blueicequeen19]

Eight

Warnings: dark, mean Rafe, Non-Con, oral, face fucking, public-ish setting, blackmail, sex for money

You stop at the edge of the in ground hot tub, crossing your arms when you see the way he's eyeing you like a prize. You hate that smug smirk and how good he looks no matter what. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. No one realized how deadly he really was beneath the nice guy act.

"What do you want, Rafe?" You ask, diverting your eyes when he stands in all his naked glory. Every inch of your body heats uncontrollably. Why was he naked in a hot tub at a party?

"Now, now, that's not a good tone to have. You should be happy you’re here." You level him with a glare as he comes to stand at the side of the hot tub closest to you, looking up under his lashes.

"I thought I wasn't allowed at your parties."

"You're not but I'm bored." Rafe shrugs a shoulder.

"You summoned me out of bed because you're bored?"

"Get used to it, darling. You're mine for a month, remember?" How could you forget? You kept waiting for the moment that he demands you spread your legs for him. So far it had just been running errands, answering his work phone, or cleaning up after him. But he’d made it clear in the beginning that he could have whatever he wanted from you.

"Let's play a game. Pick a number."

"I don't want to play."

"Pick a number, one through ten. I promise you'll love it." You bite your lip, hating yourself for the mess you'd got yourself into.

"Eight."

"Like Figure Eight, your new home."

"Rafe--."

"Okay, so if you can endure me for eight minutes, I'll let you leave, no questions asked."

"Endure you?"

"If you lose, then you have to take care of me too." You swallow the lump in your throat, the look in his eyes telling you this wasn't a game you wanted to play.

"Or you can refuse and find another way to pay your tuition." Rafe smiled, knowing he'd won as he sat back down on the opposite side of the tub. Your legs shook as you looked for a way out but once again, Rafe had you cornered.

"Fine." You bit out, looking around to make sure no one else was outside from the party.

"Strip." There was no use arguing so you quickly slipped off your sleep shirt and shorts, leaving you in just your panties as you quickly crossed your arms to conceal your breasts.

"Get in." Rafe's breathing became labored as you slowly descended into the hot water. You couldn't believe the way he was looking at you. Like you were the most desirable thing he'd ever seen. It was nearly impossible to keep from looking under the water to see how much you affected him. Rafe took your hand, guiding you to plant your feet on either side of his hips on the seat, his head eye level with your panties.

"What are you going to do?" You whimpered, watching as he kept his eyes trained on you while he brushed his nose against your panties.

"Savor this." His nose nudged your clit and your knees nearly gave out. Two firm hands found the back of your thighs, holding you in place as he continued to tease with his nose.

"Rafe, please. This is humiliating." What if someone came outside and saw?

"So? I can feel how wet you are for me." Rafe breathed, jutting out his tongue and flicking it against your clit. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you bit back a moan, a wicked look in his eyes as he continued his torture.

"Eight minutes." Rafe said, setting a timer on his phone then tugging your panties aside with one hand while his free hand tightened on the back of your thigh. How could you endure eight minutes of this? You were already shaking.

You gasped when his hot, wet tongue swiped up your slit, circling your clit a few times before sucking it into his mouth. Again and again. Rafe set a perfect rhythm. The pleasure was unlike anything you'd ever felt. Your hands found his hair as you fought to remain standing. Rafe groaned like you were the best thing he'd ever tasted, the vibrations going straight to your core.

"Please Rafe, this isn't fair." You whined as he applied more pressure, his hands squeezing your ass to hold you in place. A sound like a growl and a groan left him before he plunged his tongue inside you, fucking you like he would with his..

You came with a cry, your entire body nearly dropping into the water if not for his hold on you. There was a sudden feeling of being weightless then your back was on his towel on the deck, his mouth attached to your pussy again.

"Rafe, please." You cried, squeezing his head with your thighs just as the timer went off on his phone. Rafe pried your legs back open and your body bowed off the towel as another release hit you. Rafe sucked and slurped the tiny nub until it was too much. Until the pain overruled the pleasure and you were trying to roll away.

Finally, Rafe released you, his lower half still in the hot tub as he wiped his mouth. Even his nose glistened with your release. Your entire body shook as you watched each other. You'd never felt anything so powerful. His cock flexed between his legs, drawing your attention to the angry looking member.

"My turn." Rafe pulled himself up on the side of the tub, jerking you into a sitting position before you could grasp what he meant. His fingers knotted in your hair then he was forcing your head down. You opened your mouth, gagging as soon as he hit the back of your throat. Tears sprung in your eyes as you tried to get your bearings but his cock was impressively long.

"Suck." Rafe demanded, his own body trembling as you pulled your teeth back and wrapped your lips around him. His hips jerked up with each push and pull of your head, each time making you gag. Despite hating the circumstances of the events, you wanted him to enjoy it. There was nothing worse than rumors about being a terrible lover but the angle was awkward.

"I'm cumming." Already!? A throaty groan filled the air as he held your head down, spilling down your throat so you had no choice but to swallow all of it. When your tongue met his shaft, he shuddered as he emptied every drop. You swallowed repeatedly, your throat tightening around his shaft until he was tugging you free by the hair.

"Fuckkkkk." Rafe dropped down on the towel next to you, his cock glistening and still standing to full attention. You reached for your shirt but Rafe snagged it, tossing it away before pulling you onto his lap as he sat upright.

"Rafe." You breathed, your throat sore and your head pounding from the lack of air. His cock pressed against your panties and your clit throbbed harder than ever. The night air was cool compared to the hot tub, making your pebbled nipples press hard against his chest.

"You're lucky I didn't cum all over your face like you did mine." The look in his eyes was crazed, thirsty for more.

"Please let me leave." You murmured, cheeks heating with humiliation. You could smell yourself on him. Rafe chuckled, reaching to turn the timer off on his phone before turning his attention back to you. His hands rocked you on his lap, making you grind against his hardening erection as your nipples rubbed against his chest.

"You lost, baby. You don't get to leave now. I still need to be taken care of."

[steddieas-shegoes]

He’s not sure why he even comes to these parties anymore. He used to sell at the frat houses, made his rounds until he was out of product, made more money than any minimum wage job he could find near campus.

But he hasn’t in a while. Months, at this point.

It’s just that every time he came to one of these idiotic showing of riches and popularity, the most beautiful man he’d ever seen was sitting in the corner of the kitchen watching with a faraway look in his eyes. Sometimes he stood in a group of people in the living room, but never contributed to the conversation. Once, Eddie saw him swinging his feet back and forth in the water of the hot tub on the back patio with three different couples making out inside it, completely zoned out.

Eddie needs to keep an eye on him. Hence, he attends the stupid parties.

And it’s stupid, to go through so much trouble for a guy he doesn’t even know, who probably doesn’t even notice him back. It’s stupid, but Eddie’s never claimed to be very bright.

Which is probably why he walks up to the guy when he’s about two seconds from punching Tommy Hagan, grabs his wrists, and tugs.

“The fuck are you?” He asks Eddie, reasonably confused and angry at being interrupted by a stranger.

Eddie could feel his pulse against his fingers, swore he could feel a spark of electricity flow between them.

“Eddie. Just leave him. Whatever he did isn’t worth it,” he said through clenched teeth.

His fingers tightened around Steve’s wrists as he considered trying to pick him up, throw him over his shoulder, and walk out of this party entirely.

“How the hell do you know?” Steve wasn’t trying to pull away.

Eddie didn’t let himself think about that too much.

“I just know nothing Hagan does is ever worth trouble for you. C’mon,” Eddie tugged on his wrists again, and this time, it seemed to catch the guy off guard.

“Didn’t know you were into freaks, Harrington,” Tommy said as they took a few steps away from him. “If you’re gonna be gay, you could at least have taste.”

Eddie froze.

The guy, Harrington, tried to pull his wrists loose, but Eddie didn’t let him.

He turned to Tommy, the guy who almost got him arrested for selling at his party only a few months ago, and smirked.

If he was gonna out someone to a stranger, Eddie had no problem doing the same right now.

“And you just sucked my dick because you wanted to add it to your résumé?” Eddie grinned at Tommy, who quickly looked around to make sure no one else heard.

“As if I would-“ he tried to say, but Harrington cut him off.

“You forget you say shit when you’re high. You told me about it already. I think your exact words were, ‘he had the best dick I’ve ever seen, Steve.’ Or am I mixing that up with another dick?” Steve pulled one arm loose from Eddie’s grip, brushed hair from his face, and let it relax at his side.

Eddie could let go now, he was sure if anyone would start something at this point it would be Tommy. But Steve wasn’t trying to pull his other wrist loose and Eddie liked the warmth of him in his hand.

“Whatever man, just go. You don’t even wanna be here,” Tommy turned and left before Steve could respond.

Eddie finally let go, but he didn’t like the immediate sense of loss that filled his chest.

“You always interrupt strangers before they fight?” Steve asked him, hands shoved into his pockets.

Eddie really looked at him, inspected him. He only ever saw him at these parties, so the lighting was shit, but he’d noticed the dark shadows under his eyes a while ago. He noticed that he held himself in a way that showed he was always ready for a fight. Steve’s hair had gone flat over the last month or so, not nearly as voluminous or shiny as it had been at the start of the year.

“Are you okay?” He asked instead of answering the question.

“I’m fine, dude.”

Eddie shook his head. “You don’t seem okay.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“Just seems like something is bothering you,” Eddie wouldn’t push more, not if Steve was actually gonna get mad. But something told him that nobody pushed Steve to talk enough.

Eddie had Wayne back home, and his friends in his band here, and a couple coworkers at the bar he worked at twice a week now that he could joke around with. Steve didn’t even seem to have the people he hung around with.

“Why does it matter to you if something is bothering me?”

That’s a fair question. Why does it matter to him?

“Maybe because I just wanted to help. That’s what people do, right?”

“Not for me, usually.”

Eddie stepped closer, barely leaving space between them. “Well, I am.”

Steve stared back at him, shoulders dropping and eyes losing that angry fire.

“Why?”

Eddie was an idiot sometimes, but he was able to read people pretty well. It’s what kept him safe for most of middle and high school, and made him friends in college.

He knew what it looked like to be lonely and depressed, and Steve had check marks next to both of those.

“You wanna get out of here?” Eddie asked, once again avoiding his question.

“And go where?”

“I’ll show you my favorite getting high spot.”

“I don’t really smoke with strangers,” Steve seemed nervous.

“You don’t have to smoke. I’m just gonna show you the place.”

He watched Steve think about it, noting the way his brows scrunched together, how he bit his bottom lip, how he looked at the ground instead of at Eddie.

“Fine. But if you murder me in the woods, my mom will have you hanged,” Steve finally said.

“Hanged? Do they even do that anymore?”

Steve giggled. “Probably not. But she’d find a way.”

“Well, I’ve got no interest in murdering you, big boy.”

The blush that filled Steve’s cheeks was stunning. A perfect pink dusting his skin, giving him a healthier glow than what he’d had for a while.

“What do you have interest in?”

Eddie could say any number of things to flirt, make his true intentions clear, maybe even go straight back to his single dorm instead of showing Steve anywhere.

But Eddie figured that’s all Steve was used to, or maybe he was always the one who had to put an effort into things.

Maybe he wasn’t used to getting treated like a human being.

“I’d like to get to know you. Parties like this aren’t really a good place to learn about someone’s favorite song or what they snack on when they wake up in the middle of the night.”

Steve seemed shocked by this answer, but his features quickly melted into a soft smile, one Eddie would want to see every single day.

“Fine. But it’s not a date,” Steve held out his hand, ready to be led.

Instead of lacing his fingers with Steve’s, or even just grabbing his hand in his palm, he wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist again.

“We’ll see.”

———

On graduation day, Steve and Eddie found their way back to their spot, one they’d probably never visit again.

Eddie’s fingers were curled around Steve’s wrist as they stood facing each other, close enough to feel each other’s breaths against their lips.

Nearly two years together, nearly 300 trips to this spot, and more than 500 dates that they never called dates.

And it was just the beginning.

Eddie leaned in to press his lips to Steve’s gently, keeping it soft so they wouldn’t get carried away.

They had to meet Wayne at the Italian restaurant in less than an hour and then Steve’s mom expected them back at Steve’s apartment for a wine and dessert celebration.

They wouldn’t be properly alone like this again for at least a couple days, but they didn’t have time to do much about it right now.

“I love you,” Eddie whispered as he rested his forehead against Steve’s.

“I love you, too,” Steve said back.

He didn’t have dark shadows under his eyes anymore, spending more nights sleeping in bed with Eddie than awake at parties he didn’t want to be at. His hair had most of its shine back. He’d put on a few pounds after joining the gym again, using it as an outlet for stress instead of hiding in corners at parties where he would drink just enough to get buzzed four times a week.

He made friends with Eddie’s friends, plus some of his own when he got a part time job at the coffee shop on campus.

Steve never spoke to Tommy again, at least as far as Eddie knew. He didn’t seem interested in being his friend again, and once he told Eddie more about their “friendship”, he couldn’t really blame him.

“You ready to go see Wayne?” Steve asked him, probably more excited than even Eddie was.

Wayne and Steve bonded quickly and they’d probably spend most of the lunch talking about sports and where they would go fishing this summer.

Eddie nodded, but he pulled something from his pocket before Steve could pull away and start walking back to the car they now shared.

“What’s that?” Steve asked, pointing towards the envelope in Eddie’s hand.

“It’s a gift from me to you. Well, I guess both of us, but I really got it for you.”

He handed it to Steve, who opened it quickly.

He pulled out the paper inside and Eddie watched his eyes fly across the words written there.

“Eddie.”

“Stevie.”

“You got us a trip to Italy? How the fuck did you get us a trip to Italy?” Steve was looking at him, eyes wet with tears.

“Doesn’t matter how. Wayne gave us some money for it, so did your mom. I’ve been saving for a year. Want us to have something special before we have to start working.” Eddie kissed his forehead. “Plus I want any excuse to see you in some of those see-through linen shorts.”

Steve’s lips were on his, his arms wrapped around Eddie’s neck. Eddie wrapped his arms around his waist to hold him there.

“I’ll wear them every day,” he gasped as he leaned in for another kiss.

Eddie laughed. “You won’t hear any complaints from me, sugar.”

“I can’t believe you did this. All I got you was a t-shirt.”

“You know I love t-shirts. I know you love Italy. It’s a win-win for both of us.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but kissed him again.

His eyes widened. “Oh my god. Are you gonna propose in Italy?”

Eddie snorted. “Why would I answer that question?”

“Because! I have to know!”

“Why?”

“So I can make sure I have a nice outfit for pictures, dumbass.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see. You look good in everything,” Eddie kissed the top of his head before he wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist and tugged on it once. “Let’s get to Wayne before he sends a search party.”

Eddie smiled to himself as they walked to the car, Steve’s rambling about what he wanted to do in Italy keeping his mind from wandering too far. He couldn’t help thinking about the ring he had stashed away in his guitar case, though.

Italy was the perfect place to propose.

[inkykeiji]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ alastor + dressing you in white

character: alastor warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, heavy pet/master dynamic, toxic relationship (condescension), blood + blood eating, slight gore, fem!reader words: 1.8k

alastor exclusively dresses you, his precious little pet, in white—white linen dresses, white silk pjs, white cotton undies—and you’ve finally figured out why.

“Alright, uh,” Charlie’s finger flicks the worn cardboard spinner in her hands, watching as the arrow lands on a splotch of colour. “Right hand, red!”

You’re in the parlour when it happens—a sudden, sharp pain that sears through your ribs as you bend over, a reactive hiss spit from between gritted teeth. 

“Whats’a matter?” Angel teases, panting slightly. “Too short to reach your colour?” 

Throwing a glance over his shoulder, Angel’s long limbs easily twist to obey the most recent order, both of his right hands finding red circles on the crinkled plastic mat.

“No, I just—”

“Holy shit!” his gasp cuts you off, all amusement eradicated from his face, dissolved by concerned shock. “You’re bleeding!” 

“What?” 

Glimpsing down at your body, your eyes are drawn toward the rapidly developing blot of scarlet, steadily seeping through white linen—a gruesome petal, irregular edges spreading, slow but ceaseless, eating away at the fabric.

A gurgle of disquiet sounds from the couch, voices tangling together, dulled to your ears as your gaze finds your Master’s. 

But he doesn’t meet your stare. 

Unblinking crimson eyes are focused on the flowering patch of blood, beginning to mottle as specks bloom around it. His chest rises and falls with even little huffs of air, ebony pupils gnawing at his irises as they devour the sight, his fingers twitching on his knee. Your gaze drifts back to the smeared blemish, the softest whimper dripping from your lips.

It’s beautiful. 

Alastor was right; your blood does look ravishing against the crisp bright fabric—stark but artful, a miniature abstract piece being painted in real time as the substance transudes the linen, created by your body and his, together. 

Now you understand; there is a reason why Alastor always dresses you in white. Especially when the abrasions he leaves have a nasty tendency to split and spill out. 

Entranced, your fingers press around the sensitive flesh, feeling the open wound hollowed by your dress and staining your skin with a glittering crimson, a sharp breath sucked through the gaps of your teeth, flashes of speared agony radiating through the surrounding flesh.

Your sound of pain seems to snap Alastor from his revere, blinking twice as he comes back to himself, smile stretching wider with something sinister, worming between razored teeth.

“All right,” Alastor’s saying as he stands from the couch, bravado ringing strong and clear and firm over the chatter. “I’ll take care of this.” 

“Are you sure? That looks, uh—”

“Why is she bleeding in the first place?” 

“Alastor, maybe we should—”

“Come, pet.” Alastor disregards the chorus of concerned comments without sparing them a glance, holding an arm out to you in invitation.

Then you’re scampering to his side, instant, instinctive, allowing him to curve around you protectively, guiding you away from a collection of worried faces with a palm plastered over the injury. 

“I told you not to play,” Alastor admonishes in a singsong while he guides you through the threshold of his bedroom

Leaning into him, you nestle your cheek against his ribs, catlike, hiding the blurry disappointment nipping at your eyes.

“But I wanted to.” 

“You should’ve known better,” he chides, but his voice is tender, fingers rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder as he ushers you into his bathroom, depositing you on the rim of the clawfoot tub. “Your injuries are not fully healed yet.” 

Your injuries are never fully healed, you want to point out. He is constantly engraving new cuts, scrapes, slashes, bites into you; there is never a moment where your body is not stained with Alastor in some way.

“I thought they’d be okay,” you say instead, forehead scrunched in petulance. 

“Well, you thought wrong.”

“Who knew a game of Twister could be so strenuous,” you mutter to yourself, bottom lip wavering on the edge of a pout. 

He snorts out a titter, mean and scoffing as his fingers pick through the first aid kit. “For such a smart little girl, you can be really stupid sometimes, can’t you?”

“What?”

But he refuses to elaborate, continuing on as if you hadn’t spoken at all. 

“Clearly, Master cannot allow you to make decisions for yourself,” he teases, but his tone holds a twinge of sincerity, a vow of certainty. 

This is the last time you’ll be making a decision on your own for a long time. 

“Arms up.” 

Immediately, you comply, arms held straight over your head, Alastor’s hands curling in the hem of your dress and pulling it from your body in one swift, fluid motion. 

It stings, the linen of the dress ripped harshly from the steadily weeping wound it had been clinging to, a yelp cracking in your throat. 

A halfhearted hush falls from your Master’s lips as he carefully drapes the soiled dress over the rim of the tub, taking a moment to admire the stain. A finger traces around the blotch almost affectionately, a tender sigh exhaled out his nose. Then his palms are finding your legs, pushing them apart and sinking to his knees, wedging himself between your spread thighs. 

“All right, let Master see,” he murmurs, shoulders hunched a little as he becomes eye level with the gash, your spine straightening to present the tear to him. 

Hesitant fingers prod at the surrounding flesh, now smeared with dried blood, inspecting the damage. 

“You ripped open every single stitch,” Alastor chuckles quietly, his fingers tugging at the bordering skin and watching with macabre awe as the wound gapes open beneath the pressure, a thick torrent of blood oozing out. 

A whine that sounds suspiciously close to his title sticks in your throat, half-stifled by your clenched teeth, and he looks up at you, sadistic amusement glimmering in his eyes. 

“Does that hurt, sweetheart?” His fingertips press down on the tender flesh, now slick with blood, and shove together, completely sealing the wound, another cascade of crimson spilling past the seam. 

“Master!” you cry out, fingers clamping over his shoulders to steady yourself, nails scraping against cotton. 

 The force of his touch increases, claws nearly sinking into the torn slash. “Answer my question.”

“Yes!” you choke out, head nodding in quick little motions. “Yes, it hurts.” 

A soft hum vibrates at the back of his throat, sharp teeth hidden behind a wide, close-lipped smile. Leaning forward, he plants his tarnished hands on your thighs for stability, then runs his nose along the top of the cut, inhaling one deep breath, his entire ribcage expanding as his chest swells with it. 

He stops, holds the scent in his lungs for a moment, lets it ferment into something sick and foul, lets it steep in the tissues and infuses them with you, before finally exhaling, the rush of air frigid against the bleeding gash.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, rubbing his mouth into the blood. “So fucking delicious.”

Tongue unfurling from his mouth, he traces, slow and cautious, around the edges of the wound with the tip, turning rusted blood watery and faded, grotesque streaks painted across your flesh. A noise claws at his throat, desperate to get out as he shoves it back down, tongue flattening over the slit and dragging, measured and meticulous, slick muscle soaking up the percolating blood.

“Alastor,” you nearly moan, dainty fingers curling around his antlers, the sudden touch evoking a growl from deep within his chest. 

“Let your Owner clean it,” he spits against the injury, lips brushing it again, voice muffled by your skin. 

And so, you do—because you’re nothing if not an obedient little pet girlfriend for your Owner, back arching as you press your ribs into his mouth, offering yourself up to him.

He laves over the laceration three more times, glazing it in a protective layer of his saliva, glimmering in the light with each of your shallow breaths. 

“Better,” he breathes, the word nothing more than a wisp of air against the wet cut, chills skittering across your flesh. 

“Th-Thank you, Master,” you whisper, fingers tugging on his antlers a little, desperate to get him closer. “I—It felt nice.” 

Crimson eyes flick up, his gaze veiled by heavy lids as he laps at his lips, cleaning them of excess blood, some of it streaked along his chin. 

And, oh, how breathtakingly beautiful he looks coloured in strokes of you. 

Hips twitching a little, your thighs tense around his torso, and he looks down again, eyes honing in on the drenched lace between your legs, panties molding to your cunt and accentuating every dip, every bump, every contour. 

He chuckles at the sight—something dark, something decadent, something demeaning melting on his tongue. 

“Well,” he pants softly to himself, pride tweaking the edges of his smile. “Would you look at that.” 

A finger traces the outline of your cunt—over your hood, along your lips, circling your hole and just barely pressing into it, watching with a morbid fascination the way it flutters against his finger, delicate material dipping, trying to siphon his finger into you.

“You would like that, you nasty little girl.” 

But he’s aroused, too, his cock straining eagerly against his trousers, a direct result of your sweet blood still tinging his tongue, your precious yelps of pain still ringing in his ears. Saliva pools in the dips of your mouth as you stare at it, thighs flexing on either side of him again, another gush of warmth flooding the apex of your legs. 

“Master, you’re—” you begin in a stringy, needy whine, swallowing thickly. “You—You’re…Can we…” 

“Can we what?” 

A knuckle finds your chin, drawing your eyes back to his, a thumb gripping the point, inhibiting you from fleeing his invasive stare. 

“Come now, it’s rude not to finish your sentence.” 

Pricks of embarrassment erupt across your face, eyes teetering on a wince as you force the stubborn words from your tongue, question trembling.

“Can we fuck?” 

Crimson searches your face, pupils pulsing with a vile sort of voracity, consuming his irises bit by bit as he contemplates. His gaze is cutting, slicing into you as it torturously pulls apart your features and examines them one by one. 

And you—you let him, open and willing and vulnerable and raw as you bear your soul to him, as you rip yourself open for him, as your fingers dig through meat and blood and bone to get to your core, offering it to him wholeheartedly. 

“Perhaps,” he finally responds, reaching for his surgical needle and thread. “I’m going to re-stitch this now,” he tells you, voice a touch huskier than before. “If you are well behaved as I tend to the wound—no squirming, no complaining—I might just give you what you want.” 

His stare holds your own, an eyebrow raising, imbued with inquiry. 

Are you ready to play? 

Oh, he isn’t going to make it easy for you, but you’re up for the challenge. 

[seventeenytiny]

pls write more about piss kinks maybe with jeongin? 😸

SMUT MDNI

Authors Note: Okay so I originally wrote this as some general thoughts with some bullet points but then it turned into a whole ass scenario. I apologize that it's a bit weirdly formatted, I think it still does the job though! Hopefully, you guys are still able to enjoy it! Word Count: 948 Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, PIV sex, Piss kink, cream pie

Jeongin didn't even realize he had a piss kink until that time you pushed him out of the way to pee while he was brushing his teeth in the bathroom.

He immediately felt his face heat up as he heard the sound of you relieving yourself. The way your face relaxed as you let go sent blood right to his dick.

He was pretty embarrassed about it, to be honest. Why is he feeling like this over his partner peeing?

He didn't say anything about his newfound kink for a long time. He was a bit embarrassed and didn't even know how to bring it up, although you figured it out all your own.

Ever since that day, Jeongin would follow you into the bathroom every time you went in. He acted like it was just to continue your conversation, but the bulge in his pants said otherwise.

It was you who finally brought up the idea of experimenting with the piss kink. Jeongin's face turned bright red upon hearing your suggestion.

"Are—are you sure, Y/N? Do you actually want to try that?" he stutters out.

"Yeah, why not? Seems like it could be hot," you say, shrugging your shoulders.

So, you two figure out a plan. The two of you decide to each drink as much water as you can, filling up both of your bladders to max capacity. Towards the end of the evening, both of your bladders are so full you start to ache.

"Jeongin, I don't think I can hold it much longer," you say, feeling the pressure in your lower stomach. He pushes his hand against your stomach, watching you flinch from the pressure. He gives you the most shit-eating grin, teasing you for how badly you must have to go.

You retaliate, poking him back. His reaction proves he's just as full as you. Not willing to endure any more teasing, he lifts you off your feet and carries you into the shower.

Setting you down in the bathroom, his lips graze over yours as his hands toy with the hem of your shirt, "Are you sure you want to go through with this? We can stop at any time if you want."

You place your arms around his neck, pushing your lips against his, "I'm sure I want to try this Jeongin".

With your permission, he helps you undress. His motions show eagerness, yet he does his best to contain himself, his hands moving slowly but shakily over your body. He gently kisses your neck and collarbone before helping you enter the tub.

He holds your bare body against his, his already hard cock pushes into your ass as he sucks on your neck. You turn around to kiss him, your hand reaching down to stroke his cock. He shivers, partially from your touch and partially from how badly he has to piss.

You pin him against the wall, stroking his cock with one hand and pushing against his lower stomach with the other. He whimpers from your touch, "I know you can't hold it much longer Jeongin. Why don't you just let it go?" His lip quivers, and his eyes squeeze shut. You continue to stroke him as you feel his cock twitch, a tiny golden stream spurts out. "Doesn't that feel good baby? Why don't you let it all out?"

It's like a dam inside him breaks, a strong stream of piss comes out. He moans as you aim his stream at your body, aiming for your pussy.

The warmth of his piss almost makes you lose control of your bladder but you continue to hold it. You feel so much heat building up in your lower stomach from how turned on you are. You rub your clit with your free hand as he continues to release on you.

Slowly, his stream tapers off. His tongue practically hangs out of his mouth as he relaxes, his cheeks are red and rosy.

Looking at you covered in his mess makes him go feral. He pushes you up against the wall, your ass sticking out for him. He aligns his cock with your opening before taking you from behind. The stretch of him puts even more pressure on your bladder. You know you can't hold it much longer.

He builds up his pace quickly, his roughness immediately proving it's too much for you to handle. Piss begins to spurt out of you with every thrust, you feel so overwhelmed with pleasure that tears prick your eyes.

"That's it, baby, let it all out. Feels so good pissing all over my cock, doesn't it?" His hand reaches over your body, rubbing your clit. The lighter your bladder gets the more you can feel your orgasm approaching.

"Jeongin please don't stop!" You cry out. When your stream comes to an end you can feel your orgasm begin. You feel yourself squirt all over his cock as he keeps up his pace.

Jeongin's breath gets shaky as he feels your body tremble, "Baby, please let me come inside, please," he pleads with you.

"Come wherever you want, baby."

With that, his orgasm takes over.

He thoroughly rides out his orgasm before his grip on your hips begins to lighten.

When he pulls out, he turns you around to kiss you, his come dripping down your leg.

"That was one of the best orgasms I've had in a long time," you whisper to him in between kisses. The two of you are both hot and out of breath.

"How about a nice warm shower and then we snuggle on the couch with a movie after?" he suggests.

"Sounds like a great way to end the evening."

[lihhelsing]

Carry me home

cw: anxiety attacks, angst | 1.7k | Steddie

Eddie has no idea what he's doing here. If he had a little more self-respect he would be as far away from here as possible. 

But Eddie knows his feelings for himself are questionable, at best. So here he is, against every logical thought.

He spent most of the night wandering around, trying to pretend he was invisible and that no one could see him. In the end, most people were already used to ignoring him, so it wasn't that hard. 

Except for him. 

Eddie's not ashamed to say he had dipped behind the kitchen counter to avoid being seen by him. 

His ex-boyfriend probably wouldn't be happy to see Eddie walking around his party. 

In fact, Eddie could already hear the kind of nasty thing he would shout to him if he were to catch him there.

It was past three in the morning, and Eddie still had no clue why he was there. Maybe he was waiting to get caught. 

The party had died down quite a bit from how it was when he arrived at midnight and Eddie knew it was time for him to leave. He just really, really needs to pee.

He tried the downstairs bathroom and found it locked. There were sounds coming from inside that Eddie would much rather not think about, so he moved on.

Tried to convince himself he could make it back home and pee there, but even as he considered it, he knew he wouldn’t make it.

So he climbed the stairs because he knew it was off-limits during parties – painfully remembering the many times he and Steve would sneak out to his bedroom to make out or just sleep.

The corridor upstairs was dark and mostly quiet, except for the party sounds. Eddie went straight to the second door on the left. The bathroom. 

Eddie tried to be as quiet as he possibly could walking in and closing the door behind him, still in the dark and too afraid to turn on the lights in case that gave him away. 

Steve was probably downstairs, doing keg stands or playing beer pong or some dumb shit like that. 

Eddie used to love to watch him play, but he brushed it aside, not wanting to get sucked in by the rabbit hole of memories. 

He walked using his muscle memory as his eyes got used to the dark. He could make out the toilet and reached out to lift the lid when he heard it. 

It was a muffled, low cry. Sounded like an injured animal and Eddie thought he might be going crazy and hearing things because Steve's parents wouldn't allow him to get a dog, no matter how much he wanted one.

He held his breath to try and figure out where the cry was coming from and was terrified when he realized it was coming from his right side. The bathtub. 

Eddie's mind started to race with a million possibilities, each one nastier than the other. He knew Harrington's parties tend to be crazy and this could literally be anything but he was so freaked out he had even forgotten about how badly he needed to pee. 

Eddie pulled the curtains slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible so as to not alert whoever – or whatever – he was going to find there.

And out of all the scenarios... He just didn't expect to see Steve. Curled in a ball, hugging his knees close to his chest and crying softly. 

Eddie felt his heart plummeting inside his chest. He would very much like to say that was the first time he ever saw Steve like that, but it wasn't. 

And some of those times he was the one to blame. 

For a second, Eddie just stood there, watching Steve cry.  He was so out of it that he didn't even notice Eddie was there and that was scary. 

Meant that he was probably very out of it. 

Eddie should leave.

That was his plan, wasn't it? And there was no way Steve would like his ex-boyfriend to see him looking like that. 

But at the same time... How could he leave him? 

Even before his mind was made, Eddie's legs were moving, stepping inside the tub so he could crouch in it.

He knew better than to touch Steve, so he gently called his name. One, two, three times. 

When it was clear that wouldn't do, he reached out his hand and touched Steve's knee softly. Steve reacted instantly, jerking away, scared. 

Eddie raised his hands and kept his voice low whispering over and over that it was ok, he was ok. "It's just me. It's just Eddie."

Steve's eyes were glassy when he found Eddie's. His face was red as if he had been crying for hours and Eddie worried this might be something he had no idea how to handle.

It was too late to back out now. 

"Eddie?" Steve said. His voice was rough and weird and he coughed a few times before managing to get the words out. 

Eddie nodded. "Yeah. It's me. Hi."

"Am I dreaming?" Steve asked and Eddie let out a dark chuckle. 

"Wouldn't that be more of a nightmare?"

Even through the tears, Eddie could see Steve rolling his eyes. Or at least he thought that was what he wanted to do. 

"Can I touch you?" Eddie asked, and Steve nodded faster than he was expecting. And then Eddie's hand was back on his knee. 

"You're really here?" Steve asked.

"I'm really here," Eddie assured him, squeezing his knee softly. "What happened? Why are you..."

Alone. Hiding. Crying. Looking like you're having a panic attack. 

Steve didn't answer. Instead, he started to move, stretching his legs towards Eddie.

With a loud pop, he found a place for them right under Eddie and didn't seem too worried about it. 

"Just anxious, I guess," Steve said as if it was nothing. He moved his hand so now his fingers were going up and down Eddie's arm, tracing his tattoos.

Eddie felt a shiver running down his spine. He and Steve hadn't touched each other in months. Ever since he walked away. 

Steve was right, this felt like a fever dream.

"Why? Something happened?"

He could see the moment Steve hesitated. Could see the words getting caught in his throat. Instead of answering, he shrugged and looked away. 

"Steve..." Eddie said and he was ready to be yelled at. He was ready for Steve to tell him he had no right to ask him that.

"Felt wrong," Steve answered, eventually. His fingers stopped moving and he curled them around Eddie's wrist. He could feel Eddie's heartbeat going crazy, no doubt. 

"What did, sweetheart?" Eddie knew he was playing with fire. Knew he shouldn't say things like that because

Steve wasn't his anymore. But old habits die hard. 

"All of it? The smell and the touch... It's not the same. And then..."

Eddie wanted to ask what he meant, but he didn't want to interrupt Steve so he let him keep going. 

"Then she fell asleep."

Eddie felt the words piercing through him. Painful and hot. Steve had been with someone else. A girl, it seemed. 

He tried to take his hand away but Steve held tightly to it. 

"It felt wrong, Eddie. So fucking wrong. I told her she was supposed to lie on the right side of the bed and she didn’t.”

Steve's tears were back, rolling down his face freely as he talked.

Eddie had no idea what to say. Maybe he should leave but his legs didn't seem to be working and he didn't have it in him to break free from Steve's touch. Not with how much he had missed it. 

Fuck.

"I told her! I just left for a minute and when I got back she was lying there, on the left side. On your side."

Eddie felt again. Pain. Dread. Hurt. This was too much but Steve was spiraling and he couldn't leave him. He also didn't want to leave him. 

"Shh, it's ok,” Eddie said under his breath. 

He was feeling brave, so he reached out his free hand and pushed Steve's damp hair from his face. He scratched at his scalp the way he knew Steve liked it and the reward was more than he could've hoped for. 

Steve mewled, leaning his head on Eddie's hand as if he had been craving the touch. 

"It's ok, sweetheart. It's an honest mistake," Eddie said even if he had no idea what he was talking about. There was a girl in Steve's bed and he was upset because she was lying on Eddie’s side.

What the fuck.

"Not ok," Steve grumbled back and Eddie had to bite back a laugh. 

He used his thumb to catch a tear that was rolling down his cheek and cupped his face. Steve was so gorgeous, even with his eyes bloodshot and swollen from crying. 

"Not ok, but we'll fix it, ok?"

Steve nodded. His eyes were focused on Eddie and for the first time it looked like he was actually seeing what was happening. Eddie was scared this meant he was going to kick him out. 

But he didn't. 

"Can you take me home?" Steve asked, under his breath. His voice was so small

Eddie barely made out the words. 

He wanted to point out to Steve that he was home, already. But deep down he knew what he was asking. And he knew he shouldn't. Knew this was too much and he wasn't going to recover from it. 

But still. He couldn't bear to see Steve like that.

"Yeah, sweetheart. I'll take you home, c'mon. My car is right outside."

Steve smiled softly as he let Eddie pull him up and out of the bathtub. As soon as they were walking, Steve plastered himself to Eddie's side, holding on tightly. 

Eddie let him.

He made a mental note to call Robin when he had a chance, just to let her know he got Steve. 

He wondered if she was going to be surprised. Probably not.

Steve buried his face on Eddie's neck and breathed him in. He placed a soft kiss there and Eddie sighed in response, knowing damn well he was fucked.

[gladiatorcunt]

MARLBORO REDS - ANAKIN SKYWALKER

cause good men die too, so i’d rather be with you

summary: mechanic dilf!anakin x gender neutral kindergarten teacher!reader

wc: 8.4k

cw: “soft” dark content, made padme’s death vague on purpose, anakin has the vibes of a married father of 4 hitting on you while you’re waiting on their table at olive garden, daddy kink, anakin imagines killing someone, MALE MASTURBATION (the most graphic fantasies are skull fucking and anakin kinda hoping you’ll tear when he puts it in), bra mention (reader does have a fem style but i’m nb so that’s how i see it and men can also have a fem style), it’s not mentioned but anakin is going through cigarette withdrawals, anakin’s canon typical inability to be in a healthy relationship, possibly predictable plot twist (?), i wanted to be a lot grosser, anakin is 42 and he’s depicted as such, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s), this takes place in the U.S.

requests are open (read the rules first)

block & move on if uncomfortable

do not repost or translate!!

The exhaust fumes transported him for a moment, somewhere tropical with a cigar in one hand and a tit in the other as a wet body slid adjacent to his. His hard-earned vacation went up in flames as a shrill car horn hunted down his eardrums. Anakin snapped out of it and stared through his brittle bangs with dead eyes. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, how to act like a normal human being one of them. 

"Alright, that should be everything. Since we just needed to rotate your tires and do an oil change, we're looking at about 142 dollars."

"Thank you so much, I'll just go pay at the front desk. Have a good one!"

Anakin sighed and gave a half assed wave that she didn't even see. He has nowhere near as much spunk as he did back in the day, but his energy is always shot to hell long before he sees his last customer of the day. Luckily it was just a routine maintenance type of thing, he would've just bashed his head in with a wrench if it was anything more. 

Puddles of blood trot after said customer, he’s amazed that they can drive so well considering they have a bullet in their head. 

There’s no bullet or rivers of blood in actuality, but a man can dream. 

His knee joints creaked as he got out of his squatting position. He groaned from the effort while smearing his fingers in more grease trying to wipe them off on the pants of his overalls. The whole workshop smelled like garbage and he probably smelled even worse. His trusty grease rag was subsequently discarded on top of his portable tool tower. He noticed that a tub of lighter fluid was on its side so he prevented that big mess waiting to happen and screwed the cap shut, picked it up, and set it back on the shelves in the storage room. He had to remember to leave one of his employees a post-it notifying them that they were almost out. 

His sleeves were shucked up his soft muscular forearm to check his watch. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets like moles in a whack-a-mole machine when he saw the time. 

SHIT! 

It was 4:30, the time he's expected to be at Alderaan Apples Elementary to pick up his twins. He didn't have the time it would normally take him to drive 20 minutes back to his place for a 10 minute shower, and then drive 30 more minutes to be at his kids' school. He normally didn't work that late, since he owns the shop he can choose his own hours. But Anakin lost track of time obsessing over work and now he'd have to embarrass his kids by showing up covered in it. Their teacher would probably be there to chew him out, but in his defense this really didn't happen all that often. 

That teacher being arguably the biggest reason why he hated that they’d see him looking how he did right then. They're awfully pretty, with a chest that he's pictured slapping and sucking while their thick ass recoils from bouncing on his uncut cock. They had just moved to their average sized town at the start of the year, they told him at the parent teacher conferences at the beginning of the school year. Something about yearning to get away from their lackluster small town but also being too afraid to venture out into any kind of big city on their own. 

They were making the cutest little gestures when they were shyly talking his ear off too, shifting their thighs together as they swayed and never letting their eye contact stray too far away from their freshly polished mary janes. Anakin was very careful about remembering everything he could about Luke and Leia's first real school year. Hell, he was more scared than they were. But there was just something in the way this new teacher did their best to soothe any worries the kids might have. 

"It's okay, we'll be going on this new adventure together. And I'll do my very best to be there for you every step of the way. I hope you can be brave and look after me too!"

Luke nodded timidly but with a newfound sense of determination. Leia shouted an affirmative, being more extroverted in comparison to her brother. 

Their teacher was young, somewhere in their early 20's. Most likely having flown into town right after getting their degree. It made something in his gut swirl and simmer, imagining their delicate finger tracing his crow's feet and tugging on the gray in his hair. Their head nestled gently in between his squishy pecs, some of his muscle definition was lost with age but he had a feeling you'd like how much the slight softness of his belly highlighted the muscle underneath. 

The cliche apples in the blouse their teacher was wearing seemed to have Anakin in a trance as he zoned out. He grunted in acknowledgement when he needed to and slipped every form and newsletter he was given into his satchel. When it was time to head home, Luke and Leia clung to their teacher's legs. Anakin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and bent over to pry them off. He explained how sorry he was, being a single dad meant that whether or not he meant to, the kids still looked for a mother figure. 

He'll never forget the way your eyes widened by a fraction, flicking up to make eye contact with his feigned nonchalant stare. You seemed.... happy to hear that he was single. But that could've just been an old man getting wrapped up in the delusions that he still has it. 

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Mr. Skywalker. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how hard it is to do what you do everyday, but let me just say that I think you're doing an excellent job."

He thinks you'd do even better. 

By the time he had finished reliving that fond little memory, he could spot the street sign for the street the school was on. Ruffling his hair, he made a sharp right turn and slowly pulled into the parking lot. His black chevy truck performed beautifully like always so he gave her a solid pat on the hood. He turned on his heel, immediately seeing his children hugging either one of your legs. He was only 10 minutes late, it wasn't any better but he would never make his kids feel like he abandoned them. He never wanted them to go through what he had gone through when he was their age. 

He adjusted his collar and made a last ditch effort to wipe his fingers off on his clothes. He heard a  quiet cough. He shot his head up to catch your unamused eyes. A wry smile appeared on his face as he jogged over to you. When he reached  the three of you, he immediately crouched and placed a hand on Luke and Leia's shoulders. 

"Dad's really sorry, okay? He just lost track of time but he rushed over here as fast as he could as soon as he realized what time it was."

Luke peeked out from behind your leg, "Like the Flash?"

"Yes, Luke, like the Flash." Anakin chuckled, slowly opening his arms wide in the hopes that his kids weren’t too mad at him. 

Thankfully he was instantly overwhelmed by two bodies slamming into him, almost knocking him onto the ground and tumbling down the concrete steps. Luke was clutching onto him so tightly and Leia was giggling up a storm. He stood up and gently ushered his kids into holding one of his hands so they could stand beside him. 

He cleared his throat a few times before finally addressing you. 

"I'm so sorry, I don't know if you overheard but work was really hectic today and I didn't want to waste more time cleaning up. Please just think of me how you did before, I won't look like this tomorrow."

You sighed, shaking your head with a small smile. Your blouse had a floral pattern today, blue covered in peonies and apple blossoms. Your pants were some kind of plaid thing but you make them work so well. Anakin had  to actively keep his eyes from eye fucking your wide hips and oggling the expanse of your butt in the tight pants. Just thinking about how little must be left to the imagination made his cock ache in his overalls. But he restrained himself, he was going to ask you out when he was in a much better and.... cleaner state. He pushed the thoughts down and settled himself down with daydreams of the near future. 

"It's alright, Mr. Skywalker. I understand your situation, so long as it doesn't happen frequently and the children don't have to wait too long, we won't have a problem." You gently admonished the older man, not hiding the protective tone in your voice but still looking up at him with bashful warmth in your eyes. 

Stars, the way you were already so protective over his kids made him even harder. He briefly wondered how you'd be with their younger siblings. The image made his heart flutter and a wide smile stretched his lips. He shuffled from one foot to the other, praying to whatever God is out there that he's able to hide his boner in his baggy overalls. He still had quite a few years before he even wanted to think about having the birds and bees talk with the kids. He adjusted his overalls quickly and reached out a greasy rough palm to you. 

"I swear this won't happen everyday, thank you for being so kind. I definitely won't forget it." He murmured with a wink that was open to interpretation. 

You bit your lip as you leaned forward to slip your smooth palm into his. A sharp shiver traveled up Anakin's body and butterflies erupted in your stomach at the contact. You clicked your heels together and shook his hand, the weight of it made certain kinds of thoughts pop into your head that you'd rather not deal with at the moment. 

Reluctantly Anakin pulled his hand away, making sure it lingered more than was necessary or appropriate. He put his back to you and double checked that Luke and Leia had one hand in each of his and their other hands on the strap of their backpacks. Luke had one with planets on it while Leia had one with dinosaurs. He looked down at their feet to make sure that they were going slow and steady on the steps. They reached the bottom of the steps and walked across the parking lot to Anakin's truck. He opened the back seat, lifting Leia first and waiting for her to settle in before nearly throwing out his back bending down again to help Luke in. He buckled them up and made sure their seatbelts were fastened properly. He took a few steps back and gingerly closed the backseat door on Luke's side. His back was screaming at him on the trip around the back of the truck, it especially burned when he haphazardly threw his door open and climbed up into the driver's seat. 

The drive home was the same as it was everyday. Leia excitedly told her father all about every single detail of her day and Luke needing less coaxing to talk about his as the school year progressed. Luke was upset when they ran out of apple juice at lunch because that meant he had to have grape. Leia bragged about the rock she painted during craft time. Anakin listened intently, no matter what kind of depraved shit he felt for their teacher, he wanted to take extra care that both of his kids felt heard and appreciated at the end of the day. He responded with jokes and questions to keep them talking, it distracted them from realizing how long the drive was to the house.

They pulled into the house's garage half an hour later. Anakin was about ready to collapse into a pile of bones in his recliner. Luke and Leia ran like bats out of hell through the door and up the stairs to their bedrooms. He could hear the sounds of them putting their backpacks on their hooks and unzipping them to go through the jungle of papers they stash in them. 

The fridge was fresh out of Dr. Pepper so Anakin grumbled and got a can of bud lite from his locked minifridge on the counter. He managed to make it to the couch before he let himself fall face first onto the cushions. 

The pitter patter of tiny feet bounding down the stairs yanked him from sleep so he sat up and leaned his cheek against the arm of the couch.

"Dad! Dad! Dad! Look!" Luke blurted out, shoving some kind of paper in his dad's smushed face. 

Anakin grimaced but made himself sit upright. He reached out and took the paper from Luke, holding it at a good distance away from his face and at a downwards angle so he could read it properly. 

"What's this, buddy?"

"It's a paper for the party, Dad! The Valentine's day one that's um.... this Friday, i think.” Luke nervously wrung his hands in his striped shirt as he spoke. “I want to get something for my teacher too…” 

Anakin rubbed his shaved chin as he read the paper. Luke was right. It was a newsletter informing parents about the Valentine's Day party each class would be holding on Friday. There would be no working or classes and instead every class would have an all day party for both the children and their parents. Students were allowed to bring any snacks of choice, but they had to bring a box of valentine cards for their class and give one to every student in their class.

"That must be nice, having no school for a day. Well, i'll be there on Friday and tomorrow we can go to the store and get the supplies for you and your sister." 

“And we can get something for my teacher?”

“Of course Luke, that’d be a very nice thing to do for them.”

"Okay! Thanks, dad, love you!" Luke cheered, bouncing on his feet and kissing Anakin on the cheek while giving him a second long side hug before running back upstairs. 

The next day the Skywalker family was back in the truck on the way to the biggest local supermarket in the area. It wasn't too far, just in the next town over. They could've gone to the smaller store back home, but the kids liked having options and liked car rides that were like little road trips. (Why they hated the longer drives when they were to school but liked them in situations like this, Anakin could sympathize. 

Anakin shut the radio off when they pulled into the large parking lot of the supermarket. He put his car in park and turned the engine off. The wind chill smacked him right in the face as soon as he stepped out of his seat. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms to warm himself up and walked over to get Leia and Luke out of the car as quickly as possible without freezing his ass off. They did the standard routine of holding their dad's hands while they crossed the parking lot. Anakin was telling them to look both ways to watch out for any cars that were coming as they walked along the crosswalks. Mercifully they weren't in the cold long before they entered the store.

The bright white LED overhead lights made Anakin want to pass out but he followed closely behind the kids that were already running themselves ragged all over the place. He reminded them what they were here for and his arms were pulled to their breaking point all the way to the card aisle. There were so many options of valentine card packs. There were Bluey ones, Spiderman, ones that looked like the cootie catchers you fold and pull apart, et cetera. 

Luke ended up choosing Spiderman ones that came with pencils. Leia chose a kitten design for her cards. 

Anakin almost fell asleep on the ride home. He let the kids pick out drinks from the little displays in front of the registers so they were miles away in sugar rush land. He made a note to pop a couple ibuprofens before he went to bed. Some days are easier than others but since his wife passed away when his kids were newborns, he’s never known what it was like to be able to depend on someone else to always be there to help. His childhood friend Obi-wan stops by every so often to stay over, his mom and step-dad babysit when he stops being stubborn, but that’s once in a blue moon. The sunset casts light onto the sunspots and hair on his arms. He rolled both of his sleeves up because his body typically runs hot and global warming making the temperature 65 degrees in the middle of February does him no favors. 

The McDonald’s they drove through got the kids happy meals wrong three times, something that was clearly a sign of the apocalypse. 

He had to remind Luke and Leia not to run too fast as they clammored out of the truck with his assistance and bolted to the front door. Anakin sighed his millionth sigh of the day and clamped a hand on Leia’s head to steady her as he searched his rusty old keyring for their house key. His steady hand inserted the key into the lock, ushering his kids inside with his free hand while he pushed the door open. His long legs moved at a sloth like pace, Leia and Luke ignored him and shot up the stairs like two little rockets.

“Guys, slow down. Marshmallow feet, remember?” He reminded them and leaned around the corner so they could hear him, shaking his head in exasperation when all he gets in response is a couple “Okay, dad!”s. 

The white and orange ibuprofen bottle stored in one of the many dark wood cabinets over the fridge beckoned him with a come hither motion. He’s little more than a slave to his baser instincts so he dutifully heeded the call. The cabinet creaked when he cracked it open but he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he dove for the pill bottle and shook out a few orange pills. He exhaled in relief in a way that would suggest he was smoking weed when his adams apple bobbed as the pills hit his stomach. 

With that mindless task out of the way, Anakin slowly journeyed up the stairs to get Leia and Luke ready for bed. He kept a stern eye on them to ensure they brushed their teeth, used their mouthwash properly, and washed their faces. After the kids completed their bedtime routines, he tucked them into bed while humming a lullaby Obi-Wan had taught them when he held them as infants. He gave them their time to say goodnight to their mom, Luke looked at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling when he said it and Leia clutched her stegosaurus plushie when she whispered her goodnight. 

Anakin didn’t contribute but he warmly kissed his twins on their foreheads and tucked the corners of their comforters around their shoulders. 

His heavy work boots thundered against the hardwood floor of the hallway as he walked out of their room and down the carpeted stairs to the den. He unhooked the buttons holding up his overalls on his shoulders and shimmied his ruined overalls down to his ankles. His hairy thighs expanded as he stepped out of them so he could kick them to the other side of the room. He was left in only his boxers and a white tank top that would never be white again. So he flexed his arms as he took that tank top off too. Grease stains were all over his body but he could at least take a shower now. 

His boxers joined the towels from yesterday’s shower on the floor as his soft cock flopped out. He gave it an absentminded stroke that injected something molten into his bone marrow. He bent over to reach the faucet and turned the water on. The shower didn't start until the water babbling over his thick calloused fingers was hot enough to cook a lobster in. 

He rolled his shoulders back as he stepped into the shower. His mouth dropped open in a silent exclamation and his neck popped as his head lolled back. The onslaught of boiling hot water pin pricked his skin in a pleasure-pain sort of way that made his thoughts temporarily quiet down. 

His cock gave a couple twitches but Anakin elected to wait until he had at least washed his hair before he rubbed a much needed orgasm out. 

3-in-1 shampoo that smelled like some dior cologne was all up in his hair, his hands unhurriedly glided through his short-ish soapy strands. He angled his head back and let the lather he had worked up be drowned out by the shower head. He grabbed his vanilla & shea butter body wash and let the spout rest against his glistening pecs as his fingers curled around the stocky bottle and squeezed. The smooth liquid spurted out over his pecs and dripped down his body. He reached his hands right up under the steady stream and soaped up his pecs, ghosting his thumbs over his puffy nipples before spreading his hands out and spreading the soapsuds all over the rest of his body. 

Squelching sounds echoed off the shower floor as Anakin widened his stance. His right hand was subconsciously traveling closer and closer to his half-hard cock. He had worked so hard, finally being able to relax and luxuriate in the silence made the blood in his body migrate further south. 

A certain teacher flashed through his mind, his head whipped down in shock to discern how greatly his flushed cock swelled up faster just at the single image of his kids’ kindergarten teacher. 

An aurora borealis of fantasies swirled in the air. 

You’re kneeling on a pillow (he would be at serious risk of getting more brow wrinkles if you had to touch the harsh dirty floor with your bare skin.) and bobbing your head up and down the fat cock making a bulge in your cheek. Your sparkling eyes have this glazed over look to them as he anchors his hands on the back of your head. He widens his stance and bullies your throat with his heavy cock. You squeak and sputter but you take it like such a good pet. Your plump lips slide off of his meat a couple inches but before he can do anything, you’re groping his taut ass as you wiggle your head down to the base of his cock. Your eyes flutter shut as your brain shuts off; your nose is buried right in his musky bush. His face scrunches up in the best kind of pain, but he locks his gaze on the way your eyes roll back when he begins to skull fuck you.

Thank god for oral fixations. 

“Gonna let Daddy soak this warm throat pussy?” Don’t worry, he knows you can’t exactly use your vocal chords properly at the moment. So he nods your head for you, deepening his thrusts into slow sharp jabs. 

He’d baptize you in cum if you let him, your skin would look so pretty and glossy covered in it. He’d help you wipe it off after he cements the image of your eyelashes sticking together in his mind. 

Now he’s grabbing your love handles while his cock builds his dream home in your guts. Your ass shakes back against his hips as you try to steady the phone in your hands and face it towards the overhead. He grabs your hair in one fist and gently tugs your head up so you can pay attention properly. He didn’t go through all this just to let you hide away from him. In a perfect world, the kids would be staying with his mom so you’d be more than welcome to lose your voice.

The vision in his mind shifts to you being on your back, hands trembling trying to hold your legs as close to your chest as possible. You’re looking up at him like he was born in the center of the sun. He’s looking back at you like you’re the moon made flesh, eternally encapsulated in his sea of stars. Anakin smiles triumphantly but with a heady passion in his gait that threatens to burn his lungs to ash, coughing them up over your open heart. 

“You’re doing so well puppy, that’s my brave baby.” He coos and pries your hands off your thighs finger by finger. 

Once your hands are free, his larger ones ardently seek out yours like a dog going after a bone. The rough texture of his digits feels like an uncomfortably pleasant caress as they lace together with your own. He doesn’t look at anything else; can’t think of anything else when you make the cutest little watery gasp as his cock humps along the crack of your hole. The red tip of it gets caught against your outer sweet spot as if trying to give your crotch small pecks. His eye wrinkles crinkle when his smile widens and he offers a breathy laugh. 

He squeezes your hands tightly as he wraps a hand around his cock and directs it to its northern star. Your nails digging into his knuckles don’t distract from your hole stretching itself wide to suckle at his encroaching length. 

And if in the shower he spilled into his feverishly fucked fists at the concept of crimson liquid mixing with cum to make a pink swirl where your bodies meet, you’d never know. He thumbed at the glans under his cock tip as he came down from his high, skirting a fingernail up a vein on the side and wishing he was mouthing the space between your shoulder blades; preening your white feathers with his scratchy tongue. 

The next couple days were gone with a couple of blinks. He never deviated from his routine; wake up, wipe off the drool on his face, get kids ready and take them to school, go to work, clean up, go pick kids up from school, help with whatever work 6 year olds would have, put them to bed, jerk off in the shower till his legs ache, fall asleep on his stomach with his the right side of his face smushed into a pillow. 

He did find some time to put together a teacher’s appreciation basket for you. You more than anyone else deserved a few something somethings on a day meant to represent love. The gifts were packed nicely and neatly in a vintage wicker basket wrapped in a red gingham bow and covered in see through red plastic wrap. Your reaction would regrettably have to be viewed from afar, but he’d know how to move forward depending on what adorable expression you had all over your face.

The night before the party, Anakin allowed Luke and Leia to stay up a smidge later than normal so that they could get all of their things ready for the party. Anakin’s special present slept soundly in the seat next to his in front of his truck. An additional gift from Luke was tucked inside along with an item from Leia who had insisted on it when she found out Luke was getting you something.. The basket being hidden away for the time being allowed him to focus completely on helping his children with their gifts at the coffee table. 

Luke’s eyes were droopy as he wrote down the names of his classmates in the hearts made to look like Spiderman’s mask in his cards. He inserted  most of the pencils in the intended slot on the left of the cards by himself before he slumped against Anakin’s arm and weakly pushed the pile of cards towards his dad. Anakin chuckled as he ruffled Luke’s fluffy blonde hair and teasingly whispered that he didn’t know a boy could be so sleepy. His son blinked at him as if to say how unfunny his dad was before yawning and snuggling further into his father. 

Anakin pushed the rest of the pencils into the card slots and sealed all of the cards with red heart stickers. He lifted his head to look across the glass coffee table to check in on how Leia was doing. For how fiery his daughter was already at such a young age, she wasn’t immune to getting tired before 8:30. The signature buns on her head that she loved begging him  to do for her had loose hairs poking out of them because of how Leia had buried her head in her arms. 

Anakin blew a breath out in fond chagrin as he easily reached over the table and delicately removed the pins holding the buns in place. He fluffed out the hair that fell down so her scalp wouldn’t feel weird when she woke up. 

He hoisted Luke up in one arm and Leia in the other (something they were getting a bit too big to continue doing) and slowly but surely deposited them on the couch. He snatched a white plush blanket from the linen closet and settled it over them before turning back to the massive amount of paper cards on the table. He finished the last of Leia’s cards a short while later. He sorted the cards into orderly piles and put them in sandwich bags that he took to the kids room so he could put the bags in their backpacks. 

Anakin came back to the living room as he tried to shoo the sleep away by digging his knuckles into his eye sockets in a lazy rub. He opened the cabinet and took out a package of pink frosted sugar cookies with red heart shaped sprinkles, a pack of capri suns, and a tupperware bowl full of mini brownies. With a long drawn out yawn he set the snacks out on the counter so that he would remember them tomorrow morning. He got a set of paper plates and a sectioned set of cutlery in case you needed any extra. Maybe you’d give him one of those corny gold star stickers as a thank you. 

Friday morning was ushered in by  two children risking their dad’s life by flopping on his stomach with all the strength they had while he was sleeping. 

“OH FU-“ He shouted before he remembered who was in the room and gently rolled them off of his stomach. “What exactly do you two think you’re doing?”

 "It's time to wake up dad, we're gonna be late for school!" Leia said with a dismayed look on her somewhat chubby face. 

Anakin looked away and meekly mouthed a 'sorry' as he looked at the led clock that he had forgotten to set an alarm on. 

Fuck, not again. 

He sat up in bed and hunched over; his head buried in his hands. Luke and Leia crowded around him as they tried their best to comfort their father, giving his back light pats. He let them pull his hair so that he'd look up at them. He smiled in gratitude and crawled out of bed as quickly as he could to get the day started. 

He made a comical sight; hobbling around the floor with his ripped jeans pooled around his feet as he raced to get his kids ready for school in time. His belt was a fairly new black leather piece that he'd been keeping for a special occasion, but the anxiety of the morning made him grapple with getting the buckle in place. Once that was done a shameful amount of time later, he shoved his clothes to the side in his closet as he searched for a nicer, more "classy" dress shirt. Anakin gnawed at his bottom lip and eventually decided on a black silk button up that matched his belt. He crouched, chanting in his head that he hoped he wouldn't tear a muscle, and chose a pair of italian leather slides that his mom had gotten him for Father's Day a couple of years ago. The bathroom mirror held back no punches when it showed Anakin the state of his head. He crossed his fingers and smoothed back his hair with the tiniest glob of gel; the water he splashed on his face would have to do some serious charity work. He could only hope that you liked the naturally unkempt but not too unkempt kind of look, a striking sort of ruggedness. 

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad..." Luke droned, understandably fed up with waiting on his dad to deal with another one of his mini mid life crisis episodes. 

"I'll be right there Luke, hold on a second, please."

Anakin gave into his son’s begging and let him brush his teeth with the birthday cake flavored toothpaste today. Even though the dentist moaned about how hard it was to clean out when they introduced it to Luke at his last appointment. His Spiderman toothbrush played a jingle meant to sound like the theme song when Luke did his 2 minutes of brushing. Anakin stood protectively behind him as he spit in the sink, his hand hovered over his head so he wouldn't hit it. He took Luke's toothbrush and ran it under the water before he put it back in the clear organizer next to the faucet. He poured the recommended amount of mouthwash from the bottle and passed the lid that acted as the cup to Luke. Luke grimaced but he tipped the cup up so the blue liquid would pour in his mouth, he swished it around and then spat it out too. He sipped from the glass of water that was handed to him and proudly beamed at his father.

"Good job, Luke. I'm so proud of you." Anakin congratulated him, Luke was still finicky about floss so today would not be the day that he attempted to get him to use it. 

Being a parent means knowing how to pick your battles and what time to schedule them. 

Anakin brushed Luke's hair and fluffed it out a bit like a surfer (how Luke likes it). He grabbed his son by his underarms and lifted him off of the step stool. The mirrors in their house were still a bit too high for his kids to see properly so for now the stools had a purpose. He would be sad when they no longer needed them. 

Anakin quickly dipped into the twins room to grab their backpacks. He had already gotten them dressed after he got out of bed earlier. He helped Luke put his on and then repeated the same process with Leia. Her toothbrush made a loud roar when she finished brushing, and she had a fit of giggles in response. His daughter preferred straightforward mint toothpaste so morning routines really weren't that much of a struggle with her. Once she put the glass of water down on the sink, she eagerly turned her back to her dad and pointed at her loose hair. Anakin saluted as he began shaping her hair into the buns she loves so much. He reminded her not to mess with them too much or they'd fall apart, and she always responded that she knew that already. 

They got in a single file line on their mission out the door. Anakin nabbed the containers of snacks and briefly freaked out wondering if he lost the cards before he remembered that they were in the kids' backpacks. He double checked if his keys and wallet were in his pockets, and to his relief everything was where it was supposed to be.

Well, mostly everything. He'd never forget about you, don't worry. 

He put his phone on do not disturb before tossing in the front seat next to his along with the basket already sitting there. 

Anakin told Luke and Leia to buckle their seatbelts as he inserted his key into the keyhole and started the car. He heard them buckle up and waited for the tell tale clicks before putting his car into drive. They had to leave than some of the other kids in their school would have to since they lived farther away, but because it was so early the twins could only yawn and hold onto the other twins' booster seat. Anakin thanked the cosmos and turned the radio on but kept it a low volume; Frank Sinatra's rich voice was the best company on a drive like this. 

The school entrance was abundantly decorated. A large white banner along the front entry archway announced the festivities. A flurry of red, pink, and white ribbons hung across the ceiling of the lobby. Every door had hearts representing the students in their class covering them, the kids's names scrawled in their own messy handwriting with cheap crayons. 

The door of your classroom was the last one on the left. You kept a bottle of hand sanitizer in front of it because you were very particular about hygiene, a trait that served you extremely well in your job. Luke and Leia pointed out where on the door their hearts were as they waited for you to open the door. The Skywalker family were the first ones there so Anakin wasn't sure if it was okay to just drop in on you unannounced. He wished that you would drop on him unannounced. He cradled his gift basket  in his arms as if it were a fragile baby.  

A few minutes later, your heels were heard clacking against the tile floor. The silver door knob jiggled before it stopped moving and the door took its sweet sweet time opening. Your head poked out and your face brightened when you saw who was at the other end. You sunk down into a squat, putting your hands on your knees as you addressed the children. 

"Why, hello Leia; hello to you too Luke. You're a tad early, but you can go ahead and hang your backpacks on the hooks in your cubbies. I haven't finished setting everything up, so you can sit down on any of those chairs at the front of the class." You greeted them and shook their hands before pointing out where they could sit. 

The twins obviously sat together. You didn't have assigned seating in your class, and you felt that Leia and Luke would be more comfortable sitting together during their first year at school. It wasn't guaranteed that they'd be in the same class next year. You were too sensitive to try to separate them. You cried a lot because of how scary school was when you were in their place, so you couldn't imagine being the cause for any tears your students shed.

Anakin was once again too caught up in studying your outfit. You had on a fitted shirt with a cardigan on top, it had thin strings that could unwind with no effort from him if he reached out and just pulled.

But that could wait. 

The kids scattered off to choose their seats. Your classroom had three circular tables with five small red chairs. Each chair had a small blanket on the back with a valentine's pattern. The table at the front where Luke and Leia were sitting had heart shaped placemats with a lace trim that looked like it should've been a doily, but in a… good way. You had red and pink plates on the smaller table next to your desk, as well as clear forks and spoons that looked like they had confetti inside of them. You figured that the parents would bring all of the refreshments and you didn't know what your students would want; you thought that the safest bet would be to hang back. 

Anakin did the most he could to soften his gaze when you straightened up and automatically locked eyes with the older man. He clocked how you instantly glanced down at the floor for a split second. You adjusted your collar, for some reason, and gave him the world’s smallest smile. Anakin was so certain that if he leaned in close enough, he would be able to hear your heart racing at the same accelerated pace as his.

 Some say that means it’s love. 

You fluttered your eyelashes, “Hi, Mr. Skywalker, thank you for coming. It’s always a pleasure to see Luke and Leia, but i’m glad that you could be here for them”

“Believe me, no one’s more happy about me being here than I am.” He blurted out without thinking, ‘Uh, I brought some snacks and drinks for everybody.”

You took in the capri suns and the desserts as your smile grew. Your hand curled around his bicep subconsciously, “Oh my gosh, that’s so nice of you! I’ll just put those over the-“ 

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Anakin sauntered past you to put the food down on the table next to your desk. He placed the frosted sugar cookies down first, followed by the capri suns and brownies. 

He turned to face you and his shirt seemed to tighten over his chest as he rested his hands on his hips. His fingers flexed absentmindedly, like they wished they were gripping something else. 

“I can handle it, sweetheart. I’m 42, not 72.”  He chided you, strolling back over and chucking you under the chin; you were cute if you thought you’d be lifting a single finger the entire day. 

The way you nearly fell head over heels trying to fix your assumed faux paus was even cuter, “No, no- I- I didn’t mean anything- I just- Y-you look very capable to me, sir.” 

If your brain would let you, you would rip your face off to hide from your big mouth. Why the hell would you tell the much older father of two of your students that you think he looks “very capable”? WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO CALL HIM “SIR”? 

Anakin scratched his chin and decided that he’d let you off the hook with no more teasing from him. That’s a lie though, he was confident that you could take whatever he gave you. 

“Careful, don’t stroke my ego too much or I'll have to stroke yours. And please, I'd hate to have to remind you again, my name’s Anakin.” He was flirting a little too shamelessly for where you were, but he was still thinking with his upstairs head and guided you to a back corner. 

“I actually got you something myself, but uh,  if it’s all the same to you, I'd wait to open it until you’re nice and snug at home.” 

He gladly took a short walk to your car with you and helped you set the basket down safely in the trunk. He told you to stand back as he slammed the trunk door shut; slapping it for good measure to make sure it was properly closed. 

The two of you returned to your classroom and like the good little helper Anakin wanted you to know he could be, he helped you greet the incoming parents and students. He even took any concessions they brought and put them with the others

By 8:15 everyone you expected was in your classroom. A few kids were without their parents so you asked some of the other students to invite them to enjoy the party; a party’s no fun alone. 

At some point around 9:00 you had the stray daydream of Anakin pinning you against the wall outside of your door as he savagely plundered your mouth with his teeth and tongue. Finger shaped bruises and a promise to ‘see you at home, baby’ would keep your usually freezing cold body warm. You glance at the man out of the corner of your eye to see that he was already staring. He looked like he wanted to teach you a lot of things.

Whatever that meant. 

The morning half of the day consisted of the cafeteria delivering breakfast and watching a couple of movies that the class voted on. The Lego Batman Movie was first (a unanimous decision), and Wreck-it-Ralph was picked after that (some kids wanted to watch the minion movie like always but you were secretly happy that they weren’t the majority.) 

Lunchtime was when you decided to let the students have the snacks, they were welcome to go down to the cafeteria with a guardian if they wanted actual food but they didn’t have to. You weren’t surprised when none of the seats became empty. 

Anakin had to wrench the small plastic chair away from his ass before he winked charmingly and speed walked to the snack table to help you. The air between the both of you had inexplicably become charged with insurmountable tension. The chaos didn’t give you much chatting time so you could only glances and brush your arms together; how accidental those touches were was up for debate. 

Especially when he needed to get through to the plates and forks behind you. 

“Sorry, let me just squeeze past you.” He whispered in your ear, his big hands using your waist to steady you as he pressed his back flush against your chest. 

In the blink of an eye he was gone. The invisible hands chained to your skin remained. You fanned your face with one of the cheap paper plates as you floated back to your body and got a hold of yourself.  

You looked over at the Skywalker trio to see Luke and Leia point at you as they tirelessly tug on their dads sleeves until he caved. You saved him the trouble and went to them, bending down so you could hear the twins properly.

“Do you two need something? I could see you making a fuss over here.” You teased. 

“Dad forgot to give you our presents….” Leia mumbled and Luke nodded sharply. 

Your eyes widened, “Oh! You didn’t have to get me anything, but the day’s not over yet. You can give them to me now.”

“I did not forget, Leia.” Anakin shook his head, fidgeting in the uncomfortable chair. “They’re in the basket Dad brought, and your teacher has it in her car outside, okay?” 

You nodded and confirmed their fathers words, “He’s right. I didn’t know that there were things from you and your brother in it too but it’s safe and sound. I pinky swear.” 

Two much smaller pinkies met you halfway and wrapped around yours. The Skywalker twins giggled as they turned it into an impromptu arm wrestle competition and beat you easily. (You felt they were going to snap your finger off if they kept tightening their hold so you bowed out.) 

Anakin watched with hearts in his eyes and his head propped up in his hand, his eyes crinkled at the inherent domesticity of the act. 

Luke and Leia agreed to call their exhibition match a draw. 

The sun had already set by the time you got home. You were so tired that you nearly dropped your keys down the stairwell; you didn’t want to spend your night fishing them out of the grass.The wicker basket in your arms was at risk of falling too but you got your door opened and you crumpled on the loveseat.

 “Oof, I should probably get this sorted out now or I'll just forget about it.” You said as your body protested you moving a single inch from your sunken spot. 

You grabbed your emerald green pair of scissors and cut the top of the plastic wrap off.The wrapping  squealed as you tore it off the rest of the basket. You peered into it and thankfully it looked like a run of the mill teacher’s appreciation gift; for a valentine’s day it was a little strange but since it was from Anakin… you’d slip on your rose colored glasses. 

There was a medium sized teddy bear, a couple three wick candles; your favorite was the one that smelled like the conversation hearts candy. There was also a custom made box of chocolates from the bakery you frequented, and three burgundy roses that you trimmed properly before dropping them in the vase on your kitchen island. 

The ‘world’s best teacher’ stood out like a sore thumb but it made you smile anyway. 

The teddy bear was incredibly fluffy and bubblegum pink; it’s holding a sparkly red heart with the word ‘princess’ sewed in hot pink thread in the center. You swept the fur away from its black eyes so it could see. The bear was pretty cute, and you had a problem handling your stuffed animal addiction, so you headed to your bedroom and laid it down with the rest of your plushies. 

You yawned and your mouth stretched like a goldfish when it does the same thing. The strings of your red cardigan came undone by your hands and you let it slide off of you and hit the floor. Your pink ribbed top joined it when you gathered enough energy to give a damn and move your arms. 

Your white bra was so plain but like hell if it didn’t make the man palming himself over his jeans rock hard. The kids were sound asleep in bed and the walls were thick so he could be as loud as he wanted. But this particular session wasn’t about achieving some grand climax. No. He just wanted to take things slow tonight. If he happened to gradually tumble over the edge along the way, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Anakin loved you, every inch of your body would soon be blissfully aware of that. 

The miniscule camera in the dot above the i in Princess loved you just as much. 

The fire that would wait to invite itself in for a surprise visit until you had left for work loved you more. 

a/n: i had this in the drafts for a bit but i was having a moment so i didn’t post it until now. happy valentine's day 💞

[otakuworks]

❛ 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒. angst w/fluff

feat. Caelus x GN!Reader | wc. 1.6K

sum. fireflies are fleeting creatures, and so were his feelings for you. . . or so you thought

cw. 2.0 spoilers, some intended lore inaccuracies but nothing major

note. no firefly slander in here, just some angsty thoughts I got after finishing 2.0 before bed

main.mlist hsr.mlist

Ambiguous relationships are unstable, often leads to misunderstandings. The balance that had been barely maintained by not invading each other's territory and not interfering with each other's business had begun to shake. With the appearance of a variable called Firefly. Disorganized thoughts strewn like scratches in your head.

"Caelus, how can you be certain she's trustworthy if she's hiding something from you?"

"I never said she was, she has her reasons if she doesn't want to tell me, but I'm inclined to help her now that she's in danger."

He never spared you a glance as he stalked to his room.

I was in danger once yet you never came to my aid. What's so special about her? Was your bitter thought.

There were so many questions you want to ask him. If you had tried to count them, you would have run out of fingers and toes. But when you opened your mouth, what came out was utter nonsensical question.

"What makes you so inclined to help her?"

He finally stopped and gaze over his shoulder. "She's important to me."

. . . And I'm not?

You're shakened, but his golden eyes were utterly calm. It would be absurd to tell this man to forget her and stay by your side. The idea of fleeing was anathema to him.

You don't even know the girl, but based on his descriptions prior she's exactly the type of girl he would go for and it's enough to add salt on your unrequited love.

It's obvious you two like each other that even March was able to pick up the tension, but you both remained on the neutral ground and never fessed up.

Meanwhile, Black Swan's knowing gaze traversed on your distraught ones as you follow the Trailblazer on his way back to the Dreamscape. She knows the moment she looked, conflicting feelings who are yet to be acknowledged are now catching up.

Once Caelus entered his room, the Memokeeper turned to you.

"One with a sincere heart prevails, young one. He's yet to be aware of your burgeoning feelings, having the initiative might help you with your current predicament." She advised.

You barely glanced at her as you downcast your eyes. "And endure the plausible rejection now that he has her? I'd rather be colored in green."

She chuckled. "Green with envy doesn't suit anyone. It's strange to me how certain you are with your prediction."

Sighing, you turned to meet up with the special guest whom he invited you to have a chat.

"I'll head first. Take care of him, although he can do most part of it, it wouldn't hurt to have another shield."

Black Swan merely smiled as she watched you walk away with a heavy heart. Ah young ones, always so blindsided with things that hinder them to confess.

"Apologies for the delay, your friend told me about their plans to meet with the IPC ambassador before going in the Dreamscape."

Caelus, who was about to dive in, halted at his steps and his shoulders stiffened. For a brief moment, the Memokeeper witnessed the renowned Intergalactic Baseballer summoning his grey bat.

"Aventurine? Why would they meet up with him?" Was his immediate response with furrowed eyebrows and clenched fists.

"That, I do not know. You can wait and ask them once we're done with the mission."

Who ever said he's a patient guy?!

"Well, my friend. What do you say?"

You groaned upon gracing your eyes with reality and a peacock suddenly greeted you by the tub. No wait, it's just the IPC representative.

"I-I must discuss the details with the others first before making a decision." You clutched the rim the of the tub to balance yourself from that disgruntling experience.

Transition sucks the most.

"Don't worry, I can wait but try not to make it long."

Honestly, you don't even know the reason why he's seeking you out for this. It was Caelus at first and now he's interested in doing business with you.

You're tempted to ask him but it might lead to a longer conversation and you want nothing more than to relax for a moment without sleeping.

You heard Aventurine bid his temporary farewell, but you failed to notice him stopping right at the exit before shaking his head. You were too focused on alleviating the dizziness that you failed to focus the shadow framing you

"What did he want with you?" Your blood froze right there and then

"Shouldn't that be my question? What are you doing here, in my room?" You couldn't look up at him and can only look on his knees which are the same level as your eyes.

Look up and you would see every emotion to exist on his face.

It came by a blur, you were sitting in the tub and the next you heard the water splashing followed by being engulfed by someone warm and sturdy.

He's hugging you.

You blinked once and twice.

Caelus' hugging you.

If you can even call it a hug when you feel your bones cracking.

It's not a foreign act, you've hugged once in awhile but it's usually with the four of you; Dan Heng, March and him. You've never exclusively hugged before so this notion surprised you.

"Caelus?" You softly called out as he buried his face in your hair.

"Nothing remains with me. My memories and past companies, I couldn't grasp them. Now I'm graced with so many friends, I'm always afraid everything will slip away once more and I'll be an empty shell you met in the Space Station." His voice is unusually mellowed, it reminds you of a child complaining about school.

You let yourself relaxed and surround him with your warmth as well and right at that moment you feel him abandoning his weight.

He wants to say more, however the recent events seemed to have an invisible force squeezing his heart and preventing him from talking, but it doesn't stop his tears from flowing.

I don't want to lose you, too.

He wants to say those to you, but his heavy heart and parched throat reign supreme. So he bared himself and cried to you, letting himself vulnerable in front of you, hoping that would be the bridge to convey his feelings that words cannot express at the moment.

©OTAKUWORKS_2024

[blackbirdsblackberries]

AQUIRING A ZOO

Chapter 1: A Ruff Day for two

Damian is humiliated. Who wouldn't be? Joker had teamed up with a bunch of other villains and had stolen a magical device that turns people into animals - why? Damian doesn't know!

While fighting however he was split from the rest of the family and hit with the ray.

You want to guess what animal he got the luck of turning into?

If you guessed a Yorkshire Terrier then you'd be correct.

It's not that Damian doesn't like the animal, he adores all animals no matter what, it's just offensive that that's what he ended up being. Couldn't he have been something cooler? A Doberman? A German Shepherd?

Whatever... Either way he is now wondering the streets trying not to get picked up by strangers - or stepped on for that matter.

While lost in thought about how he will get back to normal and whether his family are okay he didn't see the pair of legs standing in front of a closed shop.

He bumps into them, as soon as he does he dashes back and starts to growl - it's really all he can do.

He looks up at the figure who looks more confused than anything, they have a phone in their hand and pajamas on. They look half asleep.

Damian quickly deducts that the person was harmless.

Honestly, Damian was ready to just leave, walk around this person, yet when he attempted to a loud bang filled the air.

He swears it was the dog instincts, that it wasn't his own instincts, that made him run behind the person.

He's Damian Wayne! An al Ghul for crying out loud! No way is he scared of an explosion, even if it was even louder as a dog.

The person reacts slowly, clearly extremely tired. They turn to look at Damian and after a couple seconds they speak up, pulling Damian from his fight or flight response.

"Poor puppy... Are you lost?" The person bends down and slowly and carefully pats Damian. Damian is tempted to bite the person's hand off but refrains in case they call the pound.

"your coat is so well taken care of... Not to mention the fact that you're a handbag dog. You must belong to one of the wealthy elites... That part of town is so far away from here though, poor thing" their voice is soft, clearly tired. They yawn slightly.

"it's pretty late right now so the pound is probably closed, I'll take you tomorrow to check for a microchip because I don't see a collar."

Damian wishes he could scoff as a dog. Why would this stranger help him? Especially the breed he is. They're noisy, skittish and more, definitely not the type for run down apartments that this person definitely lives in.

Yet, he doesn't bite or growl when they pick him up. He squirms slightly in discomfort but soon enough they hold him properly.

Fine. He'll stay the night then in the morning he'll make his way back to Wayne Manor and find his family.

You have decided that your luck is absolute shit. It has to be. You're pretty sure whatever god is watching is purposefully planning your demise.

First, your lover of three years cheats on you.

Second, you fail two of your exams and forgot to hand in an assignment.

Third, your favorite convenience store closed early so you couldn't buy a tub of cheap ice cream so you can act out how a person in a movie would react to all of the above.

Fourth, a dog stumbles into you, clearly from some wealthy douche and now you've spoken before you thought and moved before you could comprehend.

Your landlord is going to have your head. A great way to end the shit show of a day, not to mention Yorkshire Terrier's are the most yap filled dogs imaginable. Luckily this one is quiet... Hopefully for the rest of the night.

You look down at your phone in your other hand, you were messaging your dad to ask for more money because you were recently fired from your last job.

It's not like you like asking others for money, it's embarrassing, but your dad is well off enough to send some over.

You and your family are stable, something a lot of people in Gotham can't relate to. Sucks to be them you guess.

The only reason you're living alone is because they live in Metropolis and you were studying at Gotham University.

Was the degree worth living in this dump of a city? You sure hope so. If not you'll actually become a villain.

You glance at the dog from time to time, checking for any discomfort. The dog is still, eyes blinking occasionally. Was it in thought? You didn't think dogs would think like that.

Eventually you make it to your apartment complex, it was better than the one next to it, but to be fair the one next to it was abandoned after a fire.

You head upstairs to your apartment on the third floor.

Turns out the higher the apartment from the ground is, the higher it will cost. Luckily for you your mother is paying for it, you just pay utility bills.

You struggle with your keys and the dog in your arms. Eventually though you open the door and all but throw the dog down, he was super heavy.

That or you just weren't used to holding anything that breathes.

The dog walks in and sniffs around.

"I suppose I should name you.." You speak aloud, closing the front door of the apartment and walking to the kitchen right next to it.

"how about... Buddy?" The dog huffs.

"No? Okay uhm... What are dog names? Give me a second." You search up dog names and click on an article.

"Uh, Oreo?" A huff.

"Max?" A huff.

You continue going down the list before groaning.

"Fuck me... Forget it, I'll put on the TV and the first name I see will be your name."

You grab the remote and turn on your shitty old TV. The news pops up, one of the headlines reading:

Robin seen being hit with animal ray!

"huh... What about Robin?" The dog rolls it's eyes but doesn't seem to object. You smile, relieved.

"Good. Robin it is."

[devoutekuna]

100%

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

A/N: sorry for the delay

Sukuna-

His daughter 100% inherits most of his traits compared to yours, despite being the king of curses, the man could sleep anywhere as long as he had nobody watching him. Fortunately for him his daughter inherited that which was a pleasure for him as she just needed to put her head on something soft to pass out. "Get up" poking at the little girl, she was fast asleep on his chest, her whole body curled up in the fetal position as she slept, maybe it was comforting for her? Kissing his teeth at the fact that he now couldn't move from this position since he would wake her with so much movement.

Nanami-

He couldn't understand why his daughter was so sucked into the art of shadow puppets, after camping she discarded her love for cartoons and moved on. Now he's got to do a silly play atleast once a day so that she could fall asleep, though it never lasted long since she was always asleep 3 minutes into it. Walking back home just to find your husband and daughter fast asleep Infront of the flashlight, his hands still in the same position to make a bird, fortunately that meant you didn't need to try and put her to bed.

Geto-

Despite how much he hates having to wash his hair and maintain in, he refuses to cut it as it was a signature look of his and he couldn't imagine himself having a different style. That's why he always opts for it in a bun or braids whenever he's at home working or cooking. He never wants to braid it though, so he always asks his girls for help.

"Do you want bows daddy?" Peeking into the corner of his eye as she held onto the few strands of hair. "Do what you want baby" allowing the twins to have full control. He just hoped that they didn't mess up his hair.

Gojo-

Preparing a bath wasn't the hard part, it was the fact that he got so carried away and got in himself and now too comfortable to leave the tub. Resulting in him fall asleep, fortunately for him, his son was on guard, resulting in the toddler jumping into the bathtub to scare him. "Cannon ball!" The backsplash of water hitting his face, instantly waking the man up.

Toji-

Toji 100% volunteers to go grocery shopping just so he can buy his favourite treats for him and his girls, mainly himself though as he barley got to eat his junk food since he married you. Taking his baby girl into the store with him as he held her, keeping her from running away. Unfortunately for him she was very persistent when it came to getting things she wanted, this time she wanted to go see the toys, forcing herself out of her father's arms as she ran towards the aisle. Soon after finalizing his checkout, he was already leaving with the food. Arriving back home with the goods only to be bombarded with questions from you. Succumbing to his thoughts as he remembered his poor baby girl left at the store, fortunately for him his daughter was too immersed into the toys to even realise half an hour passed.

[daytaker]

The Gang Have Bath Time

Or;

Headcanons About Everybody's Bathing Routine (SFW)

Lucifer

He likes his showers either very hot or very cold. For Lucifer, bath time is efficient, precise, and quick; not a drop of water is wasted. His showers last exactly 4 minutes and 38 seconds. In that time he washes his face, shampoos, washes his body, and starts brushing his teeth. Teeth-brushing continues at the sink. There's no reason to waste the space or time between the shower and the sink.

Mammon

Mammon is the kind of guy who forgets he's in the shower because he's belting out the classics and the acoustics in the bathroom are amazing. He never takes less than ten minutes in the shower, and he usually takes over fifteen. He likes hot showers and sometimes just stands under the water enjoying himself for the first five minutes he's in there. He also takes his sweet time after showering to do other important things before he leaves the bathroom, like putting on that face cream Asmo gave him or making funny faces in the mirror.

Leviathan

Levi prefers baths to showers. He likes to get fully immersed in the water. How can you really feel clean otherwise? He isn't picky about the water temperature, though he prefers it not to be especially hot. He sometimes hums or has quiet, one-sided conversations while he's bathing. He often gets distracted daydreaming in the tub, but if anyone knocks and yells at him for taking too long, he'll step on the gas and be out in less than three minutes, glaring daggers at whoever was waiting.

Satan

Satan doesn't like showering, so he does it quickly and not always very thoroughly. Get in, get wet, something something soap, get out. He hates the feeling of having wet hair so much that he let Asmo blow dry it once. (Only once. He didn't make that mistake again.) If he thinks he can get away with skipping a shower, he will.

When he was newly created, he refused to bathe. He would not do it. That looks like it sucks. No thanks. So all of his brothers besides Lucifer and Asmo went on strike and stopped bathing until he couldn't stand it anymore and hopped in a shower. Now he understands why it's necessary.

Asmodeus

Asmo, obviously, spends the most time in the bathroom by a pretty huge margin. Since he has his own bathroom, this doesn't cause problems with his brothers, so he'll spend upwards of an hour luxuriating in a rosewater bath and applying a whole cabinet of skincare products. Not because his skin isn't flawless, but you know what they say: an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of Botox. He's extremely thorough in how he cleans himself, and if you're curious, you can ask him, and he'll give you a blow-by-blow description of the entire process, lingering lovingly on each body part.

Beelzebub

Beel thinks showers are fine, but if he was left to himself, he'd definitely forget to take them half the time. Belphie or Lucifer usually remind him when it's time he needs to shower, then he goes and does it without a complaint.

Beel likes relatively cool showers, and he doesn't spend any unnecessary time in the bathroom. Sometimes he'll forget to shampoo, but who cares, right?

Belphegor

Belphie is very ambivalent about bathing. He's annoyed when he has to do it, but when he does, he'll hole up in the bathroom for an hour and soak in the tub. About 4 out of 5 times, he'll fall asleep, which frustrates Beel because that's how people drown, Belphie. He likes nice, warm baths best, but sometimes he'll take a hot shower when he needs to feel more awake.

Diavolo

Diavolo sings in the shower, loudly and not particularly well. It's a few precious minutes he has to relax over the course of a very stressful day of putting everyone else's needs above his own. His showers would be unbearably hot even for most demons, but for him, they're the perfect temperature to unwind. He doesn't dawdle, but he doesn't force himself to move too quickly either. He appreciates how to most effectively use his time, and a few extra minutes in the bathroom each morning can keep him alive for an extra half hour of work in the evening.

Barbatos

Barbatos is always immaculately clean, but has never been seen to bathe. Scholars are not quite sure how he does it.

Solomon

Solomon forgets to shower fairly often, since he gets distracted by much more important things, like testing out a new incantation or experimenting in the kitchen. He prefers a quick cleanliness spell to a full shower if he thinks he can get away with it, but it's a little like skipping a shower and just applying deodorant; it helps, but how much, really? When he does take a conventional shower, he likes the water to be cool.

Simeon

Simeon showers at the same time every night. He likes the water to be nice and warm, but not hot, and he uses fruit-scented soap and shampoo. His showers take just about five minutes, and he spends the time humming to himself and planning the next day.

Luke

Luke would like you to know that he takes showers, not baths, thank you very much, because he is not a child, but a thousand-year-old celestial entity with enough dignity to clean himself without a rubber ducky by his side. (Doth he protest too much? Probably.)

[stevie-petey]

episode seven: the bathtub

Steve sighs, “I just… I wanna help.” Maybe it’s his black eye or the pathetic way Steve says he wants to help, but the man comes down the ladder and hands him the dirty rag he had been using. “All yours.” Steve takes his jacket off and accepts the rag and climbs up, ready to get to work. He really does want to help, he has been trying to help. And Steve just really hopes that you can see his efforts someday, maybe even soon. He’s had a really rough week.

summary: your brother basically places himself on the fbi's most wanted list and el flips a van with her mind, now you have to create a giant salt tub because of course you do, nancy tries Talking About It but hasn't she read the title ? you don't have the time. sidenote: you've somehow become a steve defender during these trying times. typical. meanwhile: steve's inner thoughts are pathetic.

rating: general, some swearing

warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/b, implications of death and violence

words: 10.2k

before you swing in: hello ! long time no see, i apologize :/ working while im home for winter break and my hours suck, but we move on ! heres chapter 7, she was a pain to write because it was more complex than i thought, but i love her dearly </3 enjoy !

-

When you finally get to the police station, exhausted and sweaty from running, an angry blond woman is following after Hopper as he guides Joyce, Nancy, and Jonathan towards his cruiser.

“Aren’t you going to do anything about that toothless kid and his weird friends?” She screams at the officer, but he just ignores her and instructs the others to get into the car.

A toothless kid and his weird friends? Gee, you wonder who the woman could be talking about.

You get to the car right as Hopper has started the engine. You knock on the window and he sighs when he sees it’s you. He rolls down the window. “Why is it always you?”

“I think it’s time you learn that wherever he goes,” you point towards Jonathan, who smiles at the chief, and then you point at yourself. “I go.”

“She’s right.” Joyce mumbles from the passenger seat.

Hopper places his head in his hands and sighs once more. “We don’t have time for this. Step away from the car. Now.”

You blink. “I’m sorry?”

“Leave, go home.”

Jonathan speaks up from the backseat. “Hopper, she has to come with us–”

“Where the hell are you guys going? Weren’t you arrested?” You ask, now even more confused.

“Not arrested, just detained.” Joyce corrects.

The officer groans. “Does any of this matter? We need to leave, now.”

“We can leave as soon as you let me in the car.”

Hopper stares at you. “You have no idea what you’re walking into, kid.”

“Try me.”

“Step away from the car–”

“The ‘toothless kid’ that the crazy woman shouted about is my brother!” You shout, entirely over this entire conversation. Like hell this bitter old man is going to stop you from following wherever Jonathan goes. Especially if Dustin is involved somehow.

“I told you, no-”

“I can and will hop on the hood of this damn car if you don’t let me in within the next five seconds.”

Hopper laughs. “Sure ya will.”

“One,” you begin counting.

“That’s not going to work.”

“Two,”

“Uh, Hopper?” Jonathan speaks up. “She’ll do it, you know.”

“Three,”

Hopper doesn’t listen, and now Joyce is getting annoyed. “Hop, just let her in.”

“I kind of want to see her jump on the hood.” Nancy says, causing Jonathan to laugh.

“Four,” you walk to the front of the car and pop your foot up, getting ready to start climbing. If Hopper thinks you aren’t being serious, then that’s his own damn fault. He starts shouting at you to knock it off while Joyce pleads with him to listen to you. Jonathan tries to get out of the car, but Hopper has locked them in. Everyone is arguing and yelling and you’re just ready to say fuck it and straddle a cop car.

Right before you can jump entirely onto the hood of the car, Nancy lurches from the back seat and screams through Hopper’s window, “Y/N, just tell the man about El!”

Everyone freezes; no one says a single word. Slowly, you lower your leg and walk over to the driver’s window once more while Hopper just stares at you. You can’t exactly read the look on his face, but if you had to guess, it’d be something like of course this kid knows about El.

“Who the hell is El?” He demands as soon as you’re back in front of the window.

“Buzzed hair, nose bleeds when she uses her powers, and hangs out with my brother and his friends. Ring any bells?” You ask, a slight smirk on your face because you know you’ve won. Bless Nancy’s quick thinking.

Hopper’s face drops and he lets out a tired sigh. “So, you know about the girl?”

You snort. “Yeah, I know about her. Better yet: I've met her, and I know something awful is about to happen. Let me into the goddamn car. Now.”

The two of you have a stare down for a couple seconds before he finally gives in and unlocks the door. “You’re the worst in the group.”

“Oh, just wait until you hang out with my brother. Now, let’s go for a drive, shall we?”

–

The slight amusement you felt earlier quickly dissipates as Hopper explains everything going on. He explains El, who is really named Jane, and how he had found her mom and learned that some guy named Brenner was conducting experiments on her while she was pregnant. Thus, he created El and her powers and ultimately kidnapped her, leaving her mother to believe that she was dead. Now El has escaped, causing Will’s disappearance, and unfortunately some other horrible consequences.

Said consequences include driving to Nancy’s house because this Brenner guy apparently really wants El back and has gone as far as faking a twelve year old’s dead fucking body. Now he’s currently tracking her and the boys down.

Who knew Hawkins could have anything as exciting as a shady lab and actual men in black coats?

“Y/N, I need you to tell me everything you know about this girl,” Hopper demands, glaring at you from the rearview mirror as you sit between Nancy and Jonathan.

You do as you’re told, but admittedly there’s not much to tell him. Sure, you know El and have spent some time with her now, but other than that you’re still a bit lost yourself. The details are fuzzy in your mind, a picture has almost formed, but not quite.

As you’re struggling to explain more about the Upside Down to a very frustrated Hopper and a concerned Joyce, a parade of Hawkins Power and Light vans fly past the car and turn onto Nancy’s block. Once again, everyone in the car goes quiet.

“Neighborhood power outage?” You ask, really hoping you’re right, but worry is now creeping in. God, you really need to just stop leaving the kids alone after this week. Dustin was just supposed to see Mike, apologize to Lucas, and have a nice conversation about how friendship is magical and all that bullshit.

It doesn’t look like they did that.

Hopper suddenly jerks the car into a different neighborhood and speeds down the block. The speed scares you and Jonathan grabs your hand, sensing your growing unease. Then, the car brakes and you’re thrown forward by the momentum. “Fuck!”

“Sorry, honey.” Joyce murmurs to you, but the view in front of you catches your attention.

Hopper has brought you guys to an overlook of Nancy’s neighborhood with a perfect view of her house being surrounded by a bunch of expensive cars and men in suits carrying items out from her basement. You see one man holding a stack of your comics with one of Dustin’s old hats on top.

You want to throw up.

Nancy reacts no better than you do and immediately bolts out the car, Hopper and Joyce not far behind her. The man whips out a pair of binoculars and scopes out the scene while Nancy just stands there, stunned. She begins to speak to him, demanding to go into her house, but he doesn’t let her.

You’re left alone with Jonathan in the car and you feel your own panic begin to settle in. Seeing all the cars, the fucking helicopters, after your baby brother… You really, really want to throw up.

You feel yourself begin to spiral. You think about how you’d left Will alone to bike home and how, because of you, he never made it back. Instead he got taken by a monster that’s big enough to kill a fucking deer. Will, small and sweet Will, is gone because of your inability to keep those you love safe.

And now Dustin and the boys are facing the same fate, all because of your stupidity. You left them alone, again, after they’ve spent the entire week sneaking off and getting into trouble. You have no reason to be surprised by their actions. You’re not an idiot, you should’ve known better.

You should’ve known better than to listen to Jonathan about not taking Will home. You should’ve known better about letting the boys explore those woods the night you found El. You should’ve reported the missing girl, called the cops, anything else rather than help hide her.

But because of your stupid, stupid, need to take care of everyone around you, to please everyone no matter what it may cost you, you’re in a cop car as your brother is being hounded down by what appears to be the goddamn FBI.

This is all your fault.

Hopper is saying something to Nancy now, there’s a commotion outside the car door and you know you should go out there and help, but you can’t. Jonathan, seeing the argument outside as well, turns to tell you that he’ll go and help, but stops when sees how pale you’ve gotten and that your leg is bouncing wildly.

He’s known you for years; he knows what you look like right before you have a complete breakdown.

He grabs you and you find yourself engulfed within his chest. His hands come up to your hair and he runs his fingers through it in a way that’s always calmed you down. You find yourself beginning to cry at the tenderness.

“I’m here, bug.” Jonathan whispers the words with his chin tucked atop of your head. He runs a hand up and down your back, drawing small patterns to try and distract you. You don’t fucking deserve the kindness.

You tighten your arms around him, afraid that he’ll slip away just like everything else has. “This is all my fault.”

“You’re crazy if you think that.”

“I was… I was in over my head.” A few tears slip out and you don’t bother to wipe them away. Instead, you bury your head deeper into Jonathan’s chest, ashamed. “This entire time, I should’ve–I needed to be better and I–I wasn’t, bee.”

Your words slur together as more tears come, but Jonathan is able to understand you regardless. He slides a hand up and under your chin, gently coaxing your head up so that he can look you in the eye. “None of this is your fault. You hear me?”

“But–”

“No. Without you, those boys would probably be dead by now. Nancy and I included. You’re the glue holding everything together, you know more than anyone else involved.”

Jonathan’s eyes burn yours, he’s so sure of his words but you know they aren’t true. You pull away from him and try to collect yourself. “There’s an entire swat team ready to hurt my baby brother… I fucked up, Jonathan.”

“Still up for debate, but if you really feel that way, then I’ll help you fix it. It’s as simple as that.” Jonathan shrugs, saying the words so simply, without any doubt or hesitation. He has such confidence in you, and you know he shares the same thought that you do: together, the two of you can do anything.

You think about your birthday gift from Will, with you and Jonathan battling a dragon together with the boys, and the thought brings you comfort. Together, you and the boys will get through this one way or another. You’re sure of that much, at least.

Plus, you have El and Nancy now.

You wipe away a few more tears and manage a smile, now feeling a bit better “Thank you, bee.”

He smiles back at you and ruffles your hair. “Any time, bug.”

The moment between you is broken by Hopper throwing Nancy into the backseat, cruelly bringing you back to reality. The boys, they’re in danger. Hopper turns to face the three of you with a crazed look in his eyes. “Look, we need to find them before they do.”

“The kids?” You stupidly ask.

“No, we’re looking for Santa’s reindeer.” Hopper deadpans, which you honestly had coming. “Yes, the kids. Do you have any idea where they might have gone?”

“No, I don’t!” Nancy still looks shaken up and you and Jonathan don’t look much better.

“I need you to think.” Hopper presses.

Nancy lets out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know. We haven’t talked a lot. I mean… lately.”

“What about you, Y/N?” Joyce asks, her voice a bit more gentle than Hopper’s.

You wrack your brain for where the kids may have gone, but with all your exhaustion and overwhelming feelings, you can’t come up with anything. Your brain is fried. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Byers.”

“Is there any place that your guys’ parents don’t know about that they might go?”

You and Nancy look at each other for ideas, but you both end up drawing a blank and shake your heads at Joyce. She sighs, but seems to be more understanding. You really wish you could be of more use, but besides Mike’s house, the kids don’t really go anywhere except…

“The junkyard!” You exclaim, throwing yourself forward in your excitement.

“What?” Hopper asks, his interest now is on you.

“The boys went there yesterday with El, they had a fight and–”

Hopper cuts you off. “I don’t need the petty details, just tell me where this junkyard is.”

“I… can’t.” You deflate now, realizing that you have no idea how to access this damn random field in Hawkins. It’s not really an official junkyard, just an area with leftover cars and trash piled up over the years. The boys have never taken you there, it had been the one spot they’d kept all to themselves.

“You can’t?” The man questions, his usual annoyance with you is present once again.

Before an inevitable argument breaks out, Jonathan speaks up. “I don’t know what Y/N is talking about, but I think I know how to ask the kids.”

–

When you get to Jonathan’s to look for Will’s walkie, you’re a bit car sick from Hopper’s damn speeding. You get that this is an urgent matter, but holy shit you feel ill.

You, Jonathan, Joyce, and Nancy hop out the car and start heading towards Will’s room. Jonathan and Joyce guide the way and you’re right behind them until you see Nancy stop in the living room.

“Woah,” she breathes out, examining the room around her. You forget that she’s only been a part of your life for a few days now and hasn’t yet seen the state of chaos that is Jonathan’s house.

“Yeah, welcome to the Byers home.” You say, grabbing her hand to tug her along.

When you get to Will’s room, Jonathan is digging through his drawers while Joyce is on the floor searching underneath his bed. You immediately walk over to the closet and begin sifting through his numerous boxes of comics and drawings.

“I got it!” Joyce announces from under the bed and scrambles into the living room with the walkie in her hand.

You follow after her and sit next to her on the couch. Jonathan stands next to you while Nancy is on your right and Hopper is by the door. Joyce fiddles with the walkie. “Okay, now what?”

“I’ll talk to them.” Nancy says, but you shake your head at her.

“No offense, but I think they’ll respond to me better. I mean, they like me.” Hopper snorts across the room and you close your eyes. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

Nancy bites her lip but eventually nods, thankfully understanding what you meant. “Yeah, okay. You should go first, then. They’ve always listened to you more than me.”

Joyce hands you the walkie and you thank her. You look at Hopper and hold the walkie up. “Anything I should specifically say?”

“No, just find out where they are and we’ll go from there.” He commands.

You nod and take a deep breath, silently praying that the idiots will respond both for your own sanity and pride. Exhaling, you bring the walkie to your lips. “Dustin, it’s Y/N. Do you copy?”

Silence, no one responds on the other end and you feel everyone’s eyes on you. “They’re paranoid right now, okay?”

Joyce reassures you that it’s fine while Hopper groans, unimpressed. You silently curse Dustin, who would choose right now to embarrass you and not listen.

You take another deep breath and try again. “Hello? Earth to Dustin and co? Guys, it’s me and I really need you to respond. Immediately. I will start crying if I need to.”

Again, more silence follows. You want to scream and throw the walkie across the damn room, but you keep your composure and try one last time and square your shoulders. You’re aware of Jonathan and the others in the room with you, so you’re dreading having to say this, but you know it’s the only way to get them to respond. ”Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and possibly El: what you’re about to hear is private and so incredibly embarrassing but obviously I have to prove that I’m me so you idiots respond.”

Jonathan’s eyes widen. “You’re not really going to confess to–”

You shush him and keep talking. “Dustin, remember when mom told you that Mews peed on my bed and that’s why I had to stay in your room for the night last year? Well, surprise! It was me. I peed the bed because I had a nightmare after you made me watch Friday the 13th.”

Nancy makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a laugh covered up by a cough and Joyce herself stifles a laugh. Hopper doesn’t even try to hide his laugh and you just really wish the ground would swallow you up. All Jonathan can do is offer you a pitying smile. This is fucking mortifying.

And yet: no one answers.

You let out a frustrated groan. “Listen to me! Either you answer or I have a very annoyed and rude Hopper who would be more than glad to interrogate you boys himself. This is your last chance–”

“Ya know, you really should’ve just used Hopper as a threat from the start. We would’ve listened.” Mike’s voice comes through the walkie, causing you to sigh out with relief.

“Yeah, now we know you peed your pants at fifteen.” Lucas adds.

Then Dustin’s voice carries through. “I’m ashamed to be related to you, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Dustin. You’ve always had my back.”

Hopper takes the walkie from you and heads towards his car while demanding directions from Mike. He leaves without saying another word to everyone else, simply leaving you with Joyce, Nancy, and Jonathan to wait for his return with the kids.

You wring your hands together, unsure what to do in this situation. So, you do what’s familiar to you; you take care of those around you. “Mrs. Byers, do you still have my baking supplies here?”

–

Steve was having a rough week.

It started with finding you crying in the middle of the road while you were on your bike. At first, he hadn’t been sure it was you, but as you had biked closer and almost hit him, he knew then that you were indeed Y/N Henderson. When you swerved into a ditch to avoid hitting him, Steve did what any rational person would do.

He helped you.

You had been hesitant of him at first, nervous and guarded and Steve couldn’t blame you. Up until then, the two of you hadn’t had the best interactions. He’d always seen you around in the hallways at school, knew about your obsession with comics and Spider-man, and he knew how kind you could be and had witnessed first hand how devoted you were to helping anyone you could, regardless of who they were.

When Steve was in eighth grade and you were in seventh, Carol had bled through her pants and Tommy had been laughing at her and calling her disgusting. Steve hadn’t been much better, honestly, the two of them had reacted how any other idiotic thirteen year olds would. When Carol started to cry, Steve finally felt bad and told Tommy to knock it off and help his girlfriend. It started a whole argument between the two of them, but as they were bickering you swooped in and offered to escort Carol to the bathroom.

He had watched as you delicately took the girl’s hand and said something soft and kind to her as you guys walked to the bathroom. A lanky boy, who had been with you, told you he’d wait by your bike while you were with Carol. You thanked him and then you were gone, the door to the girl’s bathroom closing behind you.

“Who was she?” Steve remembers asking Tommy. He’d been curious about you and your actions, because not even ten minutes before Carol had bled through her pants, she had been making fun of your scuffed sneakers in the lunchroom. She’d been especially viscous back then, and yet you hadn’t hesitated to help her.

“Y/N Henderson. She’s new, moved here a few weeks ago.”

Steve had kept watching the bathroom door, hoping to catch another glimpse of you. “And the boy?”

“Jonathan Byers.” Tommy snickered. “Poor family, complete nobodies. Guess Henderson likes a pity project.”

“Yeah. Guess so.” The door still hadn’t opened, so Steve sighed and motioned to Tommy to follow him. “C’mon, my mom hates waiting for us.”

So, yeah. Your very first interaction with Steve had been you watching him make fun of a poor girl experiencing her first ever period.

Not a very good first impression.

Ever since then, Steve had kept an eye on you. Maybe not consciously, but you’d always been in his peripheral. He’d seen all the times you helped someone, from teachers to the local stoner kid, Eddie Munson, who needed a pen for his exam so you’d given him your only one and ultimately couldn’t take your own exam. Steve had always wanted to ask if you regretted that, but he was sure you’d say no. It’s just what you did.

He watched as you and Byers grew closer, almost inseparable, and Steve decided that eventually the two of you would get together and live happily ever after. When your hair grew a bit longer and your scuffed sneakers turned into pretty mary janes, Steve figured it’d happen in no time.

Then Will disappeared and Steve had found you crying in a ditch after almost hitting his car with your bike, and everything seemed to change. He wasn’t exactly sure what, but he knew he wanted to make you smile. He’d never been alone with you before and he felt bad about Will; he knew how close you were with him, so he cracked a few jokes, pretended not to know who you were, and then you smiled at him for the very first time.

A real, true, beautiful smile that had left Steve breathless for a moment.

God, then you laughed and Steve swore he’d never heard something more genuine and pure. He had felt like a little kid on Christmas day, giddy over the fact that he had made you laugh at his stupid joke.

Immediately Steve was addicted. He vowed then and there to do whatever he could to help you, to get you to laugh and smile and flash him that annoyed look that seemed to make your eyes reflect everything good and lovely.

So he did.

Steve had helped you out of the ditch and watched as you biked away, lingering until he was sure you’d be safe. He had invited you to his house for a party, figuring that maybe you’d enjoy a distraction from life. Sure, you had rebuffed him pretty harshly, but he had deserved it. He had been an ass to Byers.

But then Byers had taken pictures of his naked girlfriend and Steve’s world had felt like it’d been flipped upside down. How dare he? Byers was yours, everyone knew that. Hell, the entirety of Hawkins knew that. Why the fuck would he need to take pictures of Nancy, his Nancy, when he already had you? Not only was it creepy and invasive, but it was a major offense to someone as selfless as you.

Logically, Steve had to retaliate, it just wasn’t okay. He had told Tommy the plan and then before he knew it he ended up waiting by Byers’ car to confront him, and then alongside him had been you. Of course you’d been with him. Steve should’ve expected that.

He hadn’t wanted for you to get dragged into it so aggressively, but he also had to tell you the truth. Steve knew there was no way in hell that Byers had told you about the photos, so he had to be the one to break the news before anyone else could. It had killed him to see you so upset.

When Tommy threw you onto the ground, all Steve felt was rage. You weren’t supposed to be the one getting hurt, and yet somehow you were. It enraged him that he couldn’t do more to help, but before he knew it you were on the ground and he had rushed over to help.

He doesn’t remember much else that had happened next, but when your back pressed against his chest to avoid Byers, Steve had felt his heart flutter a bit. Again, he had felt like a little kid on Christmas day, giddy and excited and warm. You had needed him at that moment, so Steve helped.

“See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hard-wired into them. They just can’t help themselves.” He had placed his hand on your shoulder, a risky move he had been afraid would scare you away, but you stayed; you had been warm underneath his touch.

Steve hadn’t meant to break the camera, honest. It just kind of happened, his brain had been muddled by your presence. He felt bad about it, but Tommy had whooped all impressed and Carol had encouraged him on, so he had to pretend that it hadn’t bothered him.

But it had.

It had really, really bothered Steve.

He just wanted to help, to defend you, and yet he had gone too far. And he had felt awful about it.

So, when he had spotted you once again biking on the road, struggling up a massive hill the next day, Steve had figured that this was his chance to make it up to you. He thought that if he had offered you a ride, the two of you could talk. When you accepted, Steve had happily thrown your bike in the back and felt so fucking relieved. There was still a chance.

Then the two of you engaged in the banter that made Steve feel so alive and he knew that it’d all be okay, it had to be. He had teased you, gotten you to blush and laugh once more, and Steve felt like he was on top of the world being able to offer you some type of relief from the news of Will’s death. He had helped you, if even for a little while.

Somehow he had ended up confessing to you that he had been trying to make you laugh a few days prior, having pretended not to know your name. “Figured you wouldn’t want to talk about it and the least I could do was make you laugh. And voila, I did.”

He’ll always remember the shocked expression on your face, the way your eyes softened for a moment with vulnerability and Steve had found himself wanting to lean in closer to see if he could make you blush an even prettier red. He had refrained, though (barely).

But his good mood vanished when you had berated him about breaking Byers’ camera, which he had to admit was a selfish move on his end. He had already felt bad about it, but to hear you remind him that Byers didn’t have the money that Steve did, it hurt in a way he hadn’t been familiar with.

And yet, like you always seem to do to Steve, you had completely turned his mood around with only a few words.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

Your words had hit Steve harder than he would've ever thought possible. No one had ever told him that, not even his mother who always insisted on calling him her beautiful boy. Everyone always called Steve various names such as King Steve, the King, Steve “the hair” Harrington, and every possible way to complement his appearance, but no one had ever told him he was a good person.

You had called him “alright”, and those words had been on his mind for the rest of the day, creating a new warmth in his chest every time he thought them. You, Y/N Henderson, had thought Steve was “alright.”

It felt like he had won the goddamn lottery.

Until Nancy started acting weird and ditching plans with him for some mysterious “project”, which sucked. He hadn’t been sure what he did, but he was sure he’d done something to offend the girl. He always managed to do something to hurt those closest to him.

Imagine his surprise when he had driven to Nancy’s and spotted you, glowing in the moonlight and lovely as ever, looking for the girl as well. Pretty fucking convenient, huh? Something was up, Steve could feel it.

And boy, was he right.

There Byers had been, his arm draped over his girlfriend, sitting side by side in her bed without a singular care for the people they were hurting in the process. Typical.

Again Steve had felt that anger deep within him, the same anger from when he saw those pictures of Nancy, because how dare Byers? There you had been, standing underneath Steve, worried about Nancy because you’re the best damn person he’s ever met, and yet Byers had been abusing your kindness and trust for his own gain.

No.

Steve was livid.

“You deserve better, Y/N.” He regrets yelling at you and pushing you away, but Steve had been so overwhelmed with his anger. You deserved everything and more, why couldn’t anyone else see that? Why was Steve the only one who could see this?

Hell, anyone could hurt Steve. He wouldn’t care, he always deserved it in the end. He wasn’t nice or good or worth kindness, but you? Hurting someone like you, someone as selfless and wonderful and genuine, was goddamn unacceptable.

Steve did the only thing he knew: he had to hurt Byers and Nancy for hurting you.

So he did.

And fuck, Steve really wished that he hadn’t, because now he’s standing underneath the Hawk’s sign with a black eye and a bleeding lip and really wishing that you were here to remind him that he’s a good person.

He also really hopes that you still believe this.

Steve had only been trying to help you, to get you to see your own worth and recognize how much of an ass Byers and Nancy were to you. But you had run away, back to that asshole, and Steve had been left to clean up his own mess.

“Need a hand?” Steve calls up to Byers’ boss, who is on a ladder trying to scrub off the cruel spray painted taunts of Nancy.

The man looks down at Steve, his face twisting into a sneer. “Did you have something to do with this?”

Steve sighs, “I just… I wanna help.”

Maybe it’s his black eye or the pathetic way Steve says he wants to help, but the man comes down the ladder and hands him the dirty rag he had been using. “All yours.”

Steve takes his jacket off and accepts the rag and climbs up, ready to get to work. He really does want to help, he has been trying to help.

And Steve just really hopes that you can see his efforts someday, maybe even soon.

He’s had a really rough week.

–

The cookies only take you thirty minutes to make, which is way before Hopper is expected to be back with the kids, so you awkwardly hand out a plate of them to Joyce, Jonathan, and Nancy before sitting in between the teens and pulling out a comic.

Nancy hesitantly takes a bite, but her uncertainty melts into bliss. “Oh my god, these are delicious.”

“Y/N makes the best oatmeal raisin cookies, they’re insane.” Jonathan says with a mouthful of his own cookies.

“Thanks,” you say, flicking through the pages of your comic and trying to remember where you last left off. You keep an assortment of comics between Jonathan’s house and Nancy’s basement just in case you’re ever left with a need for one. Thankfully you’ve always planned ahead, because this latest issue of Spidey keeps you distracted as you wait for Hopper and the kids.

You’re doing your best to keep your anxiety at bay, but it’s hard. Baking has always calmed you, though tonight you’re still left feeling jittery. You’ve never been a patient person.

No one speaks as you wait, the clock on the Byers’ wall ticks away at a maddeningly slow pace. You try to focus on your comic, but it’s useless. Eventually you give up and flop your head onto Jonathan’s shoulder, frustrated and anxious.

The second you hear Hopper’s car pull into the driveway you sprint off the couch and run straight towards Dustin. He’s in your arms before he’s even had a chance to fully get out of the car. “Geesh, Y/N!”

You ignore his complaining and hold onto him tightly. He’s alive and safe and whole. Thank god.

Nancy does the same with Mike. “I was so worried about you!”

“Yeah, uh… me too?” Her brother mumbles back.

You snort at him and reluctantly pull away from Dustin to only then pull Lucas into a hug, which he hadn’t been expecting. You squeeze the other boy tight. “Where the hell did you guys run off to this time?”

Before they can explain, you see Nancy eyeing El and you immediately rush over to the girl and engulf her into a hug as well. You haven’t seen her in ages, you’ve missed her and she looks a mess. “El! God, look at you!”

“Is that my dress?” Nancy asks.

You inspect El’s dress and realize that yes, it is indeed an old dress of Nancy’s. You raise an eyebrow at the boys, silently asking for an explanation.

Dustin smiles and gives you a thumbs up. “Who’s ready for an update?”

–

All you’ve managed to learn tonight is that Will is the only one in the group with any artistic abilities.

Mike has drawn a horrible recreation of what Mr. Clark had explained to them at the funeral a few days ago, the whole tale about the flea and the acrobat. While the boy is explaining the situation to everyone else, all you do is wonder how the hell he couldn’t even draw a straight line.

“Okay, so in this example, we're the acrobat. Will and Barbara, and that monster, they’re this flea.” Mike points to below the line he’s so poorly drawn. “And this is the Upside Down, where Will is hiding.”

You’re sitting in between Jonathan and Joyce on the couch and notice their confused faces, causing you to sigh. “Oh, just wait.”

Mike glares at you but continues with his explanation. “Mr. Clark said the only way to get there is through a rip of time and space.”

“A gate.” Dustin adds.

“That we tracked to Hawkins Lab.” Lucas then finishes.

“Don’t forget the compasses.” You mumble, trying your best not to butt in too much. You’re not really sure how much you should disclose about the fact that you’ve been in on the boy’s adventure without informing the literal cop who is in the room.

Hopper, who is seated across from you, narrows his eyes at you.

Yeah. Best not to push it.

“Right, the compasses.” Dustin leans in closer to everyone to make sure they understand what he’s about to say. “The gate has a really strong electromagnetic field, and that can change the directions of a compass needle.”

“Is this gate underground?” Hopper now speaks up, though his eyes are still on you. El softly responds with a “yes” and the man doesn’t look too happy.

“Near a large water tank?”

“Yes,” El says softly again.

“You’ve been there.” You conclude, now holding onto Hopper’s gaze. Seems like you weren’t the only person keeping secrets, then.

Hopper doesn’t break eye contact. “Yes, I have. And you’ve been playing double agent.”

You shrug. “Didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

“You should’ve told the police, kid.”

“Like you would’ve believed me.”

“You let these kids run off on their own, does it really matter what I would’ve believed if I had known they’d be in danger?”

You can feel your anger beginning to resurface. You’ll never admit it to anyone, but Hopper manages to bring out an anger within you that only your father could do before. Facing him, you feel like a ten year old again screaming against her father. “I did what I could! I’d never intentionally bring them harm. Don’t ever imply otherwise again.”

“Y/N, Hopper, now isn’t the time.” Joyce interrupts, her face ashen. You feel your anger drain from you as it’s replaced with guilt. She’s right, now isn’t the time for petty arguments with a cop who has a weird vendetta against you.

Joyce then turns to El, her voice shaky and you grab her hand as she speaks. “Is there any way that you could… that you could reach Will? That you could talk to him in this–”

“The Upside Down.” El finishes for her and then gives her own response as a nod.

You notice Nancy nervously picking at her fingers, so you ask El your own question. “What about Barb? Do you think you can find her, honey?”

Nancy gives you a smile and mouths “thank you”; you nod your head at her, understanding.

Again, El nods and you let out a breath of relief. For the first time in days, it feels like you finally have a solid and functional plan. Things are finally starting to all come together and now it isn’t just you who has to glue the pieces down. You have help.

After the conversation you help set up everything El needs to contact Barb and Will. You help Nancy tear a picture of Barb and lay it on the table alongside a picture of Will. Mike has switched his walkie into static and the white noise seems to help the girl focus.

All of you crowd around El at the table, not saying a word. Joyce is seated while you and Jonathan stand behind her, each of you have a hand on her shoulder and she holds onto you both like her life depends on it.

You find yourself holding your breath as El closes her eyes and begins her process of contacting Will. You’re terrified that maybe this time she won’t find him, or worse… She’ll find him, but he’ll be long gone already. You’ve already come so fucking close, you’re worried that your luck will run out soon.

Static fills the air and the lights start to flicker. El opens her eyes; her face falls with despair and you immediately know that something has gone wrong before she even whispers, “I’m sorry.”

Joyce’s hand tightens around yours. “What? W–What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

El begins to cry and her voice breaks. “I can’t find them.

“Shh, it’s okay, honey.” You’re at the girl’s side in a heartbeat, crouched down so that you can look her in the eye as you try to soothe her. “Hey, look at me. You tried your best, it’s okay. I’m right here, my dear.”

While you comfort El, Jonathan comforts his mother. The two of you share a quick glance and through it you’re both able to convey the same message: I’ve got her, take care of the other. Without any other word, you gently guide El to the bathroom and tell her to take some time to herself and that you’ll be there for her when she’s ready.

“Thank you.” She mumbles, tears still in her eyes.

“Of course. Take all the time you need. None of this is your fault, okay? I need you to understand that.”

El nods before she closes the door, but you know she doesn’t believe you. You guess this is how Jonathan had felt earlier in the car when you confessed that everything was your fault and he’d tried reassuring you that it wasn’t. It isn’t easy convincing someone that they haven’t done anything wrong, not when they truly believe that they have.

You hear the faucet running in the bathroom, so you walk over towards the living room to check in on the others. Mike is explaining El’s powers when you catch the tail end of their conversation.

“Like, she flipped a van earlier.”

“El flipped a van?” You ask, staring at the boys in shock.

They all smile at you and Dustin eagerly shakes his head. “Yeah, it was awesome.”

“I left you alone for five hours, Dustin.”

“That was your first mistake.”

Now Mike butts in. “I also jumped off a cliff and El caught me midair with her powers.”

Your jaw drops. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Shut up, Mike.” Lucas nudges him with his shoulder. “What we’re saying is, she’s drained.”

“Like a dead battery.” Dustin confirms.

Joyce looks around helplessly. You know she’s doing everything she can to follow along. “Well… how do we make her better?”

“We don’t.” You say, having known El long enough to notice the limitations to her powers. As far as you’re aware, the only way for her to regenerate her strength is through rest. But who knows, maybe during those five hours you left the kids alone they somehow found a magical crystal that heals El.

Mike nods at you. “Y/N’s right, we don’t. We just have to wait and try again.”

“Well, how long?” Nancy is seated next to Joyce and she looks just as overwhelmed as the woman. Had you not had some time before this with El and the kids, you’d be equally as confused as them.

“I don’t know.” Her brother responds, head ducked in shame.

Suddenly El appears. “The bath.”

You run back over to her side and crouch down once more. “Hey, I told you to tell me when you were ready to come out. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes,” she smiles at you, and though she looks exhausted, you know it’s a genuine smile. “I can find them. In the bath.”

“The bath?” You ask, and later you’ll regret doing this.

–

Dustin is the one who thinks of calling Mr. Clark, though you’re a bit skeptical of the idea.

“It’s late, what if he’s busy?”

Your brother laughs at the idea. “Sure, Mr. Clark will be busy and you’ll have a hot date waiting for you tonight.”

“Dude, harsh.”

He waves you off and dials the teacher’s number and you’re choosing to ignore the fact that it’s inappropriate for Dustin to even have the man’s number. You stand next to him as he takes the call, ready to intervene if needed.

“Mr. Clark? It’s Dustin… Yeah, yeah, I just… I–I have a science question.”

You drop your face into your hands and sigh with disappointment. Smooth, real smooth, Dustin.

“Do you know anything about sensory deprivation tanks?” Dustin’s eyes widen and he quickly looks over at you, covering the phone so that he can frantically whisper, “he asked why!”

“Why are you looking at me?” You whisper back, equally at a loss for what to tell the man.

“You’re no help!” Your brother whispers back, rolling his eyes at you before returning to the phone. “Sorry, technical difficulties. Anyways, we need to know for… fun.”

Again you facepalm and Jonathan, who is standing behind you, rubs your shoulders to relieve some of your stress. You relax against him and remind yourself to calm down. Dustin can handle this, he’s always been better at this stuff than you have; he was practically made for this life of lying and mischief. You were made for cookies and comics.

There’s a pause on the other end of the line and you can faintly hear Mr. Clark ask to talk about the topic later, preferably after a school day, but Dustin insists. “You always say we should never stop being curious. To always open any curiosity door we find… Why are you keeping this curiosity door locked?”

The demanding tone causes you to stifle a laugh and you feel Jonathan doing the same. Yeah. Dustin was made for this.

Mr. Clark and your brother discuss the details of the tank for a while so you wander over towards the table and sit down. You hand Dustin a piece of paper and a pencil so that he can write down important information and flick through a comic as you wait.

As soon as he hangs up, Dustin throws the phone down and turns towards Joyce. “Do you still have that kiddie pool we bobbed for apples in?”

“A kiddie pool?” You ask at the same time Joyce responds, “Yeah, I think so?”

“Good. Then we just need salt. Lots of it.”

“I’m sorry, salt?”

You’re ignored once again as Hopper asks how much salt is needed. Dustin looks down at his notes and bites his lip. “1,500 pounds.”

“What the fuck…” You mutter under your breath, completely exasperated by the entire situation. A kiddie pool and 1,500 fucking pounds of salt? No. This is where you draw the line. You can handle monsters and alternate dimensions, but a kiddie pool full of salt to create a sensory deprivation tank is just too much. It’s your breaking point. “My life isn’t real.”

–

Somehow, amidst the diverging of groups to tackle everything needed to make El’s tank, you end up with Nancy in the shed at Hawkins Middle. You’re really not sure how it happened but one minute you were with Jonathan and Joyce, the next you’re in a shed with the girl you have very conflicted feelings over.

Mike is standing outside the door while you and Nancy struggle to grab the hoses from the shelf. The things are surprisingly heavy so it takes the two of you to get them down. You grunt as you throw a third one down into a barrel. “God, what do these things eat?”

Nancy chuckles. “No clue, but I’m sure Jonathan and Hopper are having a better time with all those salt bags.”

“Touche.” Then both of you are quiet again as you continue working.

“So… what’s up with you and Jonathan?” Nancy suddenly asks, which causes you to drop the hose you’d been holding.

“Shit!” You bend down to pick it back up, though you also do it to try and compose yourself because what the fuck. “And nothing. There’s nothing going on between us.”

Nancy frowns. “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want you to think I’m intruding or anything.”

“Intruding?”

“I mean… shit, I don’t know how to word this.” She fumbles with her own hose. “I just– I want you to know that you have nothing to worry about.”

You know she means well, but Nancy’s words only upset you for a multitude of reasons. “Nancy, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but why does it matter?”

“Why does what matter?”

“How I feel about Jonathan. I mean, you’re with Steve. He’s your boyfriend, there shouldn’t be any reason for me to worry about you and my best friend.”

Nancy looks down at the ground. “You’re right, but it’s not like that. Nothing happened between Jonathan and I last night. I promise, I know he’s yours and–”

“You know, I’m really fucking sick of everyone trying to tell me what Jonathan and I are.” You spit out.

Nancy flinches. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Let’s just focus on the task at hand, okay?” The girl nods and places the last hose into the barrel, but there’s something that’s been on the back of your mind for a while. “Look, I know you mean well and I’m sorry for being so mean, but… Cheating is something I can’t get behind.”

“I’d never cheat–”

“I know, but a word of advice? Figure out your own feelings before you hurt those closest to you.” Nancy’s frown deepens and you sigh. “Don’t tell him I said this, but even though Steve can be an asshole, he’s still a good guy. He’s already really hurt over seeing you with Jonathan. I just… I don’t want to see him get hurt again, it wouldn’t be fair.”

“Didn’t know you had a soft spot for him.” Nancy says, a hint of something else within her voice.

“Believe me, I don’t, but it sucks knowing that the person you love may love someone else.”

“Woah, I don’t think he loves me–”

“Maybe not yet, but he’s starting to. So again, I urge you to figure out what you want before more people get hurt. Jonathan included. He’s my best friend, Nancy.” You take a deep breath and will yourself to be vulnerable. “Regardless of whatever I may feel for him, he deserves to be happy. You need to figure out your feelings before you’re in too deep. Okay? He’s been through enough to last a lifetime and he’s the best damn guy in this hellhole of a town.”

Nancy swallows and for a moment you think she’s going to refute you, but instead she straightens her posture and gives you a curt nod. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You finish up in the shed in silence. Once you’re done you wheel the barrel out and motion for Mike to follow. “Here, can you take this? I’m going to go check on Dustin.”

Mike makes a face. “I mean, I guess, but–”

You quickly hand the kid the barrel and run back inside the school. You’re a shaking mess from your conversation with Nancy and you need to get away from her as quickly as possible. The conversation replays over and over in your head and each time it’s like a punch. Were you too harsh? Have you revealed too much to her?

Whatever, you don’t have time to dwell on it.

You run back into the school and slam the door behind you.

–

It takes a while to set everything up within the gym. You help Mike hold the hoses as Jonathan and Nancy turn the water on. Lucas holds a thermometer and monitors the water’s temperature and when it’s time, you use your new switchblade to tear open the bags of salt alongside Jonathan and Hopper. Every five bags or so, Dustin drops an egg into the pool to check the buoyancy.

It’s a team effort, but eventually the eggs begin to float and you breathe out with relief. One task down, a million more to go.

Mike switches on the walkie and you help El put on her tapped goggles. Once everything is ready, you hold her hand as she carefully steps into the water. When she’s fully in, you step away and sit down between Jonathan and Nancy, a position you somehow always find yourself in.

As soon as El begins to float in the water, the lights start to flicker before completely shutting off. You feel the static that always seems to accompany her powers. No one moves, too scared to break El out of her concentration.

You wait for a few minutes, uneasy. You’ve never actually seen El’s power in action besides when she made your comic book fly up in the air, so you’re unsure what to do while you wait. Then, faintly, El mumbles, “Barbara.”

Nancy jolts to life and leans in closer to the girl. The lights flicker once more but this time you see El’s body tremble with fear.

“What’s going on?” Nancy asks you.

“I don’t know. I think… I think she’s scared.”

“Scared? I–” Nancy leans even closer to El now. “Is Barb okay? Is she okay?”

You pull Nancy back, not wanting to overwhelm El, but it’s too late. The poor girl trembles even more and repeatedly mumbles “gone” until her voice raises and she begins to cry out. Nancy starts to cry and you motion for Joyce to hold El while you handle Nancy.

Joyce reaches over to comfort the girl and you pull Nancy into your arms as she cries. “I’m so sorry, Nancy.”

She cries harder and you tighten your arms around her. All your anger towards the girl from your conversation from earlier has faded. Barb, Nancy’s dearest friend, is gone. You can’t imagine how she’s feeling right now. If you ever lost Jonathan… God, a piece of you would die.

Eventually Nancy manages to calm down and pulls away with a soft “thank you”, but you keep your hand around hers as you pay attention again. You know she’s embarrassed about her reaction, but you don’t blame her for a second. Later, after all of this, you’ll make sure to check up on her.

“Will?”

You hear Jonathan gasp next to you and he grasps at your free hand. You sit there in shock and feel your heart swell. Tears lump in your throat at the confirmation of Will being alive. Will, beautiful and sweet Will, is alive.

You squeeze Jonathan’s hand and the two of you look at each other. There’s tears in his eyes as well and you both let out a slight chuckle of disbelief. After this horrible week, everything that you’ve been through together to find Will, finding out that he’s alive by each other’s side only seems fitting.

“Tell him… Tell him I’m coming. Mom is coming.” Joyce instructs El, strength returning to her voice.

The walkie sparks to life with Will’s voice. “Hurry.”

You choke back a sob. “Little bee,”

Jonathan squeezes your hand again and you rest your head against his shoulder, completely sagging with relief. He’s here. He’s real and he’s alive and he’ll be in your arms once again soon.

“Okay, listen. You tell him to… To stay where he is.” Joyce is speaking with an urgency now as she hovers over El. “We’re coming. We’re coming, okay? We’re coming, honey.”

The sweet moment is ruined by the walkie’s intense static. El quickly sits up and tears her goggles off and begins to panic. She flings herself into Joyce’s embrace and you hurry over to console her as well. She’s just a little girl, she’s been through so much for someone so young.

You kiss her forehead the way Jonathan always does to you. “You did so well, El. I’m so, so proud of you. You’re incredible, okay? We’ve got you, you’re safe with us.”

Joyce echoes your words and the two of you hold tightly onto El as she cries. You look over at Nancy, who is staring off into space with her own despair in her eyes, and you feel such an intense wave of hurt hit you. You’re all so young. The kids are all huddled together in shock. None of this is fucking fair.

–

You opt to stay behind with the kids on the bleachers as Jonathan, Joyce, and Hopper discuss what to do next. Nancy has walked away, presumably to grieve, so you give her the same she desires.

El shivers, so you tighten the towel around her. Lucas rubs her arms to try and warm her up as well, something that brings a faint smile to your face. You guess the two of them sorted out their differences, then. Good. El needs more friends like Lucas in her life if she’s going to continue hanging around Dustin and Mike. They’re insensible, but Lucas isn’t so bad.

Dustin’s stomach rumbles and he lets out a sheepish laugh. “Sorry, ignore that.”

“Oh!” You gasp, suddenly remembering the cookies you packed in your bag. You had grabbed them before leaving Jonathan’s, figuring the kids hadn’t eaten all day. “Here, made these fresh today. You all get three, that’s it.”

The boys fight over who gets one first and you leave them to sort it out themselves. You roll your eyes at them; they’re such heathens. You focus your attention back to El, who remains pressed against your side. “Hey, honey. How are you feeling?”

“Tired,”

“Hmm, I think I can understand why.” You grab a cookie while the boys aren’t looking and offer one to El. “Have you ever had an oatmeal raisin cookie?”

She shakes her head.

“Ah, well then you’re in for a treat. You see, I’m kinda known for my cookies. Everyone loves them, see?” You point towards the boys, who are about to start throwing punches over the biggest piece, and El giggles.

Your heart brightens at the sound. “Here you go, try it.”

She accepts the cookie and takes a tiny bite. As she chews, her eyes lighten and she lets out a quiet “yum”.

“‘Yum’ indeed.” You agree with a smile.

Eventually the kids settle down and eat their own cookies in silence. You figure that the events from today have finally caught up to them, so you eat your own cookies in peace. You’re content to sit with them for a bit, relieved to have all your boys with you safe and sound. You’ve missed them.

Once you’re done eating, you wipe your hands off and gently nudge El aside. “Sorry, honey. I should go check on Jonathan. I’ll be back in a sec.”

She nods at you and moves so that you’re able to get up.

“Where you going?” Dustin asks with his mouth full.

You make a face at him. “Dude, don’t talk with your mouth full. You know mom hates that.”

He sticks his tongue out at you and you roll your eyes. “I’m going to go find Jonathan. Make sure no one leaves, alright?”

Your brother salutes you and you salute back before heading towards the gym doors. You’re about to open the doors, but then you see Jonathan sitting with Nancy against the wall through the glass panel.

You freeze, unsure if you should interrupt them. They seem to be deep in a private conversation, Nancy’s face is twisted with so many emotions you feel almost guilty for looking in. Like you’re intruding on something.

Then again, it always feels like you’re intruding when you’re with them lately.

Is this really what you want?

Your hand hovers over the door handle and for a moment you think you’ll pull it open, but you don’t. Instead, you turn around and walk back over to the kids. You’re not sure what you’re feeling as you walk over, but when Dustin sees you he seems to notice a change in your demeanor.

He frowns at you. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine.” You say numbly, sitting down next to him. Your shoulders are stiff, your leg is bouncing up and down.

Dustin looks over towards where you came from and he seems to freeze as well. He looks between you, then Jonathan and Nancy in the hallway, and he exhales. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

You think your brother will leave the topic at that, but he surprises you. He grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze. You look up and see that he’s smiling at you and your heart breaks all over again for an entirely different reason. You look around at Lucas and Mike, who are bickering over the cookies, at El who watches in amusement, and then finally at Dustin who is holding your hand and offering you whatever comfort he can provide you.

Dustin knows you as well as you know him, he can sense a shift in your mood before you even can. He’s here with you, holding your hand because the boy you love has broken your heart once again, and Dustin is doing this without you having to tell him. He just knows, and you love him all the more for it.

You’re surrounded by so much love it takes your breath away for a moment.

You squeeze Dustin’s hand back, so immensely grateful that he’s your brother. “I love you, kid.”

He smiles that wonderful toothless smile that you’ve loved since he was a baby. “I love ya too, sis.”

“Are you two done? Can I ask Y/N for more cookies now?” Mike calls over, though his voice is kinder than usual. You guess that even he has noticed your mood change but doesn’t want to pry.

You wipe your eyes quickly and stand up. “So demanding. Let me check my bag, but I doubt it.”

“I’m your favorite, let’s be honest here.” He responds, trying to get you to laugh.

It works. “Sure, buddy.”

You walk over to your bag and rustle around, but you know there’s none left. You’re just thankful for the distraction, and you have a sneaking suspicion that this had been Mike’s plan all along. You look up and see him staring at you with a concerned look in his eyes and your heart swells even more.

You’re so surrounded by love; sometimes it feels like you’re even drowning in it.

-

⌑ series masterlist

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[azrielsdove]

Longing Pt. 2: Azriel

Warnings: Suggestive

Part One Here

***

A strong body was pressed tight against your back, an arm wrapped snug around your waist. You took a deep breath of the morning air, comfortable and happy. You turned in the arm holding you to press a soft kiss to Cassian’s forehead.

Until you realized it was Azriel sleeping soundly next to you, and that it would never be Cassian. You shot up straight, feeling like you had just been doused in ice cold water. The sounds of Nestas moans replayed in your head as Azriel blinked up at you, your sudden movement waking him.

“What happened?” He asked, voice hoarse from sleep. You shook your head in response, not trusting yourself to speak right now. You slid out of the bed and walked quietly into the bathing room, preparing to take a long, sorrowful bath. You heard Azriel getting up as well, followed shortly by your bedroom door opening and closing. Yea, I wouldn’t want to stick around me either, you thought, tears pricking at your eyes.

Everything just felt too heavy.

You undressed and sunk into the warm bath you had drawn, a rather copious amount of bubbles covering you to your chin. You leaned your head back against the edge of the tub, gazing out over the early morning. Why did it have to be so hard? You had first felt the mating bond flicker when you met Cassian, and you thought all your dreams would come true. Certainly he would feel the bond as well, would feel drawn to you. You would fall in love, get married, and have ten beautiful babies. After that day there was never another option for you, not when you were so certain of your mate.

Why did it never snap for him?

Or worse, it did and he decided he wasn’t interested in pursuing that path with you.

Both options made you feel sick.

You closed your eyes and thought back to that very first meeting, the day you were so sure you had gotten what you’d always wanted.

***

“What if they don’t like me?” Your voice was full of doubt as you smoothed your dress down again, anxiety coursing through you. Azriel laughed, tugging you closer to the doors of the massive house in the mountains he had brought you to.

“I promise they will love you. Don’t you trust me?” He teased, poking your side.

You glared at him. “He is the High Lord, Azriel! My High Lord! Big, bad, powerful Rhysand! Am I not expected to be a bit nervous?” He laughed again and shook his head.

“Rhys is not scary. Do you think i’d bring you somewhere you’d be in danger?” A smile ghosted over his lips as he stared you down, daring you to ask to go back home. You sighed and ran your fingers over your dress again, sucking in a deep breath.

“Let’s just get it over with.”

“That’s my girl!” He cheered, looping his arm through yours as he pulled you into the grand house. You were quickly rendered speechless by the stunning room you were in, windows covering three entire walls to overlook Velaris.

“You live here?” You asked in amazement, still looking around the room.

“Sure do. Cassian and I reside up here most of the time. Do you like it?” There’s a strange undertone in his question, a shyness that he doesn’t usually have around you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, a smile breaking out across your face.

“I love it! I can’t believe you have never brought me here before!” You jabbed, smiling bigger at the relief on his face. Azriel had been your friend for some months now, and you occasionally wondered what it would be like to be more. That feeling crept up in your heart at this moment, standing with him in the home he had been so nervous to show you. You opened your mouth to continue before his eyes flicked to something behind you, the smile reserved for you changing to something more boyish.

“Cassian!” He called, and you turned to see a man just as large as Azriel. Right as you felt that golden tug in your chest. His eyes were bright as they took you in, white teeth showing as he smiled wide. Cassian.

Cassian.

Cassian.

Azriel nudged you and you suddenly realized you were staring at the male with your mouth wide open. You flushed and murmured a “hello” as your gaze drifted to the floor. You were thankful that Azriel started a conversation with him about training earlier that week, allowing you to steal glances up at the long-haired god in front of you.

Cassian.

The General of the Night Court.

Azriel’s brother.

Your Mate.

***

You opened your eyes, a deep frown on your face. You had always romanticized that memory, the magical moment of meeting your mate. The gentle tug you felt when you first laid eyes upon him.

But something was off about it.

You sat straighter in the tub, looking blankly out the window. You thought over the second you felt that bond twitch in your chest, the seconds before it.

When Azriel was smiling down at you.

No. No, you can’t have made a mistake like that. You shook your head as if to clear it, thinking back to other moments you felt the pull of the mating bond.

***

“Catch!” Azriel yelled, tossing a deadly sharp dagger at you. You yelped and dodged out of the way, watching the blade land point-down in the sand. You spun towards him, crossing your arms as you did.

“Are you trying to kill me?” You had agreed to come up to train with Azriel today, mostly due to knowing Cassian would likely be there. He had been on you about learning self-defense, adamant that the world wasn’t all safe like Velaris.

Azriel shrugged, another dagger in his hands. “Your reflexes are shit.” He stated, inspecting the blade he was holding.

“You gave me hardly any warning! It’s my first day!” You protested, knowing he wasn’t wrong. He shrugged again, eyes flicking up towards you. You noticed the tense in his arm a split second before the second dagger was hurtling directly towards your face.

This time you slid smoothly to the side, gloved hand shooting out to catch the handle of the damned thing. You turned back to Azriel, a wicked smile on your face.

“Did you truly believe I had never learned self-defense?” The slight surprise on his face was all he gave you before he was throwing another dagger your way. You again caught it with ease, throwing it back at him without missing a beat.

“Okay, color me impressed. You’ve never shown this side of you.” Azriel said, walking over to your side to take the other blades back. You handed them back, his fingers running over yours as he grabbed them. The same second Cassian walked into the ring, shouting about you starting without him.

The same second you felt the bond tug.

***

“No, no, no! That is not how you play!” Cassian yelled, looking down at the move you had just made on the game board.

“It’s not?” You asked innocently, batting your eyes up at him. He glared at you, hands waving in frustration at your game piece.

“You can’t move there! You are one turn away from winning, with a move like that. No chance left for the rest of us.” He sighed dramatically, looking in dismay at the board in front of you.

Azriel chuckled from next to you, leaning forward to look at the board as well. “Poor Cass doesn’t take well to losing,” he stage whispered, pulling a laugh out of you. You turned and looked at him, moving your face close to his as if you were two conspirators.

“He should get used to it if you keep bringing me to game night.” You loudly whispered back, Azriel laughing in answer. Cassian’s grumble dragged your gaze back to him, the bond pulling hard in your chest.

You missed the way Azriel was looking at you at the same moment.

***

The shot burned your throat, a welcome distraction against the sight of Cassian all over some random female. Azriel sat next to you, a pitying look on his face. “We don’t have to stay here, ya know.”

You shook your head, reaching for the cocktail you had ordered as well. “No, I don’t want to ruin your night. It’s not like he has to want me.” You looked down, hot tears sliding down your face. “Maybe he just doesn’t feel it.”

Azriel’s hands cupped your cheeks, dragging your face up to him. “Hey, hey, he just hasn’t realized it yet i’m sure. Don’t let this make you think you’re not enough.” His thumbs swiped away the still falling tears, now accompanied by little sniffles.

“I just don’t understand how it hasn’t snapped for him. What am I doing wrong?” You were mumbling, words hardly coherent. Azriel continued wiping away your tears, allowing your nonsense mumbles to continue.

“Hey,” he said soothingly, bringing his face down close to yours. “Don’t worry. He will come around, and if he doesn’t he was never worth it. Okay?” He gave you an encouraging smile, nodding for you to return it.

“Okay,” you said, sniffing one last time as you pulled away from Azriel and moving to place your glass back on the table.

The table that your drunken eyes severely misjudged the distance of.

Your glass shattered on the floor, the bright colored drink inside spraying all over you and Azriel. You blinked slowly at the mess, looking back up at Azriel’s equally shocked expression.

And then you laughed.

Loud, uncontrollable laughter.

Azriel stared at you for a second before joining in, grabbing napkins to help clean up the mess. The sound of your laughing drew Cassian’s attention back to your table, coming over to see what was going on. You looked up to him while Azriel carefully wiped the drink off of you, the bond glowing brightly.

***

Oh, gods. Every memory you went through of the bond calling to you, Azriel was there too.

Azriel was always there.

The broken pieces inside of you stirred, as if telling you to listen to your gut. You quickly pulled yourself out of the bath, unable to sit still any longer. How could you have made such a mistake?

You dried off and walked into your closet, blindly pulling out clothes while your mind raced.

Did Azriel even know?

You paused in horror, shirt halfway on. You had been going on and on about Cassian to him for gods knew how long. Had it been torture for him this whole time, trying to encourage you?

You quickly finished dressing, tying your hair up loosely as you headed to your bedroom door. You had to go find him, you had to see what he knew, you needed to explain-

Your door opened as you reached it, causing you to jump back in alarm.

Azriel was standing there, looking at you curiously. A large tray of food in his hands. “You okay?” He asked cautiously, taking in the panic on your face.

“Uh, yea! Sorry, I was just about to go look for you? What’s this?” Your voice was too loud, too bright. He narrowed his eyes at you as he stepped into the room, kicking the door shut behind him.

“What happened.” It wasn’t a question. He set the food down on your desk, turning back to you with his arms crossed.

You shook your head too quickly, hurrying over to the tray he’d set down. “Looks delicious!” You grabbed one of the pastries on the plate, halfway to your mouth when Azriel’s hand wrapped around your wrist.

“What aren’t you telling me?” His voice was softer, eyes looking over you like he was making sure you weren’t injured.

“Did you know?” You asked quietly, mouth going dry. His eyes flicked up to yours, brows furrowed.

“Know what?”

You swallowed thickly, holding the pastry out towards him. He glanced between you and it, realization coming over his face. “Ah,” he said, letting go of your wrist.

“You don’t want it?” You were embarrassed by how pathetic the question was, arm falling limply to your side.

“No, no that’s not what I mean. I just, last night you were broken into pieces over Cassian. I just,” he swallowed, looking away from you. “I just want you to be sure.”

Your heart ached at the pain in his voice. You set the pastry back down, reaching out to grab his hands in yours. “Azriel,” you whispered, “it has always been you, hasn’t it? All those times I felt the bond pull, it was all towards you.” His eyes met yours again, shinier than they were before.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You ran your thumbs over his hands, feeling the scars under your touch.

“I thought you would be disappointed. You seemed so happy that it was Cassian, the big, bad General. The hero.” Your heart was breaking, a pain deep in your chest spreading.

“Az…” You let go of one hand to cup his face, tears of your own pricking at your eyes. “I could never be disappointed with you. You held my heart long before I knew who Cassian was. It’s my own fault for misinterpreting the bond the way I did.” You let go of him, moving to pick up the pastry again. “I want you to take it,” you said, holding it out for him.

He looked at you for a long moment before taking the treat out of your hand, raising it slowly to his mouth. You watched as he took a careful bite, eyes locked onto yours while he ate. The shattered pieces of the bond stirred again, calling back out to the male you were made for.

Azriel placed the half eaten pastry down, silently looking back at you. You took a hesitant step towards him, placing one hand on his neck. “Can I kiss you?” You asked, heart racing.

He nodded.

You leaned up, pressing your lips softly to his.

The bond sung.

Azriel’s hands gripped tight around your waist, tugging you flush against him. He kissed you like it was his dying wish, his last chance to get to do so. You put the same emotion back into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He nipped at your lip, encouraging you to open your mouth for him. The bond glowed bright inside of you, causing you to gasp into his mouth. You felt his lips smile against yours, tongue sliding against you like it was meant to be there.

You groaned at his taste, the sweetness of the pastry still lingering. His hands slid up your back, gripping onto your shirt at the noises you made. You arched into him, his lips pulling from yours to trace down your neck. You moaned as he sunk his teeth into you, claiming you as his own. The golden power of the bond flowed through you, whole and pure. A beautiful golden tether, tying you to Azriel.

Azriel, your closest friend.

The Shadowsinger.

The spy of the Night Court.

Your mate.

***

I hope this was what you all wanted!! Thank you so much for your patience recently, I hope you guys appreciate this as much as I appreciate you <3

[vickyzangels]

hii!! can you write smut about tom were you're sucking his dick for the first time? hes just looking down at your teary eyes and getting more and more turned on GAHHWD🤕🙏

% “always be my boy, i'll always be your girl.”

# synopsis ; what the ask said‼️‼️

# pairing ; tom kaulitz x reader

# word count ; 490

# tags ; nsfw (mdni), oral (m receiving), degradation, should’ve pumped this bitch out in a day but i got stressed while procrastinating it and adhd made me deep clean my bathroom instead (who knew bleach could make a tub smell like a public chlorine pool) so who knows if its bad

a/n ; i’m hitting post and running away this was so bad I’M VOMITTINH

tom is a head pusher. you probably would have gathered that if you assumed based off what he’s said in his interviews before, but nothing could’ve prepared you to be kneeling in front of him for what was close to a consecutive hour. do you remember what led up to this point? no, if that doesn’t count giving each other hickeys almost aggressively after a big interview on a show.

regardless, you were practically being used. head rolled back, offering a view of tom’s jawline as he groaned up into the air about how you were on your knees letting him fuck into your mouth with your hands braced against his legs. you’d been doing nothing but letting him use you, gagging around his length as reward for cooperating so well.

spit from your mouth starts to spill down your chin, mirroring the tears and whatever smoky makeup you had put on before the show from your eyes actively running down your face. your gagging starts to get a little louder from his quickening pace, and in taking notice, he looks down to mock and smile at you.

“..was für eine schmutzige hure.” what a dirty whore.

he groans, making sure to emphasize each word with a hard thrust down your relaxed throat, “take it, take it all like a good girl since you want it so bad.”

and you do. maybe it was the way the interviewer kept making sly advances towards your boyfriend the entire time, and yet he dodged every one of them so naturally but he even made sure to mention you in nearly every answer he could, maybe that was why you wanted his thick cock in your mouth so bad.

through your eyes rolling back and tom hitting the back of your throat over and over again, you gathered enough composure to start swirling and lapping your tongue around his length, keeping extra attention aside to keep your cheeks hollow.

his thrusts faltered a bit, his hips slowing down stuttering but nevertheless still rocking himself into your mouth. continuing his pace, both hands you braced on his legs slid up to paw at his length and pull your head back to the tip just to fall back to the hilt of his cock. tom’s guidance began to fall short, moving to just rest on your head while you started to control the moving.

the simple up-and-down motion evolved into a maneuvering to give special attention to his tip and make space for your hands that stroked and rubbed with the pace of your lapping, using spit that spilled from your mouth to make a messy lube.

if you told tom from however long ago that you weren’t sucking the soul out of his dick that you’d never gave a blowjob before and were later going to give him possibly the most earth-shattering orgasm of his life with little to no guidance, he might’ve laughed.

a/n ; long time no seeeeee 😋😋 im not even gonna lie to you guys cause this is tumblr i dont have to live in fear >:( but i did suck dick to method write for this, love you guyssss

a/n 2 ; if yg on my taglist dont fw the tagging anymore lmk i’ll take you off‼️

© ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO VICKYZANGELS. do not steal, repost, plagiarize, or use my work for anything.

taglist ; @lixs-l4cefairy @imabitchh @arquiiva @verelace @iovemoonyy @bl1ngringz

[beneathstarryskies]

Hi hi hi there!

Could I please request a smutty something having to do with Astarion and him drinking my blood while having sex? Thanks!

Warnings: blood sucking (obviously), fem!reader, oral (f receiving), penetration (p+v), creampie • word count: 2,262 • a/n: I got a lil carried away on this one lol

Astarion tries his damndest to keep his hunger in check when he is close to you. You already give him so much - so willingly at that - he couldn’t bring himself to burden you with the random bouts of bloodlust he feels at times. Not because he knows you wouldn’t give in to his whims. Quite the opposite. He can already picture you giving him that sweet smile and baring to him that pretty little neck, inviting him to take and take and take some more. Despite your willingness to stand up to him about your morals, you hardly have the strength to truly deny him anything he wants. 

After a while, the bloodlust begins popping up during the most inopportune times. Bathing with you in the large tub, holding you close as you rest against his chest draws his attention to the curve of your neck, tempting him to bite when you’re so trusting and vulnerable. Having you spread out on the bed while he’s buried between your legs only makes him wonder if the blood would taste sweeter if he bit into your inner thigh. On the same note, he imagines driving himself deep inside your tight heat and biting into your neck to hear your sounds of pleasure mixed with a cry of pain…You can try to tame a vampire, but at the end of the day he will always be a predator. 

Maybe that’s why he begins pulling away from you, spending more time alone and wandering the streets at night. Finally, he has the nerve to ask you if he should consider finding a different way to feed. He’d fed upon animals before, he’d be willing to do it again if it meant he didn’t lose control and drain his beloved. The only person who has ever truly cared for him…

“Why would you want to do that?” you ask him, feeling a little hurt at the assumption you didn’t want to allow him to drink from you any longer. 

“It just doesn’t seem economical that you have to bear the burden alone,” he explains in that voice that’s dripping with sweet manipulation. “I’m only thinking of what’s best for you, darling.” 

‘And trying to keep myself from tearing you apart…’ he thinks. 

“I suppose it does make sense,” you agree. 

He nods, seemingly satisfied with the conversation. He stalks out that night in search of prey, and you’re left lying alone in the bed wondering where it had all gone wrong. The act of letting him feed on you had been the first step to bonding with him. Like a feral cat, Astarion found himself slowly growing closer to the one who provided him sustenance without asking for anything in return. Eventually, he’d allowed you to even touch him while he did it, running your fingers through his hair and clinging onto his shoulders. Then came the night he’d taken too much. You hadn’t even been angry with him over it. You’d blamed yourself for not letting him know in time. As you’d laid in your bed roll shivering from the cold brought on by blood loss, he’d even tried to hold despite knowing his cold skin wouldn’t offer much help. 

The nights pass with each of you alone until one night when he’s preparing to venture out once more, you grab his hand. Your eyes are desperately peering into his, trying to convey all of the feelings you struggle to say out loud. 

“Stay,” you whisper. 

“Darling, I should feed.” 

“Please,” you whine and tug on his hand with enough strength that he almost drops back into bed beside you. “Just one night, please. I’ll bring you a rabbit or something tomorrow. Please. Just stay.” 

His eyes soften when he hears your pleading. The new arrangement had taken him away from you during the key few hours of the night when you could be together without worrying about the sun. He places his palm on your cheek and sighs softly. 

“I suppose I have been sneaking away a lot lately,” he concedes. He sits down on the bed beside you. “I just wanted to make sure I was feeding well, and not burdening you.” 

“I thought you were beginning to hate me,” you chuckle softly despite the relieved tears brimming along your lash line. 

“Oh, darling. I had no idea that’s what was going on in that pretty head of yours,” he kisses you softly. “Why didn’t you say so?” 

“I don’t know. I just assumed I’d made it clear I don’t find you to be a burden, so the only explanation was that…You know, you were pulling away.”

“And you were just going to let a beauty like me go?” he teases you although his hand on your thigh is gentle and reassuring. 

“So, will you stay?” you plead again. 

“Hm, let me think on it,” he says as he stands up and begins undoing the laces of his shirt and untucking it from his pants. “Should I?” He removes his shirt and tosses it onto the chair nearby. “Perhaps, I will.” 

He kicks off his shoes and removes his pants before crawling back into the bed with you. His hand slowly moves up the hem of your nightshirt. 

“It seems you are,” you giggle. “Unless you intend on going out in those adorable underpants.” 

“Rest assured, my adorable underpants are for your eyes only.” 

He smirks before leaning in to kiss you deeply, slowly pushing you down onto the bed so you’re pinned beneath him. His hands slowly move down your sides. It always awes him how warm your body feels, and he instinctively seeks out to take it in. He pulls your nightshirt off and tosses it aside just to feel you against him, your warmth seeping into his being. He pulls you closer and begins nibbling on your collarbone. 

“Astarion,” you giggle. 

“Mm, I think you should be moaning my name. Not giggling it.” 

He moves lower, letting his fangs graze against your skin. He used to worry about that. He thought it’d bother you, remind you of what kind of monster he is. Until the day you’d shyly admitted you liked how it felt, it turned you on. He carefully drags them over your warm breast before sucking on your nipple. As a moan falls like a song from your throat, he flicks his tongue over the pert bud. He continues until you’re writhing and whimpering then he moves to the next breast, lavishing in it in the same lewd attention. Astarion knows how to work a body into a craze, but none have delighted him the way you do. Every moan, every quiver, every soft breath of his name falling from your lips is like a gift to him. 

“So responsive tonight, have I truly neglected my sweetheart so much?” he asks before kissing your tummy. If you do answer, he’s too busy kissing and licking and nibbling on every curve of your body until he’s nestled between your legs. 

“Astarion,” you gasp when you feel his breath on your dripping cunt. 

“Oh, that’s more like it,” he chuckles. 

He presses a soft kiss to your mound before using his nimble fingers to part your folds. He feels his body stir with delight at the sight of your flushed, wet pussy. He explores the curves and tender flesh with his tongue before wrapping his mouth around your clit. His hands hold your thighs apart, allowing him to devour you as deeply as he desires. He keeps savoring the taste of your sweet arousal with the same appreciation one might use to sample an expensive wine. He can almost taste the orgasm building in your core. He can sense the quickening of your pulse and smell the increase of your hormones. 

“I’m gonna…” 

“I know, darling. Let go for me.” 

He returns to his ministrations as though his very being depends on it. Your thighs tremble around his head and the moans falling from your lip are like music to his pointed ears. You throw your head back as you feel the tightening in your core threatening to break at any second. 

Astarion suckles on your clit and moans against your cunt. It’s enough to drive you mad. The coil snaps inside of you, releasing waves of nerve-numbing pleasure. You tug on his white hair gently and your hips buck slightly against his face. He keeps you suspended in a place where time stands still, and it’s only you and him at this moment. That is until you let out one final cry of pleasure and fall back into a relaxed puddle on the mattress. Astarion smiles when he lifts his head from between your thighs, a look of smug satisfaction on his features. 

“I suppose it has been much too long since I’ve done that,” he admits before climbing over your body.

 He presses soft, sensual kisses on your lips before pushing his boxers down and kicking them off. He takes your hand and guides it to his aching erection. A hiss of pleasure escapes him when your warm, soft hand wraps around his length and you start to stroke him with practiced skill. 

“Do you feel what you do to me, darling? After all this time, just the smell of you can drive me to madness,” he whispers huskily against your ear. 

You’re lost for words, as you so often find yourself when Astarion speaks such passionate words. It had been an adjustment to learn when he was toying with you and when he was sincere. As time went on, he became more sincere than manipulative. It was a gradual change that came the more you proved your care for him and the more you’d earned his trust. Now when you look into his eyes, you see such unwavering devotion you feel like such a fool for having doubted him. 

“I love you,” is the best you can do in response, but the sound of those words still sends a shiver down his spine and warms his chest in a way he never thought he’d feel again. 

“I love you too,” he whispers. It’s still painful for him to say at times, for fear the vulnerability will be turned on him one day. Instead, you release his cock and spread your thighs, baring all for him. Invite him once more to take what he desires from you, proving your willingness to give him everything if that’s what it takes. 

He guides the weeping tip to your entrance and takes a moment to tease you slightly. He presses the head against your whole just to hear you let out a pleading whine, then pulls away again. He repeats the motion until you’re trembling with need, then he thrusts into you with graceful precision. You both gasp as your bodies connect. Your hands almost instinctively grab onto his ass, squeezing and pushing him forward. 

“It feels so good,” you moan. 

“Divine,” he grunts as he begins thrusting slowly. His hand rests at the back of your head, tangled in your hair. 

Your body begins moving along with his in a sensual, lustful dance. How many times the two of you must have made love like this, but it always feels like the first time. The thrill of it all is never lost on you, and the comfort shared in the act of being so close to one another and knowing your bond is deeper than either thought possible only adds to it. 

Astarion watches you with hungry eyes. His gaze moving from your lips to the curve of your exposed neck, and his mouth waters. Just the thought of biting into your neck and drinking of your blood while he’s so intimately intertwined with you riles him up further. His thrusts quicken, becoming more frantic as a fresh wave of arousal hits him. You gasp when he begins kissing your neck and you can feel the sharp point of his fangs against your skin. 

“Bite me,” you whisper. “Please.” 

He wants to hesitate, to be a good partner to you and assure your consent before continuing. But he just can’t. The hunger, the lust…It’s all too much to fight against. You cry out in pain and ecstasy at once when his fangs pierce your skin. The wound is deep, but never deep enough to be fatal. He would never forgive himself if he did that. It’s just enough for the coppery tang of your blood to hit his tonge, and he begins to suck on the wound to bring forth more. Your mind spins as the icey numbness on your neck conflicts with the white hot pleasure in your core. 

Without warning, a second orgasm rips through you. Your nails dig into his back as you cry out. Astarion only releases your neck because the steady pulsing of your walls brings him to the edge as well. He kisses you, neither of you caring about the blood staining his lips, as he fills you with his seed. As you both come down from the intensity of your shared bliss, he returns once more to the puncture wounds on your neck. He suckles gently then begins licking it to soothe the ache until finally the bleeding stops.

You’re still holding onto him like your life depends on it, so he contents himself with laying his head on your chest. He can hear your heart beating against his ear as you run your fingers through his curls. 

Against all odds, Astarion is content. 

[leeknow-thoughts]

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY

౨ৎ pairing : Lee know x reader

౨ৎ warnings : tooth rotting fluff, petnames

౨ৎ a/n : sorry for being gone for so long babes !!!

You stumble through the front door, discarding your shoes. You are met with the sight of him in the kitchen, making dinner. "Happy anniversary jagiya," he smiles ever-so-sweetly.

"Hey min, happy anniversary," you smile through your tiredness, "shit I should've made a dinner reservation."

"You do enough for the both of us," he takes a break from the stove, crossing the space to embrace you, "besides, expensive food sucks."

You chuckle softly, hugging minho gently. "I made your favorite, and got some wine, thought we could just be together tonight."

"That sound so good right now," you sigh into his chest.

You both stay there for a moment, soaking in each other's warmth. "You're so beautiful," he kisses your forehead, "my beautiful girl."

He pets your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear. "I bought a lavender bath bomb, why don't you go take a bath and I'll call you when dinner is ready?"

You nod into his chest before leaving for your bathroom with a kiss left on his lips as he returns to tending to the pot on the stove.

You run the water, discarding your clothes before sinking into the warm bubbles. The water helps relax you a bit, still mentally tense from a long day. You close your eyes, and nearly fall asleep when three knocks on the bathroom door snap you from your almost sleep. "Hey, dinner is ready," minho says so sweetly as he peaks his head into the bathroom.

You rise up from the tub, drain the water and you pat yourself dry with a towel. You dress yourself in one of minho's shirts and a pair of your own sleep shorts. Joining minho in the dining room. You both eat over silence, you don't need words to tell him how much you love him. He shows you how much he loves you, no words necessary.

"You're so beautiful," Minho stops by you, after putting his dish in the sink, "do I ever tell you that?"

You chuckle, "only every time you open your mouth."

"I should tell you more," he hums, taking your empty plate, putting it in the sink, "you're so beautiful."

You smile, "let me clean up for you, you made dinner it's only fair."

"Call me crazy, but let's wash dishes tomorrow, let's just be together now," he insists.

You nod, agreeing with him. "C'mon let's go lay in bed," he hums.

You join him on your bed, cuddling up next to him. "Here's your anniversary present," he beams, handing you a black velvet box he pulled out of his nightstand.

You sit with your jaw on the floor, the gold ring was absolutely breath-taking. "Minho you really didn't have to-" you begin.

"-it's an engagement ring," he interrupts the ramble you were about to go on.

You stare at him with wide eyes, "you're asking me to marry you?"

He nods, the most loving eyes gazing back at you. "Will you marry me?" he asks with a slight tremble in his voice.

"Yes," you blurt, "absolutely a million times yes."

His face breaks in relief, a smile forming on his lips. He presses his lips against your own, and you can't think of anything better to be honest.

[to-the-stars8]

Learning to Love Slowly

Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3

67- Baths and Colds

Jason pressed his palm flat against your forehead, grimacing when he felt just how hot you were. You’d been sick the past few days, complaining endlessly of your stuffy nose and headache, but overall, you insisted that you would be feeling better soon. That’s why Jason felt fine to leave for a few days, but when he returned he found everything quite the opposite of what you had insisted on.

Usually, your room was clean but now there were clothes thrown about, dishes stacked on the nightstand, and, next to the bed, a waste basket overflowing with used tissues. Upon approach, it was easy to see that whatever you had had taken its toll on you. The color had drained from your face and there was a gleam of sweat across your forehead from the fever. You’d hardly greeted Jason when he told you not to talk anymore since your voice was hoarse and strained. 

“You’re burning up,” He said, pulling the covers from over you, he continued.  “You can’t lay here and get even more sick. Come on, let’s get you into the bath.”

You didn’t protest, but, instead, made groans of displeasure as you were moved. Jason wrapped his arm around your waist as he led you to the bathroom, taking most of your weight. You smelled like sweat, and when Jason’s hand slipped under your shirt he could feel the stickiness of your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, leaning on him as he switched on the bathroom light. Jason told you not to worry as he removed himself from you, working on getting your shirt off. He started to help you with your bottoms before you strictly insisted that you could undress yourself from there. Getting the hint, he turned to the tub. 

Jason waited until the water got to just the right temperature before turning back to you. You were standing behind him awkwardly, leaning against the sink with your arms folded in front of you Standing, he started to lead you to the bath. 

Once you were in, still sniffling and coughing, Jason took a wash rag to rub against your skin, watching as you leaned into his touches. Jason found himself glad that the fear of touching or being near you wasn’t there anymore. It let him do this, to take care of you and there was pleasure in that. So often you sought to make him comfortable, that every chance he got to do the same it felt good. 

Running the rag under your jaw and across your shoulder, you let out a pleased sigh. “Everything hurts.”

Jason chuckled. “I’m sure. You got a nasty cold.”

“Yeah, it sucks.” You mumbled, moving the water around a bit.

Smiling, he leaned over to press a kiss on your shoulder. “You’ll be better soon.”

You didn’t say anything, looking away from your boyfriend to focus on the ripples in the water. Jason washed you, making light conversation by telling you about his day. You didn’t seem to mind listening, commenting now and then on something that interested you particularly. 

“And, then, the guy comes around the corner with a fucking sandwich in his mouth,” Jason laughed. You tried to laugh along with him, but a cough cut you off. The sound was loud and nasty, echoing off the walls of the bathroom. “You want to get out to lay down?”

“I do, but I don’t want to move,” You mumbled, pushing your body closer to the wall. 

Jason hummed, moving from his knees to stand over you. “Wrap your arms around my neck. I’ll carry you.”

You didn’t even have the chance to protest before Jason was wrapping his arms around you. He moved to stand you in the middle of the bathroom, naked, before he wrapped you in a warm towel. 

He patted the towel over your body, making sure every bit of you was dry, before strongly telling you that he would be back and to not move. You didn’t, not because of his orders, but rather that every time you moved you felt like the world was spinning. Your sinuses were stuffed, leaving you with a headache and dizziness. However, nothing felt worse than the embarrassment and guilt. You were sure you smelled and looked horrible and wondered if Jason noticed. You were almost entirely sure he did—He was trained by Batman, after all. And, it was such an inconvenience, you felt, for him to have to take care of you. 

When he came back, you noticed the pajamas in his hands and you were almost horrified that he was now going to dress you. 

“I can do it,” You said, reaching out and taking the clothes from his hands. Jason tried to say that it was alright, but you chose not to hear him. You started with your underwear, bending over to put them on, but suddenly falling forward from a rush of dizziness. Luckily, Jason caught you, pushing you upright and fixing your clothes for you. 

“I’m sorry,” You sniffled, tears welling in your eyes as you felt helpless. 

Jason shushed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up. As he held you he pressed kisses to your temple, bringing you not to your bed but to the living room. You didn’t even have a chance to ask why he had brought you in before laying you down on the couch. He fluffed up some pillows behind your back and pulled a blanket over you. It was then you finally broke. 

“I’m so sorry,” You said, trying not to cry. “You don’t need to do this.”

Jason looked at you, confused. “There’s no reason for you to be sorry, sweetheart, and I want to do this. I want to make sure you’re comfortable. You’ve done it for me so many times, let me do it for you.”

You nodded, still feeling like a bit of a burden, but more comfortable to let him take care of you. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I think I’ll be fine, considering all the things I’ve been through,” Jason chuckled, tucking you in. “Now, just relax here for a while. I’ll be back.” 

You relented, relaxing against the cushion and watching some show you had never seen before. As you lulled between sleep and awake, you’d hear Jason moving about your apartment. A few times you thought about waking yourself up to see what he was doing, but you were too comfortable. You were about to slip into a deep sleep when you heard Jason whispering your name. He said it a couple of times, before stopping, coming over to feel your head, and then leaving. 

“Jason?” You said languidly. The receding footsteps returned and you opened to see Jason crouching next to you. 

“Hey, you’re doin’ better, baby,” He said, reaching out and brushing his hand over your forehead. “Fever’s gone down a bit.”

“That’s good,” You said a bit more coherently. 

Jason hummed. “You wanna be moved to your bed? I changed the sheets so now it’s all clean.”

You nodded, too tired to speak, and reached out to Jason for him to pick you up. He did so without question, holding you close to him as he walked through your apartment confidently. It was almost seconds that he had you in your bed and tucked in. 

“Jason,” You said. He stopped dead in his tracks to come back to you. “Thank you, baby.”

He smiled, bending over to kiss your forehead. “Anything for you. You know that. Now, get some sleep. I’ll make some soup that’ll be so good that you’ll wanna stay sick.”

You wanted to laugh but managed a small smile and a sarcastic remark. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Jason laughed, pressing one more kiss to your head before leaving to let you sleep. You snuggled up into the fresh sheets, still feeling the worst of the cold, but glad that despite being at your worst Jason still would love you like you were at your best.