#but like I feel like I should know how to use a hose by now

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

Days without getting water all over myself while cleaning the penguin enclosure: 0

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One TwentyThree

This Chapter is NSFW

Steve blinks awake; something woke him, some movement. Eddie. Eddie’s half flopped across Steve’s back where Steve’s laid on his stomach. He’s kissing his way across Steve’s shoulders, “twen-ty two,” he whispers haltingly to himself, then another soft kiss, “twe-n-ty three.”

Steve stretches, his shoulders still aching from finishing the pool yesterday. Eddie had helped a little, mostly holding the hose and washing down the sides. Even with Jon as an extra pair of hands it had still taken hours. Steve shifts, dislodging Eddie a little, “what you doing baby?”

“Winning.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “how do you mean?”

“Eddidie try more kisses,” he kisses Steve again, “twen-ty four.”

Steve rolls over, “I didn’t realize giving kisses was a competition.”

Eddie darts forward, kissing Steve on the cheek this time, but Steve manages to grab him and get him back, making Eddie giggle, “Eddidie twen-ty five. Stee One.”

“Oh you come here you cheater, I’m gonna’ win.”

Steve sighs as he hangs up the phone. Keith is a prick, and he’s always going to be a prick, who even works at nine in the morning on New Years day? Steve is certain that the store actually closes for New Years day and Keith has invented that shift just to torture Steve.

And he’s on the close on New Years eve which just...sucks. He sighs again. At least that one is with Robin. It’s like he wants to punish both of them.

“Okay Stee love?”

“I’m okay, but I’ve got to go back to work in a couple of days.”

Eddie frowns, “Eddidie work?”

“I...yeah. Maybe. When you’re ready yeah?”

Eddie looks a little sad, but he agrees, “Stee work time calendar?” Eddie goes off and gets a pen before Steve answers, and then waits, watching as Steve writes the shift times he has so far in the boxes on Eddie’s calendar.

Eddie squints at it, “called am p-m?” He says A M like the word, ‘am,’ and Steve knows he really needs to get onto those books Eddie got for Christmas.

“A.M is in the morning, and P.M is the afternoon. The night time.”

“Nine morning, nine night time?” Eddie asks, pointing.

“You got it baby…what do you want to do today?”

Eddie perks up immediately, “drive car?”

“I...yeah. You know what, fuck it, what’s Hopper going to do, arrest us?”

“Fuck it!” Eddie crows back, a massive grin on his face.

“Huh...I don’t know if I should tell you off or not. It feels like I should but that also feels dumb.”

“Feels dumb. Called arrest?”

“Oh it’s…so if Hopper finds someone who does something bad, he locks them away to keep everyone else safe?”

“Someone who...hurts people?” Eddie volunteers cautiously while they get their shoes on.

“Yeah. Yeah like that. It keeps everyone else safe, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, get your jacket.”

The ruins of Starcourt are pretty comprehensively taped and fenced off...but half the lot isn’t. Eddie eyes the ruin speculatively, “Eddidie in before?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s where you were when I found you.”

Eddie frowns, leaning over to touch Steve’s face delicately, around his eyes, the bridge of his nose,“Stee hurt.”

“I was, but that was ages ago now. I’m fine.”

Eddie accepts that, so Steve sits and explains to him what all the parts of the car do, how to put it in drive, and back into park, and then lets Eddie do it from the passenger seat. Then puts the seat all the way back, letting Eddie lean over to watch his feet, he shows him how to go and how to stop. He doesn’t bother with stuff like indicators yet, not wanting to over complicate things.

Eddie seems alright with all of it, and Steve figures he does trust Eddie; Eddie does pick shit up really really fast.

They swap seats, “okay, so, what do we do first?” Eddie reaches for the key where it hangs in the ignition, “ah ah,” Steve chides. “What’s first?”

Eddie thinks for a second before sheepishly clicking his belt on; Steve does the same, “now?”

“Sure baby, you can go now.”

Eddie starts the car, grinning big as it starts up. Steve watches as Eddie does the brake and carefully puts it in drive, “good?”

“Yeah, go on then, carefully though. Slow.”

“Carefully, slow.”

And Eddie does, the car inches forward, then picks up a little speed. Eddie’s leaning all the way forward in his seat, chest practically pressed against the wheel, both hands studiously at ten and two. They're probably doing all of a brisk walking speed, maybe a jog, but Eddie’s got a massive happy grin on his face. “Okay, turn then,” Eddie does, making random loops across the lot and then back again. “Okay, stop.” Eddie does, carefully shifting his feet. It jolts a little when they come to a full stop, Eddie pressing too sharply.

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay, put her in park.” Eddie does, “okay, good, go on then, go again.”

Eddie does, and they do go a little faster, Eddie slowly gaining confidence.

They stop a few times, Steve explaining about the mirrors and then sets Eddie the challenge of parking the car up between the white lines in the empty spaces.

They go until Eddie’s stomach rumbles audibly, Steve completely having lost track of time, “okay, time to go home.”

Eddie nods agreeably, “home.”

They’re laid on the couch together, Eddie’s holding open one of the kids books he got for Christmas, sounding out the letters and making out the words. He never ceases to amaze Steve with just how fast he picks this stuff up.

Steve helps occasionally, but Eddie seems to be able to, mostly, intuit how the words should sound by working through the letters. He keeps digging Steve with his elbow though, when he shifts to itch his stomach, keeps wriggling around, and it only seems to be getting worse.

“What are you scratching at?” Eddie puts the book down, pulling his shirt up so they can both see; part of Eddie’s stomach looks like it’s peeling, like bad sunburn. It only seems to have been made worse by Eddie’s itching, the skin pink and lined.

Steve hums, “lets go put some cream on that.”

Investigation only revels more patches of dry flaking skin, randomly all over Eddie’s body. Steve was there when Eddie got dressed this morning, so he’s one hundred percent certain that these weren’t here then. The more he looks the more he finds, they’re up Eddie’s back, and under Eddie’s bobble hat looks like the worse case of dandruff Steve’s ever seen.

“I hope you’re not allergic to something.”

“Called allergic?”

“It’s- I. I don’t even know how to explain this,” Steve sighs, “sometimes people...something doesn’t agree with them?” Eddie tilts his head, scratching absently at his thigh, Steve gently pulls his hand away, “don’t itch it. Okay...for some people, just very few, laundry powder makes their skin itchy. For no reason, it just...happens. Or some food. Maybe just one person can’t eat nuts, it’ll make them hurt.”

Eddie frowns, but nods, using his free hand to scratch at his back, so Steve grabs that hand, too.

“We should call Joyce, she might know what to do with the itching.” The cream doesn’t seem to be helping, it’s just making Eddie itchy and greasy at the same time.

“Call Joyce yes.”

“Hello?”

“Oh, hey, Will. Is Joyce home?”

“Sure yeah, just a minute. Can we come over to the store tomorrow? Mike said Nancy said Robin said you’re going back to work tomorrow morning?”

And Steve can hear Mike in his head, ‘and Steve’s at least good for his stupid staff discount,’ “Yeah, yeah sure-”

“Cool so we can come watch stuff tomorrow afternoon?”

“I-yeah,” Steve looks at where Eddie is using a door frame to scratch between his shoulder blades, rubbing back and forth aggressively, “yeah, maybe.”

“Cool, okay, see you tomorrow!”

There’s a moment of quiet, and then, “hello?”

“Oh, hi, Joyce. It’s, uhm...Eddie’s kind of, itchy? Like he’s suddenly peeling all over? Do you know what we could do?”

“Oh...well when the boys had had chicken pox I put them in the bath with some baking soda, that helped?”

“Okay, okay yeah, I’ll give that a go, I just don’t know why this is happening.”

“It does kind of make sense, new born babies peel.”

“They do?” Steve asks, slightly horrified.

“Yeah, yeah, usually happens sort of within the first week, I think. What was his first poop like?”

“I-” Steve stalls for a second, this conversation having just taken a really weird turn, “I don’t know, hang on,” Steve pulls the phone away from his ear, “Eddie?”

Eddie comes over, “Joyce says the peeling is normal, we can go have a bath in a minute, it might make it better, okay?”

“Together?” Eddie asks, and Steve can hear Joyce snickering down the phone, clearly having heard it.

Steve just ignores that whole thing, “what was your first poop like?”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, “green. Sticky.”

Really? Steve thinks, green? Steve puts the phone back to his ear, “did you hear that?”

“Yeah, that makes sense Steve, it all tracks. He’s just like a newborn.”

That is...not appealing, Steve can’t help but think.

Eddie’s skin sloughs off like something out of a horror movie. Once lubricated by the warm water, made to feel slick with the baking soda, it comes away in great curling pieces. Eddie picks at himself with his claw like nails, Steve leaning over the edge and getting all the little flakes with a loofah. Steve gets to Eddie’s feet, and Eddie giggles and tries to drag his foot away when Steve gets to the arch, thrashing in surprise.

“You’re ticklish!” Steve tells him, delighted.

“Not,” Eddie insists, almost immediately.

“Alright, so you won’t mind if I-” Steve pins his ankle in the water, using his other hand to tickle Eddie’s foot.

Eddie thrashes, water going everywhere, “stop. No. Stee, Stee, stop,” he can barely get the words out he’s laughing and thrashing so much, but Steve takes mercy on him and doesn’t do it for long.

Eddie’s still laughing after, trying to catch his breath, wriggling his toes and watching in amazement. Once he’s settled down, he reaches into the water, bending a knee to reach and tickle his own foot, then frowning when nothing happens, “Stee? Not ticklish.”

“Oh,” Steve says the picture of innocence, “let me try?”

Eddie nods, watching, and then instantly fighting again, laughing, Steve’s clothes are wet with splashed water, “Stee Stee noooooo,” Eddie wails, but when Steve stops again he’s grinning, all flush and breathless.

“Ticklish,” Steve tells him.

“Stee ticklish?”

“Nope,” Steve lies confidently, there is no way in hell he’s giving Eddie that one.

“Why ticklish time Stee touch, not ticklish time Eddidie touch?”

“I...you know I don’t actually know why you can’t tickle yourself. Just one of those things, I guess,” he says, shrugging, “right I think you’re all done, most of it’s gone, right?”

“Most of it’s gone, right.”

Eddie’s still flaking the last tiny bits as he dries off, but it seems to be pretty much done; Eddie drops his towel in the hamper, and pouts when Steve makes him put his hat in there too, “it’s covered in skin, we can do laundry and you’ll have it back, okay?”

“Okay. Bed now?”

“It’s too early for bed-” Eddie comes and stands in front of Steve, completely naked, pressing himself forward, holding Steve’s hips, “ohhhhh...bed now. Sure, yep, we can do that.”

Eddie grins, peeling Steve’s damp shirt up, Steve lifting his arms to help. Eddie drops it carelessly on the floor, going next for Steve's pants, pulling everything down in one go and letting it drop so that Steve can step out of it and kick it away. Steve takes Eddie by the hips and walks him back towards the bed.

Eddie goes easily, shuffling his way back, Steve crawling on after him to climb between Eddie’s parted legs, keeping his weight off Eddie and on his forearms, leaning down for more hungry kisses.

Steve feels it when Eddie’s dick slips out, the head nuzzling against Steve’s pubic hair as Steve’s own cock starts to firm up, to fill out. Eddie’s dick isn’t as intimidating now Steve knows it can’t bite him, those little nobbles are too small to do anything, and even when it was holding on as tight as it could to Steve’s thumb, during Eddie’s orgasm, it didn’t hurt at all.

Steve reaches down to adjust himself, pulling his hardening cock up to lie against the crease of Eddie’s hip, rather than being trapped pointing down. Eddie’s cock follows Steve’s fingers immediately, and Steve stops a second to pet it, stroking along the length before he goes back to resting on both arms, leaning in for more kisses.

Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders, parting his legs naturally to accommodate Steve as he settles in, Eddie drawing his knees up a little. The position is close enough that it makes Steve think...makes him remember a thought he'd had from the first time, “can we try something?”

“Eddidie try,” Eddie replies easily.

“Okay, but I need to make you come first, alright?” Eddie nods, clearly very happy with that plan.

Steve hums, thinking. Eddie’s never had sex with anyone else; Eddie is, also, a creature from The Upside Down. Eddie bit Steve’s toes off and it never got infected, and they’ve also kissed and touched a lot and Steve’s never gotten sick, never shown any sign of catching anything. There doesn’t seem to be any possibility that Eddie might be a...carrier, of some sort of disease but...on the balance of probability, Steve figures better safe than sorry. Steve’s been with plenty of girls, but he’s always used protection, so he’s pretty sure that he’s clean but...what if he isn't, and he inadvertently gives something to Eddie? Steve has no idea what Eddie’s immune system might be like and...yeah. Eddie definitely can’t make an informed choice around all this, at least, not yet. So.

He leans over, shifting off Eddie a little to rummage in the top drawer, his fingers fiddling in the box until he manages to pull out a condom.

He leaves the wrapper there on the bed, in easy reach.

“Called?”

“Oh, it’s a condom. I’ll show you what it’s for in a bit, okay?”

Eddie nods, accepting that, before pulling Steve down for more kisses. Soft and sweet, with just a hint of Eddie’s only slightly too sharp teeth. They kiss, Steve taking his time, just enjoying the feeling of Eddie holding him. Eddie’s hands are just as curious as his mind, left to their own devices they roam every bit of Steve they can reach, flowing the dip of his spine and the curve of his ass. Groping and kneading at his shoulders, the tops of his arms. Buried in his hair, scratching gently and tugging lightly. Steve drinks it all in; can feel how much Eddie loves him, how intent every touch is. Like Eddie’s memorizing him.

Like every inch of Steve is precious.

Likewise Eddie’s cock is wriggling back and forward between them, burrowing it's way through the narrow space, the head rubbing against Steve’s hip and then nuzzling into his pubes; he feels it when the head opens, the flower petals pressing against Steve’s skin before moving on. He feels it when Eddie’s cock finds the base of his own, it seems to wriggle around it, the head pressing against one side and withdrawing, only to creep along the other. The petals open, grasping at the hard flesh at the base of Steve’s dick. He moans, rutting against the crease of Eddie’s thigh, Eddie’s dick following the movement, hanging on in a gentle clutch at Steve’s flesh.

Eddie likes it too, if the huffing, breathy little sighs he’s letting out are anything to go by, so Steve doesn’t stop. He lifts enough to look down between their bodies, and Eddie does the same. The black flower petals are a stark contrast against the skin of Steve’s cock; they’ve latched to the side, near the base, and a thick drip of precome stretches a connection between the head of Steve’s cock and the skin of Eddie’s hip.

Eddie starts wriggling, hips lifting, “Stee. Please more? Eddidie come.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve lets his hips rest against the cradle of Eddie’s again, keeping his weight on his forearms he leans in for kisses that Eddie returns eagerly, matching the movements of Steve’s hips with an enthusiastic slide of his own, Steve’s cock slippery wet now with precome, “you close to coming baby?”

Eddie frowns, head tilted back, letting Steve kiss and nip at his throat, “yes no.”

“Okay,” and Steve can’t keep doing this for that much longer, otherwise he’s going to come and that’ll be the end of his idea, “want me to touch you?”

“Yes. Touch good.”

“Okay,” Steve pulls off completely then, letting himself tilt to the side. Eddie’s dick looks like it’s stretched to the absolute limit, clearly not wanting to let go of Steve. Steve reached down, distracting it with the touch of fingers; it goes eagerly. Once Eddie’s dick has let go, Steve rolls the rest of the way to lie on his hip, the same as last time, snugged up against Eddie’s side. He takes Eddie’s eager cock in hand more naturally this time, more sure of what he’s doing.

He kisses Eddie’s cheek, and Eddie turns into it. He’s clearly distracted, his kisses sloppier now, wetter, half the time his mouth hanging open as he pants and moans quietly, Steve’s thumb working circles across the open head of Eddie’s cock.

Eddie whimpers, “okay?”

Eddie shakes his head, frowning, “not-not coming.” He squirms, face crinkled up in frustration and, possibly, discomfort, so Steve stops but Eddie immediately says, “no. More touch,” so Steve starts up the gentle movements of his thumb. Eddie’s hips squirm more, his cock pulsing and twitching, almost bucking in Steve’s hand; he’s so close, Steve knows he is, there’s just something stopping him.

Eddie needs more, and Steve doesn’t know what to do for him; it’s not like Eddie has nipples he can play with, “baby, what do you need?”

“Rough,” Eddie says suddenly, and oh, Steve gets that, maybe his thumbs tugging a little. He sits up, leaning over same as before, letting his mouth fill with spit. He pins Eddie’s cock still, but it’s wriggling so much that only half of it lands on target, the rest spattering on the webbing between Steve’s finger and thumb.

Steve doesn’t have chance to even get his thumb back in place, that’s enough, Eddie’s hips bucking as he cries out, the loudest noise he’s made so far. The flower petals half close, then open a little, doing a weird little celebratory Mexican wave type thing as Eddie’s back arches sharply, and his right leg twitches violently.

Steve just rides it out, letting Eddie’s body lift his own as Eddie’s hips roll again and again. Eventually it passes and Eddie settles, “okay baby?”

Eddie hums, his cheeks flush and his brown eyes bright, “perfect okay.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “all done?”

Eddie nods, then sighs with contentment, “inied.”

“Good,” Steve lets his cock go, it’s almost funny how it sort of lays down, like a little drunk dude just lying right there on the floor. “Still up for trying something?”

Eddie nods.

“Okay,” Steve clambers up, sitting on his knees next to Eddie, he opens the condom and then, pinching the end, carefully rolls it down to the base of his own cock.

“Why?” Eddie asks, watching with interest now.

“Oh it...well. If you were a girl, it would stop you getting pregnant.”

“Called preg-nant?” Eddie sounds the word out slowly.

“Yeah,” Steve pats his own stomach, trying to word it how Eddie might understand, “planting a baby.”

“Eddidie baby,” Eddie points out.

“Yeah, yeah I know, but I mean baby like...tadpole.”

Eddie sits up then, “tell Eddidie many many baby! Baby called tadpole! Eddidie not kid!”

Steve rubs his face, “oh man,” Steve gets Eddie by the shoulders, but he can’t help but smile, “baby is because...I love you, okay? I know you’re not a tadpole. I know you’re not a kid, okay, it’s just...someone special. Someone important. I love you, okay?”

“Okay,” but Eddie doesn’t look like he’s buying it, at all. And Steve’s sitting here with a throbbingly hard dick and it’s not exactly the conversation he wants to be having right this second.

“Okay, moles? Remember how moles are little animals but moles are also this,” Steve points to his neck, Eddie nods, “two different...but it’s the same word, yeah?”

Eddie’s face lights with understanding, and Steve knows he’s won, “okay, yeah. Eddidie baby.”

“Okay...so how do you feel about me putting my dick in you?” Steve shuffles between Eddie’s legs, his hard cock pointing the way to exactly where he wants to be.

“In? Wet?” Eddie questions. He reaches down to indicate what he means, he uses two fingers, his black oval shaped nails part his glistening wet slit in what is, unintentionally, possibly one of the most erotic things Steve’s ever seen. From where he’s kneeling between Eddie’s spread thighs, he gets a good look at just how wet and pink Eddie is inside, flooded with clear, jello like come.

Steve cock twitches, remembering just how tight it was on his finger, he tries to speak and fails, needing to clear his throat, “yeah, in. Do you want to try?”

Eddie nods, lying back and bending his knees more, letting his thighs fall further apart, the mouth of the slit slick and gaping.

Steve takes a deep breath, letting himself sink forward and down, he takes his weight on one hand where he hovers over Eddie. Using his other hand to guide the head of his dick, notching it at the opening of Eddie’s body.

Eddie's hand flies to Steve’s shoulder, gripping hard, so Steve stops, his eyes dragging, with great difficulty, away from where the rounded head of his condom covered dick is just breaching Eddie, “okay?”

Eddie frowns a little, looking worried, “slowly? Carefully?”

“I-yeah, of course. Eddie we don’t have to do this-”

“Eddidie try,” Eddie insists, “Eddidie tell no.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Eddidie tell no,” he says again, “it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay, but you’ll tell me if it does hurt?”

Eddie nods, “Eddidie tell ow.”

“Okay,” Steve looks back down to what he’s doing, allowing himself to slide forward just the most fraction of an inch.

Almost immediately Eddie says, “ow.”

Steve freezes, looking back up. “It doesn’t hurt,” Eddie says innocently.

Steve can tell Eddie’s trying, and failing, to hide a grin, “you’re such a little shit.”

Eddie does laugh then, “little shit. Okay, Steve in now. Promise okay now.”

Steve shakes his head, taking a deep breath, he sinks in. Eddie’s channel is narrow, and it grips the sides of Steve’s cock beautifully. Eddie’s come is so thick and wet it slicks the way, and Eddie is just so fucking warm inside. It’s bliss.

He’s so wet inside that when Steve bottoms out, there’s an obscenely wet squelching noise, and Steve can feel the thick gloop of it dripping out and seeping onto his balls, forced out of Eddie’s body by Steve’s cock. “How does that feel? Okay?”

Eddie opens his mouth, closes it again, like he often does when he’s searching his limited vocabulary. He presses a hand to his stomach, lifting it a little to indicate being bloated or...“after Christmas food.”

“Full.”

Eddie nods, “full,” he shifts then, experimentally rolling his hips, and Steve can’t help but moan at the sucking drag of Eddie’s hole on Steve cock. “Good?”

“So good. You’re so so good for me baby, can I move?”

“Go, yes.”

Steve keeps his weight up off of Eddie, mostly because he wants to watch. When he pulls his cock back out, it’s shiny wet, clumps of Eddie’s slick clinging to the condom like slithers of jello. Steve, cautiously, slides all the way back in.

Eddie sighs, lifting one leg to rest his calf on Steve’s back, changing the angle a little so that Steve’s cock is guided now by the bottom of Eddie’s channel, he’s gripped tight on three sides, and it’s not like anything Steve’s ever felt before.

He already knows this is going to be a short show, but he’s pretty sure Eddie said he can’t come like this anyway, so hopefully he doesn’t mind. The glide is so slick Steve rocks in and out easily, his skin warming, the space between them becoming clammy. Steve can distinctly feel that crease of flesh, the pucker he’d found, dragging up and down the underside of his cock with every thrust.

Eddie holds him tight, one hand gripping Steve’s side, the other on his shoulder before it migrates into Steve’s hair when he leans down to kiss Eddie.

His balls are tight and wet with slick where they're nudging up against Eddie's body, and he’s so close already, he just needs his mouth on Eddie, needs Eddie’s tongue in his mouth when he chokes out a groan, “gonna’ come baby,” against Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie’s eyes are alert and bright, watching with interest. He makes little huffing noises when Steve goes particularly deep but otherwise he’s not showing much sign of actually getting off on this, “yes. Come in Eddidie.”

Steve does, his cock twitching as he grinds up tight to Eddie, filling the condom with sticky mess. He’s a little out of breath as he comes down, panting where his face is buried in the crook of Eddie’s neck; Eddie rubbing his back lovingly, “good Stee?”

“Yeah. Yeah so good baby, thank you.”

“Get cleaned up?”

Steve laughs a little, then forces himself to move, reaching between them to grip the condom at the base so he can pull out. Eddie makes a little chirrup of a noise when Steve’s clear of him, a little shiver running the length of his body and then he stretches luxuriously, arms above his head, wriggling his toes, a picture of contentment. All of his crotch is shiny wet, and as Steve watches his dick sort of rolls over and then slowly withdraws.

Steve pulls off the condom and ties it, Eddie watching with interest, then wrinkling his nose when he sees what’s inside, “taste bad.”

“Well I’ve never had any complaints before.”

Eddie trails after Steve into the bathroom, watching as he ditches the condom in the trash, “called complaints?”

“Uhm...no one else, other people, non of them said it tastes bad.”

Steve’s got the shower going, and when he turns, Eddie’s frown is nuclear, his hands on his hips in a determined Steve pose, “other people,” he repeats icily.

“Oh boy.”

Steve sighs. He’s been back to work for, he checks the clock for about the hundredth time, nearly two hours, and he’s already had enough. He’s almost looking forward to the kids showing up. Not that it isn’t nice to finally spend some time with Robin but...he kind of misses Eddie. It’s probably like, the honey moon stage, or whatever, the first shiny new part of a relationship when all you want it them but...still.

When the phone rings, Robin calls, “I’m not getting that.”

Steve sighs, leaving his stack of returns and leaning over the counter to scrabble for the phone, “hello, Family Video, how can I help-”

“Stee love.”

“Eddie? How did you- never mind, you okay?”

“No. Eddidie ow. Hurt.”

“Okay, I’m coming home, not long.” Steve hangs up, “Robs! I just got to go home a second, that okay?”

“Oh no,” she says from where she’s rolling back and forth on the office chair, waiting for a tape to rewind, “whatever will I do in the face of this horde of customers,” there’s currently one dude in the store, “I shall never cope with-”

“Yeah yeah, back soon.”

Steve doesn’t break any traffic laws on the way home, but he probably pushes it. Eddie’s on the couch when Steve gets in, looking alert and watching for Steve, “you okay?”

“Eddidie hurt,” he says, looking sad suddenly.

“Okay, show me.”

And Eddie stalls. Just for a moment, but long enough for Steve to catch it, before he, vaguely, indicates his tummy.

Steve suddenly has an inkling as to what’s going on here, but he comes to sit next to Eddie anyway, resting a gentle hand on his tummy, “hows that.”

Eddie nods, “good. TV?”

“Oh no. If you’re sick, then no TV. We just have to sit quiet.”

“Dinner food?”

“Definitely not. No. Here, lie down.”

Eddie does, but with a frown on his face, “Stee Eddidie out in car?”

“Nope.”

Eddie’s pout has achieved spectacular levels, “why?”

“Because you’re sick.”

It seems to dawn on Eddie that he has been completely caught out in his lie. Steve watches it happen, the emotions slowly play out. Eddie looks like he’s going through the stages of grief or something.

“How did you get works number? To call me?”

“One book,” it sounds like ‘own book.’

Steve hums, “how did you know which number it was?”

Eddie points to Steve’s vest, where it clearly says ‘Family Video’ over the little breast pocket.

“You’re so fucking clever. But I have to go back to work. You’re fine, aren’t you?” Eddie pouts, “you must never tell lies.”

“Called lie?” Eddie asks, shame faced now, plucking at his sleeve.

“Not true.” Steve tugs at his vest, “this is green. True. This is blue. Lie. Eddie is fine, true. Eddie has an ow, lie. We never tell lies.”

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles.

“It’s okay,” Steve bends down to kiss Eddie on the cheek, “I’ll be back around nine, okay?”

“Steve, you want anything else?”

“No thanks Joyce that was amazing. Here, let me help with dishes, you should sit.”

“No, you’re a guest-”

“Let the kid help-” Hopper starts.

“Because it gets you out of it,” Joyce huffs, but it’s fond, and she leans over and kisses Hop on the cheek.

When Steve gets back, Eddie is sitting on the couch with El, one leg pulled up, his fingers locked together over his shin, “Steve,” she says.

Eddie leans forward, a look of great concentration on his face, “Ste-eee,” he says, but it comes out wobbling and uncertain.

“No, it’s got a ‘v’ in it,” and she makes the ‘v’ sound again, “so, Stee-ve,”

“Vee?” El nods, “Ste-vie?”

Steve’s heart flutters in his chest. Watching them, he feels a strange sense of happiness for Eddie, but also melancholy; he knows he’s about to loose, ‘Stee’. It was inevitable, he knows, Eddie’s getting better at speaking all the time. This was always going to happen.

“Almost, Steve,” she stresses the second part of Steve’s name.

“Steee-vie?” Eddie frowns, looking a bit frustrated that his mouth isn’t cooperating.

“I like Stevie,” Steve says, heading over to them.

Eddie nods, “Ste-vie,” he says proudly, “Stevie love?”

“Sounds good to me,” Steve wedges himself between Eddie and the arm of the couch, then Jon files in and sits on the floor, making room as the coffee table gets shifted. Joyce

Hopper and Mike squeeze onto the other couch, “here kid,” Hopper passes an envelope across.

Out of it fall a drivers license, a passport, a birth certificate. Steve is caught for a second looking at the little picture of Eddie in his wig, and he guesses it works well enough. You have to really squint at the little picture to figure anything is up with it, and even then Steve figures he knows so he's looking for it, and the picture is obviously Eddie. He reads the details on the license, “Edwin!” He says, suddenly outraged, “Munson?! Hopper what the-”

“It’s what it said on the paper!”

“It did not say ‘Edwin’-”

“Eddie is not anyone's name kid, Eddie is always short for something else-”

“Edwin though?!”

“It was the first thing that popped into my head-”

Steve feels Eddie take the stack of papers out of his hands to inspect them, “and Munson? It said Mon-son! With an ‘O’!”

“It did not!” Hopper digs around in his pocket for the scrap of paper Steve had handed him along with the photos, “here, Munson.”

“That’s an ‘O’!”

“Well it looks like a ‘U’!”

“Stevie,” Eddie says carefully, “Stevie love, drive car again now?”

Steve looks over, Eddie’s carefully turning the pages of his new passport, inspecting his license, reading his birth certificate, like all of it is the most precious things he’s ever seen, “yeah,” Steve sighs. “Yeah, yeah of course.” Eddie beams at him.

Hoppers eyebrows are practically in his hair, “what does he mean, ‘again’?”

Part twentyfive

[t-a-a-1]

Dandelion: Prequel

4k Words

One-Shot

Summary: Optimus loves you. You love him. The two of you are too stupid to realize each other's feelings. 

But following a conversation about the afterlife, you realize how much he means to you.

...

A/N: Yearning. Love confession. Jealousy. Optimus confesses but doesn't realize it. You are dumb. Angst and Fluff. Enjoy!

Dandelion: Prequel

.....

Optimus thinks about you.

A lot.

And more than he likes to recognize.

Optimus has learned many things about Earth. You showed him music, art, poetry, literature, and movies. He enjoyed them, mostly because you shared them with him. The archivist in him was hungry for knowledge and you were the chef who satisfied his craving.

He also enjoyed sharing things with you. Of everything he could of Cybertron. The arts, the poetry that sometimes you didn't understand. The history and legends of his people.

He had thought many times of the things he would like to show you once Cybertron is restored. You would love it, he was sure of that. He could take you to see a play or maybe show you the beautiful cascades of Energon or the resting place of the Primes.

Optimus also thought of building you a home. You would be coming to Cybertron often after all. Maybe if you were comfortable enough, you could live with him. That way he could take care of you, just in case you woke up scared from a nightmare. He would cradle you until you fall asleep again and if needed, you could share his berth with him. Cybertron is naturally cold, he could keep you close to his spark to keep you warm.

"I won't live forever you know?"

You were waiting for him to roll into your driveway. He had promised you to do this for a very long time now and there's no way escaping it.

"I am aware," he says as he swiftly moves forward. "Your life expectancy is rather short."

"The more reason I have to clean you up," you walk towards him. "I may die tomorrow and you may live on without a proper bath? Not in my watch."

You had two buckets of water and a hose ready to be used. Some soap, sponges and rags. The buckets were heavy as you struggled to pick them up, you somehow still managed to whistle a song as you made your way to him.

He didn't understand how you could look so content while talking about your death. Optimus couldn't even phantom the idea. Much less imagine a day when you won't be with him. He had grown too accustomed to your presence. His spark had grown too fond of you.

In fact, you had occupied so much space in his spark that he knew that it wouldn't be able to function without you.

What will he do once you are gone?

"Where will you go?"

He asks as he feels the warm water impact his windshield and hood. It was nice to think you took the time to heat up the water just to make him comfortable.

"What do you mean?" you ask as you put soap on the big sponge and start rubbing it around. You had to use a small stool to reach the top of his hood. This is the first time you were doing this and you were trying to be extremely gentle. You had to remind yourself that Optimus is still a biological being. His body may be made out of metal but he still feels everything.

"Once I stop functioning, I am certain my spark will become one with the AllSpark," he makes a small pause before continuing "But what about you? Where will you go once you die?"

You stop and look at him.

"Will it be a place where I can meet you? See you at least?"

Contemplating what to do, you look at the sides to make sure no noisy neighbor is listening to you talking to a truck. You look back at him and wonder if you should tell him the truth or lie a little. He sounded worried. It is no wonder that he perceives death differently. For him, it was just another transformation. To you ... Well, you didn't know nor could explain the finality of death. You didn't want to worry him.

"Human souls work differently," you say as you go back to wash him. This time more delicately, trying to feel each inch of scratch he has ever gotten. War was written all over his body. "We don't go to a specific place. But I think we become one with the universe."

"Whenever you feel the wind on your faceplate," you lie to him but there's enough hope in your voice to comfort him. To make him believe you. "Whenever you see the rain or snow, when you see a rainbow, a flower or star. That's where I will be. Always."

It's comforting to know that everything beautiful the universe has to offer, is because of you. Of course, it would be. How couldn't it? When you smile the sun becomes brighter. When you laugh, the sound becomes a melody. You were alive and made life so breathtaking because of it. He imagined your death would be the same. Eternally beautiful as you become one with the universe.

He ex-vents in relief and you smile. Your lie was good enough. He believed it.

Nothing else was said but spent the rest of the time in a comfortable silence. You took your time to really study him. He has many scratches, some parts of his paint were even gone and you wonder if he had insecurities about them.

After all, if humans did, what made Cybertronians different?

You ran a finger through a large scraping on the top of his hood, feeling each small bump. The scrapped metal is rough against your fingertip, wondering what had attacked him to make this much damage.

"Are they not of your liking?"

For a small second, you could hear the doubt in his voice.

"Oh, no, I-"

As soon as you are about to respond, a sports car passes by, honking loudly and making the sound of its motor as loud as possible. Although you were uncomfortable you didn't want to give the guy the satisfaction of receiving attention. But you were now self-conscious of what you were wearing, Shorts and a dirty old black shirt. You wonder how was this even attractive.

"Hey, beautiful!" the guy rolls down his window and you feel the urge to wipe the smirk off his face. "Wanna ride this instead of that old rusty truck?"

You were about to defend yourself until you heard Optimus's engines turn on, the sound of his motor was so piercing that you felt your entire being vibrate. He turns his headlights as well, bright and powerful, almost blinding the guy.

Turning to look at Optimus, you see his holoform taking the pilot seat. You hated that holoform but it will do.

"Sorry, but my husband is quite overprotective."

You tell the guy, hoping he will take the hint and leave you alone.

"Well, if you ever want a good time, I am always available," his words disgusted you but you are glad he is finally leaving. "That truck got nothing on my car anyways."

Optimus moves forward in an aggressive manner. You are surprised at his behavior but don't question it.

"Thank you," you say as you step down off your stool.

You made sure that Optimus was covered in soap before taking the hose and letting the water flow.

"I don't know why every guy with a nice car has to act so weird."

"Oh, so you did find that car to be visually appealing?" He asks. "I would understand. After all, you might prefer an automobile with more agreeable qualities for someone of your age."

"Is that jealousy I hear, dear husband?"

You liked to tease him and even flirt with him from time to time. Mostly, you knew that nothing would ever happen. It was stupid to think that a Cybertronian and a human could ever be something more than just close friends. You assumed Optimus thought the same.

He had to.

"Just mere curiosity," he says as he feels the water running through his body, watching off all the dirt. It felt nice. "And what is a husband?"

"A life partner. Husband and wife usually take care of each other until the end of their days," that was the simplest way you could explain such a concept. "And I prefer Cybertronian men if you ask me. Even old rusty trucks."

"Can I conclude that you know other Cybertronian males who are old rusty trucks besides myself?

"No, just you."

Although you couldn't see his faceplate, you knew he didn't mind the comment. The two of you had joked around before and Optimus can definitely take a joke.

"So, you do indeed believe me to be an old rusty truck?"

"Yes, but you are my old rusty truck."

Optimus didn't know why but he enjoyed the sound of that.

"And that makes all the difference."

.

.

.

The hospital wasn't like you remembered. You had grown used to being in a military facility and being taken care of by soldier medics. Not only because of the Decepticon attacks you had faced before but because you had seen your fair share of war while reporting for the news.

"OH YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE NOW!"

The last person you expected to see was Agent Fowler. Stepping inside your room, with a suitcase on hand and documents on others.

"I am fine thank you," you say as you sigh heavily. "The car crash didn't kill me and no Autobots were involved... so why are you here?"

"Because I have a very bothered Prime demanding to see you, saying that as your husband he has a right to know of your well-being."

"... What?"

"Look, I knew you and Prime had something going on but this has become a national matter," he shows you the documents he was holding but your head still hurts and don't feel like reading at all.

"If you and Prime are indeed married then by law I have to let him come see you. Do you know how hard we have worked to keep the Autobot's existence a secret?"

"And since when does the government of the United States care bout following their own laws?" you look around your room. You hoped to see another change of clothes but nothing. You were in desperate need of a shower. "Look, this is all a misunderstanding, I'll talk to Prime."

"It better be. We don't want to deal with court cases about deciding which constitution laws will apply to non-human beings," Fowler was moving the documents very aggressively and you assumed those were drafts of new laws to be reviewed. He works fast.

"Do you know how many laws we would have to re-write if you and Prime were to be married? Don't even get me started if you two were able to conceive a child."

"You better than I know that's never going to happen."

"I don't know the way Prime was begging to see you didn't seem normal," he put the documents in his suitcase and for once you were glad to see him go. "If I was you, I would hurry up. I don't want Prime to cause a commotion because he can't see his wife."

"I am not his wife," you say again, the term annoying you a bit.

Fowler just rolls his eyes and opens the room's door.

"Yeah, yeah, just hurry up Mrs. Prime."

.

.

.

The drive back to the base was unexpectedly quiet. When you saw Optimus parked outside the hospital parking lot, you thought you would be bombarded with questions.

Instead, Optimus just opened his pilot door and let you in. Nothing else. You didn't even dare to ask him to take you home. You just let him do what he pleased.

You two arrived at the base's tunnel. He stopped before reaching the hangar. He opened the door and you assumed he wanted you to get out. You were worried by his strange behavior.

As soon as you got out, he changed back to his normal form. He didn't hesitate to kneel in front of you. His optics look at every inch of your body, examining you.

"How are you feeling?"    He asks you but there is a certain coldness in his voice.

"I am fine, thank you."

He stands up, his optics still on you.

"You shall remain here until the next sun cycle. To make sure of your well-being."

He turns around and starts to walk away.

"Are you alright?"

You run towards him, your head still hurts but you want to talk to him. His indifference hurts more than you imagined.

"You lied to me."

You were confused. Speechless. Has he found out? That the only reason you were helping the Autobots to find the ancient relics is because you were waiting for the right moment to expose them? That you had a notebook in your home, with all the evidence you have so far of the existence of robot alien life? That every day you were waiting for the final piece of the puzzle. The last thing you need before revealing the truth to the world.

"While at the hospital, Mrs.Darby approached me and briefed me about your status. We talked, and she informed me that there are no scientific conclusions on Earth that your soul can become one with the universe."

You weren't expecting that.

"She said that your soul may be going to an unreachable dimension or just become nothing."

You didn't know what to say. There was a certain hurt look on his optics that you couldn't believe. He is grieving. It's the closest thing you have seen him in pain. But you couldn't say a thing. You weren't expecting this would affect him so much.

"Prime, I just ... I just didn't want to-"

"My apologies," he stops you and turns around. He didn't want to see you. That made your heart sink. The thought of disappointing him, of inflicting any type of pain was unimaginable to you.

But why?

"I just need a moment to myself."

.

.

.

A few days had passed. You hadn't talked to Optimus. But today was Friday and as per usual, you made your way to the rooftop, outside of the base. It has become a spoken agreement between you and the leader of the Autobots. To meet every Friday and just enjoy each other's company.

You two usually go on patrol night before and end up talking until sunrise. But today Optimus had left the base early, leaving you unattended. You took the time to go to the closest gas station and get yourself a pack of cigarettes and Optimus's favorite brand of oil. With the hope that he will still meet you.

But the hours passed and you had waited. You started a bonfire and lit up a cigarette.

More time passed and you became worried. Was he still upset? The day had become dark, the night was cold and you missed him. Stupidly so.

And you feel pathetic.

You were about to give up until Optimus finally showed up. He looked surprised to find you there. Probably thinking that you didn't want to see him either. When, in fact, it was all the contrary.

He didn't say a word as he sat next to you. You quietly put a small bucket of oil next to him. Of course, he noticed you and accepted the gesture.

You are about to take another puff from your cigarette when you see Optimus' servo reach out towards you. Using two digits, he takes the cigarette from your hand and throws it on the bonfire before you.

"Hey, I was-"

"Ratchet has informed me that this object you inhale from can reduce your lifespan significantly," Optimus slightly lectures you and you can sense some anger in his voice. "I see no meaning in you engaging in such activities."

"I am here for a good time not a long time," you say as you search in your backpack for the cigarette box. Marlboro wasn't your favorite cigarette brand but it was the only one that had menthol flavor at the gas station. "A very, very short time compared to yours."

You wanted to somehow go back into the topic of the afterlife. Anything that could open the conversation so you can have an opportunity to apologize. You wanted to hear him too, his thoughts. You wanted to know if he still finds your company enjoyable. If things were right between you two.

"You know, it kinda makes me sad that you'll probably forget me one day," you use a lighter for the cigarette, feeling piercing optics coming from Optimus. "And there's nothing I can do about it."

"I don't believe my processor will ever be capable of erasing memories related to you."

"How are you so sure?"

"I'll always have you in my spark," Optimus doesn't look at you but rather stares into the bonfire. His optics follow the dancing of the flames. He speaks freely.

"Even after I rust away and turn into nothingness. Once my spark has joined with the Allspark, it will still remember you. Even after the last star in the universe bursts into oblivion, my spark will reach you and it will call your name."

You are about to take another puff from your cigarette but his words stop you. Eloquence was not unknown to the Prime, he speaks it rather fluently but you didn't imagine it like this.

"I remember you now and I'll remember you then."

It seems he was on autopilot. It wasn't Optimus speaking but Orion Pax.

The bot who once knew how to love, the one who had dreams and hopes and was free to be himself. Without the pain in his shoulders, without responsibilities. No. This was not Optimus Prime. It was not Orion Pax. It was someone else.

His spark.

It was talking directly to you.

"My spark will look for you and I'll know it's you even if I was blind and deaf. Even if I ripped off my sense of smell and touch. I'll know it's you because not even time or death could take you away from me."

It's like he came back to himself. He blinks repeatedly after staring at the flames for too long. It was as if he was in a trance and when he turned to look at you, he noticed your cheeks. A little more redder than usual.

And all you could think of was him. Of the purity of his words. Of his beautiful being, of everything of him. His kindness, his truth. How he had changed your world with simple words. It was just him and this moment. United in this time. And you thought that maybe the reason you had been born was only to meet him. To hear those words that will forever be engraved in your heart. Will he ever know how much it means to you?

You weren't a believer. You used to be, when you were younger and less experienced. Before you witness war. Now you don't believe in anyone or anything.

But you believed in him. If anyone could make the impossible happen it was Optimus.

If he says he will find you in the afterlife, you know he will.

He made you believe.

You feel relieved to know that your existence meant more to the universe. That there's more than just finality, your soul will travel somewhere and have an impact on the bigger scale of things.

And if not ... then at least you could spend all of eternity with Optimus.

Your heart had finally begun to feel hope again.

And maybe something more than that.

Oh.

"Are you alright?" He asks, concern in his voice. "It seems you are overheating-"

"YOU GUYS CAME HERE ON A DATE WITHOUT TELLING US?!"

You shake a little and Optimus immediately moves closer to you in a very protective manner. The unknown voice startled you both although Optimus is always alert in a different way.

He immediately relaxes as his optics lay on the known small figure. You kinda wished he had stayed closer.

"Miko, leave them alone!" Jack comes out of the rooftop door, following Miko close behind. "Besides that's the whole point of a date. Let them enjoy it."

"Oh, no, you actually missed it!" you decide to amuse the kids, knowing that Optimus probably wouldn't mind you playing along.

"Prime just proposed and I said yes! We are getting married and having a bunch of human-cybertronian hybrid sparklings!"

You giggle a little, saying that out loud sounded ridiculous.

"Aha! I knew you two had a thing! Optimus always cleans his windows when he knows you are coming!" Miko turns to look at Jack and points at him. "You owe me a free meal!"

"She's not serious!" Jack says with a hand on his hip, frustration is clear. "Besides Ratchet said Earth didn't have the necessary resources for (y/n) to conceive."

"Wait, wait, wait," you throw away your cigarette into the bonfire, not wanting to be a bad influence and smoke in front of the kids. "You two talk to Ratchet about us?"

"Well, yes," Miko says. "He also bet cleaning duty-"

"Ahh, tsk,tsk!" coming from the rooftop door, the medic bot pops out. "Not talking behind my back! I did not bet on anything!"

"Yes, you did!" Miko points at the Autobot leader as Ratchet fully steps outside the door. "You said Optimus would never confess!"

"Is that true, old friend?"

Finally, Optimus speaks. He doesn't seem angry but confused.

"I-umm," Ratchet stumbles with his words until the realization hits him. "WAIT, YOU DID!?"

"No," Optimus says. "My feelings for (y/n) are strictly platonic."

"Ha! I win!" the medic turns to look at the kids. "You two will be doing cleaning duty."

Optimus sees you laugh with the kids. A scene that warms his spark. He can't guarantee tomorrow so he will treasure the now. Then maybe, if the stars align, he will gift you the strange flower he found.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N: Sorry for any mistakes I made, I don't proof read lol.

In this story, I originally intended for Optimus to have this big realization but Dandelion was already too long and rushed for my liking.

But, I think he has loved the reader for way longer than he realizes and  when he does realize it...

 Uff. He feels like a complete idiot and begins yearning for you like crazy.

I think Optimus would be devastated at the thought of one day losing you. He just doesn't know he would feel like that.

But I think my version of Optimus and Reader is that both of them are very oblivious to each other's feelings. Because in their mind, there is no way a Cybertronian and a human could ever share intimate feelings.

So they just go around each other thinking, 'Oh, this is a person whose company I enjoy very much' and 'Caring so much for this individual is absolutely normal ... Right?"

Dandelion was supposed to be a one-shot story but due to the support given I decided to write a prequel for it.

Sadly, I don't think I will write a continuation of the story. This is to prevent any more spoilers for the current fanfic I am writing 'The Darkest Hour.'

This prequel already gave out too many spoilers as it is and as I was writing this I had to stop myself from integrating certain scenes I wanted to write.

For example, Optimus finding out that human souls actually go nowhere goes completely different.

He can't understand the finality of death and he grieves for months at the thought he may not see you in the afterlife. He makes his research, anything, any sign that your soul and his spark might reconnect again.

And one day he sees you throwing away some of your things (you were cleaning your house) And he goes through the trash and asks you if he can stay with the things.

You tell him no because those things were trash (to you) they were like old used notebooks, empty boxes, pens, old clothes and make-up. He starts gathering things up but you take them away and he very anxiously tells you:

"Why are you so cruel to me? I only wish to preserve your memory once you are gone. You have taken my spark, do you also wish to take what's left of my sanity once you leave my side?"

Of course, he later on realizes that his love for you is so intense and real that he is certain his spark will meet your soul once again.

Dandelion may have come to its definite end but if you really want to read more then I do recommend reading 'The Darkest Hour' although it is a slow burn, it will have this type of content but more improved and polished.

ALSO

Requests are open so if any of you have any prompt ideas, you may inbox me or send me a message on this account. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, everything is welcome! I can write small drabbles and other stuff.

And once again, I want to thank you all for your kind support! I am very new to Transformers and I didn't think I would be good enough to write fanfiction of it. But all of you have been extremely kind and I'll continue to write things that make me and all of you happy. Thank you for reading!

And I'll see you next time :)

Dandelion Pt.1:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/768702467874684928/dandelion?source=share

You can also read my other stories in here or Ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachesandream

Thank you!

[princessfbi]

bucktommy + “come here”

Bucktommy

"Come here."

No matter how many times Tommy did it, Buck didn't think he'd ever get used to the slight thrill that rushed through him when Tommy's fingers tucked under his chin and lifted his head.

He just wished it was under different circumstances. The wide worry in the cobalt blue that Buck could've sworn were one eyelash bat away from sweeping him up like a hurricane turned icy and hard in an instant. Fury rippled through Tommy's expression as his movements turned stilted and uncompromising, shifting Buck's chin further up and to the side so he could get a better view of the bruises. The same bruises he'd been hoping to put off from showing his boyfriend for as long as possible.

But after three months of going slow before becoming official, there wasn't much Buck could hide from his boyfriend these days.

It was usually something he loved. Tommy made him feel seen in a way he didn't know he wanted to be seen until one night in his kitchen during quiet confessions and a similar instance of Tommy's fingers tucked under his chin.

Tommy wasn't kissing him then though. In fact, besides the firm weight of his fingers, he looked almost... devastated. Resigned.

"He did this to you?" It was a question even if Tommy didn't say it like it was. Buck pulled away from the prop of Tommy's fingers and ducked his chin down as he cut his eyes to the floor.

"It's not a big deal." He tried to step back so the lie wouldn't land on Tommy and stain him too. But Tommy's hands, his big beautiful hands, curled over his waist and pulled him back to him.

"Evan!" Tommy's eyes flashed with something Buck couldn't quite catch but that was probably because he was still too busy being starstruck by the way Tommy said his name.

He loved how Tommy said his name. Like it mattered. Like it was important. The only other people who ever managed to handle the weight of his name without the normal strain had been Maddie and Eddie and they had witnessed to all the ways life had added more pressure to the load.

Tommy said his name like it was effortless.

Still, Tommy sounded upset and that was the last thing he wanted to do so he shook his head and met his gaze again.

"It's really nothing. I should've been watching where the hose line was."

Tommy's brow arched and Buck could see he didn't believe him. "The hose line? Seriously?"

Buck leaned into Tommy's hold and settled his hands on his chest, rubbing up and down so Tommy knew that Buck was fine. Really. He was fine.

"I clipped my face on an open compartment door. Hen checked me out. Nothing's broken. I promise that I'm fine. It's just a little bruise. It's nothing I can't handle."

Anger flared in Tommy's expression again as his jaw ticked. "You shouldn't have to."

And no, he shouldn't. Buck should have been coming home from a shift where his muscles were sore but his heart and stomach were full from another shift in the greatest job he'd ever had where Bobby was his captain and they had family dinners that didn't feel like hostage situations.

But everything would get fixed. Bobby would figure how to get back to his team and they would be waiting for him. He had to believe that.

Buck thought about pretending like he didn't see exactly what had taken root in Tommy's worry. But Tommy wasn't the only one who could see things other's couldn't.

"Baby," Buck said as he cupped his cheek. "You got out."

"He's doing this to you because of me." Tommy bit out.

"He's doing this because we aren't scared of him." Buck corrected. "None of us are."

They'd all been practically daring Gerrard to suspend them. Hen had been the first to point out how it wouldn't be so easy to get rid of them now that the chief had made a media frenzy of their crew. Gerrard may have been in charge but they didn't bend like they used to under the sharp oppression of his command. They clashed into a bruising, straining stalemate that didn't have an end date anytime soon.

But the team would hold. It's what Bobby would've wanted.

That didn't mean Gerrard didn't make their life a living hell.

Tommy frowned as he let out a long breath from his nose, his hands coming up to circle Buck's wrists so he could kiss the bolt of his palms.

"Ice," Tommy said decisively. "You need ice so I can kiss you properly."

Buck grinned despite the pain that pulsed along his cheek where he was sure the purpling bruise looked worse than it was.

Gerrard could say or do whatever he wanted to Buck. It wouldn't change the fact that, at the end of the day, Buck had Tommy to come home to and could kiss wherever he wanted. And Buck would do whatever it took to keep Tommy away from the dark cloud that was his former boss. The same boss who made him so afraid to be seen that he'd hid for years.

Buck would take a million bruises to the face before he ever let that happen.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#375

“Hey shithead, get over here.  I got some news….  You look like shit.  Come here.  Kneel.  Reach in and take out my dick.  I’ve got to take a piss.  Drink up and listen.  A buyer put in an offer, and it was accepted.  You’ve been sold.  I wasn’t expecting for a chunky slave to sell after only one day of showing, but that big truck driver made a full offer.  He’ll be back later on tonight.  He made some demands….

“He wants you cleaned up on the outside and loaded up with loads from many men on the inside.  I’ll bring the hose around in a bit.  Sir Hank will be down in a bit to bring you some soap.  He’s also going to make that cage permanent, by riveting it on.  Your dick will be useless going forward.

“Do you remember how many men unloaded in your cunt so far this morning?...  Four?  Good.  Hank and I will each provide one.  With you off the market, it’ll be difficult to get men in here just for a fuck. 

“I called a buddy.  You’re not his type, but he’ll bring his slave and fuck him instead.  When he’s ready to nut he’ll just shove it into you.  Or maybe he’ll use a condom with his own slave and then squeeze the load into you.

“Oh wait a minute….  Let me see….  There’s one…  two….  There are a couple of used condoms in the trash can here.

“Bend over and lean against the wall.  Present your cunt.  I have no idea how long these loads have been here, whose load is in them, or even if they were used on you or the slave that was in here last.  You are getting their spooge contents now….  Damn, you have one hell of a gape, which should make the squeezing in of the loads easy. 

“That truck driver has one of the biggest dicks I have ever seen.  He’s great to work with.  Prompt payments.  And most of all he seems to want the fat slaves, or the weird ones.  He’s an intermediary for several buyers out west.  You’ll probably end up on this pig farm where you will be force fed until you bulk up, and then installed in a pig pen with other real pigs.  Castration is most likely.  Not just the balls but your shaft too.

“There, both loads are in you….  Oh, I missed this condom here….  I didn’t realize that our clients used so many rubbers.  I guess it makes sense. 

“The other possible buyer that trucker uses is in Oregon.  He’s one of those militia types, but one who likes fat fags chained up in his basement.  Don’t know that much about him other than he’s a sadistic bastard.

“There!  Three anonymous loads in your cunt.  Get ready, this will probably be my last time for me to breed you. 

“Jesus!  He stretched you out.  All these loads are making this one loose sloppy hole….  This isn’t going to work.  Clamp down then spin around.

“Get me off with your toilet mouth….  You look grossed out.  That’s the cum stew from your cunt.  Clean me off before you get me off.

“That’s it.  Don’t fucking gag.  This is your life now.  Good boy.  You are an ass eating, piss drinking, cum dump slave.  Whoever you wind up with, they are going to do way worse nasty stuff to you.  This is what you do.  This is what you are.

“I’m going to miss your tongue.  That’s what made you sellable.  Does it ever feel good on my dick!  Work it!  Fuck!  I’m going to cum in no time.  Keep licking my balls when I go in deep.  When I tell you, spin around so I can dump in your cunt.

“I wish all slaves could have a tongue like yours.  When you eat my shitter, it really makes my hole quiver.  I don’t know what you do back there, but man does it feel good.  You always gave me your eagerness to please, and you do so no matter how shitty you were being treated.  That’s so hard to find in slaves. 

“I’m getting close.  I’m getting close.  Now! Give me that cunt!

“Urg! Uh! Uh! Ahhh! Jesus! Fuck!  Damn slave.  I gave you a large load to add to the stew you have brewing….

“Clamp down then clean me off….  There you go.  Fuck that was hot.  There’s some sludge in my pubes; get that….  I have to piss again.

“Ahhh!  When I’m done stand up….

“…Slave, I am going to miss you.  You know, if we were in a different situation, I would put you on a diet and a rigorous exercise regimen.  I would have you as my boy. 

“Don’t tell anybody what I’m about to do.  Don’t pull away; I want to kiss you…. 

“…Like that.  Now you treat your new owners the way you have treated me.  If you are lucky, they won’t torture you too much.  I wish you the best.”

[sissylittlefeather]

@deltafalax Girl, you know I gotchu! This one took a minute to nail down, but I think it turned out okay. I hope you love this dirty little ficlet!

One Night (of Sin)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, age gap (everyone is legal, but reader's got a good 15 years on Elvis), kissing, cussing, oral sex (m receiving), swallowing, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, stranger sex, creampie

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You've never been to the Presley home before, but their normal cleaning lady is out with the flu, so your boss asks you to step in. You agree for two reasons: you need the money and you're curious about the young man whose meteoric rise to fame has landed him in the lovely house on Audubon Drive. Still, you don't expect him to be there when you knock on the door.

"Well, hello." He smiles genially and then lets his eyes wander over you. "Can I help you?"

"I'm here to clean. Ida is sick, so I'm filling in."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear she's not well. Not sorry you're filling in, though." Your eyebrows shoot up at his obviously flirtatious tone. "Come on in, honey."

You make your way into the house and look around. It doesn't look like there's too much to clean, but you make some notes as you survey the place. As he shows you around, you realize he's alone.

"Your folks aren't home?"

"Nah, they went to Tupelo to visit some family. Is that a problem?"

"Oh, no, that's fine. I just wondered. I suppose I'll get to work." He nods and makes his way to a recliner.

"Mind if I watch?" You blush, but he doesn't scare you.

"Elvis, I'm almost old enough to be your mother."

"Ah, but you're not quite, are you? And besides, you're a pretty little thing. I'm not worried about how old you are." You sigh and shake your head, smirking at him.

"You're trouble." A cocky smile spreads across his face as he drops into the chair and props his feet up.

"Not me, ma'am. I'm a good Christian boy."

"Mhmm. Now I'm gonna get to work."

"Do what you need to do. I'll stay out of your way." You nod and get to work, starting in the kitchen. The next room you move to is the living room and he's still in there lounging in his recliner. He watches as you move about dusting and wiping down trinkets. You feel his eyes on you and decide to push him a little.

"Elvis, honey, if you don't quit watching me, I'm gonna give you somethin' to look at." He sits up a little and smiles, one hand in his lap and the other at his lips.

"I bet you won't." You laugh out loud and look back at him slyly.

"I'm not the woman you want to play this game with."

"Oh, I think you are, honey." He sits up a little more and licks his lips. You shrug and drop your feather duster on the table. Then, you unbutton the front of your dress and slip it off of your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. His mouth pops open, but his eyes sparkle with a devilish shine. He runs his gaze over you, taking you in as you stand there in your bra, panties, garter belt, hose, and shoes.

"Does this make you uncomfortable?" You ask with a false pout.

"Not at all. Keep going." He lays back again in the chair and puts his hand in his pocket. You have a sneaking suspicion he's got his hand on his cock, but you don't ask... yet. Instead, you unhook your garter belt and roll your hose down off of your legs. Then, you reach behind your back and unclasp your bra, letting it fall forwards off of you and onto the floor with your dress. As your breasts bounce free, he makes a noise in his throat that's somewhere between a moan and a grunt.

"Now are you uncomfortable?" He smiles again.

"Two can play at this game, doll." You watch as he unzips his pants and pulls out his rock hard dick, stroking it slowly in his hand. "Should I stop?"

"No, honey, you just keep doing what you're doing." You feel your panties get noticeably wetter as you watch him pump himself. He moans softly and uses his thumb to collect a bead of precum from the head of his cock. Your mouth begins to water, so you walk towards him. He watches as you approach and his breath hitches when you push the recliner down with your foot and settle between his knees.

"What're you doin'?"

"Does this bother you?" You put both hands on his knees and run them up toward the place where he holds himself in his hand.

"No..." He whispers, watching you carefully. Slowly, you lean forward and take him in your mouth. "Oh, fuck, baby."

You move up and down on him, opening your throat and pushing him into you fully, pressing your nose into the hair at the base of him. He groans again and his hips buck up into your warm, wet mouth. You back off of him for a bit.

"Should I stop?"

"Fuck, no, baby. Don't ever stop." He throws his head back and opens his mouth as you suck his cock. He's been with girls before, but never one as skilled as you when it comes to using your mouth. He runs his hand into your hair and holds it as he thrusts into your throat and your eyes water. You moan and the vibration almost pushes him over the edge.

"Shit, baby, that's good." You run your tongue up the bottom of his shaft and make a circle around his sensitive head. You go back to bouncing on him and he grunts.

"You wanna cum, honey?" You coo as you lick him.

"Fuck yes, doll. Yes, I do." His hips buck again and he whimpers. "God, don't stop."

You smile as you suck him, knowing he's close. After a few more seconds, he cusses loudly and throws his head back with his lips parted slightly. You feel him pulse and then he shudders and cums hard, shooting his release into your throat as you swallow it.

"Oh, goddamn, shit, fuck!" You swallow every last drop and he bucks into you, moaning and whimpering. When you finish and pull off of him, he tips your chin and looks into your face.

"Did I make you uncomfortable?" You smirk and ask innocently, satisfied that you've won the game. But he's determined.

"I'm winnin' this. Fuck." He stands up and grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder to carry you to the bedroom. You squeal and giggle as he carries you. He slaps your ass and then tosses you on the bed, stripping his clothes off quickly. You notice that he's still pretty hard, despite his earlier orgasm. Ripping your panties off and tossing them to the side, he climbs on top of you and enters you, pushing deep inside you in one move. You're shocked at how hard he is, but then you remember that he's 21 years old. Of course he's ready to go again. You moan and arch your back as he pounds you relentlessly.

"How's that, baby?" He whispers breathlessly.

"Yes! Yes! Elvis! Don't stop!" He groans as you wrap your legs around his waist while he slams into you. You feel his cock rubbing against your g-spot and you want to scream with the nearness of your orgasm. He grabs your legs and guides them until your calves are on his shoulders and he hits you so hard it feels like you might break in half, in the best way possible. The size of his cock is impressive and you feel every inch of him as he slides in and out of you passionately.

Two more thrusts and your orgasm slams into you, rushing through you from your core to your fingertips like so much electricity.

"Fuck! Elvis! Yes!" You scream as you cum on his dick. The feeling of you pulsing around him is enough to throw him over the edge again and he cums hard inside you, painting the inside of you with ropes of his hot release. He holds you to him, trembling, as he comes down from his high and kisses your forehead, your cheek, and then your mouth.

"Wow. Just... wow." He seems to be rendered speechless as he rolls onto his back next to you on the bed. You both lay there sweating and breathing heavily. As you move to get out of the bed, he grabs you and pulls you back down into the crook of his arm. "Where ya goin?"

"I figured your folks would be home soon and I still need to finish cleaning."

"Aw, no baby don't worry about that. Stay here with me. Talk to me." You look up into his face as he kisses your fingertips. The vulnerability on his face is surprising. He almost seems desperate for you to stay with him and it feels good to be in his arms, so you don't think twice. You settle in with him wrapped around you and his lips on your forehead and spend the next few hours talking until you both fall asleep.

The next morning, as you get up, he opens the door to retrieve your clothing from the living room. However, he's shocked to find them neatly folded in a pile outside his door, your feather duster sitting next to them.

"Shiiiit."

"What?" You call from the bed.

"My mother..." You walk over and see your clothes carefully folded. Your hand goes to your mouth and you have to suppress a laugh.

"Are we in trouble?" He looks at you somewhere between concerned and amused.

"I am. You better sneak out before she finds you here."

"Oh... okay..." He grabs you and pulls you in close to him.

"I'd let you stay, but she'll drill you with questions. Can I see you again?" You hesitate.

"I'm not sure that's wise."

"Alright, then." He kisses you deeply one last time before helping you sneak out of the house.

That wasn't what you were expecting at all when you agreed to clean the Presley house. Still, you wouldn't change it for the world. But damn, you left your feather duster. Looks like you'll have to go back sometime.

Elvis stands in his room with your feather duster in his hand, a smug look on his face. Now you'll have to come back.

******

The End

[ashipiko]

NIKO CIMARRON - SCHOOL-SIDE STAYCATION!

SUMMON LINE: I don’t usually host things… But I do like the feeling of being co-host here.

additional voicelines below!

GROOVY: Oi! Don’t forget that I’m considered responsible for this!

SET TO HOME SCREEN: This type of clothing is really nice~. Maybe I should start dressing like this normally.

HOME IDLE 1: Honestly, I don’t understand why every day at NRC isn’t like this. Oh, maybe I should make a complaint to the headmaster? I’m sure he’d listen~.

HOME IDLE 2: Hey, you. Yeah you. Don’t you want a pawpsicle? I promise they’re super refreshing, especially on a hot day like this. And, there’s a discount!

HOME IDLE 3: Do you need somethin’? …Hey, it’s not— It’s all a part of the job, right? I need to be hospitable and all.

HOME IDLE LOGIN: This badge here is pretty nifty and cute, I’ll be honest. So are these glasses. Gotta thank Ashi for supplying us with these— Though, it does make this feel like a real job.

HOME IDLE GROOVY: Couldn’t Cater have come to me earlier to take a picture? Before my ears and tail were all wet? Jeez… Watch your step, Carrots. I don’t want a hurting tail on top of being soaked.

HOME TAP 1: I’ve gotta admit, Atlan actually did his job pretty well. People don’t lie when they say that that guy can yap on and on about things unrelated to him. Heh.

HOME TAP 2: I saw Kalim and Jamil come over and they were the same as ever. Though, maybe I’ll ask Kalim if he can use his unique magic today… I know magic isn’t really supposed to be used, but it’d make my job a lot easier…

HOME TAP 3: If you keep bothering me while I’m on work duty, I’m gonna end up spraying you with the hose. Do you really want that, Carrots?

HOME TAP 4: It’s honestly insane how Ashi isn’t wearing an pair of shades too. She’s the one who’s always in the sun out of the three of us… I guess sunshine just cancels out on itself, huh?

HOME TAP 5: …! Oh, no wonder it just got so loud. The first years are at it again. Oh, to be young again~.

HOME TAP GROOVY: Now look at this, I’m all soaked with water— Say, at least you’ll take care of me if I get sick, won’t you? ♡

-

JOIN THE EVENT!

[yuri-is-online]

I kinda wanna hear more about Azul! Yutu if you are willing

Very. He is long overdue for a proper post. I'm going to skip over some of the stuff that happens while he is in the bad future as I am a big fan of what Archivist has been writing, and would encourage you to look at their posts (here, here, and here) They've been a huge inspiration for this ayuu and finally gave Yutu some friends! I am really really attached to them and their dynamics with the various Yutus and might have written some stuff where they hang out but didn't post it because idk if you folks would be interested...

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. You can find even more stuff for it on my masterlist under the series section.

Yuu started removing mirrors from the house when he was around nine. They did so slowly, and Yutu had been avoiding them for so long he barely notices when their gone. It's not like he was born hating himself, he remembers playing with Yuu in the garden hose or the bath tub and feeling... happy. But that was when he was a little kid, he's almost double digits now he shouldn't be feeling sick to his stomach about this. It feels hard to walk some days, like his balance is wrong and his body is made of the incorrect material. It isn't normal for a kid this young to hate his own bones because it is the bones isn't it? They're hard until their not hard enough and he's stuck in a cast for the summer. Yutu tries to be grateful it's on his arm and not his leg, but it doesn't keep his mind off of things. He feels unwhole every time he tries to walk, and he has no words to express what's missing other than to say he feels unsafe. And it's hard to say that when he knows there's no solution you can give him for what he's feeling. If you could cut off your own limbs to make him whole you would, but then that would leave him just as alone wouldn't it? The last cost Yutu wants to pay to fix himself is the life of parent who loves him.

But that's what the price ends up being. And as he lays there trying to scream only to be rejected by the air he'd spent so much time wasting as his body churns on the floor into the form he'd spent so much time dreaming of he has to wonder why he ever thought the outcome would be different. He should have known that he was never meant to be anything other than alone.

Yutu was a chunky baby, and for the first bit of his life no one minded that at all. He was so cute, Yuu had a bunch of pictures of their precious baby boy and even though there were questions about how he came to be those were sort of shoved to the side in favor of cooing over his cute nose and chubby cheeks. But the cooing turned to concern when he started having some problems reaching his developmental milestones; it took forever for him to learn how to walk, even when Yuu helped guide him through the motions it somehow just didn't seem to stick. Talking was difficult, he'd learned how easily enough but he just preferred not to, wanting to communicate through noises and looks instead. Yuu would try to calm their worries and focus on how he at least slept through the night, but they never did get a solid opinion on why Yutu was so slow to learn from any doctor they saw.

His slow development cause Yuu to really focus on going over his lessons with him at home, it fosters a love of learning in him that evolves as he grows. At first it's very innocent, his eyes are wide with childlike wonder at the world around him and his smile is as bright as his eyes. "Unfortunately" (because it's not truly unfortunate that his parent can still afford to feed him) he's still a chubby little boy, and one who is missing a parent so he's an easy target for his peers to isolate and tear into. He feels like a beached whale, or a dried up octopus, his self esteem is severely hurt as is his outlook on the world. Yuu feels like they are seeing a familiar sight when their child hiccups through recounting his day as they desperately try to hold back their anger and think of a way to deal with this logically.

"Your daddy went through this too." Yutu blows into the tissue you hold for him and tries to hide his surprise. He's always eager to learn about his father, you wish you could think of more to tell him but the words you're saying don't fully feel like you are thinking as you say them. It's like you are briefly being possessed by someone else, just that the "someone else" is... yourself from when you were whole. "He was really hurt by it, and he was one of the strongest people I knew. So it's ok if you need to cry about how you feel."

"I dooon't want to feel." He pushes his face up against your chest like he's a baby again trying to soothe his nightmare against yoru heartbeat and you squeeze him as tight as you can. "I want it to stop, can daddy tell me how to make it stop?" Your mind screams that however daddy handled it must have been bad, it turns to look at someone, you can just see the outline of him. He's handsome, well put together and he's... worried.

"I don't want them to be scared of everything; suspicious,̸̮͉͓͔͎̭̜̦̽̄̆̇̿̈́̍̉̽͌̍̕ͅͅ ̶̰̙͔̝͕̞͍̭͙͕̇͆͌̋̿̌͐̂̿͘̚͝y̷̅͗͗̽̔̂͐��̨̪̳̳͉̮͚̽͠ę̶̩̣̤͚͎͔̯̖̭͐̃̏̓͐̾͐̓̎̇̅̊͐̕s̸͚̖͙̗̣̩̼͎̼͇̝͂̿̉̌͛̈͜ ̴͔̟̤̩̗̯̦̀͐̄̽̊͛͑͋͊͒̓̕͝b̵̧̧̡̰̪̫̤͔͚͕̝̠̹͈́̀̈́͌̄͋̔̿́̕͘ǘ̵̢̼͖̪̱͖̼̼͎̲͈͙͆̀̎͌̍̎̂͐͗̇͌̎̊̚ț̶̛͖̹͚̾̆̂͑̌̊̕ͅ ̴̢̛͇͙̱͇̝̺͇̗̫̘̥͛̀͊̅n̸̢̥͕͗̓e̴͙̹̹̘̮̫̦͐v̶̡̡̧̡̛͓̮̝̺̮̜̳̠̜̅͊̒̄̔͂̋͋͋̊̔̈́͆͘ë̷̟̳̲̰̗͉̬̘̘̣̳̼͙́̑͜ŗ̸̳̹̺͔̦͔̮̖̔͆̊̈́͆̈̔̊͠ ̶̧̢̩̺̗̗̲̠̬̰͇̣̦̈́͑͜͜p̶̱̗͔͔͌a̴̰͓̎͂̅̓̈̎͝r̶̯̰̪̟̾̾̓̂̈́͆̈̀̒̓̕͠ ̴͇̖͉̯̖̞͍͐́͊͛̐̂̐á̵̢͎̙͎́͝ ̸̨̙̞̙̩̮̺̦̻̗̭̩͉̱̠̐̓̿͘ń̷̡̡̡̧̨̪̜͕̠͐̄̉̐͝͠ő̸̥̹̣̙͛̏̏̃̋̍͝͠ḯ̶̢̛͍͔̯̤͊̈́̉̑̂̈̐͊̚̕ḋ̸̦̘̮͍͙̜͈̙͉͖̭͚̊͌͗̊̊̈̾̄͌ͅ ̵̛̛̠̫͙͎̘̣̘͕͗̒̈͒̓̅͊̔͘͝"

Yutu's silence brings you back to reality, he's mercifully fallen asleep against you and missed the aftershocks of your migraine. It's nothing new, but somehow this little scenario makes you feel that much more tired, and that much more alone.

I've mentioned it before but Yuu decides to enroll Yutu into martial arts classes as a way to help with his self confidence and the bullying. In my mind the end up doing it out of a worry that the bullying could get physical, and in the hopes that maybe Yutu will make friends with the kids in his class. It sort of works, Yuu enrolls them in a parent-child class and they certainly make some connections. Yutu finds some inner peace from the class, but his experiences at school make him very shy and keep him from truly opening up to the people around him. The friend groups he finds his way into never seem to fully accept him, a lot of it comes down to petty rivalries over sport and school. Yutu is smart sure, but he knows that no amount of talent makes up for hard work and he's a very hard worker. He's too proud to do something like throw a match or fail a test just for a little social acceptance, and not afraid to say as much.

That's not to say he doesn't want to be accepted, he does. He really deeply does he just doesn't think he could live if that acceptance was fake. Part of that, not that he ever tells Yuu this, is fueled by their descriptions of his father and of how much they loved him. If his dad was in the same position and found you then one day, he hopes, he'll find someone who accepts him too. And he'll make sure to stay alive and do all the little things with them they have ever wanted to do, no matter how out of his comfort zone or weird he finds them to be. Azul! Yutu is a bit of a hopeless romantic underneath his jock appearance, so he's one of the yutus that assumes his dad died in a tragic accident that left your memories in shambles. He's willing to fight people on that point, but Yuu made him promise not to and while he's fussy about listening to other people, he always listens to Yuu.

Which makes the trip between worlds that much harder on him. He might have been alone, but he wasn't exactly lonely. Not when he had a home to come back to and a parent who loved him, he could handle waiting for people who would accept him when he already had someone who did but now... It doesn't help that from his perspective he immediately does something stupid by getting put in Savanaclaw. Crewel already told him his dad was the dormleader of Octavinelle, that he was an exemplary student but not very... athletic so why would he be any different than anyone else. This isn't helped by the reception he gets from his dormmates. Yutu never starts fights, but he sure as hell finishes them and the amount of people left on the floor by the end of his first week makes everyone aware of that.

It earns him respect, and it would have immediately made him his first friend if he had been willing to take Sav at his word when he asked him to show him how he fought so well. Instead he insists on acting like Saitama and making the guy "prove" himself, something that Crewel watches from the sidelines with a weary expression. So his grandson wasn't lying, he really does take more after his dad than you.

He does not so much make other friends as they do make him theirs... two Heartslabyul students and an overly enthusiastic gamer from Ignihyde who sticks to him like a wet cloth and he hates the realization that he's worried about these guys. Sav, Thrush, Fiore, and... Mori. He loves these people. He hopes they never die, but everywhere he looks he sees omens. It hurts, he never knew he had three hearts or that he could fill them up with so much love that it wants to bleed out of him but he refuses to let it. He's learned that he's stronger than he ever thought possible, he'll squeeze a good outcome out of this, for you and for them it never had to be one or the other.

Traveling back in time and being separated from his friends terrifies him. Sav is always refusing to use his brain, what if he got lost because he decided not to read a sign somewhere? Fiore is a little shit and Thrush can't be assed to keep his brother in line what if they get thrown in jail and Yutu has to actively stop himself from thinking about Mori. The muscles in his chest go taut and he forgets to breathe until little black dots prick at his vision from all the ways things could go wrong for the self proclaimed "white mage of the FC party." The guy is just too much of a flight risk... he needs to fix this fast.

But does he? Having you alive again is like a dream, sure you're younger now and don't know him from a hole in the ground but he gets to see all of the memories he was so curious about. He's especially happy to have met Ace and Deuce, they remind him of his own Heartslabyul friends. His world feels a bit more full when he sits to eat a meal with you, guys who he guesses he'll probably end up calling Uncles at some point, and Grim. He's got mixed feelings about Grim, but the little guy really seems to like him now and it's funny to think about whether or not he's the older or younger brother. He's starting to remember what it's like to have a family again, speaking of which...

"Aww looks like you're a real dorm leader now ain't ya shrimpy?" Floyd's voice sounds fun, and it's all Yutu can do to keep from smiling. He instantly understands why Jade must have missed him so much, they looks alike but the difference in tempo is apparent from their stance and dress, and just looking at the younger version of his Uncle he can see how much more alive he feels.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Yutu was it?" Jade's smile suggests danger, he thinks the name is funny that's his guess. The glint in his eyes suggests he wants to tease, and Yutu prepares to make some comments of his own before he notices that his Uncle's attention is not on him but rather- "Floyd told us about your unexpected arrival," he has been avoiding this for so long he almost didn't see the familiar stranger next to Jade, the rest of his words are heard but not noted as he looks directly at his father for the first time. What a painful realization that is.

"Hey hey grouper, you ok?" Floyd's tone very much does not suggest worry but it brings him back to the present. Or would it be the past?

"Grouper? Might regret calling me that pool noodle. Yeah I'm fine, just surprised you came over here yourselves. I thought I was doing good keeping my nose where it belongs." Yutu swears Azul looks genuinely hurt for a second, but it disappears under his glasses and his patented grin.

"Well you certainty don't pull any punches do you?" If Yutu didn't know any better he'd assume his dad was... excited.

He is, he's very excited. Yuu is a kind hearted person and Azul loves them for it, but Yutu has some of that hater energy he knows he can work with. A second set of eyes on Yuu's world is just what Azul needs to win their ha- expand his business, so he keeps finding ways to talk to Yutu. He ends up learning a decent bit about him despite Yutu's best efforts: he's lying about his unique magic to catch people off guard when he uses it, he's not a muscle head nor does he take particular pride in his physique despite the intense amount of effort he puts into staying strong. It's interesting to watch the sort of things he likes to eat... sure a lot of it is healthy food but none of it is health food. That ends up being the first real conversation they have and it throws Yutu for a bit of a loop. It reminds him of that conversation he had with Yuu all those years ago when he was crying about being bullied. About how his dad gone through the same thing he did and suddenly his dad seems a bit more like a person and less like a shadow that's haunting him.

The way his dad looks at Yuu is breathtakingly soft. Azul is ambitious, talented, hardworking, and oh so desperate to impress that Yutu finds it hard to hear their doubts about the way he feels because he can see all of the signs clear as day about how Azul feels about Yuu. Uncle Jade's stories about how Azul was silly in his affections, the little ways he got excited when Yuu complimented him or how much of a show off he insisted on being around them are happening right in front of him and while he wonders about that little thing he always tried to avoid. The "could have been." Would his dad have agreed with Yuu's decision to enroll him in martial arts? Or would Azul have put him in a different school, would that even have been nessecary or would people be too afraid to make fun of his son? That promise Jade said Azul made to Yuu about never having to go hungry again... would he have kept it? Yutu never starved but he knows his parent did, what would Azul say if he knew? Would it break him? Would he even care?

These thoughts take a toll on Yutu. He can't keep pretending he isn't worried about his friends when he is trying to avoid thinking about his parent's relationship, and vise versa so he puts more effort into finding them. Thrush and Fiore are the easiest, they made their way to Craneport and established a base pretty quickly and are surprisingly not complete shits about him taking his sweet ass time to find them. Sav is though, the Scalding Sands is a long way away and getting him to Sage's Island proves to be tedious and expensive, of course he's going to complain and pick a fight when Yutu shows up again. He hates to admit it but it feels good to have his sparring partner back, it perks up his mood a tiny bit. But time beings to drag on with no signs of Mori, Yutu is getting more restless in his worries and clumsier in hiding where he's going. Sure he knows how to shake off a tailing eel, but an octopus? The only one he's ever known is himself.

Azul learns from his various contacts that Yutu has friends. He keeps his appearance under the hood, but his friend group is close and clearly working towards some sort of goal. None of the names he gets show up in any systems he has access to, Jade does his best to find a shred of evidence that these are people who exist and can't. It worries all three of the octotrio, this is a problem they need to get to the bottom of and fast. But before that can happen another one of those portals opens, this time outside Ramshackle Dorm while Azul is trying to spend some precious alone time with you. And the thing that comes out of it is terrifying.

The blot phantom is unlike anything Azul has ever seen, not in a textbook or in person. It's a misshapen mass of a person, clothing real but foul smelling and stained with ink.

"Use my phone to call the twins and get out of here as fast as you can." Azul doesn't like his chances alone, but he likes yours even less. You don't run, it brings just a bit of a smile to his face, but you still call Jade as Azul weaves ice around it's legs to try and keep it down. The monster howls squirming against the ice and screaming at him like he should understand what it's talking about. Azul tries to stare it down, tries to appear like he's a mage that belongs on the front lines and not a support. The best support but still, he's slow. Too slow to dodge the vine that whips out of the creature's back and speeds towards his heart but fast enough to catch the scream that tears from Yutu's throat.

"STAY AWAY FROM MY DAD YOU FUCKING PIECE OF TRASH!" Eight cosmic tentacles rip out of the ground and tear into the monster, Yutu's chest is heaving with the strain of bringing his full strength to bear as Azul pauses to collect himself. As Yutu finishes off the monster he goes over what he knows, looks at the boy in front of him and traces parts of himself in him and forgets his previous plans to expose him to Yuu as a fraud. When his child looks back at him, disguise knocked off and fear clear on his face the reason for the previous distance Yutu has been trying to maintain suddenly makes sense. Before Azul overblotted he was quiet. There's a similar quiet over him now, a similar look of tense surprise, but Yutu- no- his child doesn't know that. His child is looking at him in fear, in worry for his reaction or his safety he doesn't know but he knows the way those tears start to form. Azul knows the quiver of the lip and the shriek, of all the things he could have passed on to such a treasure.

"You deserved better from me." Because it's true. He might think of himself as a work in progress but he still thinks he has quality; he would have done research, read every book he could get his hands on, taken classes, anything he would need to do to be a good father, a worthy partner. Anything. "You deserved to have the world within your grasp, not whatever shadow of a future and a father I left you with. I am so sorry." He does not expect Yutu to grab him and hold him like he's still somehow worthy of his love, but Azul can't fight the urge to grab back, to stroke his son's hair and let the tears fall on his suit without any care at all. I'm here. It's ok, daddy's here, daddy's got you, he won't let anything happen to you.

Azul likes to make plans. He planned how he would confess to Yuu (it did not go as planned but he still planned it) and he has clear ideas about the future he wants to have with them. Yutu was already a part of it, he's dreamed of having somewhere safe and full of love to come home to since he realized what his feelings for Yuu were. So to see that dream come to life, to have it crying in his arms about how someone else corrupted it into a nightmare and stole what he'd worked so hard to earn- Oh Azul is a petty and vindictive little bitch once he has gotten his own tears out of his system. He's extremely proud of all the work Yutu has already done towards ending the bad future, and while he is disappointed that he didn't think to ask for his help he is understanding. If he was in Yutu's position he doesn't know how he'd react, but he could see himself making similar choices.

He insists on having a family dinner so he can get to know all of the real things about Yutu from him instead of just observing them. He wants the three (and a half since Grim's there too) of you to cook together and just talk before getting down to the sad business that's brought Yutu here. Some of it's instinct to feed his child, but mostly he wants to prove to his son that he's worthy of being his father. That you chose him out of everyone for a reason, something Yutu sort of knows already but he's wanted to have his father in his life for so long that he plays up his nerves just a little bit so he can be spoiled by him.

Azul's reach is long, and combined with the twins finding where Mori is should be much easier. What worries Azul is the bad future and the little information Yutu tells him about how it started. He's never had any real reason to doubt what he knows about overblots, or to distrust the Headmage, or to think Grim could kill him. But if the world ends the economy does too, and he is not about to die before he's achieved everything he's been dreaming of. His ambition is almost scary, but Yutu can't bring himself to be afraid. This version of his father is the nicest one he's seen yet, and if it means anything to anyone, he'd like to keep him just as much as Azul wants him too.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

girls just wanna have fun 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, blackmail, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you’re struggle to push back against your controlling father result in a misguided crush. (Silverfox AU)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

You don’t like to think of yourself as sweaty, you’re glistening. You keep a light jog, just enough to get your heart pumping. And bouncing. Your sports bra is less than secure but you don’t mind.

Running’s another new hobby. It’s a reason to get out of the house when your dad’s being a drag. And a reason to scope out the neighbour. As you turn the corner onto your street, you slow down, coming in sight of Bucky’s yard. Disappointment washes over you as you get closer. He’s usually out by now.

“Goddammnit,” you hear him curse as he appears from beside the house, his tee shirt soaked in water, “fucking hose.”

You stop by the fence and watch him strip away the drenched shirt. He tosses it in anger, his muscles rippling under his skin, and scowls as his hands frame his wide hips. You gulp as your mouth dries out. Wowee.

He looks over as you hover near his gate. You cough and shake your head, “everything alright, Mr. Barnes?” You ask, keeping your voice perky.

“Uh, yeah,” he shakes his head slightly, “yeah, just damn thing split.”

He huffs and closes his eyes, tilting his head up to the shining sun. It’s almost as if he’s trying to match you, tempting you to do something. Your cheeks burn from more than the summer heat. You hum in sympathy.

“Oh, that’s too bad. Well, I’m sure if you really need a hose, you could stretch ours over the fence.”

“Yeah, your dad wouldn’t have an aneurysm?” He scoffs and opens his eyes, narrow those baby blues in your direction.

You step back on your heel and shrug, shuffling your feet as you run in place, “I don’t know, Mr. Barnes. Just being nice.” You turn and keep bouncing looking ahead, “gotta finish my run.”

“It’s Bucky,” he calls after you as your soles pound the sidewalk. You puff out, smiling. Bucky.

You circle the block again and come up once more to your neighbour’s walk. Again, you keep a look out for him. There’s another car in the lot. You recognise it. His annoying friend is there. The one who used to tease you about your school uniform.

You roll your eyes and turn your sights forward, only to collide with someone else. Just the person you were dreading. You stutter step back, panting heavily, chest rising and falling heavily. You don’t miss how the man’s eyes peek down before meeting your own. You don’t mind being on display, just not for him.

“Oh, hi, Mr. Wilson,” you cross your arms and he clears his throat. Ugh, gross. You drop your arms, “sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“That’s just fine, sugar,” he smirks, “don’t mind running into a pretty girl like you.”

Ew. You could barf. It takes all your manners not to gag at him.

“Right, um, well, I should just--”

“Hey, Sam,” Bucky’s voice draws your attention from your half-baked excuse, “Corona okay? I don’t got any Heineken right now.”

“Corona? What are you? A coed? Why don’t you toss it to this little beam of sunshine?” He nudges you and you inch away.

“I got a free case. You really gonna be picky,” Bucky challenges as he comes up to the fence and holds the beer over it. “She’s too young.”

“I drink,” you lie. To be honest, you don’t. You tried a single vodka and orange soda in high school and vomited in your shoe. “You know, college.”

“Yeah, college,” Sam winks at you, “she’s really grown up, Buck.”

You glance over as his brows raise coyly and he glances over at you, the tip of his tongue poking out. You flutter your lashes and refocus on Bucky. You shrug.

“Obviously, I’m just playing around. I’m a good girl, Mr. Barnes,” you smile.

Sam purrs, just loud enough for you to hear. You repress the furrow that threatens to wrinkle your nose. You have to stay pretty for Bucky.

“I’m just fine. Dad’s got some Bud in the garage.”

“Bud, huh, you like toilet water?” Sam chides.

Your lips draw tight and you spin on your heel, “anyways, I’m going to go stretch.”

You skip down the sidewalk and through your own gate. You hear Sam chuckle, “you doing it out here, sugar? Where we can see? You know, I got a bad back, could use a few pointers.”

You just shake your head as you wave dismissively and head inside. He has to ruin everything. You don’t get why Bucky is friends with him. They have their little poker nights and all you ever hear in exchange are snipes. Do they even like each other?

You enter the house and fill a large glass of water from the fridge filter. You gulp it down, parched from more than your run. Mm, just the thought of Bucky with his shirt off, the little coils of gray hair, and the way his muscles were just perfectly lined with that extra later of pudge. The kind a man ages into.

“There you are,” your dad appears as if out of thin air, “what the hell are you wearing?”

“Love you too,” you face him as you put the glass down.

“Were you outside like that?”

You look down at your bicycle shorts and bra.

“I was exercising,” you snip.

“You can wear a shirt next time,” he sneers. “You’re supposed to clean the pool.”

“I got time,” you argue.

He sighs as he opens the fridge. He takes out his carton of egg whites and plops it down on the counter. He takes out turkey bacon as well. He swings the door shut and turns, silent as he readies his late breakfast.

“What are you talking to Barnes for?” He asks curtly as he puts a pan on the stove. You grab your glass again.

“Was being friendly, that’s all,” your heart deflates. Fun’s over.

“Mm, and he’s friendly? He knows how to be?”

“Ugh, whatever’s between you has nothing to do with me,” you rebuff, “he’s nice.”

“Sure,” he sniffs doubtfully, “he’s a bitter old bastard.”

You’re one to talk. You don’t put the quip to voice, instead draining what’s left of the water. You turn and rinse the glass and put it in the dishwasher.

“If I clean the pool, can Shelby come over?”

“Shelby? What, so you can blast those video games again?”

“No, so we can swim,” you say. “Duh.”

“Duh,” he mimics in a whiny voice. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Well, can I? Please?” You soften your tone, “I’m so bored.”

“Mm, fine. No more wet towels on the lawn though.”

“Yes, sir, will do, sir.”

“And cut the attitude,” he warns as he peels bacon strips from the package, “and put a shirt on.”

You spin and stomp away. You take your slides from the front mat and carry them to the back door. You’re not putting a shirt on, you’re going to be cleaning the pool. There’s no point in that.

You go out and grab the net, extending it long. You lazily skim the water. It doesn’t really need a cleaning. It’s still sparkling and clear.

As you stare into the blue depths, the shadow of the leaves above rustle over you. You glance up and over to the disturbance. You see a head poking over the top and nearly shriek. It’s Sam, watching you.

“Ew, what are you doing, perv?” You accuse.

“There’s tree rot up here,” he points to the trunk, “told Buck I’d take care of it. Let his old knees have a rest.”

You frown and turn back to the pool. You know he’s watching you. You feel the weight of his gaze. The same sensation you long for when you pass by Bucky.

“And the view is nice,” he slithers, “you might wanna reach a bit... right there. Little leaf,” he points over the fence, “bend just a little bit, sugar. Arch that back.”

You can’t believe what he’s saying. You retract the pole and turn to scowl at him, “you’re gross.”

“Ah, come on, don’t act so innocent with me? What happened to the plaid skirt and those cute little stockings?”

You glare at him, “I’m an adult.”

“Sure are,” he agrees.

“What do you want?” You snarl, “I’m busy.”

He grins and leans on the fence. He tilts his head and bats his lashes, “’oh, Mr. Barnes, I’m a good girl. I would never drink your beer. But yes, I’ll sit in your lap, show you what a good girl does’,” he mocks as he pretends to fix hair longer than his trimmed style.

“Well, happy to see one of us is grown,” you retort.

“Ah, sugar, you can’t deny it. I see right through you. You weren’t wagging that ass for me but you will,” he eyes you up and down and licks his lips, “you want a bite of Bucky, I can get you it. There’s just one catch,” he pulls back slightly and looks down, “and it’s hard and throbbing.”

You’re stunned. Speechless. Blistering at being caught in your pathetic flirtations but worse, being called out so crassly.

You recoil and turn back to the pool. You’re not really considering his offer. As much as you dream about Bucky, and touch yourself, and cum about him, it’s just no, you can’t. It’s a fantasy, nothing else. That’s all it can be.

Besides, you wouldn’t know what to do. It’s all so much easier in your head.

“That’s okay, you take your time,” he slaps the fence, “I got work to do. But first,” he puts an arm over the wood, “think I’ll watch you do yours.”

[specialmedicalcentre]

Miwa Gets Prepped

"I don't think anyone told her to dress for this," Nurse Sarah whispered to her colleague Yasmin. Yasmin stifled a giggle. Their patient was sitting on the exam table, wearing what looked like a very uncomfortable set of sheer lingerie.

Dr. Kate looked up from her digital tablet, where she was tapping information into the medical record. "What was that, Yas?"

"...oh! Uh, nothing. What's first, Doctor?" Yas threw a glance at Sarah.

"Let's set her up on a five lead EKG with resp monitoring. I'd like the limb leads on her thighs, please. And double cuffs." Dr. Kate looked at her patient briefly, and Sarah could almost see a smirk cross her face.

"Got it." Yasmin said. She gathered up a set of EKG leads that had been draped over the prep tray and walked over to the exam table.

Their patient's name was Miwa, and she had come in for a dobutamine stress test. For a 22 year old woman, this was an unusual exam to experience, and her chart suggested that she had previously been in good health. Yas imagined that she would find today's activity a little unfamiliar and even unsettling.

Miwa was a tall, curvy girl. The lingerie wasn't entirely unflattering, either, Yas thought.

"Ok, Miwa, I'm going to put these on you now. Just a little sticky - they might also be cold; sorry about that, sweetie." Yasmin systematically started peeling the backing from the rectangular EKG electrodes, already attached to the leads. She pressed them against Miwa's pale skin, smoothing them with her fingertips.

"So weird." Miwa mumbled, staring as Yas pressed one against her abdomen. Yas laughed in sympathy.

"These go on your legs. Here," and Yas pressed the last two down.

"Are you going to put me to sleep?" Miwa asked, looking down at herself. She had an uneasy look on her face.

"No, honey." Sarah said, walking over. "You need to be awake for this test. Why do you ask?"

"Well..." Miwa looked confused, and a little bit sheepish. "What are these stickers for, then?" She was lightly touching the electrode that Yas stuck to the skin above her left breast.

"Oh, those are EKG electrodes, honey, and they let us see what your heart is doing. They're not just for anesthesia. We'll need to watch your heart for this test." Sarah explained.

"Would you like me to explain it again, Miwa? I know we last talked about it a few days ago." Dr. Kate offered.

"Sure, yeah." Miwa said, not very convincingly. She was absent-mindedly feeling at the edge of the electrode on her right thigh.

"Last we met, I heard some things when I listened to your heart that I'd like to look at more closely. That, and the fact that you mentioned some shortness of breath and - palpitations, right?" Kate prompted.

"Right, that's right." Miwa nodded. She was looking at Kate now.

"...well, we can look into all those things with this test. It's called a chemical stress test. We'll hook you up to the monitors - I know, there are a lot of them - and then we'll give you some meds to make your heart beat pretty hard and fast. This way we can look closely at your cardiac activity when your heart is stressed. We should be able to see what we need to." Kate smiled.

"How long does it take?" Miwa shifted herself, looking uncomfortable.

Dr. Kate thought for a moment. "We should be all done in about 30 minutes, then you can rest. But all you need to do for the test is lie still and breathe. Ok?"

"...ok."

"Miwa, I'm going to put this on you now." Yasmin interrupted gently, holding up a long blue fabric strip with a hose attached. "This is a blood pressure cuff - you know what that is, right?"

Miwa nodded, pleased to see something she recognized. "Yup. On my arm, right?" She instinctively held up her right arm.

"Exactly - here..." Yasmin draped it over her bare arm, deftly wrapping it under and pressing the velcro against itself. "Just going to wrap it a little tight...great." She smoothed the cuff against Miwa's arm. It felt like a hug.

"I need to put another one on you, sweetie, ok? On your other arm, now." Yasmin produced another cuff, and immediately started to wrap Miwa's left arm as well. That was weird.

"Oh..." Miwa looked a little taken aback. "Um, sure. Why two?"

Sarah spoke up, adjusting something on a vitals monitor. "We will want to see your blood pressure really accurately as the test proceeds. We're going to measure your bp in both arms: first one, then the other, then repeat."

Miwa slowly nodded as Yasmin secured the second cuff. "Ok, yeah." The feeling of the two cuffs was not as pleasant as just one. It felt restraining, confining.

"Let's get your hair out of your face, honey," Sarah said. She was holding what looked like a blue shower cap, and Miwa was momentarily confused. Sure enough, Sarah placed it over Miwa's hair and gently tucked the loose strands up. "There - neat and tidy."

Miwa was starting to feel really self-conscious. She was...all hooked up and she felt very exposed.

Dr. Kate stood up, placing the digital tablet aside. "Ok, we're going to get started, Miwa. Sarah, let's get a baseline."

Sarah nodded, and pressed a button on the monitoring machine. "Miwa, we're going to inflate the cuffs now. Just relax, honey, and try to keep still for a moment." Miwa wasn't sure what to do.

There was a shrill beeeep and her left cuff started to swell up. There was the sound of pumping air from somewhere. Miwa kind of held her arm gingerly away from her body.

Yasmin touched her on the arm gently. "Just relax it, Miwa." Miwa tried to do as she said.

Beeeep. "One thirty over ninety-one." Beeeep. The other cuff started, and Miwa began to feel sweat in her armpits.

"Just a moment, Miwa," Kate said, seeing her discomfort. Beeeep. "One-thirty-six over eighty-eight."

"Maybe a little anxious; we'll watch that." Kate said. "Miwa, we'll be taking your bp every few minutes during the test, ok?"

Miwa said nothing, but quietly groaned.

"I see no obvious issues with her EKG..." Kate said, looking up at the monitors. No PVCs, rhythm looks ok. Lets get her medicated and see what's what. Let's set her up on an RT." The tone of the room suddenly shifted. As if following a script, the nurses started to set things up around Miwa and the exam table.

Sarah placed her hand on Miwa's back. "Honey, I'm going to take your temperature now. I'd like you to lay down on your side."

Miwa instinctively began to lean over, following the nurse's gentle pressure. "Wait, why?" She asked.

"We're going to place a rectal temperature sensor," Dr. Kate said, impatiently. "You'll need to wear it for the duration of the test."

"Okay, let's go. And let's puncture her for an IV."

=====

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[morganbritton132]

Re: the privacy issue

At any point does Eddie start to think about a bodyguard?

When Eddie’s touring, he has a bodyguard.

It was a stipulation that the label had when signing the band because at that point, they were pretty infamous for being run out of town. It turns out that the people with the loudest opinions about devil music are often the ones holding rocks, and they aren’t much swayed by Eddie’s dropped charges or his governor issued public apology.

“The label is investing with you,” CC’s first manager, Pete, used to say, “It’s about time you boys start investin’ in ya’selves and don’t get killed.”

So, they got a bodyguard.

His name was Daniel. He was the biggest guy Eddie’s ever seen, could take a punch like a champ, and never once realized in the two national tours and one world tour that half the band was queer. Corroded Coffin’s main hobby was seeing how quick they could ditch him.

Eddie has only brought getting a bodyguard off-tour a few times and each and every one of those times has ended in a fight.

Eddie brought up getting a bodyguard after he impulsively decided to come out publicly during an acceptance speech at the MTV music awards and paparazzi camped outside of their building. He brought it up when an overzealous fan pushed their way into Eddie’s orbit and nearly knocked Steve into the road.

He mentioned it after they got a letter in the mail with a picture of their apartment’s front door and a threat. He even suggested it after their move to the suburbs was met with the word MURDERER spraypainted across the front of their house, and it’s a fight. It’s an argument.

Eddie brings it up and Steve shuts it down. He is scrubbing red paint off the front of their new house and he tells Eddie, “If that’s what you need to feel safe than I think you should get one, but that’s not why you’re bring it up.”

“I still live here when I’m not here,” Eddie says back, spraying at the slur written on the sidewalk with the water hose. “Someone could come here looking for me and find you. Then what? Is it a crime to want to know that you’re safe when I’m gone?”

“What exactly do you think you’re going to do if you are here?” Steve asks and rolls his eyes when Eddie shoots him a look. “It’s not a crime, but I’m not being a prisoner in my own home to make you comfortable, Ed.”

It’s not said but Eddie knows the undertone in Steve’s voice. Steve doesn’t want a babysitter and Eddie’s never been able to make a good case of why a bodyguard is not that. The conversation tends to tip into an argument so he doesn’t press it further than that, he just cleans Chrissy’s name off their front steps.

Steve bumps his shoulder a few minutes later and tells him, “We have a friend that can explode someone’s head with her mind. If I need help, I’ll call El.”

“Or Nance.”

“Or Nance.”

Eddie hasn’t brought up getting a bodyguard in years but after the video at the neurologist, he thinks that there may be a case. Not for protection, but privacy. Steve laughs at him. He actually laughs and he asks, “So, what? We’re entitled assholes that smash people’s phones at the grocery store now?”

“When they’re taking a video of you crying.”

“Of course they’re going to take videos, Eddie. It’s going to be me, you, the dog, and Jim, the eight-foot bodybuilder buying a frozen pizza when you have munchies. That’s just more reason for people to be looking at us.”

[s3mi-ch4rm3d]

can we stay for a while and listen for heaven?

A/N: my first fic !!!! i wrote this between the hours of 1 and 4am so i hope its not shit asjkffjkd

please please please reblog, comment and like !!! if you have any feedback please feel free to drop it too (:

"You’d told him earlier that this building was his home. You were wrong – he fights the urge to say it now. To chant ‘The four walls have nothing to do with it. My home isn’t this house, it’s you. It’s here, in my arms’ until his throat runs dry. "

desc; veteren!reader x simon riley. he comes home on leave after a (kind of) disagreement. all fluff, some non-sexual nudity (a soft little affectionate shower scene). should be fairly gender neutral!!

"Hear the storm dances outside Something set free is running through the night And the dark awaits us all around the corner But here, in our place we have for the day Can we stay a while and listen for heaven?"

Simon “Ghost” Riley, more weapon than man, almost falls to his knees weeping at the sight of you.

You stand, some thirty-feet ahead of him, holding a pistol aimed at his head with perfect precision. Hair wild and sleep-tousled, one of his shirts hanging to about mid-thigh, eyelids drooped and eyebrows furrowed in confusion, lips forming a perfect ‘O’ and he swears to whatever divine being still watching that one day he’ll be brave enough to marry you. 

He’d poetically liken himself to a man returning home from war, but the simile cuts a little too close.  

You lower the weapon, flick the safety on (he narrowly bites back the urge to praise you) before launching it towards the sofa and launching yourself at him. He ignores the burning in his injured side and returns the fervour, arms finding your waist with practised ease. After almost fifty hours awake, Simon allows himself to feel the exhaustion that permeates his bones. He sinks into you – into your warmth, your scent, your love. He fears he’ll never be able to let go again.

You somehow detach yourself enough to blink up at him, eyes still half-lidded. “You’re back,” you whisper, voice so roughened with sleep that he can only make out half the syllables, “thought you were comin’ back next week?” 

“Sorry, darlin’. Should’ve given you a heads up.” He hates how fatigued he sounds, even to his own ears, but he can’t keep up the act. Not with you. 

“Nonsense, Simon Riley.” Your nose scrunches, voice mimicking severity. The way your mouth sounds the shape of his name ringing through his head like a stricken bell, “This is your home, too. You know you don’t need permission to come back.”

He doesn’t know, not really. Especially not at the moment. He’d half expected you to shove him back out the door duffle still in hand if he were honest. After almost two weeks of not speaking, of dodging calls and ignoring texts, he figured he’d deserved it. The knot of guilt begins to twist his stomach. 

You must sense his hesitation – reading him like a book always was a favourite pastime of yours – because you press your face back into his chest, squeezing him briefly before releasing him.  He barely has time to mourn the loss of your warmth before you’re hooking your pinky with his, intertwining your fingers. 

You lift yourself onto your tiptoes, face hovering just a few centimetres away from his, before you whisper.

“You’re not getting into our bed smelling like shite, Si. ‘M hosing you down." 

He watches as the corners of your lips turn up into one of your signature lopsided grins and before he can stop himself he’s leaning in to kiss it, mask be damned. Since there are no merciful gods left, you duck out of the way before his mouth can stick the landing, letting out a squawk of laughter as you swipe out of the way of his arms. He finds his lips mimicking yours beneath the fabric. 

“You’re not kissing me til you brush those fuckin’ teeth, either. Dirty man.”

“I thought you liked the way I taste, love.”

You snort, pinky latching onto him again, leading him towards the bathroom of your darkened house. Reiterate your previous statement by muttering a “filthy man” under your breath. The radiance of dawn spills through the closed blinds as the sun begins its endeavour across the sky once more. Simon follows dutifully behind you. 

Your unoccupied hand fumbles before finding the string of the light switch. You give it a firm tug and cool light blares into the room. Simon barely has time to hiss before you’re tugging it off again, encasing the room in darkness once more. You hum softly, murmuring apologies as you lead him to the toilet seat. 

“Sit. I swear I have fake candles somewhere, I’ll find them.”

An objection rises in his throat, although he obeys instantly, perching on the lid of the toilet. He watches in the low light as you flit about the room, rummaging through bottles and loofahs and sponges before letting out a small “aha!”. 

You methodically disperse small, white discs around the room, clicking them on as you go. Warm light flickers throughout the room, much less overbearing than the beacon overhead. You turn to face him again and he lets out a sigh through his nostrils. You’re far too endearing like this; completely dishevelled, all soft smiles and teasing words. 

He can see it with a bit more clarity now, the way worry has been eating at you. In the dim 'candle' light, he notices the state of your lower lip, chapped and bitten, and the smudges of blue that frame your eyes. The knot that sits at the base of his stomach twists again, digging in, and he tightens his jaw to stop himself from spilling I’m sorry’s like a mantra.

“You planning on washing your clothes as well as your body, babes?” 

Your voice pops the bubble of his self-pity. He blinks thrice, grateful for the mask to hide the downwards tilt of his lips. He attempts to sound breezy as he replies, though it comes out with more bite than he’d like. Typical. 

“Figure it’s the quickest way to stop smelling of ‘shite.’”

It’s your turn to sober yourself as you cast your eyes over him, eyebrows furrowing. You must catch it; the way, however subtle, his body responds to his injury – hunched slightly to one side as if trying to curl protectively around it. He straightens his spine at your scrutiny. 

“You’re hurt,” you whisper, voice so tender, as you take two slow steps towards him, “your side?” Your eyebrows furrow, hands absently reaching for him. 

“It’s nowt, darls. Just some bruising. I…” He rolls the request around on his tongue. He swears it burns, to ask more of you after you’ve given so much. “I need a hand. Can’t really… bend. Sorry.”

Your reaction is immediate. You drop to your knees in front of him, hands reaching for his laces, face set in gentle determination. 

“It’s no bother, handsome.” You’re quick to soothe, to reassure. Always so quick to give him what he needs. He softens like warm butter. “Get started up there, and we’ll meet in the middle.” You toss him a cheeky wink, face still tinged in a trace of worry. 

Never one to deny you anything, he does as he’s told. Starts with his mask – easy enough. He’s too tired to have any reservations now, especially when you’ve spent so many nights devoted to tracing his scars with your lips. He unhooks the straps and slips it from his face, drops the piece of fabric onto the bathroom counter next to him. 

His shirt is… a little bit trickier. He struggles to lift it up above his head, but he manages it soon enough. On his own, despite your assurances that you can help with that, too. He’s a stubborn creature. 

Meanwhile, you’re dutifully and methodically working off his boots. He’s seen those hands broken and bruised, snaked around the grip of so many guns. He’s in awe of their softness; the duality of hands once soaked in blood, now working so gently to undress him. 

True to your word, always, you meet him in the middle. Soft hands ghost over the mottling of bruises littering his left side, shades of purple and blue deep and rich. You frown, casting your eyes up to meet his. Your teeth go to bother your lower lip again but he leans forward to intercept, covering your mouth with his own. 

You hum absently into the kiss, feel the graze of his hand against your jaw, the soft exhale through his nose. You both stay like that for a moment; making no move to deepen the kiss, keeping it light and sweet and oh-so tender. 

You disconnect, your frown banished. He watches through his lashes, eyes half-lidded with relaxation as you stand back up, hands moving to the hem of his your shirt. Simon reaches to help, you swat his hand away. 

“Ah-ah! Just sit back and enjoy the show, Riley. I don’t give ‘em out for free.” You wink, cocky grin rising to your lips. God, he has it bad for you.

“Show me how it’s done, love.”

You put him to shame. Lift your shirt off with one confident sweep of your arms. His hands twitch with the effort to keep them by his sides. The rest comes off just as easily, barring your fluffy socks. You almost end up flat on your arse, cheeks flushed as you slouch against the bathroom counter repeating ‘stop laughing, Simon Riley, or so help me God–’

A few moments later and you’re both in the shower, standing under a stream of water just below scalding. He hisses as the jets hit him, rolling down the planes of his back, slowly loosening the knots along his spine. You’re standing so close, nearly pressed against him, and this time he doesn’t stop himself from slipping an arm around your waist. Your bare forms merge and he feels like a ship returning to harbour. He feels tethered.

You’d told him earlier that this building was his home. You were wrong – he fights the urge to say it now. To chant ‘The four walls have nothing to do with it. My home isn’t this house, it’s you. It’s here, in my arms’ until his throat runs dry. 

The way you tilt into his grasp, your arms winding so naturally around him, slotting against him so perfectly makes him think you already know the words by heart.

After a few minutes, you break away. Simon is just breathing out an objection by the time he notices the loofah in your hands. You squirt a splodge of soap onto it and a wave of your signature scent fills his nostrils. His objections die on his tongue. 

You work the soap into a lather before gently taking one of his arms, eyes flicking up to meet him for a moment in a silent question. He answers with a nod and you get to work, systematically massaging away the layers of grime and dirt. You work in small circles down his arm, scrubbing his armpits and washing the grit from beneath his fingernails with precision, before moving onto his other arm. 

And so the time passes; both arms, across the chiselled plains of his broad chest, down to his navel, spinning him around so you can work your way up his back. Then you’re onto his legs, his feet, before you move on to washing his hair. 

He has to stand facing away from you (much to his despair – you look so focused, your tongue almost poking out in concentration), head tilted back to give you access to the top of his head. Still, you stand on your tiptoes, rubbing and massaging the shampoo into his scalp with firm but doting hands. You hum as you work. 

He’s flooded with warmth at the depth of your devotion. 

Hours or seconds pass by, simultaneously too much and too little time, and you’re done. You guide his form back around to face you, rising up to place a sickeningly sweet kiss to his lips. His body is sagging as the exhaustion finally drapes over him like a well-worn blanket. He blinks to keep his eyes open.

“Your turn?” He murmurs, voice a jumble of syllables. 

“Mmh, I’m okay, babs. We need to get you into bed,” you hum. His eyes close for half a second and by the time he’s opened them again, the shower is off and he’s wrapped in a soft towel. 

“Our bed?”

You huff out a breathy laugh, “Yeah, Si, our bed.”

Pinkies entwined, you lead him once more. Sunrise is fully upon you now, a kaleidoscope of peaches and tangerines spill through gaps in the curtains to bathe the bedroom in pinks and golds. You guide Simon Riley, now far more man than weapon, to his side of the bed. The man barely makes it to a horizontal position before reaching for you -- a request that you happily oblige. 

You settle against him with the same practised ease, curled against his uninjured side, head tucked against his clavicle. He hums beneath you, arms slotting into their designated space around your waist. 

A few moments pass. You’re certain that he’s already asleep when his voice, deep and full of timbre, cuts through the tranquillity. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasps, his large hands dragging up the notches along your spine. “‘M stupid, and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t– you don’t have to, Si. I get it.” You exhale against his collarbone, arms tightening around him. “It was a bad time. I didn’t mean for it– it just came out. I get it.”

Simon murmurs in disagreement, but he returns the motion. Arms squeezing your sides like he needs an anchor, something to hold on to. 

“I shouldn’t have ignored you. I was a coward. I–”

His head turns, lips grazing over the crown of your head. His eyebrows furrow and he freezes for a moment before whispering, voice so quiet you have to strain to hear it. 

“I feel it, too. I can’t– I can’t say it, but I feel it. I do.”

You feel the corners of your lips twitch up involuntarily. This absolute muppet of a man – watching you all evening like you’d hung the stars one by one, like you were some divine creator, some source of eternal beauty that could make the angels quiver. You bite back the urge to laugh, and instead tilt your head upwards, graze your rough lips across the underside of his jaw. 

You whisper back, trying to pour as much love and devotion as you can fit into three words. 

“I know, Si.”

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Water fight - Mikey Way x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Mikey Way x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 753

Summary: You and Mikey hang out on summer break

“Hey Missy!” Gerard calls out from across his front yard. Gerard and Mikey are probably some of the best neighbours a girl could have. Both awesome to play with when we were younger and now, my best friends. 

“Hey Gee! Hey Mikey!” I shout as Mikey runs up to me. 

“Hi,” he smiles, sitting down next to me, long legs stretched along the stairs. He’s cute. Cuter than he knows. 

“What’s new?” I ask. 

“There’s this really cool comic that Gee found last night and I read it in like two hours last night. It was the best. It was all about these superheroes that were in group therapy, it was so cool,” he laughs. That amazing smile plastered all over his face. I love listening to the things he says, the excitement that fills him is purely the best thing to experience. 

“That’s cool. I was reading the one you and Gee recommended the other day, Watchmen. It’s actually really good, not gonna lie.”

“I miss your glasses Mikey. They made you look cute,” I look away from him, towards Gerard who is playing with some of the younger kids in the neighborhood. 

“They had to go, I looked like a nerd.”

“You already are a nerd Mike,” I laugh. One of the kids starts to wave me over, throwing a water balloon in my direction. “Oh it’s on!” I shout, grabbing my water gun and running over. Gerard pops out from behind a bush, a water gun in hand. 

“Attack!” he yells as all of the kids start drenching me in cold water. Good thing it’s a hot day. 

“Mikey, help!” I scream trying to run away.

“I got you!” he runs over and stands guard in front of me. His blonde highlights stand out in the sun, bright and shiny. Mike’s prettier than he knows, he really is. The kids continue to run around us, throwing buckets of water, water balloons and firing water guns at us. This is the life we have, seventeen and in senior year, our last proper year together. Gerard’s already left school but he stayed back, commuting into New York for art school, cartooning specifically. Mikey and I told him that he should do music but he was set on comics, of course. He’ll end up on the stage one day though, I know it. And Mikey will be up there with him. I’ve got no idea what I’m going to do in college, or if I'll even go to college. Not to mention the fact that Mikey also has absolutely zero idea as to what he’s gonna do either. 

“Gerard, we're all out of water!” a little boy shouts running behind him. Gee’s always been so good with kids, he’ll be an amazing dad one day, everyone knows it. He spent so much time growing up babysitting the kids on the block and hanging out with them on the weekends, almost acting like their leader. 

“Nooo!” Gee shouts, collapsing to his knees dramatically. 

“Alright guys, I’m gonna go grab a towel from inside, I’m drenched,” I laugh walking back towards my house. Mikey follows behind me, wringing out his t-shirt and his sneakers squelching with each step he takes. “Your hair is so wet,” I laugh, turning to look at him.

“I know. That’s what I get for trying to protect you,” he grabs me by the waist as we get into the house. I feel my cheeks slowly blush, immediately realizing, one, that he’s touching my waist and not in a ‘we’re just friends’ way and two, that he’s actually a lot taller than me, meaning that when he looks down at me, he's the perfect height to kiss me. God, how have I never really thought about Mikey like this? I stand huddled over while he grabs a towel from the closet and passes it to me. 

“I’m cold,” I sigh, tying my hair up and out of my face. We sit down on the porch again, watching Gerard terrorize the kids by shoving the hose in their faces and laughing maniacally. Classic Gerard Way. 

“Of course you’re cold, my brother’s little army gave you a shower,” he laughs. “But you know what?” 

What Mikey? What? What would you possibly say that could make me feel even better than I feel after spending the entire day with you?

“What?”

“You had absolutely no business looking that good back there.”

//

Feedback is appreciated! Please request on my page if you have a story idea. I write for lots of different fandoms so request anything and I'll write it!

[obey-me-headquarters]

Pet au: How would the brothers react to an owner who wants to help them bath?

Lucifer: No. Absolutely not. Lucifer is usually pretty obedient, but seeing him naked is something he won't allow. He hates being without his clothing, hates showing any skin. He knows that he's not in his prime and wouldn't want you to see him naked. He'll even lock the door when he's taking a bath because he doesn't want you walking in.

If you insist, then Lucifer is extremely uncomfortable. His knees are up, and he's crouching to try and hide as much skin as possible. Looking at you with an expression that tells you that he just wants to get this over with. He might even snap at you to hurry up if he thinks you're dragging this out.

You can try to coo and compliment him, but he'll only give you a scowl in return. Do not do this if you want to build trust with him. If you respect his wishes and let him bathe alone, he might ask you for help preening his wings after his bath.

Mammom: flushes a deep red when you suggest that you're going to help him bath. "Wh-why do ya want to do that?! I can bathe myself, ya know!" He insists, but he doesn't put up too much of a fight if you insist.

He's very embarrassed when he realizes that you're going to see him naked and will try to argue that he should bathe in his clothing. "It's a two for one deal! Now ya don't gotta do laundry!" When that doesn't work, he gets into the tub. At first, he'll try and act all cool and like he's unbothered that you're seeing him at his most vulnerable. He'll try and be self-sufficient, scrubbing his own body and trying to insist that he can wash his own hair.

But the warm water relaxes his muscles, and soon, he's only half protesting as you run your fingers through his hair. Mammon can't help but relax into your touch. No matter how closed off your relationship is, Mammon becomes absolutely boneless in your care. Will whine and pout if you try to move away to grab the conditioner. He does not want to leave the tub, even when he's a raisin and the water has gone cold.

When he finally comes back to his senses after the bath, he's extremely embarrassed and will avoid you for a day or two, but after that, he's asking when his next bath is.

Levi: is immediately blushing the second the word "bath" leaves your mouth. He very obviously doesn't want you to see him naked, but is too skittish to actually say anything. Levi already needs help with cleaning his tail, and you two do that when he's fully clothed. He's already absolutely mortified during that, so he doubts that he'll survive you seeing him naked!

When you two get into the bathroom, he will try to stall for as long as possible. Sometimes, he's standing completely still, not even breathing, in the hopes that you'll get bored and leave. When he's finally naked and in the tub, he's curling up into the tightest ball. When you tell him to close his eyes when you rinse, he doesn't open them until the bath is over.

The only way to get him to relax, after many, many stressful baths, is to bring anime into bathtime. You get anime themed bath toys and even play anime on your laptop that's sitting on the bathroom countertop. The anime helps. He can't keep his eyes closed when there's anime to watch. The bath toys make him more active during bathtime, as he quickly starts to explain the plot of the anime the toys are from. Soon, he's playing out scenes and rambling about characters and their arcs. After a few baths, Levi whines when you try to get him out of the bathtub, pleading for just one more episode.

Satan: You kinda have to help him bathe when you first get him because he's never been in a bathroom before. Whenever he got too dirty at the ring, his handlers would hose him down from outside his cage. So, working a shower nozzle? Using soap? All new concepts to him. He finds that he feels embarrassed when you bathe him. He doesn't understand why - he's been naked in front of handlers countless times before.

Getting his clothes off is easy. What Satan struggles with is the concept of sitting down in water. He doesn't understand how this is an effective way to get clean. Aren't you sitting in your own filth? You have to explain to him that most people aren't actually that dirty when they bathe and that the soap cleans all of the dirt. The first time you bathe him, he's actually dirty enough that you gotta refill the bath a few times.

When he gets settled and the bath water stays clear, Satan finds himself relaxing into the warm water. He expected that water to be freezing cold, as the water was only ever freezing when his handlers used the hose, so he wasn't looking forward to having to sit in freezing cold water. So the warm water is definitely a surprise, but an incredibly pleasant one.

He can't help but relax in the tub, even when he's still unsure about his place in his home, and the relationship you two are fostering, the warm water washes alway all concerns. As the water seeps into his bones and softens him, he can't help but lean into your gentle touch as you scrub through his hair and whine a soft trill whenever you smile at him.

Asmo: he's immediately all for it when you bring it up. He's always looking for a way to show you his best assets, and this will be a perfect opportunity! He doesn't understand that you're not looking for that kind of bath, even when you insist, multiple times, that you're not going to sleep with him.

He still doesn't believe you and is extremely confused when you don't get into the bath with him. Well, no matter, he can still show you what he was made to do as you scrub his hair. Maybe he can convince you to join! Maybe this whole thing is a test! Yet when you pay his flirting no mind, when you look away to grab a bar of soap when he flutters his eyes lash at you, Asmo starts to get a little worried.

The bath can either go two ways: Asmo slowly gets more and more stressed as you don't pay attention to him the way he's expecting. Until he's breaking down and begging you to just get it over with and fuck him. Or he settles down and lets himself get pampered, and relishes in all the products he gets to chose from. The trick to get the former instead of the latter is complimenting Asmo. If you make it seem like you still like him, and that you're just trying to get him to look his prettiest (for you, his mind fills in for him) then he has a must better time letting himself relax and enjoy himself. Even if you refuse to get into the bath Asmo will still try to convince you to wear a face mask.

Beel: He actually prefers that you're there. When he was with his previous owners the only way for him to get clean was when one of them washed him down with the hose. He also never had a reason to go inside his own owner's house, so he's never been inside of a bathroom before. So he's quite nervous about accidently breaking something.

When you get him into the bathroom Beel is quite nervous. He feels too large, no matter the size of your bathroom. Your presence calms him down a bit, at least if you're here he can simply stand off to the side and let you turn the shower nozzle. If he touched that on his own he'll probably break it. When he realizes that he's going to have to get naked to get into the bathtub he gets a little bashful. He never had a reason to get naked in front of his previous owners, so he'll ask if you can turn around when he takes off his clothes. It doesn't matter if you're going to see him naked anyway, for some reason him stripping off his clothes while you stand there watching him is just too embarrassing for the gentle giant.

Beel tries to make himself as small as possible in your bathtub. No matter how big it is. It has less to do with you seeing him naked, and move about him accidentally taking up too much space, or getting in your way. When you get him bathing him he actually gets a little exicted, as everything is so new to him. I hope you're using baby shampoo because Beel doesn't understand the concept of closing his eyes when you rinse. When you get into the rhythm of scrubbing his hair, rinsing, and repeat, Beel actually feels himself relaxing. The warm water is relaxing muscles he didn't even know was sore, and your touch is so gentle. He actually forgets about his rumbling stomach for a while as he leans into your touch. 

Belphie: if you two built up a good relationship than he's fine with you bathing you. He'll probably fall asleep the moment he lays down in the warm water. You have to remind him to stay awake, or else he might accidentally drown a bit. It's not his fault! The water is just so warm and soothing, and aren't you his owner? Isn't it your job to make sure he's safe and doesn't drown? Belphie immediately falls back asleep after making this argument. You have to get one of those baby float things for Belphie's neck when he's in the bath. It paints kind of a ridiculous picture, but Belphie doesn't care. The bath is relaxing, but you can't take your eye off of Belphie for too long.

If you two haven't built up a good relationship! Nope. No gonna happen. He's not going to be vulnerable around a human. Hissing at you when you mention the idea, and says that he's not going to go in the bath with you. Unlike Lucifer, who will only verbally deny you, Belphie will actively fight you if you try to force him into the bath. You have to practically drag him kicking and screaming into the bathroom. It's the most energized he's been in a while, but he's not getting into the bathtub without a fight.

Getting his clothes off is basically impossible when he's fighting you, so you have to bath him when he's still wearing most of his clothing. When he's actually in the bath he's scratching you and throwing bottles of soap at you. It's less about him being naked, and more not give you what you want.

Even if you back off after mentioning the bath, Belphie becomes extremely suspicious of you and will start locking the door whenever he's in the bathroom.

[bimbo-travel-blog]

Hi, I was looking for somewhere to relax for a week after a stressful semester and noticed one of your towns pig farms had a spare cabin and apparently a spa. I was wondering what sort of beauty treatments they offered as the brochure didn't go into much detail?

Oh baby cakes it just transformational there’s no other werd for it.

I mean for real as members of the tourism department we get free visits to all the facilities in town, and let me tell yew the girls that go to The Serene Sow Spa don’t werk here long. Lol, I mean those girls get Dumb!

So jelly. I gotta write all day 😡 it’s the worst.

Anywho baby blue. We’re talking about you! Lol that’s so true! Haha anywho… what Wuz ah talkin’ bout?

Oh yeah!

Spa Day!!!

Haha soooo glad you’re comin’ to stay! I Mean visit!

First thing after check in is a quick two hour relaxation session in the spa. While your bags are brought to your cabin you’re sitting in a salon chair with a pair of cute pink headphones snug over your ears. Binaural beats, soothing music, and the subtle sound of piggy squeals will leave you feeling dazed and relaxed. (Relax and listen to the beat. Relax and sink into your seat. You don’t even have to think. Being a pig is your kink.)

After that you’re treated to a lovely meal in the spa’s restaurant. Delicious food filled, loaded and overflowing with all the chemicals needed to plump yew up and dumb you down! And dang are those headphones still on? Lol your forgot all about them! That’s okay they’re so comfortable and the way they make your head feel is soooooo nice. (Pigs like you know what to do. Pigs like you chew chew chew. Getting full is so much fun! You’ll be wet by the time you’re done.)

After you’ve gorged yourself to your satisfaction, it’s time for a relaxing massage. Just lay there while one of our experts has their way with your body. Kneading the tension out of your muscles. (Being touched is good and right. I let anyone touch me without a fight. Hands on me make me hot. Even when they rub places they should not.)

Finally you end your day with a nice soak in our therapeutic mud bath. Relax with a mud mask, and limitless margaritas! Let our mud soften your skin, shrink your pores, and erase any blemishes that might be making you unfuckable! All the while our mud mask helps turn your nose into a cute upturned snout, though you’ll probably not notice much of a difference on your first night, especially if you’re on your third marg!!! (It feels so good to play in the mud. Soaking in the mud makes me happy. In the mud is where I belong. In the mud I wish I was stuck. In the mud is where I fuck.)

Then we hose you down with warm water and send you stumbling to your cabin. Don’t worry about your clothes, we got you a robe and slippers. Oh and are those darn headphones still on? Well you look so cute with them, why don’t you just keep them on for the night? By now you’re used to the fun buzzing, used to how hard it makes it to think, how comforting the subtle oinks and squeals it feeds you are.

Then the night is yours bitch.

Most piggies spend it masturbating. Which is always a correct choice for a Bimburough Bimbo. But others choose to raid the mega-fridge stocked with complimentary eats and treats. Maybe drive to town for dinner if you think you can still drive in a straight now. If not the cops might take you in for driving while hypnotized!

Whatever you do you’ll be lulled to sleep by your favorite headphones as they spend the whole night reinforcing all the lessons you’ve learned that day. (Thinking is hard, eating is good. Relax and eat. Touching is good. Crave touch. Mud is good. Crave mud. It’s good to be touched in the mud. It’s hard to thinking when you’re eating. It’s hard to think when you’re being touch. It’s hard to think in the mud. Not thinking makes you horny…)

And that’s just day one!

More to cum, but I’ve written soooooo many words! I need to fuck!

[kalamity-jayne]

I wish I could tuck. it just seems to hurt me every time I try and never ends well. I was hoping hormones would help some but they haven't really worked very well and even affected that area.

do you have any advice/guidance? not being able to tuck just makes me feel really bad and miserable and not very girly.

Hi anon!

You’ve come to the right place with this question because I have lots of advice when it comes to the subject of tucking.

When you first start tucking, there’s no getting around the initial discomfort and “pain”. Pushing your testicles up into the inguinal canal and keeping them there takes some getting used to. Now the reason I put “pain” in scare quotes here is because there is some pain when start out doing it but it should be a kind of dull achey pain. Like, if it feels like someone giving your testicles a firm but moderate squeeze, that’s normal. It should never ever feel like a sharp pain! If your tuck is making you wince you need to carefully undo it immediately. If you’re experience a sharp pain there’s a slim chance it could be an anatomical issue (everyone’s bodies are different) but most likely it either has to do with one or several of the following things that can be changed: Technique, Gaff, and testical size. Also, like I said, even without HRT, eventually you do acclimate to how it feels having your testes inside the inguinal canal such that the sensation will hardly even register let alone hurt.

Now, you mentioned being on HRT. I don’t know how long you have been on HRT but with time your testicles will shrink, even if you penis stays roughly the same size. Tucking does get significantly easier the further along you are with HRT. So even if you’re testicle size is currently giving you trouble it almost certainly will not be an issue later on. Eventually the shrinkage should make tucking effortless and easy.

It’s also possible there is something off with your technique. It’s a little difficult for me to imagine how one might do it so incorrectly as to get torsion but I can walk you through my tucking technique. First, I make a peace sign with the index and middle finger, I use those two fingers to push the testes up into the inguinal canal and rest that hand on my pubis mons with the upside down V crook of the peace sign at the base of my penis. Then I gently pull the penis back along the perineum with my other hand, you want to pull it pretty far back but don’t go nuts, you don’t need to pull it all the way back to your anus. As your holding your penis back up against your perineum your testicles should be able to stay inside the canals on their own freeing your index and middle finger to pinch/grab the empty scrotal tissue and roll it up around the shaft of the penis, like nestling a hot dog inside a hot dog bun. I find it helpful to think of the scrotal tissue I’m wrapping around the penis as labia, and it should look vaguely vaginal though that isn’t the point, rather it’s to ensure all the loose fleshy bits end up inside the gusset of your panty so they don’t get pinched. Continue holding all those bits together like that either with the hand you just used to wrap the penis or with your tightly closed legs and pull up the gaff to hold it all in place, move around a bit and adjust accordingly.

And that brings us to Gaffs. Holding it all in place with tape can be painful and ultimately wasteful, so I highly recommend investing in some good gaffs. A gaff is basically like a normal panty but with a few key differences. The are generally made with stretchy but compressive fabrics like, they have a wider gusset (the underside area that would typically cover the vagina or in this case your tucked penis), and they sometimes have some extra padding in the frontal pubis area. In a pinch you can use a swimsuit bottom or double up a pair of normal panties and then wear some tight jeans. There is a way to make a down and dirty DIY gaff out of an athletic sock and panty hose but I can’t vouch for how comfortable that is and it is certainly the least sexy option. Fortunately these days there are a number of good gaff makers out there (Etsy is a great place for this) and there’s almost too many to enumerate here. I recommend trying a few different styles out and seeing what works for you.

However, there is one gaff maker I do want to highlight because I think they are great for someone like you who is still trying to get the hang of it. https://www.etsy.com/shop/LeoLines?ref=l2-about-shopname Now these are def not the sexiest gaffs but they are full proof. These are the gaffs I turn to when I need an ultra secure tuck that won’t need readjusting. I recommend starting the bikini style for going out and about and practicing at home with one in the thong style. The former is easy and if something is less than perfect about your tuck it’s unlikely to be an issue and the latter, because it’s a thong, will help you get the hang of keeping it all tight, particularly with wrapping the penis in the scrotal tissue, because if you don’t do it right it’ll get pinchy pretty quick but you can easily adjust it because your still at home. The other reason I recommend LeoLines as a starter gaff is because of the extra padding in the front and the amount of compression in the fabric which allows you to achieve the tucked effect without actually tucking (a lot of gaff makers will make that claim but it’s mostly BS with the exception being LeoLines). LeoLines also offers swimsuit gaffs and is the only gaff I know of that makes them in children’s sizes (this was a big deal for my trans niece cause she used to do gymnastics and loves to swim and wanted to wear the same stuff the other girls wore).

I also highly recommend every trans girl check Origami Customs! https://origamicustoms.com/collections/all-underthings/products/mesh-gaff-hipster-underwear They have gaffs in every style and size and even to custom fits. But they also have a sizing guid that’s helpful for buying regular underwear! Like, ever wonder why a particular style of panty never seems to fit right? It may not be your size but rather the shape of your butt!

Lastly, it’s very important to exercise a bit a common sense with tucking. It’s really important to take breaks. If your tucked during the day then you need to untuck at night, especially before going to bed. Once you’re farther along with your HRT and the testicles have shrunk this becomes somewhat less of an issue, at least pain-wise. It’s also important to take breaks and give your junk opportunities to air out, especially during the hotter seasons when you’re more prone to sweating. If you do too much tucking and you genitals don’t get any airflow at all, you could contract a fungal infection, ie Jock itch or other kinds of irritation. But if you don’t tuck when you go to bed, and maybe even give your self some time at home to be naked, you’ll be fine. I’ve gone through months long periods of tucking every single day, even at the gym, and never had any issues. I do recommend wearing softer gaffs if you just shaved your bikini area, gaffs like the ones on LeoLines can exacerbate shaving irritation but if you wait till the day after you shaved you’ll be fine.

And that’s basically it for my tucking advice! I hope that helps you anon!

Love,

🌷Mother Calamity🌷