#happy birthday jen!!!

[starryeyedjanai]

sitting between comfort and chaos

steddie | 5.7k | rated: teen

5 times everyone thought Steve and Eddie were dating before they got together + the first time Steve tells someone after they actually get together

happy birthday @legitcookie!!! i hope you had a fantastic day!💗

read on ao3

1.

Thinking back on it all, Steve thinks he should have known something was up when Dustin started letting Eddie sit up front when he drove them places, a spot reserved only for Robin or Erica when Dustin was riding with him.

Steve has seen that kid - who's not really a kid anymore, he's in college now which is so weird to think about - elbow his friends in the neck trying to get to the car first so he could ride shotgun. So giving up the coveted spot for anyone - even Eddie - should have been a giant red flag.

Steve brings up Dustin letting Eddie sit up front to Robin and gets an eye roll for his trouble.

"What?" he asks. "It's not like it isn't weird. The kid will literally only let you or Erica sit up front and he only lets Erica do it because he's afraid of her."

"Yeah, and he let me sit up front because he thought that we were a thing or about to become a thing or whatever," Robin says, like that explains anything.

"Right," he says, not quite getting what she's getting at.

Dustin knows better now and has stopped bothering them about it, stopped asking Steve when he's going to finally ask Robin out. It only took a million years, but he thinks Dustin gets it now.

He still lets Robin sit up front out of habit - and because Steve refused to start the car the one time Dustin tried to bully his way up front with Robin after figuring out they would never be a 'thing'.

"You know he still kind of idolizes both of you and now that you're, you know-" Robin says trailing off.

Steve lost the thread a little bit, but he nods. "Sure, sure," he says.

Now that he and Eddie are friends, Dustin has stopped bugging them about about each other. Maybe Robin's right. Dustin is still just idolizing Eddie and that's why he lets him sit up front.

Steve still thinks it's weird though.

2.

The first instance Steve can remember something weird happening even before Dustin started letting Eddie sit up front was at a club in Indianapolis.

Robin's sitting in between him and Vickie in the booth, talking about her classes this semester, when she stops short.

"Rob?" Steve asks, and then waves a hand in front of her face when she doesn't respond.

She snaps out of it when he boops her nose lightly. "Uh, um. Don't look, but-"

He immediately looks in the direction she was looking in when she spaced out and tries to scope out what she saw that caught her attention so hard she stopped talking. He sees the crowd of dancing people in his line of sight, but he doesn't see anything out of place.

"I said don't look!" she snaps at him and he turns back to her.

"What? I don't see anything!" he says, feeling chagrined at her snapping at him like that. "You can't say 'don't look' and expect me not to look."

"Just- Eddie's, like, dancing on someone right now," she says, tone almost apologetic.

Steve fails to see what's so special about that. Eddie's always hooking up with someone when he and Steve come out together. He doesn't even think it's the first time Robin's seen it, so he isn't sure why she's so shocked. Vickie has a sympathetic look on her face when Steve glances at her to see if she thinks it's weird that Robin is bringing this up.

"Okay?" he says, voice lilting high at the end like a question.

"And you're okay with that?" Robin asks, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Uh, should I not be? He's always hooking up when we go out," he says, looking back over and yep - he's got his tongue down some guy's throat on the dance floor, the guy's hands gripping Eddie's ass to bring their hips together. Steve feels a ribbon of want float through him - it's been a while since he hooked up with someone.

"So, you've got like an arrangement where you can hook up with other people?" Robin asks, confused.

And Steve is also confused. The way she says 'arrangement' like it has connotations that he should understand. Why would he and Eddie have even talked about hooking up with anyone?

His slightly tipsy brain tries to rationalize it - maybe she's talking about when they go out just the two of them, like if Eddie hooks up with someone, Robin's assuming Steve would be all alone. He doesn't have a problem with it - he's a social butterfly when he's drunk and even if he wasn't, Eddie running off to go dance or make out or hook up with someone gives Steve time to find someone to hook up with himself. It's not like he's ever bored when he goes out with Eddie.

So he tells her, "He can literally do whatever he wants, Bobbie."

She sips her drink and stares at him, her gaze scrutinizing, and whatever she sees must appease her because she drops it and starts talking about her courses again.

When he remembers that conversation the next day, all he can think about is how bizarre Robin was acting.

3.

The next weird occurrence he can remember happening, he didn't even find out until after the fact that something was awry.

He's on vacation with most of the older crew, staying at a house near the ocean, just a small little bungalow, for the week that they're in California.

When Steve and Eddie go to drop their suitcases off in the room Nancy shuffles them towards, they pause.

There's only one bed.

He and Eddie look at each other and Eddie says, "Maybe all the rooms have one bed?"

"Yeah, yeah, probably," he says, dragging his suitcase to the far side of the room.

"We probably shouldn't say anything, right?" Eddie asks, later, before they all head out to the beach. "Like, about the room?"

Steve thinks about it. He knows Nancy is the one who got the keys to the house through her parent's friends and she got here earlier than them and scoped out the place. If there was another option to them sharing the same bed, Nancy would have told them. "Yeah, I mean. It's fine, right? You don't have a problem sleeping next to me?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Oh, of course not. I'm good sharing if you are."

"Yeah, it's no problem," Steve says. He kind of can't remember the last time he shared a bed with someone other than Robin when she stays over at his apartment sometimes.

"Okay, then we'll just. Keep it to ourselves. Besides, I feel like Nancy would skin us if we tried to complain about a place we aren't even paying for," Eddie says with a grin. The perk of Nancy's parent's friend having a vacation house is that even though it's a little small, they let them use it for free. And it's empty because they only use it when it's winter in Hawkins.

"She one hundred percent would," Steve agrees, so they drop it and don't bring it up. Too few beds isn't the end of the world.

Waking up with Eddie's arm firmly wrapped around his waist is fine, nice even. If Steve turns off the alarm that woke him, snuggling back into the embrace, making them both late for breakfast when they finally do wake up, that's no one's business but his own.

-

It's later, after they're home, that Eddie stops by and tells him about the extremely bizarre conversation he had with Nancy the last day there.

He says, "So something weird happened on vacation and I don't know what to make of it and I'm only telling you because you're the only other person it affected," as soon as Steve opens the door.

"What happened," Steve asks, instantly worried. He lets him in and Eddie starts pacing in the living room. Steve goes to sit on the couch.

"So, that last day on vacation, Nancy asked me to come sit on her suitcase because it wouldn't close with all the souvenirs she bought. I went into her and Jonathan's room and there were two beds," Eddie says, stopping in place to look at Steve to gauge his reaction.

His eyebrows shoot up. "Oh," he says. He's really not sure what to make of that either.

Eddie starts pacing again.

"Yeah. So I asked her why there were two beds in their room, but not two beds in our room - kind of put my foot in my mouth if I'm being honest. I didn't mean to just blurt it out, but then she said 'we were just trying to make sure everyone was comfortable'," he says, inflecting his voice higher to mimic Nancy.

"What the hell does that mean?" Steve asks, trying to wrack his brain and see if he remembers her telling him anything about her and Jonathan's relationship being shaky. He thought they were good. There were some rocky times before Vecna, with the distance and everything, but once they were both in the same place again, things seemed to smooth out between them. They've been happy together for years as far as he could tell.

"Exactly!" Eddie says, finally coming to sit on the couch next to him. "I literally asked her what does that mean? Because I had no idea. Still have no idea. She said 'what? It's not like you have a problem sharing with Steve', which honestly something about her tone made me feel like I was stepping on her toes, so I just dropped it. But I can't stop thinking about it. Are she and Jonathan okay?"

"As far as I know," Steve says. "That's so weird. But if there is something happening between them, it would make sense that they'd call dibs on the one room that has two beds. I gotta talk to her and see what's going on."

"Don't, like, tell her I told you or anything," Eddie says to him. Steve still thinks it's hilarious that Eddie is patently afraid of Nancy and her guns, which are mostly retired and locked up.

"'Course not," he says. "I'll just ask how they're doing the next time we hang out. I hope it's something they can get through at least."

"Yeah," Eddie sighs. "If they don't make it, how are the rest of us supposed to have a chance?"

Steve does ask Nancy about it later, just casually asks how she and Jonathan are doing.

She kind of narrows her eyes at him and says they're fine, but her voice is suspicious like she isn't sure what he's getting at. He drops it because he's also a little afraid of her.

The entire situation just leaves him confused, though.

He doesn't bring it up to Nancy again, but he does talk to Robin about it because his conversation with Nancy left a weird feeling in his chest.

"Eddie told me Nancy and Jonathan had separate beds on vacation," Steve blurts out, trying to go for casual, but absolutely failing.

She looks over at him with a weird expression on her face and says, "Yeah, I thought you knew that? It was just how it all shook out. Nancy just wanted everyone to be comfortable." And those words are eerily similar to what Eddie told him Nancy said about it.

He asks, "What do you know?"

"What do you mean?" she counters.

"You know something," he says, narrowing his eyes. "Are she and Jonathan alright? I tried asking her, but I felt like she was gonna bite my head off."

"They're fine," Robin says. "Nancy and Jonathan were just taking one for the team."

Steve's still so confused.

Robin must see the confusion on his face because she grabs his hand and says, "Look, we don't really ever talk about it, and that's totally fine by the way, but we all just want you to be happy."

Steve isn't sure where that came from or what it has to do with Nancy and Jonathan, but he's touched that his friends want him to be happy, he supposes.

4.

It's when he and Eddie get an apartment together that Robin brings up the thing she said at the club, jogging his memory of that bizarre night.

She's helping him unpack his room, putting stuff in the drawers, leaving space in some of them like she expects half of his wardrobe to be filled with something else. He thinks it's just another one of her weird quirks. Does she keep yarn for her knitting projects in half of her dresser or something?

He's hanging some shirts and she's folding his jeans when she blurts out, "You know, you don't have to let him 'do whatever he wants' just because it's what he wants, right? You're allowed to have a say in it too, you know."

It takes him a minute to realize who she's even talking about and even longer to realize she's referring to the conversation they had at the club years ago now.

"What- Eddie?" he asks confused. She nods, so he asks, "Why, because we live together now and that should, like, change something?"

Robin sighs, setting the folded jeans in the drawer. "I just mean, this doesn't exactly seem like the type of thing you'd be into. You've never mentioned wanting-"

He cuts her off, and says, "I mean, it's not like I don't also hook up with people when we go out."

That shuts her up for a solid minute. He watches as she processes it and almost wants to roll his eyes. His friends really think he has no love life whatsoever, huh?

He knows he hasn't dated anyone in a long time, but he's fine hooking up with people when he and Eddie go out sometimes. He can't say he doesn't miss having someone, or being in a relationship, but he's fine for now. He's still young, he still has time, you know?

Robin looks at him and says, "Okay. Okay, if that's something you want. Only if it's what you want, though. Don't just let Eddie talk you into something you don't want to do. Don't let him walk all over you."

"Yeah, of course," he says easily. "And if you're worried about us bringing people back here and it causing tension or whatever, we have rules in place and everything."

Robin says, "That- that's good! Rules are good."

'Rules' might be stretching it, but they did talk about guests not staying for longer than one night and trying to keep it down when they do have guests and that's good enough for Steve.

Luckily, Robin seems content to let him drop the subject and talk about how they're thinking of decorating the living room.

5.

The invitation comes in the mail.

Max popped the question - surprising Lucas, who had been agonizing for weeks over how to propose - a few months ago.

They knew the invitations were coming. Max told him over the phone that they'd be coming soon and that she expected them to send back an RSVP even though she already knew they'd be coming.

Steve checks the mail and is surprised to find just one invitation addressed To Steve & Eddie.

He takes the mail inside and shows the invitation to Eddie, who's eating his breakfast, still a little bleary-eyed and soft from sleep.

He drags the chair at the kitchen table closer to Eddie's chair and drops into it as he watches Eddie frown at the envelope in his hands.

He looks at Steve and asks, "Just the one came?"

Steve nods and Eddie opens the envelope to pull out the invitation.

They look over the invitation and Steve notices the RSVP section doesn't have options to add a plus one for either of them.

"Wow," Eddie says, dragging the word out. "None of our friends think either of us would manage to convince someone to come with us to the wedding, huh?"

Steve hums in agreement. He knows Robin, Dustin, El, and Erica helped Max and Lucas with the invitations and no one saw an issue with this one.

"God, are we both so extremely single that not one of our friends thinks we could find a date?" Steve asks, putting his head in his hands.

"Truly and deeply so fucking single, dude," Eddie says, rubbing a hand over Steve's back to lament with him.

+1.

"Hey, can we talk?" Eddie asks him after dinner one night and Steve's heart immediately starts beating out of his chest.

That phrase, even uttered by a friend, out of blue, makes him think something is wrong. He has the irrational thought that he's about to get friend-broken up with or that maybe Eddie wants to get his own place or something, which would really fucking suck.

They've lived together for a long time and are kind of co-parents to a cat now - it would just be a supremely inopportune time for Eddie to suddenly decide he wants out.

Eddie must see the anxiety in his expression because he quickly says, "No, it's nothing bad. It's just- it's actually something good, I'm hoping."

"Uh, okay," Steve says, wringing his hands a little with worry.

Eddie takes a deep breath and says, "So you know how I haven't really been interested in going out or hooking up lately?"

Steve nods, his heart finally calming down a little. Eddie hasn't wanted to go out lately, but it's fine - Steve hasn't really been all that interested either, more content to just lounge around the apartment with Eddie than to go out and try to meet new people.

"It's because there's someone I'm kind of interested in right now, but I'm not sure if he likes me back. It's a close friend, so I've been debating whether or not to say anything because I don't want to screw things up if he doesn't feel the same," Eddie says.

Steve's eyebrows furrow trying to think of who Eddie could be into. The thought that he might be into Jeff or Grant or Gareth, one of his closest friends, makes something in Steve's stomach swirl. He's not sure he likes that. Eddie dating a close friend, moving out to move in with him, sharing a life with him - that leaves a bad taste in Steve's mouth.

But it's Eddie - and Eddie deserves to be happy - so he says, "I think if you like someone, even a friend, you should tell him. If he's into guys, I mean. He'd be a fool to say no to you, whoever he is."

The smile that lights up Eddie's face is a little painful to see for some reason.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Eddie says.

Steve expects Eddie to get up and leave, to go find whoever it is he's into, but he stays put, on the couch next to Steve.

He reaches out and takes one of Steve's hands in his, still looking at him, like he's waiting for something.

Thoughts churn through his brain, first wondering why Eddie would hold his hand when he's apparently in love with one of his friends, and then realizing that he's probably also in the category of people Eddie considers a close friend and then-

Oh.

"Me?" Steve whispers, eyes wide.

That smile is still there, fond and happy.

"You," Eddie says, squeezing his hand.

"But why though?" he blurts out.

Eddie laughs. "We kind of share a life together, dude. We have a cat together and a home. And like, I don't think I've ever wanted anyone the way I want you, so there's also that."

Steve looks at him and thinks about their friendship up until this point, thinks about them deciding to move in together, to keep the stray cat Eddie found, the natural stop to them going out to clubs and bars in favor of staying in together and curling up on the couch.

He thinks of waking up for a week straight on vacation with Eddie's arms wrapped around him, feeling safe in his arms.

He thinks about the feelings that wrap around his heart and squeeze when he looks at Eddie sometimes.

He thinks about Eddie's hand in his right now.

He squeezes his hand back.

"I did say whoever you were into would be stupid to say no to you," he says.

"You did say that," Eddie says. His cheeks are a little flushed and Steve is overcome with the urge to pepper kisses all over them.

He scoots closer on the couch and says, "I meant it."

Eddie leans in closer and says, "I want to kiss you, but I want to be sure that we're on the same page. Like, it's not just about wanting to fuck you, which I do by the way-"

Steve interrupts and says, "I mean, I kind of got that when you said you didn't want to ruin your friendship if I didn't feel the same."

"Shut up, I'm trying to confess my love to you," Eddie says.

"Love?" Steve teases.

The blush on Eddie's face deepens, spreading down his neck. "Kind of. I mean, I've known you for how long now? I think it's kind of impossible to know you and not love you."

There's heat prickling behind Steve's eyes, embarrassingly enough. "I'm gonna kiss you," he says, instead of addressing how that one line has absolutely swept him off his feet.

He pushes closer, closing the small distance between them, getting his mouth on Eddie's for the first time.

Eddie sighs against his mouth, this pleased little sound that lights Steve up from the inside. He wants to kiss Eddie until he's dazed with it, wants to hear all the noises Eddie can make, wants to draw them out of him with his mouth and his hands.

Eddie kisses him and kisses him and kisses him until his mouth feels tender under Eddie's.

He pushes Steve backwards on the couch to lay on top of him, his hips in the cradle of Steve's thighs. He keeps kissing him as he settles his weight on top of Steve, their bodies pressed flush together.

They lick into each other's mouths for a long minute, just tongues tasting each other and mouths moving together.

Steve is working up the courage to touch Eddie, to put his hands on him, when he hears him hiss in pain. He pulls away from Eddie's mouth and sees Trick clawing her way up Eddie's arm to get on the couch.

Eddie sits up and pulls her off his arm and deposits her on Steve's chest. She immediately steps on his windpipe in an attempt to curl up near his head.

"God, your daughter is so mean to me," Steve says as he moves her off his neck.

"To you?" Eddie asks, looking at his arm to make sure he's not bleeding. "It was my arm that she clawed."

Eddie's still perched between Steve's legs, but with Tricky on the couch, there's no way they can go back to making out.

And-

"I have to tell Robin," Steve says.

Eddie grins at him and asks, "Immediately after our first kiss? You're gonna run over to her place?" There's no judgment in his voice and that makes something in Steve's chest feel tender - that Eddie knows how he is with Robin and isn't weird about it.

"Yeah, it won't take long. I'll be back before you know it." Steve watches as Eddie climbs off him and adjusts himself in his pants. He covers Patricia's ears and says, "Trick won't like it, but when I get back, we can lock her out of the bedroom so she can't interrupt us next time."

"Oh yeah? And what are we gonna do 'next time'?" Eddie asks.

"Whatever you want," Steve says, watching the flush return to Eddie's face.

He bites back a grin and says, "Hurry back. I'll, uh, I don't know. I'll get myself ready or something."

Heat floods Steve's veins. "You gonna be waiting for me with a rose in your mouth when I get back?" he teases, trying to dissipate some of that heat.

"I think you're the roses boyfriend, not me."

"Boyfriend?" Steve asks, standing up from the couch.

"Boyfriend," Eddie says, cupping his jaw and kissing him again. It's easy to get swept up in it, the feeling of Eddie's mouth moving against his, the feeling of Eddie's hands on his waist.

He pulls back from the kiss with a slick noise and says, "I'll be back in like twenty minutes."

Eddie nods and lets him go.

Steve grabs his keys and heads over to Robin and Vickie's apartment where he knows Robin will be.

"Bobbin," he calls out as soon as he opens the door to her apartment.

"In here," she calls back from the kitchen.

He rounds the corner of the kitchen and says, "I'm pretty sure I'm in love with Eddie."

He watches several emotions pass over her face, none of them excitement, and deflates a little bit.

She says, "Okay?" like it's a question, like she's confused.

"Like, we're dating now and I'm. We like each other and I'm pretty sure it's more than that for both of us," he say, hoping to get some kind of reaction from her.

"I don't understand," she says.

"What's not to understand? Eddie and I- we're together now," he says, in case she didn't get it the first time.

Robin squints at him and says, "Okay, but you've never wanted to talk about it before. What's changed?"

"What do you mean, what's changed? We kissed and he said he was confessing his love to me. I thought you'd be happy?" His chest feels a little tight at the thought of Robin not approving. He really thought she'd be happy.

"Did you, like, break up and not tell me? Why would him confessing his love to you warrant a house call? Where is this coming from?" she asks, and Steve's moment of hurt is replaced with a deep sense of confusion because they are somehow not on the same page about this.

What the hell is she talking about?

"Rob, what do you mean break up?" he asks, feeling off-balance.

"I mean, you and Eddie have been together for years nowso I'm not sure what you're talking about." She looks in his eyes and then lights up. "Oh, are you trying to tell me you're exclusive now? That's exciting!"

Steve just stares at her for a minute, memories of the weird things his friends say to him and Eddie and the weird things that happen coming rushing to the surface. The weird conversations he's had with Robin over the years, feeling like they were talking about two different things. The first vacation where they shared a bed together even though there was a room with two beds, and how it happened again the next time they all went on vacation together. Dustin letting Eddie sit in the front seat of his car. The one, singular wedding invitation.

He's not even sure how to broach the fact that his friends all apparently thought he and Eddie have been together for years, but he says, "Eddie and I weren't dating before now. We literally just got together. We, like, literally just had our first kiss less than fifteen minutes ago."

"That's not funny, Steve. You guys have been in each other's pockets for closing in on five years now," Robin says, coming to sit on a bar stool at the kitchen island. "You, you live together and have a cat together."

He can see her mentally going through all the things she thought about them as he comes to sit next to her.

He gently says, "We weren't together before. We were only friends before today. I'm not sure what we did to make you think that we were together, but you know I'd talk to you about anyone I was dating, even Eddie."

"It's not just me!" Robin says, looking at him again with a piercing stare. "It's everyone! We all know. Or we thought you were together. I'm so confused. How is it possible that you've never kissed before? Like, wait a minute."

She stops talking and puts her head in her hands.

"What are you doing?" he asks her when she doesn't say anything for a couple minutes.

She pinches the bridge of her nose as she says, "I'm trying to channel my memories. Because there has to be a time where I asked you point blank if you were seeing Eddie and you said yes."

"I can guarantee you won't find that memory. Because it doesn't exist. Because Eddie and I weren't dating. Until now," he says.

"You went to Max and Lucas' wedding together!" she says, looking at him triumphantly.

"Not really," he says. "We thought everyone just thought we were both terminally single or something and that's why they sat us together."

Robin smacks her hand against her forehead. "This makes no sense to me. Wait, I asked you if you were in an open relationship before! We talked about it at the club and again when you moved in together. How do you explain that?" she asks.

"That time at the club, I thought you were talking about him ditching me to hook up. It didn't bother me. That's literally all I said. Not that we were in an open rela- wait, you really thought I'd be in an open relationship with someone?"

"I know! It never made sense to me! You're like the most monogamous person I know," Robin says. "Okay, I get that we crossed wires there, but what about when you moved in together? I talked to you about it then too. You said you had rules about hooking up."

He can see how saying that might have been misleading. He says, "I meant like, rules about keeping it down, not about us dating and hooking up with other people." He feels a headache coming on.

Robin looks just as exasperated as he feels. She looks like she's grasping at straws when she says, "You're always together and you touch each other all the time. When I've seen you cook together, you're always bumping his hip or hand-feeding him extra ingredients."

"We live together, of course we found a groove cooking together." he says.

"A groove, okay," she says, rolling her eyes. "But even before then, you were always hanging out."

"Because he's my closest guy friend? Closest friend in general other than you," he says, still so unsure how he missed his entire friend group thinking they were together.

Steve doesn't know how this happened - how all his friends could have thought they were together when he didn't even know how he felt about Eddie until today. How could he have missed this?

But listen.

Steve has never claimed to be a smart man.

If anything, he thinks Eddie should have caught on long before he ever did, so he's holding strong that it's not his fault he didn't see the signs. If Eddie couldn't see them either, how the hell was Steve supposed to be able to?

"And now you're boyfriends," Robin says, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"And now we're boyfriends," he agrees.

She grins over at him and says, "That's the first time you've said the b-word. This is the first time we've talked about it and you said the b-word. You really weren't dating before now."

He shakes his head. "We really weren't. And I seriously can't believe you ever bought me saying we were in an open relationship. It's like you don't know me at all," he says with a sniff.

"No, I was extremely confused about it, but you were happier with him than anyone else I've ever seen you with, so it didn't matter what I thought, you know?"

Steve's face smooths out at that and his heart melts a little. He loves her so much.

He hugs her to his side and she playfully shoves him away.

"I can't believe I've had it wrong - we've all had it wrong - this whole time. The more I think about it, though, the more it makes sense that you weren't together. Like, I expected you to be talking about him all the time, but you never really gushed about him to me. At first, I thought it was because it was your first boyfriend, you know?" she says.

He nods. He can get that. What he can't get is- "You were okay with me not talking about him, sure. But you really think I wouldn't kiss a guy I was dating in front of you? Or hold his hand?"

Robin shrugs and runs a hand over her forehead like she's getting a headache from thinking about it. "I thought you were just shy at first. Again, the boy thing. And then it was just habit not to or maybe Eddie wasn't into PDA- I was just guessing. And, I, everyone thought it, so it's not just me. You guys literally adopted a cat together, how were we supposed to take that any other way?" she asks in an exasperated tone.

"She's Eddie's, technically."

"You're telling me Patricia's not your daughter?" Robin asks.

"No, she is. But Eddie's the one that found her, so I'm just her step-dad," he says.

Robin stands up from where she's seated and says, "See! You say shit like that all the time and expect us not to think you're dating him?"

He winces. "Yeah, I kind of see it now. Well, good news is that we are dating now and I'm gonna go home and fuck him about it."

Robin rolls her eyes. "Christ, I can't believe I ever thought you could be dating him and be anything other than like that about him."

"Oh Robbie, when we come up for air, you're gonna wish we weren't like that about each other. Apparently, we've got like five years of PDA to make up for," he says with a grin.

[sofasoap]

The fluffff

Oh I would love to snuggle with him in the morning... 🤭

I MISS THE BESKAR MAN AND LITTLE GREEN PEA 😭😭😭

Happy birthday Jen!!!

Birfday - Din

For my birthday bash!

A friend suggested Din, fluff, and one bed. Well, here's a good mix of all of that. GN!reader, established relationship.

Word count: 668

You woke to warmth, the comfort of your riduur cuddled up behind you. For a moment you simply laid there, soaking in the rare moments when you were awake before Din. His soft breath tickled the back of your neck, one heavy arm still draped over your waist, even as he slumbered. 

You smiled, soft and small and totally indulgent. Maybe, if you were very sneaky and very lucky… 

It took a few minutes of shuffling around, gentle movements, and stifled giggles to get out from under his arm. You stuffed your pillow there instead, watching with amused adoration as he curved around the pillow, snuffling in his sleep, before falling still again. 

Success, this time. 

You snuck into the main room, starting the caf and pulling out food for the three of you. The view through the window showed the sun just over the horizon - much earlier than you normally woke, but worth it to treat your boys this morning. 

The soft sizzle of the pan and your own humming kept you company in the near-silence of the morning. You knew there was nothing in particular going on today. Din might want to make his rounds. 

Or you might tempt him away, just for today. If you got lucky. 

"Smells good in here," came the raspy greeting, even as arms wound around your middle. 

"Breakfast is almost ready," you told him, giving yourself one moment to lean back into the warmth of his embrace. "Now shoo before you burn yourself." The again hung silently in the scant space between you. 

"One time," he grumbled before pressing a whiskery kiss to the side of your neck, just to see your pulse jump. As it always did, for him. "I'll get the kid up." 

You hummed acknowledgement, focusing on plating food for the three of you. 

It wasn't long before happy squeals announced Grogu's presence, accompanied by soft murmurs from Din. You smiled. The sounds were soothing, a non-visual assurance that all was well. 

But the sight was quite nice, too. 

Din's hair was still rumpled from sleep, facial hair getting just long enough that you knew he'd trim it any day now. His soft gray sleep shirt stretched across his shoulders, the collar dipping just enough to give you a tantalizing hint of chest. 

Grogu, on the other hand, appeared wide awake and eager to eat, little hands stretching out towards his plate. The plate in your hand tugged, very gently. 

"Don't you dare, kid," you scolded gently. "Just wait." 

Grogu blew out a rude breath, waving his little hands around. 

"Patience, kid." Din tapped the table in front of the little one. 

Grogu pouted but waited until you set a plate in front of him and planted a kiss on top of his head. You set another plate at Din's place, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Breakfast was quiet and lovely. Din cleaned up, a gentle hand to your shoulder keeping you in your seat. 

You figured after that he'd start gearing up to go. So, naturally, you were preparing counter-arguments. 

What you were not prepared for was Din picking up Grogu and setting him down outside. "Go terrorize the wildlife," Din told the kid. 

Grogu made a delighted noise and immediately toddled off.

Din turned to face you, slowly, hands loose at his sides. His head tipped, just a little. 

Your heartbeat kicked up several notches. 

"Riduur," Din purred, taking one step towards you. You scrambled out of your chair, biting your lip to contain your grin. "You are trouble."

"Me? Trouble?" You stepped slowly away from the table, Din matching you step for step. "No idea what you mean." 

His eyes narrowed, just a little, before he pounced. You yelped, scrambling away from him, breathless laughter catching in your throat, even as your husband effortlessly corralled you back into the bedroom the two of you shared. 

Finally, trapped and breathless from laughing, you conceded defeat with grace. 

After all, you knew his ticklish spots. 

[gaveyouigaveyoui]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CHAPPELL ROAN 2/19/98

[lidicanread]

Sam Reid, the actor that you are. You contain multitudes. May you live long

[stickyfrogs]

Today there is an Exciting Birthday at the Stickyfrogs House! Jens and Voigt are turning 12! 🎉🥳🐸🐸🥳🎉

They had a Wonderful Time at their Birthday Party with their Special Birthday Bug Hats and Lots of Treaties!

Happy 12th Birthday Marvellous Jens and Magnificent Voigt!! 🎂🎁😊🐸🐸😊🎁🎂

[shadowsofrose]

HADES — Zagreus 1/∞

↳ Prince of the Underworld

for @mirageshot 🖤

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: A little gift fic for @musubi-sama Happy birthday!

You've enlisted the services of Geto Suguru to assist you with ridding yourself of strange dreams. In the world of curses, however, nothing is as it seems ...

CW: Mild sensuality.

There is something of the wolf in him.

Maybe it's the smile he wears like a summer garment, carelessly offered, carelessly discarded, a suggestion of bared teeth beneath. Maybe it's the languid grace, the ill-concealed strength beneath the rich material of the yukata.

It is, possibly, in the way his dark, dark eyes trace something unseen as their gaze glides along your seated form within the spacious, traditional room.

A predator's glance, yes, but one seeking tougher prey than you.

You start to wonder where you'd found the courage to mount those stairs, to follow the airy wave of the attendant, to take such a risk based on hearsay alone. It had been office gossip that had drawn you to this place, after all. It shamed you to say it, or even think it, but it was the truth. You'd been desperate, and you'd heard whispers of a solution, of his reputation in certain circles.

And here you were. It was too late for regrets.

As if reading your tumultuous thoughts, his eyes flick towards yours, the smile growing wider for a second. When he speaks, the afternoon breeze outside seems to still a little, to snake into the corners of the room, ready to do his bidding. Soft, cajoling, his voice commandeers your attention like a single, crisp footfall in a dark forest.

"You're here for my help, I presume."

Your tongue darts out, moistening your lips.

"Yes. I - You see, it's the woman who lives next door to me."

He nods, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Go on."

"She's elderly. Alone. I've never seen ... well, any family visiting her, but I've not been in the neighbourhood for long."

You pause, collecting your thoughts. How could this be phrased in a manner that didn't make you sound like the unhinged party?

"Recently, she's been asking to come over. I humoured her, a few times. Had her over for tea. I even gifted her a plant I'd bought. But then ... as soon she was inside the house, she changed."

"Changed?"

You shift slightly, the floor beneath the tatami mat suddenly harder against your knees.

"She becomes quiet. Weird. Like she's waiting for something. She's ... quite chatty outside, but when she's inside, she just ... becomes different. Anyway, that was just the first thing I noticed. I started to find ... these. Scattered over my doorstep."

You produce the dark, polished stone from your pocket, handling it gingerly. He makes no move, and so you approach, placing it a few feet away from him and settling back into a sitting position.

"And ... I know this sounds ... "

He waves a hand, nonchalant, as if nothing you say could possibly surprise him.

"After the stones started to appear, I started to have dreams. Really vivid dreams. In them, I am riding a train, like the one I take to work. It's a stormy day outside. So I look out the window, and I see clouds. Thick, dark clouds. And they start to form a shape."

For the first time, you see a glimmer of interest in those onyx eyes. The palm cushioning his chin drops away.

"Hmm. In your dream, is the train traveling away from, or towards the clouds?"

"Towards. In fact they ... form the shape of her face. With her mouth wide open. And she ... she swallows the train. It travels right into her mouth, with me in it."

"And what then?"

"I wake up. Nothing else really happens, except for ... "

He waits, fingers tracing idly along his earlobe. You clear your throat.

"Well, I wake up feeling like a ... child. A child who wakes up in the dark. Like I want my mother to come into my room and hold me. Many times, I cry. And it doesn't ... go away, the feeling. Even when I'm at work, even when I'm having dinner with colleagues, I just ... feel the urge to be embraced. By my mother. A parent. Someone. It's so strong that I ... locked myself in a toilet once and wrapped my arms around myself."

Your laugh is higher pitched than you'd prefer, brittle. You blink rapidly, fighting the cloudiness that settles across your eyes.

"My mother's long gone, and I've been living alone for many years now. I've never felt this way before. I can't explain it. I have a feeling. A feeling that it all has something to do with her. That she ... did something to me when she came to my house. The way she watched me. Like she was waiting for something."

He hums thoughtfully, straightening out of his semi-reclining position.

"In cases such as these, I think it works best to visit the site itself."

"The ... site?"

"Your home, of course."

"Oh. My - Oh. I really don't want to make you go out of your way. I live all the way over in - "

He rises, the fall of his dark hair echoing the slide of long sleeves as he gracefully re-arranges himself.

"And you've come all the way here, to me, for assistance. Please don't forget that you've paid us to render you a service. I hate to sound so ... transactional, but you've sought out our help. And you traveled by train no less."

His sly, sideways glance drags a reluctant smile out of you. He bows politely, the corner of his own mouth quirking.

"At your service."

He informs you of the time of his arrival, of course. His communication by text message is light, professional.

You arrange to leave work early that day, hurrying back to your home, eyes flickering across the fence to the door of the neighboring house. That's where she is. There is no sign of her at this time, but your imagination conjures up the twitch of a curtain, the soft shuffle of slippered feet within.

Your key slips slightly as you unlock the front door and you enter, closing it behind you with force. Taking a deep breath, you will your muscles out of their tense state.

He will be here soon. He will end this.

You busy yourself with tidying up, hands drifting aimlessly over dust-free counter-tops, shifting a few items around. Sitting is out of the question.

About forty minutes after you arrive, the doorbell chimes softly. Geto is standing a small distance away from the door when you answer it. He doesn't greet you immediately. His eyes are roving across the front of your house, sliding sideways, and you shiver as you see the look that crosses his face as his gaze lands on her house.

Not unpleasant. Almost eager. Hungry.

He turns to you with a smile, eyes curving slightly upward, and you're struck by how handsome he looks. In civilian clothes, a knitted sweater and jeans, black leather loafers and a silver wristwatch, he looks effortlessly beautiful, the swathe of dark hair gleaming in the mid-morning light.

Everything about him seems casual, luxurious. Besides the eyes, of course. They consume the warmth of the yard and reflect something you can't (and maybe don't want to) put a name to.

"Good morning, Geto. Please, come in."

You bow politely and he waves off the formality of your greeting. Somewhere, to the left, you hear a door creak slightly open. Geto steps forward and surprises you by slipping his warm fingers underneath yours, hooking and pulling you forward. You stumble out into the yard beside him and his smile grows wider. He spreads his arms out.

"Why go in when we can experience this glorious sunshine? Let's stay here for a bit."

The door of the neighbouring house is now open. You can hear the protesting squeal of old hinges, but you ignore it and play along with Geto's charade. It must have some meaning.

Shrugging, you finger the slightly frayed hem of your own cardigan.

"I haven't really stopped to soak up the sun for a while now."

He flicks your forehead in a manner that almost reddens your cheeks and by his knowing grin, he is aware of exactly what kind of effect his actions have.

"I've told you so many times. You're looking too gloomy. Flowers like you need sunlight and care."

It takes all of your composure to keep the soft smile on your face as you hear the slide of slippers across the paved garden path on the other side of the fence. Geto glances up and feigns surprise. Reluctantly, you turn to regard the face that has haunted your dreams for almost a month now.

She is openly staring, gaze fluttering between you and Geto with something that looks like alarm. You clear your throat.

"Miss Okoyama. You're out early."

She nods, but she is still scrutinizing Geto. Her voice is reedy, as always.

"Oh, I just ... saw you out. Thought I'd come over and say hello. Haven't seen you in a while."

Her tone sounds slightly accusatory and you feel a tinge of anger. Gesturing to the man beside you, your introduction is almost brusque.

"This is Geto. He's ... a work colleague."

"Ah."

Geto bows politely, playfully. He steps closer to you, and her eyes follow where he places his palm lightly on the small of your back. You feel the warmth of him through your clothes. Feeling more than a little flustered with how this entire situation seems to be unraveling, you grasp his sleeve and tug slightly.

"Let's not keep Miss Okoyama out too long. She needs rest."

Geto greets her politely and follows you back in. You can feel the interrogator's beam of regard on your back, the icy hot trail of watchfulness passing between you and Geto once again.

Once in the safety of your living room, you drop heavily onto the sofa, hands coming up to massage your temples.

"Well. At least you got to meet her."

He laughs and settles down opposite you.

"I'm beginning to see the problem here."

"You are?"

"All too clearly. You mentioned before that this ... strange behavior started last month?"

"Around then, yes."

"And you said that she changed when she stepped into your house?"

You nod, wringing your hands slightly.

"I don't know. Yes. Maybe. I just ... had a weird feeling come from her."

He rises and motions for you to stay seated as he begins a cursory inspection of your home. As he peers into various corners, a stream of questions keeps your attention focused on answering accurately, as opposed to wondering what he is searching for.

"What did you speak about? When she was here?"

"Different things. Our lives, I guess. My job. My family. Her family."

"You mentioned your mother to her?"

You hesitate slightly, watching him as he traces light fingers over the kitchen counter, moving towards your bookshelves.

"Oh, yes. She asked me."

You're not quite sure why you sound so defensive, but he appears not to take notice. He is now examining the books on your shelves.

"Interesting collection you have here. Have you ever leant out any books to her?"

"What? No, never. I mean, after I started having the dreams, I never invited her back here."

The wandering fingers have now flitted from the bookshelf to the stand beside it, holding a small basket for your keys and a potted plant. Feeling a sudden surge of impatience, you stand and make your way to the kitchen.

"Would you like some tea? Coffee, maybe?"

"Oh, don't mind me."

He is now softly brushing the leaves of the pot plant, and you're reminded of how those hands felt a short while ago, fingers coiled around yours. Large, substantial, warm, their strength beyond your ability to guage.

You busy yourself preparing coffee, the rich, decadent scent as enticing as his presence here, in your space. You hear a faint clink and rustle, but when you turn, he is making his way towards the kitchen, sniffing appreciatively.

"Actually, I'd love some coffee."

Your fingers drum across the counter-top.

"Did you ... find anything?"

He doesn't reply immediately, picking up the package of ground coffee and examining the label.

"Does she often ambush you in the yard like that?"

"Once or twice. I ... usually manage to avoid her."

He sets the package down, deceptively delicate. You raise your eyes to his. This close, you can smell the ocean bite of his cologne, cleaner and lighter than you expected. The faint shadow of long lashes falls against his cheek, magnified by the overhead light. His breath fans warm across your cheek, shockingly intimate in the small space. His voice, when he speaks, is soft, so soft.

"Do you know about curses?"

"Curses?"

He wags a teasing finger.

"Dont look at me like that. Curses are very real. They inhabit our world, and us."

You're aware of the line of confusion forming between your brows.

"I don't think I follow. Are you saying that she's cursed me?"

"Not quite. You see, a curse is something that can only be knowingly placed by an expert. And yet, so many of us go about our lives, unaware of the curses that others place upon us. The curses we place upon them. The curses we harbour within ourselves."

You're not sure about the source of your uneasiness, but it is growing. You place the blame on his proximity, the way you can hear his lips part when he speaks.

"You miss your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I - "

"I can feel it. It's here, in the air. Your longing for her."

"After those dreams -"

"No. Before them."

His contradiction is matter-of-fact, a contrast to the feathery contact of his fingers with a stray lock of your hair.

"You must have missed her terribly, to be holding something like this inside yourself."

"What are you talking about?"

You don't mean to whisper. You never meant for that hoarseness to find its way into your voice. The fine balance of terror and desire, now on a honed blade's edge, glides across your skin alongside his fingers.

"I'm talking about your curse. The one you placed on Miss Okoyama."

"That's nonsense and you know it. I've never - "

The black pebbles clatter across your kitchen counter, falling from his fist like a miniature, contained hailstorm. Your muscles lock in place as you watch the sleek, dark grey stones scatter, as if following some unknown law of impact.

"Where did you get those?"

"From your pot plant. These stones are just beneath the surface of the soil. Was it a plant like this one that you gifted her? Did those pebbles on your doorstep really come from her?"

The marble of the counter digs into your back as you lean away from him.

"You need to leave. Now."

His laugh is easy, full of merriment, as if the conversation you've been having isn't fraught with confrontation, tension and (on your part), anger and fear.

"Now, now, there's no need for that."

He straightens, and suddenly, you're aware of how much taller he is, how that gnawing edge of perpertual starvation in his glance has focused its full force on you.

You are prey.

You can't let him go further, and so, you attempt to defend yourself.

"What are you doing? Are you blaming me for all of this?"

"I am. But not in the way you're thinking. You missed your mother. You invited this woman into your home, a presence who may have subconsciously reminded you of her. You gifted her this pot plant, and you began to see a change in her."

He reaches across, ignoring the way you flinch, and gently places his forefinger on the region of your heart.

"You carry a desolation in here. You don't even know it's there, most days, because does one question the desert one inhabits? The drought that came without another's love has been here for a long time. Your dreams of Miss Okoyama reflect your desire to be consumed, rather than escape her. It doesn't change the fact that you are fearful of this need."

He taps the stones.

"You fill the pockets of your heart with stone weights, and you drop them into a lake deep inside yourself. You unknowingly ensnared Miss Okoyama with these same little tokens. But curses never stay silent, do they, my dear?"

Your breathing has migrated to the realm of rapid, shallow pants, dampness breaking out across your brow. You are afraid, so deathly afraid. You want someone to hold you. You want arms wrapping around your body, around and around, a meteor belt lashed to the gravity of your never-ending need.

You want -

His hand is cupping your jaw, so warm, so warm, tilting your head up, your panicked gaze meeting his bottomless hunger. You have so much to give away, this curse as he names it, and if he can help you, then -

"Please."

You hear the desperation in your own voice, and hate every drawn out syllabyl of it.

"Please take it from me. Remove my curse."

"With pleasure."

His head dips with slow, dancer's grace, his mouth covering yours like a drift of autumnnal leaves over the cold earth. It is only chaste for a moment; he is now languidly prying you open with his tongue, lapping at you. The heat of his lips, the soft hum of approval that rumbles through his chest, the final firm slide of his arms around your waist seals in the perfection you have been craving.

This, this, is what you needed. It's all that you -

He licks a stripe across your lips playfully, and then, impossibly, deepens the kiss, your head tilting back under the force. You let out a small sound of pleasure, but your eyes snap open again when you feel something else.

He is hungry. That much is evident in the way he shifts his head from one angle to the next, dampness crawling over your lips and smearing hot along the sides of them. Something is different, though.

There is a strange coil in your stomach, one you'd initially mistaken for arousal. It feels almost as if ...

Gasping, you place your hands on his chest, as if to shove him away, but he is too strong. Keeping his mouth fixed over yours, he drinks of you deeply. And he draws something out.

Eyes widening, you go limp in his grasp as his teeth latch onto your bottom lip, nipping harshly. Those large hands map out the curves of you, tracing the valley between waist and hip, sinking into your flesh, tugging it relentlessly out of you.

For one, long, agonizing moment, you feel a tearing separation within you, one that makes you cry out, breaking the kiss, you head whipping back and forth. He speaks soft words of encouragement, unrelenting in his hold on you, pressing you back against the counter as equal parts arousal and fear war within your ravaged mind.

You eyes open, briefly, but you see it. It hovers in the air, a grotesque apparition of rolling eyes, spidery fingers and an oversized head, claws reaching for you, before it is drawn into a crushing black hole of darkness.

Geto's mouth opens, wide, so wide, and you watch, paralysed, as that black sphere disappears within him, gliding along the velveteen length of his tongue, drawn behind the pearly cage of his teeth, down, down, an eclipse of the throat, until nothing is left.

A terrible rush of fatigue assails you, turning your limbs to lead weights. And yet, there is such relief. It feels as if you've emptied your pockets of every stone you've collected, every little increment of isolation you've endured for such a long time.

Before your vision swims beyond the recoverable, darkness creeping in at the edges of it, you see the satisfied look on Geto's face.

He has swallowed your curse, and the heaviness it brings to your heart.

You regain consciousness hours later, tucked safely into your bed. There is no note, no communication on your phone, and yet, you lie for a moment, staring at the ceiling, feeling more complete than you have in years.

The gnawing hunger was something you'd never known was there, until it was gone. No wonder Geto had seemed so familiar to you in his presence. The thing inside you was just as much of a predator as he was, just so much weaker.

You do wish that you'd regained consciousness before he'd left, though. You'd have liked to thank him for what he's done for you. Glancing across at your phone, you know, with some kind of visceral certainty, that he will never contact you again.

Your fingers rise, trace softly over your lips, and your eyes close once again.

Maybe it's just as well that you were passed out. You hadn't seen Geto leave, hadn't seen him pause on the stairs and glance sideways before nodding slightly, finding no trace of your curse left hovering at the door of that hapless woman's abode.

Miss Okoyama would return to her regular self soon enough.

Geto paused on the street, sliding a small spray bottle of disinfectant from a pocket, as if by instinct. He raised it, the nozzle facing him, before considering it thoughtfully.

He smiled and tucked it away.

[conjuring-ghouls]

I nearly cried and almost gave up a thousand times, but finally, this is my birthday present for @copias-juicebox 🥰🖤 Happy birthday, girl, I hope you have a wonderful day and that Papa shows up to celebrate with you!!

[borgialucrezia]

— Happy 40th Birthday DAVID OAKES ↴

"One thing that I think is nice to do is to work out a character that you can make the audience warm to. So, I think all of them, whether it's Juan in The Borgias or even William Hamleigh in The Pillars Of The Earth, the people you're supposed to hate because they do heinous things, but you might get an idea of why they do what they do. I think it's nice to find the human in the heinous." (✦)

[allaboutjmo]

[endlich-allein]

Happy birthday, Flake 🎈

"Birthday Boy Madrid 2023" @ paulharries

© Jens Koch IG story

"Happy Birthday my friend!" @ richard_von_rammstein

"Once Upon A Time In Prenzlauer Berg…. Christian ‚Flake’ Lorenz photographed in some backyard in Prenzlauer Allee ca. 1997. Happy Birthday to the multi-talented artist, musician, writer, radio host, car lover and whatnot. Have a wonderful day, Flake." @ olafheinestudio

[gaveyouigaveyoui]

𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔶 𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥𝔡𝔞𝔶, 𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔲𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫🖤🐍

[cleighwrites]

know who you belong to

SPN Fanfic

Characters - Jared x Jensen

Summary - Jared has Jensen right where he wants him, tied to his bed and completely at his mercy. 

Word Count - 3,916

A/N - Happy birthday to @jld71!!! This was based on her prompt, and beta’d by @candygramme!! Please heed the tags!!

Warning - NSFW, NONCON, restraints, sensory deprivation, ball gags, spanking, anal (fingering, rimming, and sex), coercion, forced face fucking, date rape drugging, top Jared/bottom Jensen, hurt/little comfort, inadequate aftercare

Read it here on Ao3

Jensen drifted into consciousness slowly. The first thing he realized was that his ass was cold. The second was that there was something in his mouth. He opened his eyes to darkness. Something was obstructing his vision. When he moved to remove the offending material, he found that he couldn’t move his arms. 

Heart racing, he yanked both arms, trying in vain to free himself. Just as he started to panic, he heard a noise off to his side. He blindly slung his head in that direction.

“You’re mine now, Jensen. It’s about time you realize it.” 

The voice was deep and commanding and slightly menacing. He knew that voice. He’d felt that man’s breath against his neck. 

Jared. 

“At’s gogon?” Jensen asked around the gag, pulling at his restraints again. 

Despite the interference, Jared seemed to understand him perfectly. “I’m showing you who you belong to.”  

Jensen was baffled. He’d known Jared for about six months. They’d flirted at the office, gone out for drinks a few times, even made out outside the bar. What brought on this sudden change of behavior? 

Drool dribbled down Jensen’s chin and he pressed his face into the mattress he was strapped to. 

“You’re beautiful like this,” Jared said, running a finger along Jensen’s calf. 

Jensen tried to pull his leg away and close his legs to preserve his modesty, but he couldn’t move. He hadn’t noticed that his legs were strapped as well. His heart rate spiked again. What would Jared do to him? It was clear what he had planned, but… why? And why couldn’t he remember how he got there?

“Do you remember anything about last night?” Jared asked. 

Jensen thought about telling him to fuck off, but it wouldn’t do any good, and it would be prudent not to anger the man. Instead, Jensen shook his head. 

“We went to San Jac.”

Jensen tried to remember, but it was all fuzzy. He vaguely remembered Jared inviting him out for drinks again. 

“Then you flirted with that dipshit from accounting while getting drinks.” 

He couldn’t imagine who Jared was talking about, let alone a circumstance where Jensen would flirt with someone else while being out with Jared. He supposed his general disposition could be misconstrued as flirting, but who reacted like this to someone flirting with someone else at a bar? 

“I’ve been patient with you, Jensen, but that was the last straw. Now, I’m going to show you who you belong to. Once and for all.”

Was there any way in hell he was getting out of here alive? Would Jared kill him? What the hell? Jensen had to play nice. Whatever Jared had planned couldn’t be more than what he’d already thought about doing with him in the first place—what he’d fantasized about, even. He’d get through this, then he’d never have to see Jared again. Hopefully.

“I wish I knew what was going on in that pretty little head of yours.” 

A hard smack landed on Jensen’s right buttock, causing him to jump and jerk at his restraints. Jensen whimpered.

Jared purred. “My handprint looks amazing on your ass.” 

Jensen’s cock twitched at the thought. He could imagine Jared tilting his head to admire the view with a satisfied smirk on his handsome face. 

“How many strikes do you deserve?” Jared asked himself, clearly not expecting Jensen to answer. 

Jensen jerked again when he felt Jared’s hand caress the spot he had hit. Jared chuckled darkly. Clearly, he was getting a lot out of having Jensen spread out before him like his own personal buffet. 

“Let’s see… you were talking to him for about ten minutes, so ten strikes. You’ve already taken one, so nine more.” 

Jensen tried to beg to be let go, but the gag just made it sound like incoherent babble. He shook his head in an attempt to dislodge the gag or the blindfold, but neither moved. The bed dipped as if Jared were kneeling beside him, possibly to get a better angle. Jensen strained and tried to pull away from him. 

“Now, now,” he crooned, running a finger over the swell of Jensen’s left buttock. 

Jensen tried to regulate his breathing but found it difficult. He fought back tears as he waited for what was to come next. He hated that he was so vulnerable, completely at Jared’s mercy. If this had been consensual, he might have liked it, but as it was, he felt used and humiliated. For all he knew, Jared could be recording this.

Without warning, Jared’s hand landed on Jensen’s ass again, this time, on the left cheek. Jensen yelped in surprise and pain. He’d felt the strength of Jared’s hands on him, he knew he was holding back, and he was grateful for that fact, but–again–he wondered why. What was the point of punishing him halfheartedly? 

“Since you can’t really count, I’ll do it for you. Two.” Jared’s hand came down again. “Three.” And again, and again. “Four, five.” 

He paused at the fifth, rubbing the burn into Jensen’s skin. Against his will, Jensen was hard against the sheets and crying into his blindfold. 

“Leesh,” Jensen begged around the rubber in his mouth. 

“Please what?”

“Oock,” Jensen tried. 

“Stop?” Jared asked, incredulous. “Then how would you learn your lesson?” He tisked, then removed his hand from Jensen’s ass. 

Jensen tensed, knowing what was to come. Jared counted as he struck him five more times. Drool puddled under Jensen’s chin as he sobbed around the gag and through the blindfold. His cock leaked onto the sheets and he could feel how red his ass was. 

Jensen drew in ragged breaths, trying and failing to control himself. He was shaking and heaving sobs. He knew this was only the beginning.

“Aww,” Jared said as he rubbed something into Jensen’s abused flesh. 

It felt like oil. It was smooth and soothed his heated skin. As he rubbed Jensen’s abused cheeks his little finger slid between. After a few strokes, his finger pressed more solidly against his rim. Jensen knew what Jared was working toward. 

As many times as he’d thought about what it would be like to fuck Jared, this wasn’t even close to his wildest fantasy. 

“You’re doing so good for me,” Jared purred. 

As if Jensen had a choice. Under any other circumstance, Jensen may have blushed at such words, but being bound, gagged, and penetrated against his will, Jensen couldn’t find it in him to preen at the praise. 

Jared pressed the tip of his finger into Jensen’s hole. Jensen tensed but knew that wouldn’t stop Jared’s course of action, so he willed himself to relax. It would be much better for him if he simply accepted what was happening and allowed it. 

“That’s it…” Jared cooed as he pressed his finger in, down to the knuckle. 

“Umf,” Jensen groaned into the gag. 

It had been a while since he’d bottomed. He tried to breathe evenly and relax, so that Jared wouldn’t hurt him, intentionally or otherwise. The oil slicked Jared’s way as he pumped his finger in and out of Jensen. Tears still streamed into the blindfold, making Jensen’s cheeks warm and wet, and the drool on the sheets under his head began to cool. It was degrading, making Jensen feel more like a toy instead of a person. 

Jared removed his little finger and replaced it with another, thicker, longer one. When he crooked it just the right way, Jensen saw stars and bucked his hips into the mattress. 

“There you go, you’ve had your punishment; now you can enjoy yourself,” Jared said as he rubbed at Jensen’s prostate. 

Jensen hated how good it felt. It had been so long since he’d had any prostate stimulation. He could feel himself leaking onto the mattress. He wished he could deprive Jared of the satisfaction of his arousal.

Jared worked him up to two fingers, then scissored them to spread him open more. Jensen squeezed his eyes shut and let Jared do his work. If he thought hard enough, maybe he could pretend he’d asked for this. He’d always been curious about being tied down and blindfolded. Not necessarily at the same time, and probably after a few unlaced drinks, and some actual dates; definitely not a first-time, right-out-of-the-gate kind of thing. 

Once Jared could fuck him with three fingers, he withdrew. Jensen exhaled in relief, then he heard a zipper being undone. Of course, Jared was going to fuck him after all that, Jensen shouldn’t have been surprised. 

“Ooo!” he yelled around the gag, pulling against all his restraints again. 

This is not how he wanted things to be with Jared. If he had only said something or asked him if he’d wanted to be exclusive, none of this would have happened. Jensen’s mind raced, he had to think of some way to get out of this. Maybe if he screamed more? Or would that just turn him on?

“I’m going to ruin you for anyone else,” Jared promised. “Any time you even consider talking to someone else, you’ll remember my cock in your ass, and how good it felt.” The bed dipped again, and then suddenly, Jared’s voice was right in Jensen’s ear. “You’re mine,” he growled. 

Jensen barely had time to notice his dick twitch at Jared’s claiming words until he heard a shuffle, then Jared’s hands were hoisting his hips up from the bed, and something soft was shoved under him. Most likely, Jared had just put a pillow under him to hold his ass up while he fucked him. There was no denying that Jared’s acts were turning Jensen on, but the depravity of having his decisions taken away the way they were, was too much. He’d had no choice. 

“I know you probably think I’ve taken something from you, but I assure you…” Jared trailed his fingers over Jensen’s ass. “I’m giving you so much more.” He grabbed Jensen’s cheeks and spread them, massaging them and tracing around his hole on each pass. “You look delicious.” 

Before Jensen could comprehend what those words might mean, Jared’s tongue was lapping at his hole. He alternated between kitten licks to his rim, and deep, probing dips into him. Jensen’s eyes were squeezed shut so tightly, he was seeing stars. In his bonds, Jensen’s toes curled and knees tried to pull in, but he was otherwise unable to move. 

Jensen screamed around his gag as Jared ate him out. After a few minutes, Jensen’s body went rigid and his stomach tightened as his balls drew up. Jared added a finger to his hole and continued to lick and probe at him. When Jared crooked his finger, Jensen’s vision whited out, and he came with another scream. He could feel his come seep into the pillow under his hips. 

“You are glorious, Jens,” Jared said, resting his forehead on Jensen’s ass. 

The feel of Jared’s heavy breaths across his abused ass made his skin pebble and ache. The bed shifted again as Jared settled himself between Jensen’s chained open legs. Jensen could barely brace himself after such a powerful orgasm, he’d given up on trying to fight. Maybe he’d make it out of this alive if he just let Jared do what he would with him. 

“Leesh,” Jensen begged once more around the gag. 

“Such a good boy for asking nicely,” Jared said, just before lining himself up and shoving in. 

Jared thrust in quickly and firmly, stretching Jensen open brutally. Jensen screamed and tried to buck his hips to pull himself away from the intrusion, but Jared held him still. Jensen wailed and cried as Jared pulled all the way out and shoved back in again and again. Just when Jensen was getting used to getting railed, Jared shoved in and stayed there, grinding his hips into Jensen’s ass. 

Jensen was stretched wider than he could ever remember being, even more than with some of his more generous toys. Try as he might, he couldn’t relax and take it, Jared was too deep and too wide to relax into. He was everywhere. Jensen tried to bear down on him; make himself too tight to be railed into, but all that did was make Jared moan wantonly and fuck him more wildly. 

The blindfold that covered Jensen’s eyes was soaked through with his warm, salty tears, and the mattress under his face was sopping with snot and drool. His body was covered in sweat and his cock rubbed against the cool come from his orgasm earlier. He would have to shower for days to feel clean again. 

He tried not to focus on anything other than staying relaxed, or as relaxed as he could manage. 

“You’re so tight, Jens,” Jared groaned out, punctuated by thrusts. “So good for me,” he added. 

“Gahh,” Jensen moaned around the gag. 

“All for me,” Jared responded. 

Jared kept alternating between grinding his cock into Jensen and pummeling him like it was a sport. Jensen’s ass and jaw were sore, and before too long, Jensen felt himself start to drift off; suspending himself from his body and the pain he was in. He imagined that Jared was doing this because he cared for him, and he’d willingly been strapped to the bed and used. 

When Jared started to falter in his thrusting, Jensen knew he was getting close. Jared fucked into him for another solid minute before shoving in balls to balls and pumping his release into him. Jared grunted and groaned through his orgasm. Jensen could feel the pulse of his cock in his ass, and the sensation pulled yet another orgasm from him. He hated that his body was getting gratification while he was being forced to endure such abuse. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jared pumped Jensen’s ass full of his come and stayed lodged in his heat until he began to soften and his come started leaking out. Jensen had long gone lax beneath him. He wondered if he’d passed out, but didn’t care either way. 

Jensen whimpered when Jared removed his cock. Mushroom slapping Jensen’s ass, Jared wiped the come from his cock on Jensen’s bright red cheeks. He loved the flushed color on his pale, white skin. Knowing that he’d done that to him was almost enough to get him up again. But there was something he wanted to do before he took him again. 

Jared leaned back and admired his handiwork; white come sluicing from Jensen’s open hole down over his balls and onto the pillow tucked under his hips. The black sheets were darker from their juices and sweat, which made Jensen’s pale skin almost glow in the low light from the lamps. After taking a picture with his phone, Jared kneeled at the head of the bed and stroked a finger down Jensen’s soaked cheek. 

“Uhhh,” Jensen moaned, much less animatedly than he’d been screaming before.

“I’m right here,” Jared consoled him. 

Deciding to have mercy on him, Jared reached to the back of his head and unclasped the gag from the blindfold. Jensen worked his jaw, opening and closing his mouth as he did so. 

After a moment, he clenched his jaw. Jared watched as his lip began to quiver. “Please,” he sobbed.

Jensen was beautiful like this—broken and begging. There was only one thing missing. Slowly, Jared reached to the back of Jensen’s head once again and slid the mask from Jensen’s eyes. They were red and puffy and soaked with tears. His long lashes clumped together with wetness, and the green of his eyes was dulled with submission. He was the most spectacular thing Jared had ever seen. 

Fresh tears made their way down Jensen’s cheeks. “Please,” he begged again. 

Jared brushed a tear from Jensen’s cheek and shoved his finger into his mouth so he could taste his own tears. Jared’s finger brushed the back of Jensen’s throat, causing him to gag. Still, Jensen didn’t try to bite him or otherwise fight back, instead, his eyes slid shut. He was coming around. That was good. 

Jensen was his. He’d see that, and then all of this would be worth it. Jared belonged to Jensen just as much as Jensen belonged to him. For the past six months, all of his thoughts were consumed by Jensen. 

“Mmm,” Jared purred as Jensen began to suck his finger. 

Jared pulled his finger from Jensen’s mouth and Jensen’s eyes flipped open. They were full of questions; questions that Jared would love to answer more than anything. 

“You’re mine now, Jensen.” 

“Yours,” Jensen whispered back, his voice hoarse from all the screaming. 

“Good boy,” Jared said, already hard again, just from seeing how destroyed Jensen was. 

With his mouth available now, Jared decided to make another of his fantasies come true. He’d long dreamt of what it would feel like to have Jensen’s pillow-soft lips wrapped around his cock. Jared loosened the ties on one side, and tightened them on the other, bringing Jensen’s head closer to the edge of the bed. Once he was satisfied, Jared held his cock up to Jensen’s mouth and rubbed the precome along the seam of his lips. 

Jensen opened for him beautifully. Soft lips rubbed over his sensitive head. Jared closed his eyes and fed Jensen his cock slowly, savoring every inch. Jensen’s mouth was a sanctuary. So far, he wasn’t fighting him, but he wasn’t sucking him either. He was too worn out from everything Jared had done to him so far. 

“Be a good boy, Jens,” Jared warned. 

Jared pulled out a little, and then Jensen started to suckle him. It felt amazing, Jensen’s plush lips working around him as he sucked on Jared’s head. Jared eased more of his cock into Jensen’s mouth, and Jensen rubbed his tongue along the underside, right along that vein that drove Jared mad with want. 

Pushing in until he hit the back of Jensen’s throat, Jared reveled in the feeling of Jensen’s mouth. Finally, he knew what it felt like, Jared would never be able to get enough. Jensen’s face began to grow red and he was gagging around Jared’s head in his throat. Jared pulled back enough for Jensen to be able to suck in a breath, then began fucking his face. Jensen laid his tongue flat and kept his lips tight around him. 

“Your fucking mouth,” Jared slurred.  

“Mmm,” Jensen hummed around Jared’s cock. 

Jared felt the reverberation in his balls and fucked Jensen’s face even harder. When he felt his balls draw up, he felt Jensen suck his head as he pulled out. Jensen swirled his tongue around Jared’s crown as he pulled himself free. Jared jerked himself a couple of times, and then he came all over Jensen’s wet, reddened face. 

Jensen squeezed his eyes shut while Jared unloaded on him. 

“Open your mouth,” Jared growled at him. 

He obeyed immediately, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out flat over his bottom lip. Jared didn’t aim, but some of his come landed on Jensen’s tongue. The sight of his release on Jensen’s perfectly pink skin made Jared moan. Once he was finished he rubbed his juices all over Jensen’s face, then stuck his soiled fingers into Jensen’s mouth and rubbed them off on his tongue. 

Jensen gagged again; it made Jared’s blood rage through him. He’d never be able to get enough of him. 

Deciding that Jensen had had enough for one night, Jared set out to clean him up. As soon as he stepped away from the bed, Jensen’s eyes widened and he went to say something, but Jared put his hand up. 

“I’m only going to get something to clean you up with, I’ll be right back,” Jared assured him. 

Luckily, Jensen had been passed out long enough after the bar, that Jared had most of what he needed at the ready. He grabbed the fluffiest washcloth he had, then went to the ensuite to run warm water over it. Once he’d wrung it out and was satisfied it would clean him, Jared walked back out to where Jensen was staring at him. He realized this was the first time Jensen could see him fully naked. He smiled and did a little turn. 

“Like what you see?” Jared asked. “It’s all yours.” 

“Mine?” Jensen croaked. 

God, Jared could fuck him again just for sounding so debauched. 

“As long as you’re a good boy,” Jared confirmed. “Close your eyes,” Jared added, holding up the wet cloth to his face. 

Jensen did as he was told and Jared got to work rubbing all the fluids from Jensen’s face. Once he was finished with his face, Jared went to work between his legs, wiping and cleaning all the come that had dried on Jensen’s ass and balls. Pulling the pillow out from under Jensen’s hips, Jared wiped down his cock as well, noticing that he was hard again. So, he liked being taken care of? Jared took note. 

“Let me help you with this, then we can get some sleep. I have a busy day planned for you tomorrow,” Jared said. 

Jensen sniffled, then said, “Please,” in a broken whisper. 

“You beg so pretty,” Jared said, leaning down and kissing his hip. 

He loosened Jensen’s restraints enough to be able to roll him over onto his side, then laid down behind him and reached around him to grab his cock. He stroked him with precision, paying special attention to when he would stiffen or moan. It took hardly any time at all before Jensen stiffened and came with a pitiable moan.

“That’s it, Jens, let it all out,” Jared encouraged. Unable to help himself he bit down on Jensen’s shoulder, causing him to cry out. Jared was getting hard again but didn’t want to push Jensen too far on his first night, so he ignored it. 

Using the now cool cloth to wipe Jensen’s cock again, Jared cleaned him, then knelt at the head of the bed. 

“I’m going to unhook you now. If you’re a good boy, you’ll get to come tomorrow. If you try to run or fight me, you’ll sleep here for the night and you won’t come again until I see fit. Understood?”

“Yes,” Jensen croaked. 

“Good.” Jared nodded then began to unfasten Jensen, feet first. 

Once his feet were free, Jensen closed his legs and turned in on himself. This endeared Jensen to Jared even more. Jensen sniffled and turned his head away from Jared as he unhooked his arms. Jared didn’t think too much of it, he’d put Jensen through a lot for their first time together. 

Completely unshackled, Jensen curled in on himself. He cried outright. Jared felt for him, but he’d done so well. Not saying a word, Jared rounded the bed, leaned down, and picked Jensen up. He jerked at the initial touch but didn’t fight him. 

“I’ve got you,” Jared cooed as Jensen wept openly in his arms. 

Jared carried Jensen out of his playroom, down the short hall, and into his bedroom. Cool, fresh sheets greeted him as he laid Jensen down, then covered him up. He watched as Jensen curled in on himself again, and kept sniffling. 

Rounding the bed, Jared crawled under the covers on his side of the bed, then scooted over to wrap Jensen up in his arms again. He shushed and cooed at him while he wept. Jared’s heart raced as Jensen sniffled and sobbed until he fell asleep. 

Jensen was finally his.

[stickyfrogs]

There has been a Big Party at the Stickyfrogs House today! Voigt and Jens have turned 11 years old! 🎉🎁🐸🐸🎁🎉

They had a wonderful time in their Special Birthday Hats and they both got an Extra Large Birthday Treatie!

[sugarsnappeases]

Let loose a little bit !!!!!!!!

bartydoralily | 4.7k words | explicit | happy birthday jen @quillkiller MWAH <3333

Before he can get his hand under the lace of her knickers however, he suddenly jerks backwards. Lily opens her eyes just in time to see Marty getting slapped across the face by a woman with waist-length sun-bleached blonde hair. She has one hand holding the scruff of Marty’s top, and the other ready to slap him again. What’s perhaps most strange is the way that Marty’s eyes have lit up at the sight of this avenging angel. He grins as her hand connects with his face again and breathes, “Fuck, baby” “Barty, how could you!?” the woman responds, scowling fiercely at him, loud and a little theatrical. Apparently she’s referring to Marty because she points an accusing finger at him as she speaks. Lily thinks perhaps she misheard when he told her his name earlier, but the idea that he had probably said Barty seems somewhat more unfortunate than the name Marty had, so she resolves to wilfully ignore this discovery. ***** a bartydoralily festival adventure feat. an unspecified band, the most ridiculous argument known to man, a very lucky tree, and a stupid fic-wide bit that i can only apologise for

[chicalepidoptera]

A puppy-eyed Dale for Sam's birthday🖤