#It's been a while since I did anything but nda work and these were so fun

[chickpeamcb]

Commissions!

[for @knightwayne & @careful-silent-still]

[2-dsimp]

D͟͟͟͞͞͞A͟͟͟͞͞͞R͟͟͟͞͞͞L͟͟͟͞͞͞I͟͟͟͞͞͞N͟͟͟͞͞͞G͟͟͟͞͞͞ C͟͟͟͞͞͞A͟͟͟͞͞͞F͟͟͟͞͞͞E͟͟͟͞͞͞: F͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞a͟͟͟͞͞͞t͟͟͟͞͞͞u͟͟͟͞͞͞r͟͟͟͞͞͞i͟͟͟͞͞͞n͟͟͟͞͞͞g͟͟͟͞͞͞ t͟͟͟͞͞͞h͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞ Y͟͟͟͞͞͞a͟͟͟͞͞͞n͟͟͟͞͞͞d͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞r͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞ V͟͟͟͞͞͞I͟͟͟͞͞͞P͟͟͟͞͞͞ O͟͟͟͞͞͞n͟͟͟͞͞͞i͟͟͟͞͞͞ P͟͟͟͞͞͞o͟͟͟͞͞͞l͟͟͟͞͞͞i͟͟͟͞͞͞c͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞m͟͟͟͞͞͞a͟͟͟͞͞͞n͟͟͟͞͞͞

“So that’s it? All I need to do is just sign the NDA? And I can start working at the Darling cafe? There’s no need for my job interview at all?” You asked, in an apprehensive manner. Looking down at the sheet of paper which was placed in front of you by the smiley masked man who went by the name of Smiles.

“Yup! No need for a job interview or anything remotely tedious! You’ve already been approved by me, the head honcho of this particular Darling cafe branch. So there’s no need.” Your soon-to-be boss sounded off with a humorous tone in his airy voice that wasn’t muffled behind the mask. He merely spun a pen between his gloved fingers as if he was on autopilot. His other hand propping up his chin as he stared at you from his eye holes.

“All I require is for you to work wholeheartedly as a fine Darling in our establishment! Simple enough yeah?” He added, his tone carefree as he then leaned back within his office chair. His legs were crossed, while his arms moved to the back of his head.

This was your golden ticket out of debt! Your father being the deadbeat he was shifted all his debt onto you. His eldest child so that he could live Scot free and mooching off of the poor souls he swindled out of their money. To spend on drinking and gambling.

“Wow that’s great! You know I’ve heard some rumors about this place.” Smiles, stilled his eyes growing dark. He then inched forward from his lax position to hunch over the office table like a brooding old man. “Hah? What rumors did you hear sweetheart? Nothing strange right?”

“No, not at all! I’ve only been hearing good things about how the Darlings get paid generously. And even get healthcare benefits as well. I just wanted to fact check if that was true if that’s alright?” You rambled sheepishly, you had hoped that the rumors were true. You needed all the grace you could get with the shitty situation you’ve been held captive in.

After working many part time jobs that only paid minimum wage. You couldn’t help but be frustrated at how little of a dent you’ve made in getting your father’s debt off your shoulders. So it made you desperate to find any kind of job that would provide you the leverage you need to save yourself from potentially being sold off as collateral by the loan sharks.

“Oh that’s what you meant by rumors, haha! Yes you’ll be paid generously! As hazard pay will also be included.” You blinked at his words, hazard pay? What could be so hazardous working at a cutesy cafe of all things? You wanted to ask a question about it only for him to brush it off with an air of nonchalance.

“Don’t worry about that tibit too much it’s just a precaution per se. Since we cherish our Darlings dearly.” Smiley said with a serious undertone, while he had leaned back in his rolly chair to pull out a drawer to retrieve two stamps. Setting one onto the table next to you while he held the other in his grasp.

“Now to wrap things up, all I need you to do is sign the dotted line and then stamp yourself. Any part of the body will be fine.” He instructed, absentmindedly loosening up his tie. As if the mask he was wearing was making him feel a bit heated.

“Um stamp myself? As in just me and not the paper itself?” You asked dumbly, taking ahold of the stamp. It smelled alluringly sweet from the ink it was coated in. But the stamp mark would just wear off right? So what was the point?—

“It won’t wash off, it’s permanent. If that was what you’re wondering about dear.” Smiley, hummed pulling down his arm sleeve to reveal his stamp mark. It was a small QR code imprint on his inner wrist. “Let’s just say that It’s a safety measure we take to have your identity registered in our employee system. As lots of rats try to impersonate our workers/patrons or sneak in uninvited.”

That statement unnerved you a bit, but you didn’t have any time to waste. With determined hands you stamped yourself on the body part of your choosing. And steadily signed the dotted line completely missing how Smiles eyes had glowed faintly behind the holes of his mask.

His grip on the helm of the stamp he had splintered from the bubbling joy he felt at nabbing yet another prospective darling under his wing. The masked man could practically taste the sweet victory on his tongue. from beating his petty associate in a bet for whoever could pull in the most Darlings for their Yandere patrons.

“Well it’s been a pleasure. Welcome to the team Darling! Now let’s get you all prepped and ready for your debut to our lovely Patrons I’m sure you’d be a popular choice. ”

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“Alrighty Mister Koori, your Yandere Patron ID is all set for the Darling cafe!” Chimed the Helper at the front desk, they were neither a darling nor a fellow Yandere patron and seemed to be a working third party between the two factions within the Darling cafe. “Thank you for taking the time to fill out the questionnaires, it’s just to make sure your profile is 100% accurate for future darling match making.”

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The Helper hummed, tapping away at the service patron screen. Glancing up at the giant Oni man, who was a whooping 10 feet tall. Making everything dwarfed from his size, where he had to duck his head to avoid his horns from scraping against the top of the front door entrance. “And seeing as you’ve invested in becoming a VIP member of ours would you like to see the latest edition of Darlings within our fine establishment?”

“…”

Wordlessly the Water Oni extended his huge calloused hand towards the attendant. Waiting for the catalog to be placed within his grasp his face remaining blank. Though his frosty eyes betrayed his nonchalance with a glimmer of interest.

“None of these will do.”

Shimo, grumbled underneath his tusks. Scanning over the catalog over trying to find someone who’d be the calm to his brewing storm. The only reason he even invested his time in coming out here. Despite his distaste for being in a public crowded setting.

Was because of his police patrol partner, Naan’s recommendation of the Darling cafe. Singing it high praise reviews of how the cafe helped them to successfully capture their own lover.

“Well sir how about you take a look at the exclusive selection for our VIP guests. I’m assuming you’re looking for the sunshine type of Darling, yes?” The Helper guessed and Shimo merely nodded truthfully. Liking how observant the worker was saving him from any needless chatter about what he was searching for.

The previous darlings on the public catalog looked so bland in his eyes. The Policeman wanted a darling who’d be his ray of sunshine on a rainy day. An optimistic type if you will, as it’ll complement against his cynical outlook on society. Thanks to his tireless job of catching felons and menaces to society for a living.

“This one…I want them to serve me.”

Shimo said softly, his claw tapping at your portrait within the exclusive catalog. Where your profile appeared underneath the Newbie Darlings listings. He admired the way you were so cute in the picture. Hair all messy with a sheepish smile on your lips, you looked as if you walked into a gust of wind which knocked you off kilter. And it was no doubt your newbie appearance that attracted him.

“Hoh? You’ve got a good eye! Luckily that darling has just been recruited to be working with us today on opening night. I’ll be sure to schedule the both of you to meet immediately” The rapid typing from the Helper alongside a sound ping coming from Shimo phone. Indicated that the date had been set for 9pm, right around where his shift would end.

With a chuff of satisfaction he tipped his hat towards the Helper and sauntered off ducking once more underneath the door frame. His cold heart thrumming with heat from the thought of being able to meet his prospective darling in just a couple hours.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧

[9:00pm Opening night of the Darling Cafe]

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The whistling bells from the door rang as a familiar giant figure slouched his way through the small entrance. Shimo, was dressed in a traditional Oni garb, of exotic divine beast furs, his iron club situated right upon the strap of his waist.

He already had a look of annoyance at hearing how chatty everyone was in the cafe. Dreading jam packed spaces as he was easily prone to anger given his temperament. Nonetheless, the blue oni was guided by the Helper who greeted him politely. Making way for the VIP section where the ogre was pleasantly surprised with how spacious and quaint the area was.

“Mister Koori, here is your VIP seating section. So whenever you come in you can just waltz on in here and get comfortable without needing to wait in line” They had booths tailored for Yandere Patrons of all shapes in sizes. Ranging from the Giant plus section for the bigger customers. And fairy sized section for the smaller ones.

The Helper then checked his watch. His eyes fixated on the moving hands before he grew a faint smile. “Well mister Koori the Newbie Darling you’ve requested will be arriving shortly! Just tap this button if you need my assistance or have any questions.”

With a polite bow the Helper waltzed away back to his station at the front desk leaving Shimo to his thoughts. But it wasn’t long until his train of thought derailed at feeling a cold splash on his attire alongside a faint presence falling against him. He blinked slowly, veins popping out one by one as his tusks grew in pure agitation. He was about to put his iron club to good use.

That is until he heard your apologetic frantic voice drowning in his ears like a pleasant water stream. His chilled glare softened seeing the newbie Darling he’d handpicked himself. Situated between his thighs clutching onto the server platter. Their outfit also covered in the daiquiri slush.

“I’m so sorry! Oh no your exotic furs— My god they look like they cost more than my life, Just give me a moment I’ll wash them myself ASAP—”

Your floundering made his lips twitch upwards a bit in a slight smile. He didn’t look like it but he did enjoy fucking with people despite his no nonsense attitude.

“It does cost more than your life. These furs came from divine beasts I killed myself. It wasn’t an easy feat.” The Water oni spoke, his words as tranquil as the ocean. Glowering down at you with a half lidded gaze. His large clawed fingers gently tilting your chin upwards so your eyes met with his own.

“I could file for destruction of property in this case. So what’re you going to offer me as compensation? To make me overlook this incident, Darling?”

.

.

.

Let me know if yall wanna see more of the Darling Cafe! ψ(｀∇´)ψ

[fruitmins]

FRI(END)S | taehyung

➭ summary: in which Taehyung has some big shoes to fill after his hyungs went to the military. The stress of it all and utter loneliness causes him to make some grave mistakes. Like paying a girl to be his friend. But after months, he starts to feel something more. He doesn’t know if he’s just over pretending because she’s obviously just doing her job.. or if something more is there. And after a rough night, he finds out.

➭genre: short oneshot, slowburn-ish, angst, friends au

➭warnings: unedited properly, talk about depression, a couple bad words, he can kinda be seen as creepy but he’s just awkward i swear

➭note: i actually like this. chat i like writing, i wish i could do it more. Agust Dad is in the works tho..

Taehyung knew the members entering the military would affect him.

Sure they had moved out of the dorm and stopped living together ages ago, but he was saddened to see his hyungs go after being in contact for almost decades. They had watched him grow up and helped him through the complications of being an idol.

And now that he was making music and doing it all on his own? He felt the effects of their absence hardened.

He tried staying close to the other maknae’s but they were doing their own preparations for their solos and didn’t want to be a burden. He tried smoking but it would only stir up trouble and was too risky. He tried going onto Korean tv shows but it only felt like more work.

It started to get worse the more he worked on his music and the longer his hyungs were away. He’d stay day and night at the studio, working tirelessly on his album. And when he did venture to his apartment suite, it was cold and empty. The Bangtan group chat dry.

Alone.

He hated the feelings of being alone. After 2020, the tour being cancelled and not being able to see his new fans, being forced to stay inside. He had his members at the time, making English songs that blew up. But he wasn’t happy. He was alone.

And whenever he walked in the door of his apartment after a long day or night, he felt the same feeling. Dread, hopelessness. Empty. And then, the military would come and sweep him away as well.

He didn’t want to feel like that. Didn’t want to spend the time he had before the military being things changed for good, feeling like that. He wouldn’t put out good music for his fans and he wouldn’t do good for himself mentally and physically. He needed something, anything to give him comfort. He couldn’t go down that rabbit hole he once been in.

Sugar.

Your brain's reward system is activated, which releases dopamine, a chemical that signals pleasure.

In this case, Sugar, is a sweet caring friend. A paid friend. Ironic to the fake name she gave Jimin, she was a sugar baby. You are sugar, in every meaning of the word.

He felt weird at first, when Jimin gave him Sugar’s number when he reluctantly told his hyung how he felt one night while drinking together. But after texting for weeks and a shiny NDA contract, Sugar was his temporary paid companion.

They’d text regularly, and when he was feeling his most depressed he’d pay her to come to his house before he got there. They didn’t have to talk, she just had to be there so he didn’t feel like he was drowning in his pity and loneliness. So he felt like people still cared.

As much as he hated it, it was working. The text turned into meet ups at his house. The chilling turned into cuddling. And hell, he felt good waking up in the mornings. Music felt less like work. Life felt like, life.

But working on music, and releasing it were two different battles. And doing it with a group, and being solo, were two different battles.

Taehyung put on a smile as he went backstage, the chilling sound of his fans feeling his ears as his earpiece now silent as his sound ended. It had been a while since he preformed at a Mcountdown, and he had forgotten how many strangers there were backstage as they started profusely congratulating him.

He put on a shy smile as people started handing him a small fan and wiping off his sweat. Before anyone else could crowd him, he grabbed his phone and excused himself to the bathroom.

He could feel his hands shaking, the pressure of being on stage by himself bringing back that some feeling of loneliness. He had forgotten about it because of the fans, but being backstage was much more awkward. He remembered how he used to cool down backstage with his members.

He missed them, dearly.

His fingers shook as he pressed against his phone screen, going to his messages and clicking the top person. He knew it was Sugar, he had only talked to her recently. He asked her to come over, and even sent the money in advance while also tripling the amount. He was vulnerable, and scared. He needed his fix. He needed comfort.

When he was finally able to escape the stage and was able to home later that night, he half expected for Sugar not to be there. The day had been so draining he had completely forgotten.

His eyes widened when he saw her in his apartment, lying on the couch all comfy. Her breathing soft and her hair in front of her face as she slept.

He quietly sat down his things and took off his shoes and socks. He had already changed out of his performance outfit and was in a baggy hoodie and jeans. He walked over to Sugar, brushing her hair out of her face and even that calmed him down from all of the chaos in his mind.

She had looked so comfortable in his space while she slept. So peaceful. Like she belonged there. He hadn’t realized how attached he had gotten to her until that moment. Her beautiful soft skin and playful hair. Her kind natural beauty and caring nature. It has been a while since he met a girl as innocent and sweet as her and the comfort she brought didn’t make it better.

He blinked out of his trance when he saw her blink, as if sensing his everlasting gaze. Her eyelashes fluttered as she slowly opened her eyes, Taehyung smiling when he saw the familiar pearls.

“Oh, you’re back.” She said she yawned and sat up slightly. “How was filming the.. song?” She asked, sounding so unsure and confused in her half awakened mind.

He chuckled, being aware for some time now that she knew nothing about the idol life or even listened to his music, and it was slightly refreshing.

“It was good, Sugar.” He said, his voice tried and raspy from singing and talking all day. The word coming out as more than a pet name more than it being the name she actually went by.

He picked her up, hands gripping her waist tightly as he easily held her up so he could sit on the couch and set her on his lap. His large hands, so soft and masculine, gripped her thighs tightly, situating them around his hips.

His body relaxed and his eyes closed slightly as he felt her soft figure against his chest as she wrapped her arms around her neck, playing with the back of his hair.

“Thank you.” He said breathlessly, eyes still closed as he relaxed and let himself feel her soothing touch. “You’re too good for me.”

”Are you okay?”

He didn’t except to hear her voice, considering she just woke up and that speaking to him wasn’t mandatory or anything. Her voice was as soft as ever, extra quiet from the sleepiness.

Fuck, he was getting attached. He was being too vulnerable, it was getting too intimate. To real.

She was paid to do this. To act caring and sweet so he could keep coming back and she could keep getting money. But God, it felt real now. Much more real than the first few months.

He tensed for a minute, his heart telling him to spill out everything but his brain winning, like most days. “I’m fine, Sugar.” He assured, his hand moving to her hair, gently stroking it. There was a moment where he considered actually telling her about his day, but the thought of it made his chest tighten. He didn't want to burden her with his problems, wanting her to stay shielded to the harsh reality of his life and riches.

"It's just been a long day, and I'm not used to things being this way." He admitted, his voice a bit more strained than normal. It was silent for a minute before he spoke again, not knowing why. “Thank you, for being here.”

“I’ll always be here for you..” she replied softly, looking up at him as she laid her head on his shoulder. “It’s nice here.”

He smirked, a small genuine smile played on his lips before letting out a chuckle. “Is it?” His eyes flickered away from her and to the idle big tv screen.

“I was watching you.” Her voice came through as he looked down at her once more. “Your music video, I mean.” She corrected herself with an awkward chuckle.

“Oh.” Taehyung didn’t know how to feel about it. Of course he was proud of his music, but slightly nervous for her opinion. “What’d you think?”

“It was.. beautiful.” She said, her eyes sparkling as their eyes met. “It was slow and sentimental..” his face reddened as she continued, the words making him antsy.

“I loved it. And you looked all dolled up and cute.” She giggled as she thought back on it. “I’ve never seen you like that.”

“What you look at me differently now? You see me as the big popstar like else everyone does?” He said, trying to play it off as a joke even though he was actually wondering.

“No.. still just Taehyung. My friend.” She said with a smile and his chest tightened slightly as reality set in.

No matter how many nights they’d spent on the phone, no matter how many ranted texts he sent.. No matter how many late nights and cuddles. They were friends, paid friends at that.

He was delusional for thinking it wasn’t anything else other than a girl taking care of her client in order for him to keep coming back later and get more money. Even knowing this—

“You wanna.. stay the night?” I’ll pay you extra.

He wants to say, but maybe if he didn’t bring it up she’d forget that that’s what she was there for. For money, not him..

“Sure!” She said excitedly, making his heart flutter. He hadn’t felt this way in a while. Relaxed and comfortable with someone outside of his group.

She giggled when she saw his almost shocked reaction. “I told you it’s nice here.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at her. “Eh, I’m used to being here.” He gestured to his nice apartment penthouse with the view of the city. Expense brands to cook with and soft nice couches and clothes. He didn’t know why he was trying to act so cool with his grand house when she’d already seen him at his most vulnerable.

He knew from the first few instances that she couldn’t have come from a rich family, judging by her reactions and lack of knowledge with certain gadgets and such. Just looking at the things she did for money, he figured she hadn’t come from the best of the bunch.

“I mean, I already fell asleep on the couch so I might as well sleep there.” She said with a chuckle.

“You don’t want to go to the bedroom with me?”

The words fly out of his mouth before he could even stop himself and he’s surprised by himself. Surprised that he keeps trying to push his luck with this girl. God, he’d given all the hints but couldn’t take one himself.

“I—“ she paused with a nervous chuckle. “Oh wow.” In an effort to get rid of the sudden tension that came over, and to not feel like a creep, he quickly spoke. “I mean— we cuddle anyways. Why not just cuddle each other to sleep. That would help me, don’t you think?”

He felt like an asshole just saying it, but as a miracle would have it, she started to contemplate before shrugging. “Sure, okay!” She said with a small smile.

“Y-You don’t have to! It was a stupid thing to say—“ Taehyung quickly said, sweating as he tried to make it all go away.

“No, no! It’s fine.” She said quickly, the two looking like two teenagers. “I think it’d be good for me too.” She stated and Taehyung softened.

Taehyung turned off all of the lights, taking her hand gently in his as he lead her to his bedroom, a place she’d never been before. There were posters of the group and artwork on the walls. Glimpses of his hobbies scattered around the room.

He took off his hoodie, revealing a plain white shirt underneath before he crawled onto his king sized bed. The quality of it, like everything else he owned, pleasant. She hummed when she laid down next to him, sinking into the mattress as she closed her eyes.

She took a minute to relax before turning on her side and looking at him, who was already staring at her while on his side. The two faced each other, heads on soft pillows with the lights dimmed. “You’re different today..” she muttered her observation softly.

“I know.. that’s why I sent you triple.” He said with a soft chuckle, he knew he would be more clingy, more of a pain. He hoped she was okay with it. That maybe it would become a regular for the two.

“I don’t mind it, Tae-Tae.. It’s peaceful with you.” She said with a soft smile while stroking his hair as Taehyung let out a breath of relief. He had felt the same, at peace. Maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way he did about each other.

He wrapped his arms around her small waist and pulled her closer to him and his heart raced as he took in her features, copying every detail into his brain. She was so beautiful, inside and out. His eyes traced over her face, before landing on her lips. So pretty and pink.

He couldn’t stop himself. He had convinced himself that he would rather try to see if something was there than sit months worrying and dreaming about could have been. So he leaned in closer to her as he licked his lips, and gently pressed his lips onto hers in a soft kiss.

She smiled against it immediately before responding, pushing herself flush against his chest as he tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss. His hand went to her back, gripping it tightly as he held onto her like his life depended on it.

He pulled away after a while, breathless and his heart souring. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while..” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against her face.

“Me too..” she squeaked out, swallowing as she closed her eyes and kissed him again. His eyes closed as he relaxed into the affection, his feelings deep as they drifted off to sleep on each other’s arms.

~~

To his horror, Taehyung woke up alone the next morning. He could smell her candied, sugary scent but she wasn’t there. He could feel her sweet sugary lips still on his from the hours before. But she wasn’t there.

He sat up quickly, looking around and fearing the worst. What if she got lost in the complex? Or some crazy fan took her?

He raced to get his phone to do something, to figure something out. Only to be greeted with a notification that was received an hour ago.

Let’s stay friends. Just for now :)

[cookiesupplier]

Drain the blood out from your veins (nsfw)

pairing: Ricky Olson x Fem!Reader (Chris' Sister)

Summary: Vampire Ricky, back from tour with the band, continues his sexual relationship with Chris' little sister without her brother knowing.

cw: SMUT 18+ Minors DNI, established relationship, Dom/Sub leanings, blood, masturbation, vaginal fingering.

author note: unbetaed, readers beware lol, bit of an anon request so I hope you enjoy!

tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @lyschko666 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @bngurngheart @faceless-mirror

Tags are open for future fics, please let me know if you'd like to be added to my general list.

Ricky was strung out, and he just wanted to go home, sink his teeth into a feeder and gorge his fill. Living off donated blood bags while they were on tour was the most disgusting, and vile feeling in the entire damn world. The sacrifices he made for Chris. Sometimes, if he was lucky when he could, he could pull up one of the feeder chat rooms for the town they were in on an off-day and see if anyone was offering, with a non-disclosure agreement of course. It wasn’t that their fans didn’t know he was a vampire, they did, and they were very aware, but it was highly discouraged for any of them to throw themselves at him offering up their blood.

One too many times had he gotten vials of blood sent in the mail from devoted fans, offering him a taste in hopes that he might want to come and drink from them, personally. So it was made known that he wouldn’t. It was ridiculous really, the worst ones, the blood was turned and rotted by the time it got to him, and at best they remembered to preserve it for transport in the vial, and he knew, it would taste like nothing but the chemicals that had been used to do so if he even tasted a drop. He didn’t, why would he? That kind of obsession was not something he was ever going to touch.

Anyone he drank from that was not a dedicated personal feeder at home, signed a NDA.

There was one exception to the rule for Rick. One person he’d fed from in the past that was neither technically a personal feeder nor he had ever asked to sign an NDA.

He knew she wouldn’t say anything. He knew she wouldn’t tell a soul.

Her neck would be on the line as much as his, and not because of the fans, but because of her brother.

Y/N was Chris’ little sister.

Admitted, Chris would forgive her, he’d never forgive Rick. There was no way in hell that he’d forgive Rick for touching his little sister.

Half-sister technically, but sister just the same, and Ricky, couldn’t get her out of his system, and it would seem, she was no better with the way her eyes had been on him the moment he’d entered the bar with her brother, but they’d switched quickly over to Chris the moment he’d called y/n, a smile immediately flashing across her features for her brother as she ran over and threw herself into his arms. She’d not seen him in weeks, Ricky didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on him around his side as she hugged her brother.

They’d just gotten home from another stint on tour, and they would be home for a little bit, planning to work on some more music, and Ricky himself was strained from living of months off of blood bags. Sure, it might have been weeks since they’d been home, but months on tours, and barely a good bite here and there if he was lucky? He had thought about hiring a personal feeder for long tours, but the last time he tried, it give an intensely wrong impression, and she’d just gotten so attached when he got home.

He didn’t want that.

Especially when, when he was at home, he had other preferences in mind.

Ricky knew he shouldn’t, but Y/N was always on his mind.. Chris would kill him if he knew about the way he thought about his little sister, the things he thought about her.

He was not, well, there had been a time when he was not the most upstanding vampire there was. Chris wanting him to stay away from his little sister wasn’t without reason.. But did he listen? No.

Did she listen? No.

He did try to stay away from her at the bar, at least, he did try. Knowing that Chris was out the front with the other guys however, laughing, talking, with the chatter of all the other people the only noise that was keeping them hidden, it was just too tempting.. What she looked at him across the room while Chris was busy, her eyes meeting right before she slipped away, he smirked..

Following after a moment.. Throwing back his drink, before slipping right into the women’s bathroom, flicking the lock behind him.. It was easy to tell she was the only one in there, only one heartbeat.. Only one, hers.

Y/N was washing her hands in the basin, facing the mirror and Ricky’s already stormy blue eyes darkened at the sight of her in the reflection, moving behind her in a second, his arms either side of her on the counter, framing her in.

“Did you do what you were told?”

Breathing in her scent up the side of her neck slowly, god, she smelled divine, but that wasn’t the scent that he wanted just yet..

“Yes, Daddy.”

Smirking.. He’d given her very specific instructions of what she was supposed to do before she was to come tonight.. Admittedly, it was supposed to be for a treat for after, but he was impatient, and she was just being so alluring tonight, how could he resist. Not to mention, the mere thought of finding out if she’d behaved and actually done what he told her to, well, it was far too tempting.

“Mmmmm, I don’t know.. Maybe I should find out for myself.. What do you think, BabyGirl.. Should I?”

One of his hands was running up the insides of her legs, his fingers stroking up the bare skin of her thigh, she got that part right to start with,

“No tights, good girl.”

His voice a rasp as he smirked when he saw her face flush warm in the mirror, then as her fingers press harder to the counter in front of her, feeling the way she tried so hard not to squirm but her hips still shifted back against him ever so slightly. Tsking, he tilted his head forward to nip at the side of her neck with his blunt human teeth,

“Stay still.”

A whimper escaped her as his hand continued to travel up.. Until he came to the juncture of her thighs, and his fingers brushed along the lips of her pussy.. She was so wet already and she she whimpered when he denied her more, his hand slipping out from under her dress and lifting to lick the arousal from the very tips of his fingers.. A whine escaped her throat as she watched him in the reflection..

“Such a good girl.. How many did you have up there before you came inside?”

He told her.. She was to finger herself in the car before coming in, but not to cum, if she did, she would be allowed to again all night, and he wouldn’t touch her again, not once, before the next tour.. One orgasm for the price of many? That would be a no-brainer..

“Three, Daddy, please.. I’ll do anything you want. I need to cum so bad.”

Her thighs pressed together and he grinned at her in the reflection.

“Anything?”

She nodded eagerly to him.. He stepped back and patted the counter, up on the counter, face me.. All too eager, she didn’t even need to question him before she was hitching up her dress around her hips and was pulling her tiny frame up onto the counter. How she was Chris’ sister was beyond him, her miniature to Chris’ giant, but she was just a perfect size for Rick.. and fuck if he got his fill every time.

As much as he wanted to fuck her right now, and damn did he want to, it was too messy a clean up, and getting caught by Chris because y/n had his cum dripping down her thigh in the middle of the bar, really wasn’t on his agenda tonight.. That could wait until he got her back to her his apartment and he could take her apart properly. Have her come apart screaming on his cock.. He had another hunger to satisfy now.

Down on his knees before her, her his hands spreading her thighs wide, glancing up to her,

“You don’t cum unless I give you permission, and after I’ve had plenty to drink, understand?”

A whimper escaped her, but she nodded quickly, she knew what was coming, and it wasn’t the bite that was going to be the hard part ti endure, Ricky always like to push her right to the very edge of pleasure and pain.. That was the best part between them, while he fed.. Feeling her body shake under the assault of his fingers, his cock.. Whatever he was doing to her at the time..

His tongue traced up along the skin of her groin of her femoral artery, his favourite place to drink, and the most covert.. Who thought to look for bite marks there. Not to mention, Chris would notice if his sister suddenly started walking around with neck scarves all the time. As his fangs sank into her flesh, her blood pooling delicately onto his tongue, he was careful how he drank, clean, his thumb was rubbing over her clit, drawing a moan from her as two of his fingers pressed into her cunt.. Just as she had been earlier.

Oh, her blood was like pure nirvana on his tongue, she was always absolute perfection, nothing tasted like y/n.. Not her blood, or her pretty perfect pussy. He didn’t know which he liked better if he was being truthful, he could spend all day between her legs in one manner or another, his face covered in her, and he would be a happy man.. Already very dead, but a happy, happy man.

His fingers pumped inside of her as his thumb worked circles over the numb of her clit as her warm blood ran down his throat with each swallow he took. His tongue swirled at her skin with each pull from her vein and fuck.. but then he flicked at the sensitive nerves of her clit a bit hard when she started to squirm with a groan. Lifting his mouth from her skin with a gasp,

“Y/N,”

His voice holding a commanding rasp, looking down at him, her eyes met his with a whimper, her thighs shaking as she held them wide for him,

“You are being such a good girl. Now stay still. I’ve almost had my fill.”

He could have let her cum then, he could have, but he wanted to see how much longer she could last, he loved watching to see how far he could push her, see her walk to the very edge until she couldn’t take anymore.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Her thighs pushed a little wider as she pushed herself to satisfy him, there we go, he knew she could do it, such a good girl. A lick of his tongue over the bite before his mouth returned to her beautiful silken skin and drew another pull of her blood. This time it earned a moan from her, he savoured not only the taste of her as her blood pulsed hot, running down his throat so perfectly, but the way she reached for him next.. Her fingers threading into his hair, pressing her fingertips against his scalp as she whimpered.

“Daddy, Daddy, please, I need to cum.”

She was close, so close, he could feel her thighs trembling as she fought to hold them,

“Please!”

The way she pleaded was utter perfection and with a last flick of his tongue, pressing it down hard enough to put pressure on the puncture to stem the flow of blood and seal the wound. Then as he stood up between her legs, his fingers that were buried deep in her cunt, curled to rub at her g-spot as he flicked at her clit as his lips came to hers, fangs scraping at her lips as she moaned,

“Cum for me BabyGirl, cum for Daddy like a good girl.”

All she needed was that little push over the edge, and she was falling. Her shriek as she orgasm smothered by his kiss, no, no they couldn’t let anyone outside here, No Chris, not any of the band, or the crew.. They might come find out what was happening, and find the locked door.. Best they didn’t investigate. Kissing her while he fucked her with his fingers through her orgasm, her whole body trembling with delight as she grasped onto him, panting against him as she did… he grinned when he finally started to hear her heartbeat slowly come down, her eyes starting to come back into focus..

“I’ve missed being able to make you fucking scream properly.”

If Chris killed him when he found out, so be it.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Hello)) Blame this on my grandma, I watched too many soap operas with her growing and we still do it 😂

So basically 2022 James x younger reader maybe she was his sponsor after he got out of rehab after 2019 relapse and she stayed him him during the pandemic (let’s pretend he divorced earlier than 2022, im not a home wrecker) and obviously it evolved into romance. Since he got vasectomy, they kinda weren’t very careful with protection, but it’s actually proven that these can fail, so she finds out she’s pregnant. Of course he doesn’t believe her and thinks she cheated and demands a DNA test. Having no options and feeling betrayed by his behavior, she moves out and they do a tests a few months later. Of course it comes back confirming he’s the father, but she also sends him something like NDA saying that she will never file for child support and will not disclose him as the father + the note that she doesn’t want to do anything with him as he betrayed her by accusing her of cheating. So the moment they have a break in tour he comes to beg for forgiveness? It takes her a while but she finds the strength to forgive him? And then she even joins them on tour and even goes to labour at the end of one of their shows (that’s actually happened with one of the fans)

Damn those TV shows did make sure my fantasies run wild 🫢

Don’t worry, how many times watching a series I made a lot of mental films (and it’s better not to know them🤭) I hope you will like it!❤

A New Beginning

I could still hear the echo of the accusations in my head, ringing louder than the sound of the tour buses or the distant crowds that gathered for Metallica’s show tonight. “You cheated, didn’t you? You couldn’t have gotten pregnant by me… it’s impossible!”

I closed my eyes, trying to suppress the flood of hurt that still rose in my chest every time I thought about it. I’d never cheated, never given him a reason to doubt me. I had stood by him through his darkest moments, through rehab, through the pandemic lockdowns when the world felt like it was falling apart. I gave him my heart, my love, my everything. And in return, he gave me distrust.

The memory of how we met flickered in my mind like an old film reel—those early days, before the weight of fame and fear crushed us under its heel.

I had been his sponsor after his 2019 relapse. A fresh face among the older, battle-worn members of the program, I hadn’t expected to be assigned to someone like James. I still remember that first meeting—how he slouched into the room, the weight of the world on his shoulders, his eyes distant, almost lifeless. His tattoos were visible beneath the sleeve of his worn-out leather jacket, and his hands trembled slightly as he held a paper cup of coffee, more like a shield than a drink.

He was a legend, a rock god, someone I had grown up listening to, but none of that mattered in that room. There, he was just another man struggling to find his way back from the brink.

I had introduced myself, unsure of how someone like me could even begin to help someone like him. But as the days passed, we found an unexpected rhythm. He was raw, real, and unfiltered, and I wasn’t afraid to call him out on his bullshit when he tried to downplay his struggles.

“You’re not invincible, you know,” I had told him once during one of our private sessions, my arms crossed as I stared at him down. He had tried to laugh it off, but I didn’t let him. “You might be James Hetfield to the world, but in here? You’re just another person trying to get better. And if you want this to work, you’re going to have to face the hard stuff.”

To my surprise, instead of pushing back, he had listened. Really listened. And slowly, over time, the walls he had built around himself started to crumble. We spent hours talking, not just about his addiction, but about life, music, and everything in between. I saw glimpses of the man beneath the rock star, the man who had been buried under years of fame and pressure.

The pandemic hit not long after, and somehow, through all the uncertainty and isolation, we grew closer. What started as a professional relationship morphed into something else—something deeper, more intimate. The nights were long, filled with shared stories and quiet moments where it felt like we were the only two people left in the world. And somewhere in the midst of it all, I fell in love with him.

He was still broken in so many ways, but I loved him for it. I thought I could help him heal. I thought I could be the one to put him back together.

But I hadn’t expected him to break me in the process.

Now, months later, here I was, sitting alone in the apartment I had moved into after his betrayal. The DNA test had proved him wrong, of course. The baby was his. But that didn’t matter. Not anymore.

I absentmindedly placed a hand on my growing belly, feeling the flutter of movement beneath my fingertips. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. He knew now, without a doubt, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about what he thought. I had sent him the NDA weeks ago, making it clear I didn’t want anything from him. No child support. No public acknowledgment. Nothing. It was his choice to betray me, to accuse me of something so vile, and I would never forget that.

A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. I hesitated for a moment, not expecting anyone. Slowly, I stood, heart racing for reasons I couldn’t quite place, and opened the door.

It was him.

James stood there, looking more worn out than I had ever seen him. His eyes were puffy, as if he hadn’t slept well for days, and his shoulders were hunched, weighed down by regret. His gaze met mine, and for the first time in months, I saw something I hadn’t expected—tears. He blinked them away quickly, but not before one slid down his cheek.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, keeping my voice steady even though my emotions were anything but.

He shifted nervously, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. “Can I come in?”

I wanted to slam the door in his face. I wanted to tell him to leave and never come back, but a part of me—a small, treacherous part—still longed for the man I had once loved, the man I had thought he was before everything went to hell. So, against my better judgment, I stepped aside and let him in.

The silence that settled between us was heavy, oppressive. I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for him to speak, to explain why he was here after everything he had done.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice rough and low. “I’m so sorry.”

I didn’t respond. What was there to say? Sorry wasn’t going to erase the hurt or make up for the months of pain I’d gone through because of his accusations.

“I was scared,” he continued, taking a hesitant step toward me. “I didn’t want to believe it because… I didn’t think I deserved it. You, the baby… any of it. I thought it was too good to be true, and I freaked out. I messed up. I know I did.”

“Damn right, you did,” I snapped, my emotions finally bubbling over. “I gave you everything, James. I stood by you when no one else did, and the second I needed you, you turned your back on me. You accused me of cheating—like I was some random groupie. Do you have any idea how that felt?”

His eyes dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I know. I know, and I hate myself for it. I was wrong. You didn’t deserve that.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

He looked up at me, his eyes brimming with emotion. “I want to make things right. I can’t take back what I said, but I want to be there for you—for the baby. Please… I can’t lose you.”

For a long moment, I just stared at him, the weight of his words hanging in the air. His lips trembled, his hands shaking as they reached out for me, and that’s when I saw it—more tears. They fell silently, streaking down his face, and it shook me to my core. James Hetfield, the man who never showed vulnerability, was standing in front of me, broken and pleading.

“You already lost me,” I whispered, feeling my heart crack all over again. “The moment you accused me, you lost me.”

He took another step closer, his hands reaching for mine but stopping short when I didn’t move. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that I’m sorry, that I love you.”

I blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over, torn between the love I still felt for him and the pain he had caused. “It’s not that simple.”

“I know,” he said softly, his voice breaking. “But I’m not giving up. I’m going to fight for you, for us. I love you. I always have.”

The vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion, broke something in me. For the first time in months, I saw the man I had fallen in love with, the man who had been buried beneath his fears and insecurities.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

James nodded, his eyes glistening. “I’ll earn it back. I promise.”

We stood there, both of us broken and scarred, but maybe—just maybe—there was a chance to heal. I wasn’t ready to forgive him, not yet. But as I looked into his eyes, I realized I wasn’t ready to walk away either.

___________________________________________________________

Months had passed since that heart-wrenching conversation, and though the pain hadn’t entirely vanished, we had started to rebuild—piece by fragile piece. James and I had taken things slow. He had apologized countless times, not only with words but with his actions, showing up for every doctor’s appointment, staying by my side during the hardest days of pregnancy, and fighting to earn back the trust he had shattered.

By the time the band’s tour kicked off, I had grown more comfortable with the idea of us—tentatively agreeing to join him for a few weeks. There was something cathartic about seeing him on stage, in his element, pouring his heart into the music. It was the same passion I had fallen for, the raw energy that made him who he was.

That night, the crowd roared as the band played their set. I stood backstage, watching James from behind the curtain. The energy of the performance was electrifying, but as the night wore on, I felt an unusual pressure in my belly. It started out mild, but soon a sharp pain gripped me. I pressed a hand to my stomach, my breathing becoming shallow.

I knew what it was. The baby was coming.

Another wave of pain surged, and I leaned against the wall, trying to steady myself, but it was no use. My knees buckled slightly, and panic flared in my chest. No, not now, not during the concert!

I winced, unable to call out over the blaring music and the chaos of the backstage area. The crew was bustling around, completely unaware of my situation. My vision blurred, but I managed to catch the eye of a stagehand nearby, my voice barely a whisper as I gasped, “Get… James…”

Her eyes widened in alarm when she saw the state I was in. Without hesitation, she rushed off, navigating through the flurry of activity until she reached the side of the stage. She tapped on the shoulder of the band’s tour manager, urgently pointing toward me, and within moments, a message was relayed to James over the in-ear monitors.

It didn’t take long. Within seconds, James glanced toward the side of the stage, his expression shifting from focused to alarmed. The guitar in his hands stilled mid-song, and the rest of the band kept playing as he tore off his in-ear monitors, rushing offstage toward me.

By the time he reached me, another contraction hit. I was clutching my stomach, struggling to breathe.

“The baby’s coming,” I managed to say between breaths, my voice weak. “Now.”

James’ face went pale. “Oh God, okay, okay… we need to get you to the hospital.”

He quickly helped me up, supporting me as I leaned on him, and together we moved through the maze of equipment and crew members. The sirens wailed in the distance as we made our way to the ambulance parked outside.

Once inside, James squeezed my hand tightly, his brow furrowed in worry. “You’re going to be okay. I’m right here,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, but I could hear the tremor beneath it.

The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity, each contraction more intense than the last. James stayed focused on me, whispering encouraging words, but I could see the tears welling up in his eyes.

Finally, we arrived at the hospital, and I was rushed into the delivery room. The world outside faded as I focused on the task at hand, the pain consuming me but accompanied by James' steady presence.

 

After what felt like hours, the moment finally arrived. The cries of our baby filled the room, and I looked at James, who stood by my side, tears streaming down his face.

 James leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead, the weight of the past finally began to lift. The room was filled with the soft coos of our newborn daughter, and in that moment, I felt a warmth spreading through me—a mixture of hope and love that I had thought lost forever.

“Can you believe we made her?” James asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he glanced down at our daughter, who was peacefully nestled in my arms.

I smiled, my heart swelling with emotion. “She’s perfect.”

“Just like her mom,” he said, looking back at me with eyes full of adoration. There was a sincerity in his gaze that sent shivers down my spine, a reminder of everything we had been through together.

He gently reached for our daughter, and I carefully transferred her into his arms. The moment our baby was in his embrace, his expression softened, transforming into one of sheer wonder. He gazed down at her as if he had just been handed the greatest treasure in the world.

“Look at her,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “She has your smile.”

I watched as James became utterly enchanted, rocking her softly as if to soothe a restless heart. “But those eyes,” he continued, his breath catching in his throat, “she has my eyes.”

I leaned closer, gazing at our daughter, and my heart swelled with love as I saw the truth in his words. “You’re right. She has your eyes,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “And your spirit, I can tell already.”

James grinned, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I can’t believe I get to be her dad,” he said, emotion pouring from him. “I promise to always be here for you, for both of you. I want to build a future—a real future—with you.”

A thrill of excitement raced through me. “Really? You mean that?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, looking up at me, his gaze steady and sincere. “I’ve learned so much about myself, about us. I won’t let fear or mistakes dictate our lives anymore. I want to be a family, to share every moment with you.”

As he continued to cradle our daughter, a soft smile spread across his face. “I can’t wait to teach her about music, to show her the world,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “I want to be the dad who’s always there, who shows up to every recital, every birthday. I want her to know she’s loved.”

My heart raced at his words, overwhelmed by the love radiating from him. “I want that too,” I said, feeling tears of joy prick at my eyes. “I want to share everything—the good and the bad.”

James took my hands in his, his grip warm and reassuring. “Then let’s do it together. One step at a time.”

As he leaned in, our foreheads touched, and the world around us faded into a soft blur. In that moment, everything felt right. We were two people, imperfect yet wholly devoted to each other, standing on the brink of a new chapter.

“I love you, James,” I breathed, feeling a sense of peace enveloping me.

“I love you too,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “Always.”

With a renewed sense of hope for our future, we shared a tender kiss, the promise of a beautiful life ahead lingering in the air.

As he continued to cradle our daughter, he looked down at her with a mixture of awe and determination. “You’re going to be so loved,” he said, his voice a gentle whisper. “And we’re going to take care of each other, always.”

Together, we would face whatever came next—hand in hand, heart to heart, as a family.

[blushweddinggowns]

Chrissy woke up in Robin’s arms a few hours later, rested but disoriented. There was an odd sound she couldn’t place, a jingle that her morning-sleepiness wouldn’t let her focus on. 

The music was still playing in the background, a constant loop. She looked around, relieved that everyone was still there. Nancy was curled onto her side with Max laid out at the very end of the bed. Steve and Eddie were laying on top of each other on the couch, while Dustin snored in the chair. 

She wasn’t sure what woke her up, not until she realized that tinkling was the sound of keys in the door, followed by it slamming open.

“I hate that damn door,” She heard a gruff voice say under his breath. 

Chrissy popped her head up, her eyes widening when Eddie’s uncle stepped inside. He stopped, a loud sigh escaping as he looked around the room. His eyes zeroed right onto Eddie and Steve on the couch, Eddie still peacefully asleep on Steve’s chest. 

He didn’t even look surprised. Just vaguely annoyed. 

Chrissy watched as he walked over, nudging them both until they started grumbling. Steve came to first, rubbing his eyes before looking up at Wayne with a very guilty look on his face. 

He shook Eddie with him, waking him just in time to hear it when Wayne sighed, “Boys, why are all of these people in our house?”

They looked at each other, another silent conversation raging on until Steve nodded. 

Eddie rolled off of him, landing on his feet as he looked at Wayne, “We have something to tell you. And… you’re probably going to want to sit down for it.”

The rest of the group was starting to wake now, everyone coming to consciousness from the noise. But Wayne listened. He sat on the couch, obviously confused as Steve shook Nancy awake. He whispered a few words into her ear, her eyes going from sleepy to focused in record time. 

She nodded, “You’re right. He deserves to know.”

“Will someone please explain what the hell you’re talking about?” Wayne finally snapped, “I’m getting off a ten-hour shift here.”

“I know, I know,” Eddie sighed as he sat next to him, “But you’re gonna want to hear this. Nancy, go.”

And go she went, explaining the same tale that Chrissy got, but with none of the circumstances to force her to believe it. 

By the end of it, Wayne had his head in his hands, groaning as everyone chimed in about their corroborating stories. 

He was struggling to believe it, they could all tell. Chrissy couldn’t blame him. She was still struggling, despite the fact that her life was on the line.

He finally looked up, his eyes zeroing in on Steve and Eddie. 

“So you’re saying, that day you two came home beaten and bloodied wasn’t a fight? You almost died fighting monsters. That’s what you’re telling me?”

“I-It technically was a fight-” Steve tried.

“Have you or have you not, been risking your lives for the past four years dealing with supernatural shit? Yes or no, Steven?” Wayne interrupted. 

It was enough to snap Steve’s mouth shut. Chrissy was pretty sure she’d never seen him look chastised before, but here he was. Steve nodded, nearly hiding behind Eddie as Wayne groaned. 

“W-We had to sign NDAs!” Eddie tried, “We would have told you but we didn’t think-”

“What? You thought it would be better for me to find out my kids died through some shady government agency? Do you even know how insane all of the shit you just said was! I- how do you expect me to react?!”

It worked just as well with Eddie as it did with Steve. He snapped his mouth back closed, thoroughly reprimanded.

“We’re sorry,” Steve mumbled out, oddly child-like. Almost as though he was getting scolded by his father instead of his friend’s uncle.

“Steve, I don’t want to hear it,” Wayne said, “Because neither of you are going to stop, are you? Not when that girl’s life is on the line.”

They both shook their heads and it was enough to have Wayne groaning again. 

 “I don’t want to believe you,” Wayne finally said, “I haven’t heard anything like this since I was a kid. Boys, this is just too damn much!”

“Wait, what?” Nancy asked, her soft voice ignored as Eddie jumped in. 

“But it’s true! I swear it is! Think of all the weird shit that happens here, Wayne. A kid came back from the dead. You know this town is messed up!”

Steve was still going for a more meek approach, “Are you really that mad?”

“You’re damn right I’m mad!” Wayne snapped again, “The two of you have been risking your lives for - I don’t even know! Why would you-”

“No, wait,” Nancy interrupted, firm enough to get all eyes back on her, “What did you say before? The thing about when you were a kid?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Wayne said with a wave of the hand, “Just old ghost stories.”

“But what ghost stories?” 

Wayne shrugged, “Just… something crazy. It doesn’t matter.”

“But what if it does?” Nancy pressed, “What happened to Will is probably known as a ghost story around here now, and it was at the center of everything. We have no reason to think whatever this is started with him. What if it started before?”

“She’s right,” Dustin chimed in, “What happened when you were a kid?”

Wayne sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he spoke, “There was a man who lived on the other side of town, in that abandoned house with the stained glass. Killed his whole family. Snapped all their limbs apart like some kind of monster. They never even explained how he managed it, let alone what he did to his son. They never found his body. But he was insane not magic. He sewed his own eyes shut after, never admitting to what he did. Victor Creel doesn’t have anything to do with my kids being stupid-”

“That was his name?” Nancy interrupted, “Victor Creel? What happened to him?”

“I think he’s still at the asylum,” Wayne said, “He got a plea deal, because he was off his damn rocker. Haven’t heard anything about him since.”

 Nancy turned to Chrissy, her brow raised, “Does the stained glass ring any bells?”

Chrissy blinked at her, “I-maybe?”

from the next chapter of this fic

[muddy-water-1997]

𝖠𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖡𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗍𝗌

𝖳𝖶: 𝖧𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝗑𝗂𝖾𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖠𝖳𝖯

Chapter 5 - The Fallout

The day after the previous night's events, you wake up with a throbbing headache that reminds you of the embarrassing episode in front of Felix. You cringe at the thought of Changbin's rudeness, Bangchan's insistence on getting you NDAs to sign, and the cryptic conversation between Han and Lee Know. You take a deep breath and try to shake off the unpleasant memories. You tell yourself that yesterday was yesterday, and today is a new day. Convincing yourself that you only went to a concert, had a drink with your friend, and then retired to your hotel room to sleep. Nothing else happened. You glance over to your friend's bed, but she's not there. Instead, you find a note on her pillow.

"Gone to get coffee - water in the fridge - xoxo."

You feel lucky that your friend is still around after the embarrassment you caused her last night. You savour the silence in your room and reach for your phone, only to find it in pieces. Reluctantly, you leave bed and head to the mini-fridge to get the water your friend left for you. She's leaving today to return to her hometown, but you're fortunate enough to live only half an hour away since you moved here for work.

"Hey, I'm back!" your friend announces as she enters the room, interrupting your train of thought. You wave at her while sipping water, hoping to start the day afresh. "There was a package for you at the reception. Did you order something this morning?" she asks, handing you the box.

"Oh, it's probably the gloves I ordered for my outfit last night." you say, shaking the box gently, which feels heavier than expected.

"If it's new laces for your shoes, they might have saved you from the debacle last night," she jokes, and you grimace but ignore it.

You open the package, wondering why gloves weigh so much. However, when you pull back the tissue paper inside, you stop short, stunned. "It's a phone?"

"A phone?" your friend echoes incredulously.

"A phone," you confirm, still in disbelief, as you slowly extract the device from the box.

To your surprise, there's a note attached to it.

"I'm sorry for how we all acted yesterday. Consider this an apology - BC."

You stare at the note in confusion. BC? Bangchan? Apologising? You need help understanding how he tracked you down at your hotel. Did the receptionist give away your information? You can't help but feel uneasy about the potential breach of confidentiality. But then again, he is Bangchan, so anything is possible. 

You pass the note to your friend, hoping she can understand it. "I think he's apologising," she says uncertainly. You can feel the weight of her gaze on you as she waits for your response. 

"Wasn't I the asshole yesterday?" you ask in sincerity. 

She shakes her head. "You were drunk, not an asshole. If anyone was being an asshole, it was Bin and Chan. There was no need for them to be so rude to us." Your friend places the note on the bed and watches as you power on your phone, hoping to distract yourself from the situation. 

You grab the SIM card from your old, shattered phone and slot it into the new one. The phone lights up, and you breathe a sigh of relief. At least one thing is going right today.

As you said goodbye to your friend outside the hotel, you couldn't help but envy her. She had a long drive ahead, but at least she was heading home. On the other hand, you were returning to your new apartment on the outskirts of town - a lonely half-hour taxi ride away from the hustle and bustle of the central city.

As you settled into the backseat of the taxi, your mind began to wander. You thought back to the previous night when you had been driven out of the city for at least half an hour to get to the Hilton. You were still getting used to your new surroundings, and it felt strange to be so far away from everything you knew.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar chime from your phone. It was your business partner, Claire. She apologised for the short notice but explained that she had fallen ill and couldn't attend a client lunch. She asked if you could fill in for her, and you reluctantly agreed.

You arrived back at your apartment just long enough to change into your emergency work meeting outfit before jumping into another car sent by Claire. As you rode to the lunch, you couldn't help but feel grateful for your job - it had its challenges, but it also afforded you many opportunities to meet interesting people and explore new places. And, of course, there was always the promise of overtime pay to sweeten the deal.

As you embark on the journey to an unknown location, you put on makeup to look your best. You carefully applied mascara on your lashes, put some red lipstick on your freshly exfoliated lips, and wore your favourite black lacquer heels that perfectly complemented your outfit. You always referred to it as the 'Deal Closer' look, as it had a charm irresistible to the right clientele. Though you had no clue who you would meet, you were confident you would make a great impression.

As you gazed out the window, the scenery seemed oddly familiar, and you couldn't shake the feeling of deja vu. The trees and the paths looked identical to some you had seen before. Your phone beeped as you were lost in thought, indicating a new message. It was Claire, and she had finally sent you the client file, but not without a touch of her flirtatious humour. Knowing her, you could bet that the client was a man. She had a habit of treating business meetings like dating sites.

You opened the message, and your heart sank as you read the location of the meeting - The Hilton.

Shit.

As you tentatively enter the familiar gold and cream foyer, you realise that the flowers have changed. You approach the front desk and are surprised to see one of the women from the previous night. You couldn't help but wonder if she should still be at work at this hour. You hoped the eight men you had met the previous night had gone out and wouldn't be in the building. You can't afford any distractions when trying to close a business deal.

The woman at the front desk greets you loudly, calling out your name, and you quickly hush her, hoping to avoid any unwanted attention. You introduce yourself and let her know you're here for a business lunch on Claire's behalf. The woman nods and checks her system, confirming that your client is already waiting for you in the meeting room. She offers drinks, and you eagerly nod, feeling like you could murder a coffee.

You quickly grab your phone to let Claire know you have arrived and you'll be getting things underway shortly. However, before you can even text, you feel someone's gaze fixated on you from the top of the stairs. You count down from three before looking up, and as you expected, it's Bangchan. He shoots you a look, a mix of confusion, friendliness, and something you couldn't reasonably interpret. He winks once in your direction and walks away across the top of the stairs and into one of the corridors.

You take a moment to look around, trying to find who Bangchan had just winked at, wondering if it was you. You feel a tinge of curiosity and confusion but quickly shake it off, reminding yourself to focus on the task.

As you try to maintain your composure and confidence, you approach the glass meeting room adjacent to the hotel foyer. Upon entering, you greet the older gentleman and introduce yourself before offering him a drink, which he refuses. You sense he's using it as a power move, but you remain focused on presenting hard facts and sealing the business deal. 

However, your phone starts buzzing less than five minutes into your presentation. Assuming it's just Claire checking in, you ignore it and continue. But the buzzing persists, interrupting your flow, and the gentleman asks if you need to attend to the matter. You apologise and quickly excuse yourself to check your phone.

New text: ‘I know you saw me- BC’

New text:‘Y/N: I think Chris is looking for you- LF.’

New text:‘You can’t just move your phone and ignore me- BC.’

New text:‘The meeting room is made of glass, y/n- BC.’

New text:‘Who’s number is this, and why is it on my phone? - KS.’

You stare at your phone in disbelief. What the hell was happening?

NEXT CHAPTER

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾? 𝖳𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾! 𝖬𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝖻𝗈𝗑 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌! 

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖣𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝗋 𝖣𝖬!

[thepixelelf]

and the universe said,

05 “trust no one”

genres/tags: soulmate au, idol au, comedy, romance, dumbassery relationship(s): ot13 x reader chapter warnings: language. note: sorry for not updating in a while <3 it will happen again <3

When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren’t – and that’s before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.

series masterlist

prev ⭒ chapter five (3.2k) ⭒ next

You walk out of the interview room with your shoulders straight, your stride smooth and confident, and your chin held high.

Then you leave the building, and your “I got this” persona drops like an ice cream scoop on hot pavement. You don’t show any outward signs of your turmoil because there are people around, but in your head, you’re screaming.

If there’s one thing to make you feel the tiniest bit better, it’s the fact that you’re now wearing short sleeves on such a nice day. After the coffee spilling debacle not even an hour ago, you’d luckily been able to run into a random clothing shop that was between the cafe and where you had your interview. The clerk probably thought you were crazy for grabbing the first thing off a rack which might fit you and buying it within a minute of walking through the door, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. It was either that, or go to your interview drenched in cold brew.

The downside of the short sleeved shirt you’re wearing now, though, was just as expected. You weren’t even done introducing yourself before your soulmate started singing again. For all the staring you’ve undergone since the discovery of the existence of soulmates, the interviewer was relatively apathetic towards your moving mark. You thought maybe she didn’t care — that you’d actually be able to snag a job without being bombarded with questions about a person you haven’t met yet.

And then she asked, “Have you met your soulmate?”

You told her the truth. No, you haven’t met them yet. You didn’t mention how you’re not sure if you even want to right now.

Thoughtfully, she nodded her head and wrote something down on her clipboard. You wondered what she could have possibly needed to write down from that information. “I’ve read that soulmate pulls can negatively effect work performance,” she said, monotone. “Do you have any solutions in mind if that should happen?”

And at that, you just blinked. Of all the interview questions you’d practiced with Heejun, that certainly wasn’t one of them. You hated the way you floundered for more than a few seconds, practically silent while the interviewer waited for your answer.

Damn coffee guy. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t have looked like such an idiot.

Thinking of him again, you sigh and pull out your phone. Right before the interview, you’d swiped away the text you’d sent yourself from his phone, but now you open up the near-empty message thread. 

Maybe you were a little harsh. You were nervous for your interview and panicked when you had to deal with one more thing on top of your stupid soulmark. 

Then again, he did pour an entire fucking coffee on you. So maybe you weren’t harsh enough.

You stare at the message and the unsaved number. If you were a perfect person, an ideal member of society, an utter angel, maybe you’d just live and let live. But that was one of your nicest shirts, and you’re not a perfect person.

So you send him the account you use for e-transfers. Nothing else, just that. If he ghosts you and doesn’t send anything — fine. You won’t harass him. You’ll just complain harder to Heejun later. If he does pay you back, then maybe he’s not an asshole and it really was an accident.

Still, if this costs you another job opportunity…

Shaking the thought away, you sigh and close the messaging app to find the fastest bus route home.

⭒

Boo Seungkwan really thought that when the vocal unit of the band Seventeen was invited for a radio show appearance, they’d be asked about music.

All of the members were advised to keep their marks as hidden as possible — while being subtle about it, of course. Their fans know about the five lines, but the music note part of their marks has remained off camera and unmentioned while the company tries to figure out a plausible explanation to pedal to the public. Seungkwan doesn’t like lying, but he can’t deny that keeping their extra soulmate a secret would probably be best for their privacy. Each member chose to be a part of this life, and with that, chose to lose a certain level of privacy between themselves and the public eye. Their soulmate never signed up for that.

“A lot of your fans have mentioned how unsurprised they were to find out you all were soulmates,” the radio host starts, kicking off yet another question about the phenomenon linking all the members together. Seungkwan has tried to be funny about it — that’s sort of his thing — but the questions are starting to grate at him. “Were you guys surprised at all?”

Jeonghan, somehow taking over most of the questions today and managing to keep calm, has steered a lot of the conversations exactly the way management wants them. He’s doing it so well that Seungkwan is almost suspicious.

“Oh, it was definitely shocking,” he answers with a half chuckle, which earns a polite laugh back from the host. “I mean, I woke up with a brand new tattoo! To be in that situation without any context, then find out all your friends are going through the exact same thing… it was something straight out of the imagination. We were all so confused until we came across news of the phenomenon worldwide.”

Seokmin leans closer to his mic. “The night before, I practiced really late. When I woke up and saw the mark, I thought I’d drawn it and forgot.”

“But you couldn’t draw lines that straight and perfectly spaced apart even if you were awake!” Jeonghan teases.

“Exactly!” Seokmin scoots his chair closer to the table, hands excitedly gripping the armrests. “I thought I unlocked secret artistic talent when I was tired, or something!”

“If you told me you thought that before all this soulmate stuff came to light, I would’ve thought that was way more probable,” Joshua jokes.

The host laughs, but he prods on. “I’m sure waking up with tattoos you don’t remember getting was a surprise, but are any of you surprised that you’re each other’s soulmates? Many fans have always thought of you as soulmates.”

The vocal unit members look at each other, and Seungkwan makes eye contact with Jihoon, who’s been quiet for most of the show, amicably nodding along and smiling at everyone’s jokes. It’s not unusual for him to dial down his presence during interviews, especially when Seungkwan is there to keep everyone entertained. Since Seungkwan has been a bit quieter today, though, (less focused on making jokes and keeping up the atmosphere,) he’s noticed something about Jihoon.

He’s… happy.

And not just “on camera” happy. This bitch is glowing.

Jihoon is honestly not a grumpy guy. Sure, he’s not as outwardly sunshiney as someone like Seokmin or Soonyoung, and sure, he’s not the biggest fan of skinship — or even a fan at all — but he always treats the boys like family. He likes his alone time, but he likes time with them, too. He laughs at everyone’s jokes, and you can always tell when his smile is genuine. 

This smile? There’s more to it than just being plastered on to keep up a good public image.

Something is up.

Jeonghan is the one to break the short silence. “I’ve said this before, but the members of Seventeen are my best friends. Most people are lucky to have one or two best friends, but I get to say that about 12 people I love.” He looks around the table, smiling softly at each of the members present. “So, no. I’m not surprised at all.”

Seungkwan can almost hear the fangirls screaming in the distance at Jeonghan’s sweet, sweet lie.

He peeks down at his right hand, which he’s kept under the table for most of the show, and recalls how the notes had appeared while they were in the car waiting for Jihoon to come back from the cafe. His eyes had widened, and he watched his mark with rapt attention while Seokmin did the same, trying to hum along to the notes but not quite getting there. Jeonghan just held his hands on his lap, smiling down at the mark as his left thumb rubbed over it. None of them had really paid attention to the way Joshua just kept scrolling through his phone, not noticing the music notes at all.

Seungkwan totally forgot to ask Jihoon if he saw the mark move. Would that have anything to do with him coming out sans food?

Seokmin quickly recovers from Jeonghan’s answer, playfully pushing at his shoulder. “Wahhh, so sappy, hyung!”

Laughing, Jeonghan pushes Seokmin back. “You’re right, Seokmin. The universe must’ve made a terrible mistake— none of you brats deserve my love!”

Everyone laughs, Seungkwan joining in once he realizes he should, and the host flips a page on his script. “Ah, you all seem so close. It’s no wonder you are platonic soulmates.”

At the word ‘soulmates’, Jihoon smiles again, a little wider as he looks down at his lap. Seungkwan can’t see from across the table, but he can bet dollars to doughnuts Jihoon’s looking at his mark.

Okay. Let the investigation begin.

⭒

Hansol Vernon Chwe takes great pleasure in the way Jihoon jumps out of his skin when Vernon spins around in his swivel chair like a villain in an evil lair. The only thing that would make this better would be if he had a cat in his arms so he could be the true epitome of cartoon antagonist.

He’s only in Jihoon’s studio, though, camped out there ever since Seungkwan’s cryptic message about Jihoon hiding something soulmate-related. 

You’re his favourite, he texted. Get him to spill. But be subtle.

“Shit, Vernon.” Jihoon clutches his chest, his phone trapped there under his fingers. His other hand is still on the doorknob from the way he was ready to flee the fuck out of there when Vernon surprised him as soon as he turned the lights on. “How long have you been sitting there?”

Vernon pretends to inspect his nails. “Oh, not long. How about you, hyung? Did the radio show go well?”

“It was… fine.” Jihoon lowers his hand from his chest, suspicious. “Why?”

“No specific reason. Can’t I just check in on my favourite hyung?”

“After waiting in my studio with the lights off like a creep?”

Vernon tilts his head, putting a hand over his heart. “A creep? Ouch, bro. That hurts.”

Groaning, Jihoon rolls his eyes, but a pinging noise coming from his phone makes his eyes widen. He immediately brings the phone up to his face, almost comically close to his nose. “Shit,” he whispers to himself with a hint of self doubt and a dash of desperation in his voice. “No no no, wait. No. Shit.”

Curious, Vernon looks up at Jihoon. “What’s up?”

Jihoon ignores him, still speaking to himself. “What do I say?”

“Who is it?” Vernon stands from the chair and takes a step towards Jihoon.

Eyes darting up, Jihoon hides the face of his phone against his chest again and curls to the side, using his body as a shield. “No one.”

Vernon raises an eyebrow and steps even closer. “No one?”

“No one!”

Jihoon backs himself into the door of his studio, trapped between Vernon and a hard place. 

There are only two people Vernon can think of that would make Jihoon react like this to their texts.

One: IU

And two: well, the person who’s stirred up all of their lives like chaos soup.

“Y’know, hyung, it seems to me like you’re in a rough spot,” Vernon says, holding in a chuckle when Jihoon sneaks another glance at his phone. “I could help you figure out what to say.”

Jihoon gulps, looking up at him. “Really?”

He smirks. “At a price, of course.”

Jihoon’s brows pinch together, and he glares at Vernon for half a second before sighing out through his nose. “What kind of price?”

“Nothing big. Just this—” He puts his hands up in air quotes. “— ‘nobody’s’ number.”

Jihoon looks like he’s about to refuse (adamantly), but another ping from his phone plays, and as soon as he reads it, he shoves his phone in Vernon’s face.

“Fine. Help me. Please.”

Triumphant, Vernon takes Jihoon’s phone and plops back down in the swivel chair to read back on the messages to and from the unsaved number.

I’ll pay you back for the shirt

[unknown] email@domain.url

?

[unknown] You can send the money to this account

Oh What if I can't 

[unknown] …?

Uh I can’t transfer money digitally

[unknown] why not?

I don’t believe in banks?

[unknown] you… don’t believe in banks [unknown] look, if you didn’t want to pay me back, you could just like. not answer [unknown] you don’t have to waste both of our time with dumb lies [unknown] just forget it

Vernon looks up at Jihoon, whose ears have burned bright red at this point. “Holy crap dude. You’re more hopeless than I thought.”

“You don’t think I know that? Help me!”

“I know I was playing coy and not naming names…” Vernon shakes his head slowly; he can’t believe what he’s reading. “...but please tell me you’re not flubbing it this hard with our soulmate.”

Jihoon tries to defend himself. “I am not flubbing—” He cuts himself off when Vernon raises his eyebrow again. Stupid pronounced features. “Okay, yes, I’m messing up and maybe I found our soulmate this morning and maybe I poured coffee on them and maybe I feel like every rational thought has left my brain and now I can’t even text like a normal human being and you said you’d help me so help me!”

Vernon rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Fixing this might take some drastic measures…” Frowning, he blinks once and looks back up at Jihoon. “Wait, what do you mean you poured coffee on them?”

“It’s a long story— now say something with your ENFP ass before they block me!”

“This is gonna take more than a text.” Vernon stands from the chair, presses something on Jihoon’s phone screen, then turns it to face him.

Jihoon’s eyes widen at the sight: the entire screen taken over by an outgoing call to the unsaved number. Frantically, he whisper-yells, “How is this helping?!” even though their soulmate hasn’t picked up yet.

Vernon puts one hand on Jihoon’s shoulder. “Do you trust me?”

“No!”

But Jihoon doesn’t have the time to tackle Vernon and get his phone back like his brain so helpfully supplies as plan A. Your voice, quiet but undeniably yours, sounds from his phone’s speaker.

“Hello?”

⭒

“And he goes, ‘I don’t believe in banks’,” you recount to your friend, whose face takes up your phone’s screen while it sits on your bed. You were tidying up your room when he video-called you to ask how your interview went. “Banks, Heejun. Banks!”

“The hell…? Maybe he’s one of those weird apocalypse survivalist bros.”

You scoff. “In this economy? I bet he payed for that stupid coffee with a credit card.”

“Probably,” Heejun says, nodding along while he watches you fold laundry. “Was he cute?”

Your brows furrow, and you frown at your phone. “Why should that matter?”

Heejun shrugs. “Dunno. Kinda sounds like you went through a romcom meet-cute. A fucked up meet-cute, but still.”

Unable to discount his logic, you tilt your head to the side and try to remember coffee guy’s face. “He was wearing a mask… so I couldn’t really tell. Oh, I guess he was on the shorter side, but that’s pretty much all I can remember.”

“Short… red flag.”

“Get you and your toxic masculinity out of here.”

Cracking a smile, Heejun wags a finger at you. “So you’re saying you’re into short guys?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you retort with a barely veiled smile on your own face, relaxed now that the interview process is over. Either you get the job, or you don’t. It’s out of your hands now. “You know what is a red flag? His aversion to banks! I mean, what’s with that?”

“Maybe he’s allergic to electricity.”

“Heejun, in what world—”

His forehead gets covered by an incoming call from an unsaved number, but you recognize it.

“Oh,” you say. “He’s calling me.”

“Coffee guy?”

You nod. “Should I answer?”

“Get your turtleneck money, bub. You heard Smash Mouth— get the show on, get paid!”

Rolling your eyes at him, you say, “Okay, I’m hanging up, nerd.”

You end the call with Heejun and press answer to the unsaved number, bringing your phone up to your ear. “Hello?”

Nothing.

“Hello…?”

You hear some shuffling on the other end of the line, and maybe some hushed whispers, but nothing you can make out.

“If you’re trying to be funny, it’s not working—”

“Hi!” the slightly familiar voice of coffee guy filters through the phone, and you wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t.

“...Hi.” You switch your phone to your other ear. “Listen, I know I was a little intense at the cafe, but I really don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask—”

“I can pay you back! I can.”

“Okay… the email I sent you—”

“Could we, uh, meet up in person? I can give you cash.”

You’re not the best at identifying red flags, but this sure feels like one. “Because you don’t believe in banks?”

“Uhhhh…” He pauses. “...Yes. But also… we could meet in a cafe? So I can replace your drink too.”

You raise your eyebrows, knowing he can’t see it. “That’s not necessary—”

“I want to.” Some more rustling in the background. “I mean— it’s… my bad? I’d— I’d like to by you a drink.”

It’s not one of your habits to meet up with weird guys who pour coffee on people and don’t believe in banks, but for some reason, you feel weirdly flattered. “That’s the kind of line I’d usually hear in a bar.”

Coffee guy clears his throat, and you wonder if he looks as flustered as he sounds. “So… would you…?”

Sighing, you debate between your options. Meet a weirdo once and get the money back for your nicest turtleneck with the possibility of him not bringing the money at all and/or murdering you and wearing your skin as a suit because stranger danger… or avoid the situation entirely and pay for the dry-cleaning yourself.

Well, like Heejun said, if you don’t get the show on, you won’t get paid.

“Fine,” you say after a couple seconds, and you swear you hear a relieved exhale on the other end of the line. “But I’m picking the cafe and time. My friend works there, and if you try anything, he’ll beat you up.”

(Heejun wouldn’t hurt a fly if it personally wronged him, but coffee guy doesn’t need to know that.)

“Great!” he breathes out, completely glossing over the threat. “That’s great! Just, uh— text me the address!”

“I will. Just one question.”

“Uh huh?”

“Are you allergic to cats?”

⭒

When Vernon returns to the dorms, Seungkwan pulls him to the side and whispers, “So? What did you find out?”

Vernon stuffs his phone in the back pocket of his jeans, and the tiniest of smiles appears on his lips. He quickly puts on a straight face. “Nothing, sorry. You must’ve been seeing things.”

Seungkwan’s jaw drops. He gawks in disbelief as one of his best friends claps him twice on the shoulder and walks off.

You can’t trust anyone these days.

prev ⭒ chapter five (3.2k) ⭒ next

updates for and the universe said, are not on a schedule. there is no taglist. thank you for reading!

[daceydeath]

A Work Proposal (Part 5)

Pairing: Jeongin x reader Word Count: 2.4k Genre: Smut Warnings: 18+, minors dni, pubic sex, swearing, unprotected sex (don't be stupid), creampie, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk (nothing too hardcore)

You had been working with Stray Kids for a while now and after a long day at work turns into a very unexpected but intriguing proposal. Will this change your world or end your career?

Photo shoots for brands were always the easiest, followed by solo magazine shoots, group brand shoots and lastly official Stray Kids photo shoots in that order, the boys were most likely to tease each other and play around when they were all together. You knew this and everyone on their team did and it wasn't that they were unprofessional, nothing could be further from the truth, but they did genuinely act like a family and would just make fun out of the funniest or smallest thing.

Today, however, was not going to be like that at all. Jeongin had his first solo cover shoot and you were off to the location with him, Chan had told you he was nervous and had the others had too many other things on their schedules to attend with him. You were thrilled to go after all who wouldn't like to sit around an look at beautiful things all day, Jeongin being one of those beautiful things, and you were also glad he was finally getting some of the recognition he deserved. So you were sitting beside him in the van on your way there chatting about anything and nothing to fill the time. Jeongin was curious to you he could be so quiet and sweet that you were sure he was the perfect boy next door but other times he would tell the filthiest jokes or make comments that even made Minho blush, you were never sure where you sat with him.

"So is there anything that is off limits with the agreement?" He whispered making sure that the driver couldn't hear his question.

"Not during work" you mumbled back carefully "No hitting, spitting or hurting me"

"None of those things would happen, I would never do any of that" He replied instantly "but what about outside? or in the van?" he smirked.

"If it is after you have finished that should be fine" you mused softly thinking about how he would manage that without being seen by any other staff member. Jeongin just grinned widely which you belatedly realized he probably already had something planned.

"Here we are" the driver called pulling into a standard looking office building garage.

"Thank you" you smiled politely collecting your bag as you stepped out of the van before Jeongin. Thankfully there were no press photographers around today so you had far less to worry about than when they were all together. Walking into the magazines office Jeongin was greeted and led to his private artist room which was away from the hair and make up room, meaning that you would no doubt be working alone in his area for most of your day which was a relief. Often you found the hair and make up team, while usually very friendly, wanted to try to pump you for information about the kids, which you hated. Sometimes they were too interested making you uncomfortable for the guys and occasionally you wondered if they were sasaengs who managed to finally get close enough so keeping Jeongin away from overly friendly strangers made you feel better about it all.

"So, since the photographer isn't here yet and the stylist isn't ready how should we fill our time" Jeongin teased smirking at you as he made his way over to the door which he locked slowly.

"Jeongin" you warned playfully, you knew that the area was empty and that technically he hadn't started his schedule for the day yet.

"What? you said not in work hours and was are not is work hours are we angel?" he was almost prowling towards you as you watched the smile on his face get bigger as he knew he was right.

"I hate it when you boys are right I never hear the end of it" you muttered not really minding as long as you didn't get caught. After the last time there had to be a few NDA agreements signed and reassignments from one team to another, all at Chan's behest.

"So....can we have a little bit of time to play then" he grinned wickedly pulling you against him and claiming your lips. You had assumed Jeongin would be the softest one of the boys being the sweet little baby but the way he groped your arse and nibbled your bottom lip made you realize otherwise. You allowed him to guide you behind the screened off area where he would be changing his outfits, all the way to the back wall where he lent against the wall continuing his assault on your lips. You allowed him access to your mouth after the second swipe of his tongue against the seam of your lips which he feverishly took advantage of sliding it against your own as he groaned softly pushing himself completely against you. Your fingers wound themselves into his soft clean hair tugging lightly at the locks at the back of his head making him softly grind his hardening length against your hip making you gasp.

"Angel would you mind sucking me off? We don't have time for anything else yet" He panted softly against your lips making you smirk at him.

"I can definitely do that" you whispered seductively as he stepped back from you undoing his jeans and letting them fall around his ankles. You moved him so he was against the wall dropping to your knees teasingly slowly licking you lips at the outline of his still covered cock in his boxers.

"You look so pretty like that angel" he almost moaned as you carefully lowered his boxer and took him in your hand pumping him a few times to tease him before opening your mouth and looking up at him through your lashes. He groaned loudly as you took him into your mouth and sucked his tip before taking the rest of him until he was almost in your throat.

"Fuck" he whimpered as you lazily bobbed up and down his length tongue swirling around his tip every time you almost completely pulled of his cock "You are so fucking good" he continued whimpering as he clenched his hands beside him.

"You can touch me Jeongin" you purred pulling your mouth away from him for a moment only to take him further down your throat with the next pass of your mouth.

"Thank you" he groaned one hand cupping your face the other sliding into your hair holding you tightly enough to feel his strength but not hard enough for you to feel like he was directing you. You braced one hand on his thigh using the other to cup his balls rolling them in your palm and squeezing or tugging softly when you felt he needed more. After a few minutes you could feel him losing himself in your throat, his hips moving ever so slightly to meet you and his grip getting slightly tighter.

"I want to fuck your throat angel please" he begged his voice slightly slurred by his pleasure you hummed to let him know it was alright with you as he gently increased his pace still cupping your face as he began fucking your throat.

"Oh shit, shit I'm gonna cum down your throat angel would you like that?" he moaned his volume increasing with each movement of your head. You hummed around him again as his head fell back against the wall thrusting a few more times before he emptied himself in your throat and mouth. Jeongin pulled you up to your feet roughly kissing you fiercely as you came down from his high.

"You are fucking perfect angel" he whispered breathing hard as he regained his composure and you left him to get himself redressed and ready for the impending photo shoot.

Almost ten minutes later there was a knocking on the dressing room door which you answered dutifully making it look as though Jeongin was getting ready.

"We are ready to start hair and make up if you are" the assistance smiled widely as you nodded waiting for Jeongin to make his way out.

"Of course lets do this" He chirped happily following her from the room to leave you to work in peace unless he needed you.

Another 45 minutes passed and you got a one word text for him just saying help, concerned you made your way to the hair and make up team where you also found the stylist and two assistants crowded around either just staring or very obviously trying to flirt.

"Mr Yang" you smiled politely weaving your way between them to his side "I was wondering if you would be happy to go over the schedule for the rest of the day and this evening so I can make sure it matches up with Mr Bang's assistant?" you used your professional tone that left no room for any one to argue with you.

"Of course, it's less stress for Chan that way" he grinned looking up at you from the hair stylists chair.

"Would you all excuse us?" you asked politely which Jeongin knew was the fake business tone you used to make people obey you. The other four girls scattered leaving only the hairstylist to finish the already incredibly basic style he was having for the shoot, which you were sure she was dragging out so she got to flirt with him.

"What time do we leave here?" he asked innocently looking at you in the mirror.

"Well we need to be at the video shoot at 7:00 so not later the 6:00 to give you time to get there on schedule then the shoot should take four hours before you will be taken back again" you listed scrolling your screen to make it look like you weren't making stuff up to get rid of the hair stylist. A few more questions from Jeongin and she had left you alone leaving him breathing a sigh and you glaring daggers at the doorway she had just left through.

"Would you sit in on the shoot so we can keep it as short and professional as possible?" he whispered to ensure no one could be eavesdropping"

"Of course" you mouthed back as he stood as quickly looking around to see if anyone was around before dropping a soft sensual kiss to you lips before laughing at your flustered look.

"The photographer should be ready by now" he smiled making his way out of the room which you quickly followed.

The shoot was far faster than when there were several members or all of the members which made you more relieved since it would be less taxing for you to protect him from the giggling staff members. After a few hours you were back in the parking garage waiting for your driver to pick you up to get lunch.

"Since we have some more time to kill" he smirked grabbing your wrist and pulling you out of the garage into the alley way beside it kissing you deeply one hand pulling your hips against him as he pressed you into the brick wall behind you. His kisses were needy and hot like he was a man desperate for you and you could find the will to tell him no as his tongue danced with yours and his hands began to wander your body squeezing and kneading at your soft flesh.

Letting his lips move from yours he started kissing his way along your jaw and neck rolling his hips subtly against you you could feel his hard on as you gasped when he reached the sensitive spot below your ear. His hand slipped to your pants carefully undoing them and sliding his hand inside before you could even figure out what he was doing.

"Fuck, have you been this wet the whole time?" he groaned softly into your ear his hot breath fanning against your neck

"Jeongin, we can'y not here it's the middle of the day" you gasped his fingers lightly circling your clit sending shocks of pleasure through you.

"Yes we can angel I'll be quick so no one sees me filling this wet little cunt" he growled against your ear again pulling himself away from you he pushed you pants and underwear down your legs and freed himself from his jeans before spinning you so your face was pushed against the cool bricks, you could feel yourself getting even more turned on as he slid one hand down yous back to give your arse a quick slap "Tell me to stop or tell me to fuck you angel"

"Please fuck me Jeongin" you groaned feeling himself guide his cock to your entrance and sheath himself entirely inside you.

"Shit, so tight angel" he moaned loudly pounding into you without giving you time to adjust making you mewl as you tried to keep up with his rough pace.

"Hope someone comes out here and sees you clenching around my dick, bet you would love that angel" he groaned and he picked up his pace again making you keen loudly. "That's it angel let everyone know how much you love me owning this cunt"

You had never experienced anyone talking dirty to you but every filthy word that fell from his lips made you impossibly more aroused the sound of his cock thrusting into you got wetter and wetter as he got closer to his release. The sound of your driver arriving on the other side of the wall you were being fucked against and potentially hearing you made Jeongin speed up even more he was snapping his hips against you so hard you were beginning to ache but somehow that made you feel twice as much pleasure.

"You like that do you? the driver hearing you get filled up with cum? hearing you get fucked like a whore?" Jeongin snarled into yous ear latching his mouth onto your clothed shoulder to muffle his moans as his thrusts began to stutter.

"Jeongin" you moaned biting your own hand to keep yourself quiet as you walls clamped around him.

"Fuck" he almost yelled into your shoulder biting down as his cock swelled inside of you before he filled you with his seed "Fuck" he panted pulling himself from you still quivering pussy. You could feel his cum start to drip from your entrance and instantly pulled your underwear up to prevent making a mess of your pants.

"Shall we go back to the company now" you gasped while still trying to catch your breath.

"Lets go back to yours so you can get cleaned up first then we can get lunch on the way" Jeongin grinned helping dust off your clothes.

"Good plan" you smiled pecking his cheek lightly as he led you back into the garage.

A/N: Thanks again for reading this you are all amazing. If you would like to be added to the tag list let me know and as always just know if you reblog, like or comment on anything I do I will love you forever.

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @symptoms-of-moonlight, @septicrebel, @ayoitschannie, @krishatumblernow, @tangerminie, @elizalabs3, @armystay89, @septemberkisses, @stay-bi

[bubblyqueer000]

Can you write sfw and nsfw headcanons of Taka with an Ultimate Actor s/o? 👀

He’s my babygirl 😫

Kiyotaka Ishimaru x Ultimate Actor!GN!Reader

He issss!!! I wuv my pathetic blorbo!!

Man, this shit reminded me of my first time. I literally lost my virginity while impractical jokers played in the background. AND it was the ep where Murr's punishment was a prostate exam. So I was getting stuffed while Sal was in the background like 'LMFAOOOO IT LOOKS LIKE HE'S SUCKING ON A LEMON' dog that shit made me wanna die. He called me mommy tho so it was pretty dope. C:

TW//NSFW

♡ You and Taka had known eachother before you got together. 

♡ He had bothered you multiple times due to school absences when you had to prioritize your acting career over school work.

♡ “Y/N! Where have you been? You have missed three classes this week!”

♡ “Oh, I was at the movie shoot. Did I miss anything important?” 

♡ “W-What?! Every day of school is important!” He insisted. 

♡ “Jeez, alright calm down! It doesn’t matter if I skip class as long as I practice my talent! Everyone knows that!”

♡ Oooh, Taka did not like that answer. 

♡ That night, the two of you argued for hours in the halls, until it was late at night and some students yelled at you both to shut up.

♡ The next day, you were in your dorm practicing lines for the different projects you were acting in when you received a knock on your door.

♡ As expected it was Taka who burst through the door and pushed past you. You braced yourself for another lecture but it never comes. 

♡ “Y/N! Great news!” 

♡ “Um… What?”

♡ “I just decided I’m going to help you with your homework! Clear your desk!”

♡ Bro INSISTED upon it and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. 

♡ Begrudgingly, you allowed him to help and the two of you spent hours doing missing homework and studying.

♡ You hated every moment of it. 

♡ That is until he wanted to study Japanese.

♡ It was still pretty boring until he realized that you were paying very little attention, and his eyes wandered over to one of your scripts.

♡ “Hey! We’re studying public speaking at the moment! Why don’t you read this TV script to me!”

♡ “I… Can’t do that. I signed an NDA.” 

♡ “That doesn’t matter! I don’t watch TV!” Taka explained. You hesitate for a minute and then decide it couldn’t hurt as long as he tells no one.

♡ The two of you read the script all night and the next day, you’re suddenly best friends like Taka and Mondo.

♡ Months later, the movie you had been missing class for was released and you invited Taka to the premiere.

♡ It was the first time that Taka saw you in formal wear. Before then he already had a tiny crush on you, but after that, he knew he was in love.

♡ From there, he decided that decided that that was the day he would confess to you.

♡ Shortly after the movie, the two of you rode back to class and he realized that he was running out of time. Taka was a nervous wreck the entire time and finally, it was time to say good night, and he still hadn’t told you.

♡ He walked you to your room and… That was it.

♡ It was ten minutes when you got the knock on your door. Some of the other students were at the premiere so you figured that it was just them coming to congratulate you. Instead, standing at the door, was your very sweaty friend Taka, now half undressed only in a dress shirt, loosened tie, briefs, and a pair of socks.

♡ “Um… Hi Taka… Are you-”

♡ “Y/N! I… I’M… SO!” He says, between heavy breaths. “I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!”

♡ And that was the start of your beautiful relationship. :3

NSFW:

♡ Taka isn’t interested in anything that’s not completely and totally safe, legal, and consensual. And man, does he get embarrassed about this kind of thing. 

♡ When you two of you first had sex it was in your dorm room and it was super vanilla, but also very passionate.

♡ So much kissing, hand-holding, praise, and even eye contact after a while!

♡ Taka didn’t realize how much he liked sex until after he did it with you. Although, that doesn’t say much since you were absolutely his first time.

♡ That said when you started getting busy with what you were acting in at any given time he would often visit you on set and wait for you in your dressing room. Then when it was empty… Yeah, you know where this is going lmaoooo

♡ It took Taka a long time to be comfortable because, even though a dressing room you practically own isn’t public, he sees it as very taboo.

♡ He would never admit it but he even found it kind of thrilling.

♡ Regardless, he always prefers having sex in one of your dorms, because it usually means you can take your time and you don’t have to worry about anyone hearing who might not want to.

♡ Okie that’s it! Wuv u :3

[wrestlingisfake]

A brief history of CM Punk-AEW drama

Saw someone ask for a full recap of the Punk/AEW drama. So I spent an hour writing a decent summary, and by the time I finished they deleted the post I was trying to reblog. That's okay, I get it. But since I put in the work I'm just gonna make my own post, in case anyone else has questions.

I have tried to keep this as unbiased as possible, with a summary of the discourse at the end. If anybody needs more clarification on anything you can send me an ask.

CM Punk signed with AEW in 2021. Right away a big issue that came up was his ex-friend Colt Cabana. (Long story.) By early 2022, rumors began to swirl among the wrestlers that Punk was using his star power to get Cabana pushed out of the company. Cabana's friends in the company assumed the rumors were true and resented Punk. This came to a head in May 2022, when Adam Page referenced the rumors on live TV, in a segment with Punk. By this point Punk's relationship with Page and the Young Bucks was damaged beyond repair.

On September 4, 2022, during the post-show scrum for All Out, Punk aired his grievances with the Young Bucks (always referring to them as "the EVPs") and Adam Page. Punk clearly believed the Bucks manufactured the "Punk is trying to force Cabana out" story and leaked it to wrestling news sites to turn the locker room against Punk. Punk closed by saying that if anybody had a problem with him, he had an "open door" policy, and he'd be in his dressing room. The Bucks and fellow EVP Kenny Omega went to see him. A fight broke out. Everyone involved--even people who just tried to break it up--was suspended for a while (except Punk, who was going to be sidelined for months for a torn triceps either way).

We don't have much solid information about the September 2022 fight. Most reports I read suggest Punk and his friend Ace Steel made it physical, with Punk punching one of the Bucks (maybe both, I can't remember) and Steel throwing a chair and biting Omega. One account said the Bucks kicked the door open, unwittingly hitting Punk's dog in the face and knocking several teeth loose, which would have provoked Punk's side. It's also been suggested that since Steel's wife was in the room and in no condition to flee a potential three-on-two ambush, this could have made Steel and Punk feel they had to come out swinging. There is no footage of the fight, but there were neutral parties who witnessed it (notably including AEW's chief legal officer, Megha Parekh). Everyone involved signed NDAs and can't/won't talk about it on the record.

For the next nine months, it wasn't clear if Punk wanted to come back to AEW, or if AEW wanted to bring him back. Lots of people suggested that Punk and the three EVPs could talk it out and then make a lot of money turning it into a fake wrestling feud. But Omega and the Bucks showed no interest in talking to Punk or working with him. Ultimately Punk returned in June 2023 on a new show, Collision. The idea was that the EVPs (and anyone else who couldn't co-exist with Punk) would stay on Dynamite, and Punk would have carte blanche on Collision.

Within a couple of months, reports emerged about backstage issues involving Punk. The main one that blew up involved Jack Perry, who was always tight with the Bucks, and was typically on Dynamite, and not on Collision. Perry had vacation time scheduled and wanted to shoot an angle to explain his absence, in which HOOK would throw him into a car windshield. For some reason it didn't get done on a Dynamite taping, so arrangements were made to shoot it at a Collision taping. Everybody who thought the windshield spot with real glass was a bad idea asked Punk to talk Perry out of it. It's not clear whether Tony Khan approved the spot for Dynamite, or rescheduling it for Collision, or allowing Punk to have the last word. Ultimately the windshield spot was canceled.

On August 31, 2023, Perry wrestled Hook at All In, and they finally did the windshield spot that Punk previously nixed. Perry went out of his way to reference the earlier story, saying "You know what this is? Real glass! Go cry me a river," as if daring Punk to do something about it. After the match, Perry went behind the curtain just as Punk and Samoa Joe were getting ready for their match. By all accounts, Punk complained to Perry, Perry was like "what are you going to do about it?" and Punk decided that justified starting a fight. It was broken up very quickly, and then Punk got all hostile with Tony Khan, saying "this place is a joke and you're a clown." Punk was asked to leave, and within a week he had been terminated with cause.

The "CM Punk did nothing wrong" position, generally speaking, is that AEW is severely mismanaged, with Tony Khan allowing the Young Bucks and their friends to do a lot of dumb bullshit, leaving Punk no choice but to take matters into his own hands. Punk's enemies within AEW conspired to turn the locker room against him, and used wrestling news outlets to spread anti-Punk stories to turn the fandom against him. In any case, Punk is the biggest star AEW has ever signed (if not the biggest star AEW will ever sign), and it was bad for business to let him get so discouraged.

The "Punk screwed Punk" position, generally speaking, is that his grievances with AEW management stopped mattering whenever he resorted to physical force. His Bruiser Brody approach to throwing his weight around is backward and outdated in the 2020s (and didn't even end well for Brody in the 1980s). His assumption that the Bucks planted anti-Punk stories in the media is unfounded, and rather paranoid. He resents the EVPs for lawyering up instead of burying the hatchet, even though he feels totally justified taking the same approach with Colt Cabana. Basically, Punk thinks he can do what he likes, and anyone else who does the same against Punk's wishes is a snake, a clown, or soft.

Splitting the difference between these takes: Everybody should have talked this out by early 2022, before it got out of hand. Tony Khan should have gotten out in front of the the "Punk is trying to get rid of Cabana" rumors before they got online. Punk and Cabana should have come to terms on how they would co-exist as soon as Punk joined the company. Adam Page should not have bottled up his grievances until he was on live TV, and Punk should not have bottled up his resentment about that until a media scrum. Once it got past that point, and the first fight happened, Khan needed to take charge and settle it, immediately. He needed to choose, in September 2022, between keeping Punk aboard at all costs, or showing Punk who's boss at all costs. Instead, he tried to have it both ways for a year, until Punk made that impossible.

[deathlysilent13]

DPxDC Fic Snippet: Host Club Danny

(Before we get going: this is not a Mature rated story. Genuine Host clubs/Hostess clubs have very little, if any, physical interaction and it is absolutely not sexual. Ouran High School Host Club is inaccurate, though I did draw from a tiny bit of that, as well. Basics to note: Danny co-owns the club with Harvey Dent, and very, very rarely works the floor, but when Harvey's friend's kids need a safe space, is there really any one else can can be trusted? Also, another Bad Fenton Parent story, though that isn't really more than background here.)

They reach for the food at the same time, dishing samplings of the cooking. “There’s so many things I want to throw at you,” Tim murmurs, staring down at his bruschetta, “but that NDA definitely threw me off. Don’t bother, I texted Damian, he’s already confirmed it’s damn near identical to the one he signed. You’re actually that serious about not breaking confidence, aren’t you?” 

Danny nods, digging into the caprese salad. “Our guests come to be heard without judgment, to slough off the woes of the world for a moment. That can’t happen if they have to be on edge wondering what we’re going to tattle about, whether they’re going to be Miss Vale’s latest story.” He pins Tim with a sharp look, because one of the Wayne siblings had, in fact, been in the news that morning. 

Tim grimaces. “Yeah, that’s Dick for you,” he grumbles. “Man grew up in the circus and despite living in Gotham as long as he has, he still hates being on the ground.” 

Danny smirks. He’s been told about two of the chandelier incidents. From the look on Tim’s face, he sees it, because the man just groans again. 

They get through the appetizers, and Danny’s setting Tim’s entree in front of him before he speaks again. “So, since I can’t ask about my brother,” Tim starts, pointing a fork at him, “the hell was with the bilateral NDA? Why would something like that be necessary?” 

Danny settles back in his chair, making sure he’s still outwardly calm. “Because you’re not the only one with more than one face,” he answers simply as he tucks into his mushroom risotto with truffle oil. 

Tim blinks, filet mignon halfway to his mouth. “I genuinely can’t tell what that means,” he says almost accusingly as he finally bites into his dinner. 

Danny gives him a moment to savor. “It means everything said in this room is safe, no matter how dangerous it may be elsewhere,” he answers, keeping things simple. He won’t verify anything just yet, but honestly he has a sneaking suspicion that Tim’s enjoying the attention. 

The man narrows his eyes, staring at Danny through two more bites. Instead of firing another question at Danny, however, he pulls out his phone and stares at it like it personally offended him. “What the hell did he tell you?” the man mutters, though mostly to himself. 

Danny sips his chardonnay. “He told me what he needed to,” he says. “The point is to provide a safe space to let things off the chest. You have a copy of the NDA.” The last is a reminder, and one that has Tim’s eyes widening before narrowing. 

Danny can’t help his smirk, which just makes Tim scowl. “What? You wanna talk about the years I spent alone in a house my parents couldn’t bother to heat while they were traipsing all over the country without me?” he asks sharply, though Danny can see scars long healed in his words. “Or about taking on a responsibility I never asked for because my hero had died and the city’s protector was going to kill someone if things didn’t change? The attempt on my life someplace I was supposed to be safe for trying to fill shoes I knew from the beginning were beyond me?”

Danny blinks, watching Tim rapidly approaching a breakdown. He’s pieced some of it together since learning that Damian was Robin, that Tim was before him. He doesn’t have everything, though. He manages not to sigh, wondering how many times he’s going to tell this family his own story to work around their blocks. So he does, telling him exactly what he’d told Damian about his accident, the portal, and his parents. Tim’s eyes go wider and wider as Danny continues, and he can see that the reason for the NDA sinks home. 

Tim, thankfully, is just about done with his food, because it’s forgotten. “What the fuck,” he says hollowly. “You…..your parents?” Danny just nods. 

Tim’s hand rakes through his hair. Danny watches him stare into his pinot noir. “I never wanted the cape,” he whispers. Danny can hear the confession, the secret he’s terrified to speak. “The second Robin had been killed by the Joker, Batman was losing it. Getting rougher, breaking bones for even petty crime. I’d been chasing them for years, watching. He’d caught me once, that Robin.” He pauses here, his face falling into a despondent sort of fondness. “I’d slipped off a fire escape and he was just there. Closest thing to a friend I had, and honestly if things had been different I might have loved him. I needed to help Batman, needed to get him back to the man my Robin believed in.” His breath hitches. 

Danny sits quietly, letting him talk. He doesn’t much like the picture being painted. “The failure of an adult is not a child’s burden,” he says quietly. “You should never have had to make that choice.” 

[lunehong]

Black Pirates | Eight

Modern era robin hood ATEEZ X Undercover spy fem OC

ship : ??? X OC

Genre : slowburn, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers

Synopsis : "The world may be unfair but it does not stop us from changing our own fate." Kang Sohyun tries to investigate a group of bandits who are causing havoc in all of Korea. As she gets into close contact with them, her view of them slowly starts to change. "Why do people even hate you?" "If we worried about what people thought of us, we would've all been in a slump of despair by now." 

Warnings : none ig

A/n : If anyone wants to be added to the taglist let me know !

Masterlist , Prologue , Chapter one , Chapter two , Chapter three , Chapter four , Chapter five , Chapter six , Chapter seven

CHAPTER 8

It had been three days since the encounter at the museum. Both Jongho and Sohyun stayed home throughout, taking some time away from society to grasp the situation they were in.

 The two of them were rivals. One creating chaos and the other one searching for ways to end it, a stark contrast from how their relationship actually was. Joined at the hip since middle school; no matter how much the two ventured out, they always managed to return to each other’s side at the end of the day. A decade worth of memories wasn’t something to be thrown away just like that. They considered each other family and being with one another was natural to them. 

These exact causes made it hard for them to accept each other as enemies.

Unable to dispel their inner turmoil, they decided to face each other head-on if needed and deal with the consequences when they presented themselves.

Sohyun was starting to consider herself a good actress for being able to remain as normal as she usually was any other day. She spotted Jongho in the hallways once but was yet to interact with him properly, not that she wanted to anyway. 

During their shared break, Jongho parted from his classmates and headed towards the bench that he and Sohyun occupied. The bench was outdoors, overlooking a small garden that the college authorities maintained.

He sat there in silence for a while, wondering if Sohyun ditched him but soon enough, the girl arrived and situated herself on the bench. 

The tension between them was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Neither of them initiated any conversation and munched on their chosen snacks. It was like they didn’t know how to approach each other anymore, when previously, they always had something or the other to talk about.

Soon they noticed that the other students who were mingling in the area were starting to pick up on their unusual silence. The two always laughed and spoke out loud, sometimes accompanied by a smack or two in the head or the arms, making them very much noticeable to anyone passing by. So, it was undoubtedly out of the ordinary to see the pair eating quietly.

Not being able to take the deafening silence any longer, Jongho gave in and broke the ice.

“I know we aren’t really on talking terms Sohyun-ah but people are already starting to suspect our demeanour. The reason why we’re both here is so that we don’t raise any suspicions and we’re actually doing a very bad job at it. Can we at least be civil for the sake of the cover?” 

“Okay, fine, Jongho-yah. I wasn’t really planning on keeping quiet but I didn’t know what to say.” 

Jongho was contemplating on whether he should bring up the sensitive topic or not, but he really wanted some form of clarity regarding the predicament they were in.

“So, who are you working for? If you don’t mind telling me that is,” He asked.

Sohyun took a few seconds to mull over his words, thinking if she should reveal it or not. When Jongho was almost sure that she wouldn’t disclose anything, he heard her sigh and focus her attention back to him. 

“NDA.” She spoke up. 

Jongho’s eyes went wide in shock but then his expression turned into one of amusement.

“Wow, I- I was not expecting- How did you even get in touch with the NDA of all organisations?” 

“I got scouted by someone from the NDA in this cyber convention I was attending a few years back. It was about me catching his eyes or something. I don’t really know why he picked me in particular, but it all worked out at the end I guess.” Sohyun explained. “Okay but when was this though?” Jongho asked while trying to remember anything about her attending a convention. 

“Well, you wouldn’t know, because it was during freshman year and you were living with your aunt back then.” 

Realisation dawned upon Jongho as he nodded his head in acknowledgement. 

“What about you? Why Black Pirates?” Sohyun inquired after telling him her part of the story. 

“I wish I could tell you Hyun-ah but I can’t  reveal information like this without my captain’s permission. I’m sorry.” Jongho looked down. 

“What I can tell you though, is that we don’t have any bad intentions. There was something I wanted to accomplish, planning on carrying it out on my own but I couldn’t go far. However, I came in contact with them instead, completely by accident. I came to know that they had similar goals as me and they were willing to help me out if I helped them back. That’s how I became a part of them.”

Sohyun looked at him, not knowing what to think. She thought she knew everything about the boy beside her, but it was proving to be wrong. Sohyun really wanted to know his reasons but she understood that he had protocols to follow, just like she would have to if she had a permanent team assigned to her at NDA. 

“This happened during the time I was living at my aunt’s by the way.” Jongho added, making Sohyun scoff.

“Looks like we both got ourselves into something when we were apart, huh.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, finishing the remaining snacks and enjoying the breeze. There were a few minutes left for the break to end when Jongho spoke up,

“So, was whatever you said to me that day true? Or was it a heat of the moment thing?”

“Hm? No no, it was very true Jongho-yah. It was just me trying to test a theory out and trying to find more intel on you guys that particular day. You’re lucky that I’m not entitled to the agency as of yet, or else they would’ve surely kept tabs on me and my whereabouts, like they do with full-time members. But the next time I go on a mission to capture the Black Pirates I will not hold back, even if it’s you. I’ve been clear about that. Until and unless I find that whatever everyone is saying about you guys is fake and you guys are actually not dangerous, I will not be generous.” Sohyun got up.

“The person you’ll face on the field would be Agent Kang Sohyun, not your best friend.”

“Fair enough.” Jongho got up with a sigh. “I’ll keep that in mind, Sohyun-ah. But I hope our involvement with opposing organisations will not impact our relationship outside.”

“Not that I can stay away from you anyway, Ho-yah” She called him by his nickname making him crack a smile. “Unless I’m on your captain’s hitlist and you’re on my team’s, we’re good.” Sohyun smiled.

The two made their way back to their respective classes with smiles on their faces. They were relieved that their secrets won't create a rift between them, even if it was momentary. 

While Sohyun and Jongho were busy paying attention to each other, they failed to notice a mysterious figure keeping an eye on them from the shadows.

After everything they heard, the figure went on his way while creating a plan in his head– a plan to bring Kang Sohyun down.

Next chapter

Tags : @wooyoos @jwnghyuns @starillusion13

[davekat-sucks]

Been thinking about HS2, as you do. And to be honest, I have no idea how we got here. I mean I know a bunch of shit happened to Hussie over the debacle of the game. But how did we get to HS2. Like, it hates you. HS2 reads like it hates the reader, it hates homestuck, it hates the reader for enjoying homestuck. I would call it misery porn, but even misery porn has some sort of catharsis. Some kind of release. HS2 does not. Its just an anon telling you to kill yourself, over and over for the length of the Epilogue and HS2 up to this point. The former team members, are allegedly, the progressive leftist type, yeah? So why did they decide to kill Rosemary, the fandoms pet lesbian ship? The one thing that would get thousands of screeching people telling you to kill yourself if you dared ship rose or kanaya with anyone other then themselves? Why did they make so many characters act out of character, why kill so many? Why introduce so many uncomfortable kinks? Why did they make dog dick jade canon? And call it the trans rep? Aint these people supposed to be allies? Supposed to care about the LGBTHDTV+? Supposed to be part of the alphabet people themselves? How? Why? Spite? It certainly seems so. HS2 seems like it was written from a place of spite, just sheer derision for the material and the author. Maybe Hussie planned this, maybe he hated his own creation and the fans of it, maybe the team did this of their own volition? I dont know, I doubt we ever will. How can Roach write the story like this? I dont know too much about him. I dont have a reason to trust him, but I dont have a reason to distrust him either. But giving him the benefit of the doubt, Id say that he's passionate about Homestuck and wants to bring it to a good place, but how do you do that? How do you bring something from a place of sheer hatred into a place of passion? Without retcons or denouncing the things that came before? I have no doubt that he's under NDA's out the ass, probably has some "non slander" clauses in his contract as well, since you obviously just cant bad mouth the previous team, even if they deserve it. Still, I am just at a sheer loss of how the comic can be turned around with this development. I know Im going to be following it, is it possible for an IP to give you Stockholm Syndrome? Because no matter how bad Homestuck gets, I cant give it up. Theres still more blood and bodies to be found in this train wreck. I dunno, sorry for the rant, but you're really the only other blogger I feel I can vent shit about homestuck towards. Lots of the people I knew before dropped out, or I lost contact when my first blog got obliterated.

It's alright. I know what you mean and have similar feelings as well about all this. There are other fandoms and interests that have similar cases of going back to your abusive lover because you had liked what they were before. Just look at comic book fans, Disney fans, Pokemon fans, RWBY fans, etc. Homestuck's case is that the effort to contribute anything to it is just tiring. Other series have similar themes of nihilism and dark topics. But the fans there are able to make great fan works despite such depressing tone. Was it because the execution of those lets audiences have a choice to give a better outlook on things while Homestuck denies us this? Maybe. It's hard to pinpoint where had it all gone wrong or why it still continuing. Even if somehow Roach is able to salvage it, the damage has been done that it will take a long long time to really forgive and forget. Though with the downward spiral of this current generation, they'll probably be lucky to rope in new fans to enjoy that small high before they move on to something new and better.

[writer-in-theory]

Midnight Rendezvous — steddie.

Summary: After Starcourt, Steve can’t sleep for fear of the Russians coming back for them. He finds help in the most unlikely of people. Prompt: A1 - Hunted Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley Rating: Teen Word Count: 8.6k Content Warnings: Language, Paranoia, Mentions of past torture (Starcourt), Sleep Deprivation Also Read On AO3: HereA/N: I was stumped on this one for a very long time, but I am so so proud of how it ended up. Huge thanks to @serenity-lattes for plotting some of this out with me and helping work through the writer's block, and huge huge thanks also to Serenity and @lcvingprentjss for beta-ing. This is also another fill for @harringroveson-bingo

SIX HOURS POST-STARCOURT

The man that hugged Joyce Byers in the Starcourt parking lot told Steve he should go to the hospital. He called himself Dr. Sam Owens and said that since the Russians had interrogated Steve they’d have to keep him later than the kids. Robin too. He said it would only take an hour tops, and how could Steve refuse when the US army was moving all around them? So sure, while all the kids climbed into their parents’ cars and drove off for some much-deserved sleep, he and Robin climbed into one of the military vans and let Owens take them wherever he needed. 

Only once they were driving did it occur to Steve that the US government was partially responsible for the lab, for starting all of this. They were the ones that made him, Jonathan, and Nancy sign that NDA in ‘83 when they’d taken down a Demogorgon on their own. They were the ones who kept the lab open even after it killed Barb and nearly took Will from his family twice. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten in the van after all.

The questioning took five hours, in total. Steve had been guided into a room empty of anything except a table and a chair on either side of it. The scene looked scarily like something out of a cop procedural show, and Steve half-expected to be handcuffed to the table while Owens asked him questions about what had happened, about what he’d told the Russians.

Because that was apparently something he had to worry about now: leaking national secrets to their enemy.

They asked him about every second of that night, from the Russian radio message to how long they spent in the movie theatre, to every single word that Steve told the head Russian. “I just told them the truth. I kept telling them we didn’t know anything, we were just mall workers. They thought...they thought we were spies or something.” 

The Russians weren’t going to stop until Steve told them something useful or he was destroyed, of that he was sure. As Owens kept pressing him—Are you sure? There’s no shame in telling them something—Steve wondered if the same were true of the Americans.

Owens took a blood sample too—said he wanted to run some tests to figure out whatever he and Robin had been injected with. The man said it was in the name of protecting their health, but Steve had a sinking feeling he was more interested in getting a truth serum for their own side.

After five hours, when Steve was nearly passing out at the table, Owens told him he could go. Said he’d called Steve’s parents but they didn’t answer, even tried to look apologetic about it like Steve hadn’t been expecting that exact thing. Robins parentsoffered to take him to the hospital to recover from the injuries he sustained in the “mall fire” as Owens was calling it. It would’ve been smart. His eye still felt like it might pop from his head at any second and he still couldn’t see clearly, his vision blurry and swirling if he tried to focus too much. 

All he wanted to do was sleep. A hospital meant more questions he didn’t have answers to, and it meant the kids visiting the next day and looking at him like he was someone to be pitied. And how could he ever let Henderson look at him like that when he’d given his name up at the first opportunity?

So he asked the Buckleys to drop him off at home, lied and told them his parents would want to take him in the morning. Everyone in town knew by now that Robert and Linda Harrington were hardly home, but with one noise from Robin, the Buckleys were letting Steve out of the car with the promise that Robin would come by tomorrow to check-in. After just over a month of working together, it seemed Robin understood him better than some of the friends he’d had for a lifetime, knowing without even asking that he wouldn’t want the fuss. 

Steve didn’t bother to shower, tend to his injuries, or even peel off his bloodied and stained Scoops uniform before he fell into bed and passed out, the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon.

TWELVE HOURS POST-STARCOURT

Steve woke up to someone banging on his front door.

He always used to struggle to wake up in the mornings, head seemingly tied to the pillow and eyelids weighed down by lead stones. Now, however, he jolted awake, legs kicking out and arms tucking close to his chest as though ready to defend himself immediately. 

Instead, he groaned and let his head smack back against the pillow as he heard a “Dingus! I know you’re in here somewhere! Why don’t you lock your front door?” rise up from the ground floor. 

His head still ached worse than it ever had before, vision blurry from more than grogginess. The words seemed to pierce individually into his skull, adding to the stinging sensation that rose up from around his left eye. 

“Buckley,” he groaned too weakly for her to hear, pressing one palm over his eyes in the hopes that if he didn’t move from the bed, she might leave.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her. On the contrary, the idea of spending all day alone in the house sent a chill down his spine. No, it was rather he knew what would happen if she saw him now—laying in bed wearing the same clothes they’d been interrogated in last night, topped off with blood and puke-stained Nikes that really should have never been allowed back in the house now tangled up in the comforter. But as minutes passed and Steve could still hear his friend making commentary from downstairs, he knew she wasn’t going to abandon him that quickly. So he pulled himself from bed to ready himself for the day. 

The Scoops uniform got tossed along with the sneakers into a corner of his room to be thrown away later. He climbed into a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft pullover and grabbed an old washcloth to try and scrub some of the blood off of his skin in the sink. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but at least then Robin wouldn’t be as concerned when she saw him.

“You look like shit, Steve,” Robin called out the second he made his way down the stairs, sitting up on the kitchen island instead of at the barstools in front of it.

“Yeah? You don’t look so good yourself,” Steve tossed back, eyes checking for any injuries on her but instead seeing deeper fatigue that seemed more than a lingering hangover from the experimental Russian drugs had given them. She’d been interrogated too—in fact, she’d stayed with him when she could have escaped with the kids, resigning herself to a terrible fate simply so Steve wouldn’t go through it alone. In one night, she’d done more for him than anyone had ever done in his entire life collectively, and now Steve didn’t know how he was ever supposed to make up for the effects of it on her now. “Breaking and entering isn’t a good look on you.”

“It’s not breaking anything if the door was unlocked.” Robin gleefully snatched the box of Cheerios Steve handed to her, instantly diving her hand straight into it for a bunch instead of pouring them into a bowl. 

“I think Hop would disag—” the words clung like glue to the inside of Steve’s throat, choking him off as the rest of their night flashed back in his head. 

Billy fell dead, just like that, sacrificing himself for all of them. Lucas held onto Max while Mike held onto El, and Robin pulled Steve from the scene because he couldn’t stop staring at his classmate. The military stormed in not long later, pulling all of them out of the building before any of them could even begin to process what had happened. Joyce and Murray came out moments later, holding onto each other. Hop never showed. He never showed.

Steve dipped his chin down, letting his lips purse for a moment before re-schooling his features into something that might’ve portrayed that he was okay to someone who hadn’t watched him perfect that expression all summer. 

“To the Chief,” Robin offered around her mouthful of Cheerios, holding up the box in a mimicry of a toast. Steve nodded anyway, lifting the jug of milk he’d grabbed from the fridge up before taking a long swig from it. He knew his mom would yell at him if she ever saw him do it, but luckily he couldn’t remember the last time she’d been home long enough to catch him in the act.

“To Hop,” Steve answered, dropping the milk on the counter with just enough force that a bit of it splattered out of the jug. “How’re you doing with all this? You know, evil Russians and freaky people-mush monsters?” He’d at least had a slow ramp-up into Russian interrogations and the literal death of people their age—though never once did Steve ever think he’d be thankful for the demodogs, he found himself grateful he hadn’t been thrown into this without any kind of warning.

“I’m fine.” Robin shrugged, abandoning her Cheerios and instead studying the chipped black polish on her fingernails. At first, Steve had thought it was strange—all of the girls he’d ever dated preferred soft pinks and neutrals instead of the harsh black that Robin liked to coat her nails with. It stood out and made her stand apart from everyone else. Now he just thought it was fitting for her—Robin Buckley did not deserve to be hidden away in the crowd. “I don’t think I slept at all last night.”

“I couldn’t have stayed awake if I tried,” Steve countered, still feeling that residual bone-deep tiredness he’s sure won’t ever fade away again. 

“I know they’re gone, that Mrs. Byers and that weird journalist guy blew them all up or whatever, but I keep thinking about the fact that the Russians have our names, our faces. I mean, they could find us. If they wanted.”

And, well, Steve hadn’t had time to consider it before but it made sense. The Russians knew nearly everything about them by the end of the night, including the names of their middle school friends. At least Will would be getting out soon, escaping to California where the Russians wouldn’t think to look for him. But Dustin? Robin? Erica? They all still lived in Hawkins like sitting ducks, just waiting for the Soviets to remember that revenge was on the table. 

“Owens figured everything out last time. He told us what to say and do to stay safe. It was shit, but it did work,” Steve told Robin, hoping that she knew better than to tell her parents that it hadn’t been a mall fire they’d been caught in. He was sure they had questions, namely why they were there so late when the mall was closed on the Fourth and why her coworker had looked beaten to hell. Unfortunately, though, Robin was added to the exclusive list of Hawkins residents who had far too many answers for anyone’s good, another protector of a town’s worth of secrets.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s making sure the Russians stay away from us. We’re not that interesting anyway.”

“Right. I mean, why’d they think we were spies anyway?” Steve returned, feeling the corners of his lips pull upward as Robin laughed. “What spies wear sailor costumes willingly?”

“They just didn’t want to hurt their egos by admitting two teenagers accidentally snuck into their super secret fortress,” Robin laughed, some of that exhaustion easing away with the ability to crack a joke. It reminded him of shifts at Scoops, the days when he thought he’d hate every hour of working but really came to look forward to them simply because she was there. She’d quickly become his best friend, someone who understood him in ways none of his other friends ever had before. 

“Morons,” Steve scoffed, sharing a matching grin with Robin at the call-back to their night fighting Russians together. It had been the first time he thought they’d be okay, sitting there laughing as the drugs had begun to kick in. 

And as he and Robin settled into the day together, Steve thought maybe they actually could be okay again now, too. 

ONE DAY POST-STARCOURT—AWAKE TWELVE HOURS

The darkness that came with nighttime in a small town stopped feeling comforting right around the same time a Demogorgon killed a classmate in Steve’s pool. 

He used to love sitting by his pool—feeling the slight chill of an Indiana summer night mixed with the humidity of the water vapor curling up from the pool’s surface. He’d roll up his pants and dip his feet into the water, leaning back on his palms so he could stare up at the twinkling night sky and think. Even as small as Hawkins was, the noise during the day was often too much for Steve to focus on much of anything except survival. It was why partying had once been his favorite activity—it gave him the chance to numb the feelings and bite off the circuit of racing thoughts. 

Now, all he could imagine was how scared Barb must have felt in her last moments. He thought about how scared he’d felt when he faced down a pack of demodogs, knowing the bus was a hundred yards away and he was armed with nothing but a bat of nails. He’d just begun tackling those fears when Starcourt happened. 

Robin was right. How could they think that this was all over just because they’d killed the Mind Flayer? Sure the immediate threat to Hawkins was gone, but what about the one to him and Robin? The fact of the matter was, they had only captured four Russian soldiers at the end of the night, and none of them had been willing to say anything about what they were up to or how much information they’d gained from the pair. For all they knew, the Russians knew everything about them and would be prepared to come after them for ruining everything. 

After all, Steve had made it particularly clear to the one in charge—Commander Ozerov—that they’d be telling the US military about the Russian base, that they’d be the ones single-handedly taking down the entirety of the Russians’ plan for...well, whatever the fuck they thought they were doing with a Gate to Hell.

They could be in Hawkins already, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Robin had gone home well before the sun began to set, flashing him an apologetic smile and saying her parents were keeping her on a tight schedule now for her safety. Steve couldn’t even be upset about it either, because he understood. In fact, he felt better knowing that she had people looking out for her, a family who would pick up the phone when the military called to say she was involved in a fire so bad it burned the entire mall down. So he’d hugged her goodbye and waited until her parents’ car turned off of his street before he took off sprinting through the house, turning on each and every light on his path. 

Steve sat in the living room for hours before he admitted that sleep wasn’t going to happen that night, not when every time he blinked Ozerov’s cruel expression flashed on his eyelids. He could still feel the way that man grabbed his chin, pulled at his hair, and threatened to add even more bruises to the mottled colors on Steve’s face. He could hear the laugh, the cruel way he’d called Steve Butterscotch before signaling for a doctor to torture him for information he didn’t have.

No, Steve couldn’t sit still in an empty house, waiting for someone to come pick him off. 

So instead he grabbed his keys, immediately beginning to make the loop that he did when taking the kids to the arcade. He stopped by each of their houses, even drove by the turnoff to the Byers house out on the edge of town, to make sure there were no signs of Russians. 

Because they had to be here. It couldn’t be over, not this easily. Not when Steve had given them names. 

And when he’d passed by every house at least twice, Steve went back to the old train tracks where he and Dustin first tried to lure Dart into a trap. It hadn’t even been a year since then and yet it felt like an entire lifetime ago. Steve wanted to grab the old version of him by the Members Only jacket, shake himself and ask why the hell he was so hung up on a girl who never really loved him when he could be worrying about jobs, school, and monsters human and non-human alike who’d threaten to hurt him and his friends.

It was stupid to walk in the woods alone at night. Steve knew that. He knew that even with his trusty nail bat anything from the Upside Down or Russian could take him down easily. His head still hurt and he was sure he was concussed from the way he wobbled when he walked. His eyes could hardly adjust to daytime now, much less the darkness, so he spent his walk guiding himself mostly by the touch of his fingertips on tough tree bark. 

Maybe that was what made him miss it at first. He didn’t know how long someone had been following him, but it must have been awhile. He heard footsteps not far behind him, maybe off to the left a little if his ears could be trusted. Had the Russians found him? Were they laughing at him now, wondering how Agent Butterscotch could be so stupid as to leave himself defenseless in the middle of the woods at night?  The snap of a twig right behind him was his only warning that the man was gaining on him before Steve was lashing out, grabbing at the front of a shirt and slamming the body up against the nearest tree.

“Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?!” a vaguely familiar voice was calling out, voice higher pitched in fear, shock, or some mix of both.

That was an American accent.

Immediately all tension left Steve's body, running as quickly as it had built up at the sound of footsteps. He let go of the man’s shirt but didn’t step fully back yet, eyes squinting as he fought to make out the features of the face in front of him.

He knew this guy.

Steve saw dark brown eyes first, wide and starkly contrasting the pale skin around them. Black unruly curls stood out next, tied up in a bun now but usually falling down by the man’s shoulders when they went to school together. He could just make out a t-shirt with some band’s logo, likely music that would make Steve wince. 

“Eddie Munson?” Steve balked, fear and adrenaline turning to frustration the second he knew he wasn’t in any real danger—not unless Carol’s rumors that Eddie sacrificed people to the devil were true. “What the hell are you doing out in the middle of the woods, man?”

“Oh sorry, I forgot Steve Harrington owned the woods, too,” Eddie shot back without hesitation. “You crashed my spot, man.”

Eddie had always been a prick.

No, maybe that wasn’t quite right. Steve remembered a few choice words called between them in the cafeteria, could hear the irritating way that Eddie had made fun of every sport that Steve played. But Steve also remembered the things he’d said to Eddie in return, the harsh words about being held back like a fucking dumbass loser, as if he hadn’t been one bad pop quiz from the same exact fate. 

Maybe they’d both been pricks.

“I’m just trying to think, I’m not looking for a fight,” Steve groaned, hoping that would be enough to flatten the hackles that had risen on Eddie’s shoulders. 

“Looks like one already found you. You and Hargrove fight over the right to Nicole’s bed again?”

Hargrove. Billy Hargrove, who spent the last moments of his life not beating Steve to a pulp but saving his life. All of their lives, really. Steve wondered when Owens would release the official list of “fire” casualties. When the funerals for all the flayed would begin. If Max would let him come to the funeral, if only because Billy had protected the kids when Steve couldn’t.

Steve winced, physically trying to shake away the memories of black goo and even darker blood staining bright tiles. “No, it wasn’t a fight.”

Eddie didn’t say anything for a while. Steve tracked him as he slid out from between Steve and the tree, putting just enough space between them that Steve couldn’t throw a punch—that was scarily intentional like Eddie still wasn’t sure Steve wouldn’t fight him.

“I burnt down the mall,” Steve found himself blurting out before he could stop it. He wanted Eddie to trust him; didn’t want to spend the night alone after finding the one person who wouldn’t judge him for this. Because Eddie was the town freak, the guy that everyone avoided unless they wanted some half-decent drugs to take to the latest party. Eddie spent his entire middle and high school careers being laughed at and teased for being odd, surely he’d understand Steve doing the same now. Maybe he was the only one who would understand, not without being too concerned about Steve’s well-being, that is. 

Steve couldn’t go to the kids or Robin, didn’t want to burden them after they’d all suffered just as much as he did that night. He didn’t want to see their worried expressions every time they hung out. But Eddie Munson? Eddie Munson hated Steve Harrington. That was just a fact of life. Eddie could hear whatever it was Steve had to say tonight and would never give him that look, would never hover like he was trying to figure out how to baby Steve.

No, they could just talk. In the woods. Then part ways like it had never happened at all.

“I didn’t, I didn’t actually burn the mall down. But I was in it, when it did. Got beat to hell trying to get out.”

“Shit, Harrington, that’s fucked up.” A pause. “I flunked summer school. Senior year part three coming to theatres this August,” Eddie voiced from somewhere to the left of Steve as Steve leaned his back on the tree he’d once slammed Eddie against.

“Well, you might be the lucky one, I’d go back to high school if I could,” Steve scoffed.

“What? Don’t like working for Harrington & Harrington?”

Steve rolled his neck so he could face Eddie, seeing the way the other guy had sat himself down on a large rock not too far from Steve. “You really don’t know? My dad didn’t want me working at his firm, so I worked in the mall, at Scoops Ahoy,” Steve deadpanned.

“The ice cream place?”

“Yep.”

“The one with the sailor’s outfits? The stupid little hat and those tight shorts? That Scoops Ahoy?” Eddie pressed, an amused smile pulling on his lips.

Steve rolled his eyes, reaching out to shove Eddie’s shoulder lightly. “Fuck off, man. Yes, the one with the sailor outfit.”

“I can’t believe I missed my chance to see Steve Harrington in a sailor costume,” Eddie teased, pulling out a cigarette from a box that had seen better days. “Still have it?”

“Sure,” Steve shrugged, thinking about the pile of clothes he’d tossed in the corner of his room, the same corner he hadn’t quite been able to look at since. “Covered in blood, but yeah I still have it.”

Steve looked ahead, eyes scanning the space between the trees for any signs of an ill-fitting shadow, anything that might give away one of the Russian soldiers who’d found him in such a vulnerable location. When Eddie didn’t say anything though, Steve tore his gaze from the trees to look to his side, finding Eddie just looking at him. It was hard to tell in the dark, the trees lit up only by the light of the full moon above them, but Steve could just make out eyebrows pulled close together and lips tensed around the cigarette, not breathing in but just letting it rest there. “What?” Steve finally pressed when he still didn’t speak.

“You really got messed up in that fire, huh, Harrington?”

It wasn’t expected, though Steve supposed maybe that was Eddie Munson’s whole thing. No one ever knew what to expect from him in school—he was loud, he antagonized all the jocks like if maybe he fought them first he wouldn’t be their target, he wore strange clothes and listened to loud music Steve had never heard of before. He wasn’t what anyone expected, truly, and maybe that was a good thing, now. Eddie’s brown eyes stared right at Steve, a heavy look in them with just enough hints of sadness that made Steve think the guy realized what happened was more than a fire.

So Steve huffed out a laugh, swiping his hand through his hair and only wincing a little when the finger that scary doctor had messed with caught on some of the strands. “Yeah, I did.” Brief thoughts of NDAs and not-so-subtle threats flashed through Steve’s mind before he considered that maybe being in military custody would be a good thing if only to be protected from the people who could be looking for him and Robin. “It sounds like bullshit,” he began, the word souring on his tongue, “I know that, but it wasn’t just a fire.”

“Fires usually don’t beat people up.”

“Yeah,” Steve chuckled, letting his head fall forward to stare at his hands, some of his untamed hair falling into his vision, “guess so.”

“I’m pretty good at keeping secrets, Harrington,” Eddie piped up. “People tend to trust the town freak. Who am I gonna tell?” In the same way Steve had cringed saying bullshit, Eddie’s voice seemed to curl around the word ‘freak’ like it was a fate he was simply resigned to. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Crazier than Steve “The Hair” Harrington working at a mall ice cream shop?”

“You’re not gonna let that one go are you?” Steve laughed, the sound vibrating in his chest and warming up the piece of him that hadn’t quite thawed from the chilled Russian labs.

“Not likely.”

Steve wanted to tell someone else. The words sat right behind his lips, aching to slip out. It would be so easy to turn to Eddie, this man he had no prior connection to, someone he didn’t have to worry about getting involved in any of this and let it all out. There were Russians in Hawkins. Robin Buckley and I were interrogated because they thought we were American spies. It could’ve been a lot worse if two middle schoolers hadn’t risked their asses to save us.

Yet. No matter how hard Steve tried, despite every time he parted and then closed his lips in an attempt to work out the words, nothing would come out. Eddie didn’t say anything either, sometimes looking over and watching Steve’s profile and other times leaning fully back against the large rock he’d found and tilting his head back to look at the stars. Steve found himself joining him, having to press close to Eddie to fit his back against the rock too. His entire left side was pressed to Eddie’s right, hands dropped loosely in his lap. 

Neither of them spoke again, but Steve didn’t mind. After the heavy questioning from Owens and his team the previous night, from the talks with Robin about what they were going to do and how’d they’d be okay again, it was relieving to be able to turn his brain off for a moment. He could just relax, knowing there was another person beside him while he counted as many stars as he could before his mind lost track. It wasn’t until the dark sky began to brighten to a dim navy blue as the first signs of daylight peeked through that either of them moved.

“See you ‘round, Harrington,” Eddie spoke, both of them wincing and stretching out sore muscles and joints as they climbed to their feet.

“Yeah,” Steve echoed, “see you around, Munson.”

TWO DAYS POST-STARCOURT—AWAKE 36 HOURS

At first, Steve blamed his inability to sleep on his injuries. The entire side of his face burned from the number of punches that had been dealt by the Russians, and both his wrists were still rubbed raw from the restraints. Everything hurt, so Steve found himself avoiding the touch of sheets and pillows no matter the thread count.

It wasn’t the nightmares, no. It wasn’t the fact that Steve felt like he had eyes on him all the time—shoulders curled in and a nail bat clutched tightly in his hand the entire day. It only got worse when the sun finally set, when darkness shrouded the house and the artificial lights created nightmarish shadows that had Steve jumping when he caught them in the corner of his eye. Every sound could have been the click of a gun’s safety or the murmur of soldiers looking to take back their caught American spy. He could hear the commander’s words ringing clearly in his head, lobbing taunts of Well, Butterscotch? after each punch, each threat to his safety.

Steve knew it wasn’t over. Owens had admitted as such, giving him and Robin each a way to contact him if anything happened. If anything happened. Owens wouldn’t say exactly what could happen, but what else was there? When they hadn’t caught many of the soldiers at all, when there was no proof that the people who knew his identity hadn’t been destroyed in the aftermath of the machine’s destruction, how could anything but Steve’s recapture be the end result?

So Steve sat on the couch, leg bouncing rapidly as he looked around the room. He sat guard stiffly, every muscle in his body wound tightly, fingers curled around the nail bat. 

It wasn’t clear how long he sat like that—the minutes and hours slipping together as his vision blurred out, his mind too focused to fall asleep but too exhausted to fully pay attention. When he finally clicked back into place, his eyes refocusing and his mind coming back to the present, Steve found himself standing. He started walking out the door, leaving the bat behind and instead grabbing his car keys.

He went through the same routine as the night before—driving past Robin’s house, Dustin’s, and Erica’s, all making sure that none of them were hurt while they got the rest they needed. Ultimately, though, Steve found himself back in the woods, blinking past the fatigue beginning to set in and carving a familiar path to that large rock he’d watched the stars with Eddie Munson with.

The next day, it almost felt like a dream. Like if he really focused in, there was no way that he could have spent an entire night with Eddie without either of them antagonizing the other. The old him might have laughed it off, might have made fun of him for even considering the idea. But Steve could still hear Dustin’s voice as the kid reminded him he wasn’t in high school anymore, Robin’s as she told him he’d been a dick in school but simultaneously trusted him with a major secret that she hadn’t told anyone else before.

And maybe it did make sense, a little. Because Eddie had been exactly what Steve had needed that night. He’d been patient, he’d laughed and joked and never pushed for more information than Steve was willing to give. It had been nice, not having to worry about how he was acting to not make the person he was with concerned.

Maybe that was why Steve found himself sitting leaning against that rock again, head tilted back to look up at the stars. He half-expected the Russians to jump him at that moment, for them to grab his ankles and pull, to wrench his arms behind his back and wrap heavy restraints around them again. Instead, he heard a familiar voice.

“No sleep tonight, Harrington?”

Steve shrugged, turning his head to see Eddie making his way through the trees to sit beside him. He was wearing a tee this time, imprinted with the logo of that weird club that Chrissy Cunningham said the cheer team thought could be a satanic cult. Hellfire Club. It wasn’t doing Eddie any favors with the town, naming his club that. Though Steve supposed it wasn’t likely the school would have approved anything dangerous. All the rumors, the whispers about rituals and fires and sacrifices, it was all like everything else from Hawkins High had been. 

Bullshit.

“Maybe I’d rather spend tonight with good company,” Steve answered, grinning as Eddie pressed close the same way he had the previous night. 

“Tell me when you find it, big boy,” Eddie laughed, also reclining his head to look up at the stars. “Still the fire?”

Steve turned his head, feeling the coolness of the rock chill his temple. “Why’re you out here?”

“Can’t sleep,” Eddie answered simply, shrugging a little and making one of the excess zippers on his jacket scrape harshly on the rock. “You’re the one crashing the party, Harrington. I’ve been coming out here for months.”

“It’s peaceful,” Steve replied, sneaking one more glimpse at Eddie’s profile lit up by the moonlight before looking back to the sky. “I shouldn’t like the woods. Used to be terrified of them, of what could be out here.”

“Scared of the big bad wolf?” Eddie teased, though the smile slipped slightly when Steve didn’t answer right away. “Let me guess, I wouldn’t believe you if you told me?”

“I should hate the woods,” Steve repeated instead of answering. “It’s better than being at the house, just waiting like a sitting duck. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I just keep waiting for them to come back.”

“Them?”

“The Ru—There were people at the mall. It sounds batshit, but I saw something I shouldn’t’ve. I think...I can’t shake this feeling that...” Steve tried, hands twisting in each other as he fought for the right words to hand Eddie.

Luckily, the man seemed to get it on his own. “Shit, Harrington. You in some kinda trouble?”

“Yeah, yeah I guess I am,” Steve laughed a little manically, running a hand harshly through his hair and trying to calm his heart rate again. “Every corner I turn, every shadow, everything, I think it’s them. I know it’s them. It’s not over.”

“These people, they’re the ones who fucked up your face?” Eddie asked, his head turned to fully watch Steve now. Steve still watched the sky, unable to bear noticing the expression on Eddie’s face now.

He could tell him everything. Eddie was taking it well so far, he could probably handle knowing about Russians and demodogs and secret middle schoolers with freaky mind powers. Except. Except Steve would never forgive himself if anything happened to someone else. He’d already roped Robin into this mess. She hadn’t been friends with him for more than a month before she was getting interrogated and drugged by fucking Soviets, what makes him think that letting Eddie in would end up any better?

So he sighed, shrugged again because that seemed to be all he was capable of anymore, and said, “Yeah, I guess.”

They didn’t talk for several more minutes, simply coexisting in this little clearing that seemed cut out from the rest of the world. Here, there were no demogorgons stalking his pool, no Russian soldiers who were out looking for him. Here, it was just Steve and Eddie, watching the moon cross the sky and ignoring the slight chill that rose goosebumps over their skin.

“You ever think of getting out of here?” Steve broke the silence, taking the offered cigarette from Eddie’s hand, fingers brushing over his in a way that definitely didn’t make Steve’s cheeks heat up. “Just packing up a car, driving without any real destination in mind? I mean, there’s gotta be some good stuff to see outside of Hawkins. This can’t be it.”

“Every day of my goddamn life, Harrington, look who you’re talking to,” Eddie laughed. “There’s nothing here for me, never has been. Except my Uncle Wayne, but I know he’d leave in a second too.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed a little mindlessly, voice softer as he considered it. It would be too easy to leave, packing only the necessities and taking off in the Beemer before anyone who would care was even awake. He’d call Robin and Dustin from a payphone, and let them know he wasn’t dead in some Soviet lab before taking off to...well, anywhere, he supposed. “Where would you go, if you could?”

“Seattle,” Eddie answered immediately. “Get far away from Indiana, find the music scene. You?”

“I dunno. Everywhere, I guess. Start here and just drive to the west coast. Hit all the silly tourist attractions along the way and end up at the ocean.” Steve turned to look at Eddie then, only to find brown eyes already looking at him. Their faces against the rock were so close to each other that Steve’s eyes went a little crossed, having to blink to refocus on Eddie’s features. “You could come with me, you know. Seattle could be fun.”

“You asking me to run away with you, big boy?”

“Only for practical reasons, of course,” Steve teased, unable to help licking his lips as Eddie’s eyes flashed down to them. “But we’re listening to my music.”

“Like hell,” Eddie protested, eyes lighting up like they had their own fire source within. “I’m not listening to Wham! and Tears for Fears on repeat.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know George Michael is a gift to this Earth.”

“Sure, you say that now until I show you real music,” Eddie pressed.

“Yeah? You gonna make me listen to Blacktallica and Metal Sabbath?” Steve asked, smirking as Eddie gasped and spluttered.

“What? It’s Black Sabbath and Met—you were joking,” he corrected himself as Steve burst out laughing. Steve sat up, hands wrapped around his middle as the laughs quaked through him. It had been since before he’d heard the Russian message Dustin had intercepted that he’d laughed this hard, the sounds jerking his body and tearing the breath right out of him. “C’mon, you could’ve been serious! I wouldn’t put anything past you, Harrington.”

“I’m not that out of touch,” Steve wheezed as the laughs began to finally die off, “I just wanted to see your face.”

“You’re an ass,” Eddie laughed, sitting up too and shoving Steve’s arm without any real force behind it.

“So I’ve been told.”

Eddie looked at him for a moment, eyes flicking down to Steve’s lips again—why does he keep doing that?—before looking back up to meet his gaze. “You’re better, like this. Man, if this is how you were in school we could’ve, I don’t know, been friends or something crazy.”

Steve huffed out a breath, forcing himself to not take his eyes off Eddie’s. “Hey, it wasn’t all me. You wouldn’t have befriended the varsity all-star, Munson. Admit it.”

“You don’t know that. Maybe I would’ve. Maybe I would’ve worn your varsity jacket to all your games,” Eddie teased, and Steve was sure he wasn’t imagining their faces getting closer, like some kind of force was pulling them together.

“Yeah? We can still make that happen, I still have it somewhere,” Steve answered softly, biting his lip once Eddie’s face grew so close he could feel the other man’s breath against his skin.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Harrington?” Eddie made the final move, pressing his lips to Steve’s. It was soft at first, barely there like Eddie was testing the waters, like he was waiting for Steve to return the gesture. And oh did Steve return it, surging forward to hold onto the side of Eddie’s face, where his jaw met his neck to press him even closer. It seemed to give Eddie all the permission he needed, because then Steve could feel ringed hands on his back, pulling him forward until he was practically in Eddie’s lap, legs straddling Eddie’s. 

The kiss probably only lasted a few moments, but to Steve, it felt like a lifetime. This was Eddie Munson after all, this was a guy. This was the kind of kiss Steve had thought about for years, the kind of kiss he never thought he’d get but one he hoped for, someday. This was everything he could ever want and more, and Steve would sooner asphyxiate than end it.

Eddie pulled away first, looking as shocked and breathless as Steve felt. “Steve Harrington,” he mouthed silently like he couldn’t quite believe it either.

“Eddie Munson,” Steve whispered, dropping his head once the eye contact grew to be too much all at once.

“I should get back. Wayne’ll be wondering where I’m at,” Eddie finally spoke up once their breaths evened out. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine,” Steve answered quickly, automatically. He rose to his feet, spending his time worrying over a pull in his shirt rather than on Eddie also gathering himself just steps away. It was better that way than to consider what had just happened—than considering that Steve really wanted to ask Eddie to stay. “You should go. Yeah.”

“This doesn’t have to be—” Eddie paused, seemingly gathering his words before he finished. “You know where I am. You can always come by, if you need someone.”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve nodded, “You too. I mean, you know, if you happen to need someone too. Have a goodnight, Eddie.”

“Get some sleep, Steve, pretty boys like you need their beauty rest.”

As Eddie walked away, Steve couldn’t help but feel like he was on the verge of something big, something important.

3 DAYS POST-STARCOURT—AWAKE 60 HOURS

Steve Harrington was sure he was losing his mind.

Everything began to look like the Russians, shadows morphing into men with violent hands and cold stares. He’d hardly moved from the couch, hands gripping the nail bat like it was a lifeline. Robin had tried to come by during the day, knocking and asking about how he was healing. Steve hadn’t the heart to open the door lest she sees him as he was now—deep dark circles under his eyes, unruly hair he hadn’t tried to tame in days, wrinkled clothing he hadn’t changed since the last night he’d spent with Eddie.

Eddie.

Steve hoped the other man wasn’t mad at him for missing last night. He couldn’t bring himself to leave the house anymore, not when every step outside meant one step closer to the men who could grab him and take him across the world where no one would ever find him. People would eventually forget about Steve Harrington while he suffered, all because that commander wouldn’t believe he was just a mall worker. 

It was too much for one person to handle, much less to burden anyone else with. Eddie had been looking for more, Steve could see it in those brown eyes after they’d kissed. He would’ve seen this eventually, would have to be told everything. And Steve, Steve couldn’t do that to him. Not when he looked so kind, not when his kiss lit something up in Steve that had laid dormant all his life. Not when he suddenly became important, special. 

It was better this way. Eddie off making music with his friends, and Steve here, waiting for a fight he knew was bound to come.

The knock on the door signaled the end Steve knew was coming, the end he’d been waiting three days for.

His head whipped to the side, hands beginning to shake as his body pumped itself full of more adrenaline than it knew what to do with. He’d heard Hopper and Joyce’s brief recap of their fight with the Russians before everything went wrong, how Hopper had to fight some Russian assassin because he’d gotten too close. How he seemed normal at first, how he’d been stealthy and unassuming before it all turned horribly bad. 

What if they sent another one?

Steve rose to his feet slowly, bringing the bat up ready to swing at a moment’s notice as he crept toward the front door. What would everyone say, when they came looking for him? Would it be Robin who found the scene first, looking for her coworker but instead only finding evidence of a fight? Would they know what happened or where to even begin looking for him?

The second he reached out to unlock the door, it was beginning to open. The person hardly waited, already moving to enter the house. 

Steve made his move.

He screamed wildly, swinging the bat at the opening in the door with as much strength as he could muster from his exhausted and sore body. This was not how he would go out, not after everything they’d all survived through. It would not be Russians with some strange vendetta, some commander who thought he had more information than he did.

It would not end in this house, where Steve had already felt like he’d died several times over from the loneliness, emptiness.

No, here he would fight. He would make it hurt, and he would win.

Except, Steve was pretty sure Russian assassins don’t shriek like that—high-pitched and a little wild, shouting ‘Jesus H. Christ, Harrington!’ loud enough to alert the neighbors.

The shout tore Steve out of it, all adrenaline rushing out of his bones the second his eyes focused on who was standing in his house, beside a door with the nail bat lodged firmly in it. 

He’d nearly killed Eddie Munson.

“Oh shit,” Steve gasped, heart rate picking up again as what he’d done finally seeped in. He’d nearly killed someone, nearly killed Eddie, simply because he’d been so fearful of the Russians hunting him down. “I’m sorry, I thought you, I, it’s, I’m sorry.”

“Why do you have that?” Eddie shouted, voice still raised up a pitch in his fear and shock. “What are you doing?”

“It’s—” Steve sighed, knowing there was no explanation worthy of what had just happened. “—a long story.”

“No shit, Steve!” Eddie paced the entryway then, looking up at Steve each time he passed. Steve let it happen, standing still and hardly daring to breathe as he gave Eddie the time to process his near-death.

Finally, Eddie stopped right in front of him, looking serious as he asked, “When was the last time you slept?”

And that, well, that was a good question, wasn’t it? Steve shrugged, looking up to the ceiling only long enough for him to find the answer. “Friday morning.”

“What?” Eddie shrieked, his nervous energy appearing again. “Steve, it’s Monday.”

“Huh,” Steve answered a little breathlessly, eyebrows lifting in surprise. Honestly, he hadn’t thought to keep track of the days, simply existing in the space of daytime and nighttime, the danger running constantly through each of them. 

“You need sleep. Right now,” Eddie demanded.

“I’d love to, but it’s not that easy. I can’t.” Everything was happening all at once. He’d nearly hurt Eddie, and fuck what if that had been one of the kids? What if it had been Dustin or Robin? What if it was someone who wasn’t as fast, who couldn’t move out of the way before Steve’s strike found its way home?

God, he needed to sleep.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, Eddie,” Steve forced out. “They’re gonna, they’re bad, okay? Those people. They think I know shit and I don’t, I don’t know anything, and I can’t sleep because what if that’s when they come back?” Everything rushed out in one breath, Steve panting after the admission like it had sapped all energy out of him.

Eddie just looked at him for a long moment, considering. Then, quicker than lightning, he was grabbing Steve’s wrist and tugging him toward the stairs after kicking the front door closed. “C’mon.”

“Um.” Steve tried, not sure what was happening or why Eddie was seemingly ignoring his admission. He was sure Eddie’d never been in the house before, but the other man moved comfortably like he’d been here many times. “What are. What are you doing?”

“Which one’s your room?” Eddie asked instead, glancing back at Steve for the answer.

“Uh, second door on the right. Are you gonna tell me wha—”

“Bed. Now.” Eddie demanded once he threw open the right door, gesturing with one hand toward the unmade bed.

“What?” Steve asked, not moving from the doorway like he wasn’t meant to be in the house, like it wasn’t his own damn bedroom. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

“You’re sleeping,” Eddie answered simply. “You’ll go crazy if you keep this up. Get some sleep, I’ll watch out for you. Nothing’ll happen, I promise, just rest.”

It was sincere in a way not many people had been with him as of late. Steve found his eyes began watering at the sentiment, wondering when Eddie had grown to care about him so much that he was willing to sit in an empty boring house just so Steve could sleep.

“I—thanks,” Steve answered softly, dutifully slipping off his shoes and climbing slowly into bed. “Can you...Can you stay?” He asked as Eddie began to slip out of the room. “Just until I fall asleep?”

Eddie’s expression softened then, cracking into something that almost looked like affection. “Sure, Steve. I’ll stay,” he answered just as softly, slipping off his shoes and walking over to the other side of the bed. His movements were hesitant as he got into bed beside Steve, resting his back on the headboard and looking to Steve as if waiting for some kind of permission.

And well, Steve might have been more subtle if he’d had more sleep and if his mind was able to think about anything except how exhausted it was and how comfortable Eddie’s stomach looked. But he didn’t, so Steve found himself snuggling further into the bed so he could rest his head on Eddie’s middle, feeling his head rise and fall with the even breaths Eddie took. He wrapped one arm and one leg over him too, like he was trying to keep Eddie in place. 

“This okay?” he murmured into the other man’s shirt, already feeling his eyes drifting closed.

Eddie’s hand found Steve’s hair. It was gentle, careful at first before he gained more confidence, brushing through Steve’s hair in a soothing pattern. It was the safest Steve had felt in days. And sure, Eddie wasn’t anymore a match for a Russian assassin than Steve was, but knowing that someone was there looking out for him had Steve’s body finally giving in to the exhaustion it felt. He could trust Eddie to watch over him, to make sure he’d be okay eventually.

As Steve finally began to drift off, he thought he heard Eddie whisper, “It’s more than okay, Harrington.”

And then Steve slept.

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[imnotoverlyobsessive]

In Your Dreams

Moodboard by @softhecreator

Chapter One: Dreams of You & Me

AO3 info one two three four five six seven epilogue

All my work is 18+.

Everybody knows something I don’t wanna know, so I’ll stay right here ‘cause I’m better all alone, yeah, I’m better all alone. Look, I am not a woman, I’m a god. I am not a martyr, I’m a problem. I am not a legend, I’m a fraud, so keep your heart ‘cause I already got one.- Halsey, I am not a woman, I’m a god

Tim was, overall, a very odd dude. This wasn’t terribly surprising, because he was probably some sort of Otherworlder (she was thinking fae; lots of celebrities were fae), but still.

Lea had met him a few months shy of her twentieth birthday when she was tailoring a suit for some fancy event or other. Much to her astonishment-slash-horror, he’d asked her out. Thankfully, he’d made no advances since then. Unless one counted taking her out to dinner and giving her presents and stuff, but like, he was so rich that she figured it was just the sort of thing guys like him did.

So whatever. 

And okay, maybe most twenty-year-old girls would kill to have a movie star ask them out, especially one they were so attracted to. But Lea did not want attraction. She didn’t want love or sex.

Well, alright. She wanted those things. Very much so, in fact. But she didn’t want to want them. Her mom had wanted them, and her dad provided, and then he’d beaten the hell out of her until she finally kicked him out when Lea was three. She and her two sisters had subsequently been raised in as male-free an environment as possible: all-girls schools and absolutely no boys (not that that’d ever stopped her younger sister, Ari, from sneaking out to meet them, but Lea was too anxious and terrified of boys for that, and their older sister, Lina, was a lesbian, so she wasn’t interested in them, anyway).

In any case, she was better off alone. That’s just how it was. It’s how it was meant to be.

Until it wasn’t.

Until it fucking wasn’t.

Lea got confirmation that Tim was an Otherworlder the first time she saw him appear out of nowhere in a puff of black smoke.

She was sitting on her couch in her shoebox New York City apartment, eating chow mein takeout in her pajamas and going over her Intro To Cinema Studies homework.

And then there was a crack! and black smoke filled the tiny living room.

Lea’s head snapped up, and she found none other than her weirdo best friend sauntering towards her fridge.

“Tim, what the hell?” she demanded after several beats of shocked silence.

He spun on his heels, one of those terribly disarming, heart-stopping grins on his too-perfect face.

Lea steadfastly ignored the thumping of her heart in her chest.

“Did I surprise you? My bad,” he told her, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.

She glowered at him. “I’m doing homework!”

He shrugged, sauntering over to her. “Which class?”

Lea finished the last of her chow mein and sat back. “Cinema Studies. Never mind that, though— what’s up with the appearing-out-of-thin-air-in-a-puff-of-smoke thing?”

He tensed as he sat down beside her on the couch, which was really more of a loveseat.

When he didn’t say anything, she added, “Dude, I don’t care if you’re an Otherworlder. It’s fine. Just, like… be honest with me about it, y’know?” She smiled encouragingly. “Don’t wanna have any freaky fae shit used on me.”

He stared at her for a long while before saying, very softly, “I wouldn’t use anything on you unless you asked.”

“Thanks, I guess,” she hummed. “You not gonna tell me what you are, then?”

“Uh…” He scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Not… not yet, no. Is that okay?”

Lea shrugged. “It’s your choice. Figured I’d need to sign an NDA or something.”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t…” he trailed off momentarily. “I know you wouldn’t say anything to anyone.”

She gave him a small smile. “Yeah.”

He gave her another heart-stopping grin, and she tried to ignore the way her heart stuttered.

The birthmark—the one that was pink and raised, like a scar, lines crisscrossing each other to form a star with eight points—on her hip burned. She scratched it mindlessly.

“How old are you, anyway?” Lea asked idly one day in between back-and-forth popcorn tosses on his fancy rich boy couch.

Tim paused momentarily, then resumed chewing.

She tried very hard not to stare at the way his jaw moved when he chewed. She was successful. Mostly, anyway.

He swallowed, and she also mostly succeeded at not staring at the way his throat looked during that action (absolute harlotry on his part, really, if you think about it). “Uhhhhhh…” he trailed off, raking a hand through his curls and pursing his lips in thought.

She wondered if they tasted like popcorn. 

No, bad Lea, no kissing thoughts, bad, bad, very bad—

After a few beats of him thinking, he finally shrugged and said, “No clue,” before resuming eating his popcorn.

She stared at him. “You… don’t know how old you are?”

He shook his head. “I remember stuff.” Another pause. “But you kinda just stop counting after awhile, y’know?”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I guess that makes sense.” Then, “What sort of things do you remember?”

“Mostly boring stuff,” he admitted with a rueful smile, “but some cool stuff, too.”

“Like what?”

Tim looked at her thoughtfully for a long moment. “Maybe I’ll tell you someday.” She pouted, and he laughed. “Don’t make that face!”

“Why not?” she whined, deliberately intensifying her pout, sticking her lower lip out even further.

He shot her that grin again, the one that simultaneously gave her heart wings and weighed it down, and then he reached over and poked both her cheeks. “‘Cause when you make that face, it makes me wanna give you anything you ask me for, which is dangerous.” He said the last word in a baby voice.

Lea rolled her eyes, swatting his hands away. “I’m not dangerous, stupid,” she muttered, a light dusting of red permeating her cheeks at his touch.

He grinned again, leaning back on the arm of his couch. “If you say so.”

Tim was a touchy-feely guy. Like. Really touchy-feely. He spent a lot of time holding her hand or cuddling with her on one of his sixteen bazillion couches (fuckin’ rich boy, man). Sometimes even both. Like, at the same time. 

Her friends didn’t believe her when she insisted it was platonic. But like, if it wasn’t, if he had feelings for her, he totally would’ve said something, right? He absolutely, 100% would’ve made a move. He’d never mentioned it, never talked about his dating life, but she was certain he knew what he was doing in that regard. Movie stars—not that he ever called himself that; in fact, he was extremely uncomfortable with the term, but he was one whether he was comfortable with it or not—really got around, didn’t they? She was pretty sure they did. And one as sweet as him, as gorgeous and perfect as him, not to mention dripping sex appeal like he’d taken a goddamn bath in the stuff.

It was a good thing that his feelings for her were platonic, though. It wasn’t like she had feelings for him or anything. 

Okay, so maybe she had feelings for him. Big whoop. It was Timothée fucking Chalamet, of course she had feelings for him. He was an orgasm with legs, so she really couldn’t be blamed for the amount of staring she did.

On the plus side, though, she was pretty good at not letting her interest in—or intense and very sexual desire for—him show in her facial expressions or actions. Other than the staring, of course, which again, she could not be blamed for.

All in all, she was getting by decently well despite her stupid feelings that were doing their damnedest to fuck up the first friendship she’d ever had with any guy ever.

And then the dreams started.

She was dreaming. She knew she was. It was a lucid dream, which she’d only had a couple of times before. 

It was a strange one, lucid dream or no; she was at Tim’s apartment, sitting next to him on one of his sectional couch in his living room. Something she didn’t recognize was playing on the TV, and it was dark outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. It wasn’t a memory, but rather something her imagination must’ve come up with.

“This is a weird dream,” Lea observed.

He grinned at her. “And why is that?”

“I don’t usually dream myself at other people’s houses,” she said with a shrug. “But maybe dream-Tim will be up for things real-Tim isn’t.”

“I think you’d be surprised what I’m up for,” he chuckled.

“In general?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Yeah, probably. But with me… no, I don’t think so.”

Tim draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her up against him. “And what would you like dream-Tim to do with you that you are under the mistaken impression that real-Tim would not do with you?”

She laughed, nestling in closer to him. “Just this is nice for now.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a smile. “I like being close to you.”

“You’re the cuddliest motherfucker on the face of the earth, I know,” Lea giggled. “I’d never tell you this, but I’ve always thought that was really cute about you, even though it makes me nervous.”

His arm tightened around her. “Why does it make you nervous?”

“Because I’ve got a big fat crush on you, idiot. You’re in my head, you should know this.”

“Why don’t you tell me, then?” he wanted to know.

“Few reasons—though, again, you should know them since I made this version of you up, but whatever, I’ll tell you anyway—I don’t like the idea of being rejected, and I don’t want anybody having that sort of power over me. Not that it’d work between us, anyway.”

He hummed, considering her words. “You have a lot of power over me, too, y’know.” He ran a hand through her curls momentarily. “And I wouldn’t reject you. No clue where you got the impression I’d reject you.”

“You’re just saying what’ll make me happy,” she pointed out. “I know the real you wouldn’t want me like that. We’re friends, but that’s as good as it’s gonna get. You’d never want somebody like me.”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t? You’re amazing.” She laughed at that, closing her eyes and enjoying the feeling of his hand on her arm. “You are!” he insisted. “You’re smart, you’re funny, not to mention unbelievably gorgeous—“

“I am not,” she snorted. “Except for the funny part. You’re right about that; I’m hilarious. But the other stuff? Nah. Not to somebody like you.”

“I dunno what you mean by somebody like me,” Tim started, “but you are very intelligent, which I think you know, and—“

“Okay,” she conceded, “I guess I’m okay as far as intelligence goes, but I’m certainly not gorgeous. At least not by the standards you’re used to.”

“Lea,” he said slowly, “you are hands down the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

She snorted again. “I really like this version of you I’ve dreamed up, I gotta say. But no, to the real you, I’m not.” He was about to say something, but she continued, “Since I made you up, though, hopefully you won’t mind if I cuddle you as much as I like.”

“I’d never mind that,” he promised. “I wouldn’t even mind if you wanted to do more than just cuddle me, whether you’re dreaming or not.”

She draped her arm across his chest. “Yeah, I really like this version of you,” she sighed contentedly. “All of your sexiness and sweetness, none of the lack of attraction to girls like me.”

“I don’t know what you mean by girls like you, but…” He paused before taking her hand in his. “This isn’t me pressuring you. I just want to show you what you do to me.” With that, he brought her hand down and pressed it against his—

Holy fuck, this is a dope-ass dream.

When she looked up at him in shock, he smiled and said, “I’m like this a lot when we’re together. Having you so close and not being able to touch you the way I really want to isn’t easy.” He bit his lower lip, his eyes falling to her cleavage. “Especially when you look the way you look.”

She swallowed, anxious even asleep. “This is a dream, so you’ll do anything I want you to do, right? You’ll be okay with whatever I want?”

His eyes snapped back up to hers. “Well, yeah, of course, but I don’t wanna take advantage of you—“

“I think it’s probably closer to me taking advantage of you,” she pointed out, “but I can’t do this any other way, so…”

With that, she kissed him. He was frozen for a few seconds, but then he groaned and turned towards her more, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her up against him.

She had never kissed anyone before in real life, but this was a dream, and dream-Tim seemed to like the way she moved her lips over his.

He seemed surprised when she climbed into his lap to straddle him, panting into his mouth before pulling away and yanking her shirt over her head.

“Lea,” he said shakily, “what’re you doing?” His hands ran up her sides slowly, as if he were reluctant to touch her. “Fucking hell, your tits, fuck—“

“I can’t have you in real life,” she explained, rocking her hips forward to feel his hardness between her legs. “If this is all I’m ever gonna have, I want as much as I can get.”

“You can have me anywhere you want me, sweetheart,” Tim said hoarsely as she ground against him. “Do… do you really want me to…?”

There was no point in being shy in a dream, so she reached around her back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall onto the rug with her shirt. “Please, Timothée.”

He trailed his hands up her sides to cup her breasts, squeezing them gently. “Fuck, Lea, you’re so beautiful.”

She wasn’t entirely sure how it happened, but the next thing she knew, they were both naked on the couch, and she was rubbing her wetness over his length, moaning into his mouth as she did so. She’d dreamed up piercings for him she hadn’t known existed— multiple metal bars along the underside of his shaft and one directly beneath his tip. This was a strange thing to imagine, but she wasn’t about to question it. 

“I want it,” she begged desperately. “Please, I want you so bad, I’m always so empty, and it won’t even hurt ‘cause it’s not real, please—“

“If you’re sure,” Tim said hastily, reaching down to align himself with her. “Sink down onto me, baby, c’mon.”

It was hazy from there, likely because Lea had never actually had sex and therefore didn’t know how it was supposed to feel, but she knew it was desperate and hungry and passionate, and that he’d given her so many orgasms she couldn’t possibly have counted them.

The dream morphed into another one. She found herself in what appeared to be a closet, though she didn’t recognize it.

Tim was behind her, kissing her neck and pulling down her panties. “You were so gorgeous today,” he murmured in her ear. “I think they were looking at you more than me.”

“Who was?” Lea asked, confused. “What’s going on? Where are we?”

He smirked against her skin. “It’s still a dream, sweetheart. A dream of what could be. Either way, we’re in London. We just got back from the British Film Festival.”

She blinked, turning to face him. “A. A film festival?”

“Mhm,” he confirmed with a grin. Then, taking her hand in his, he said, “C’mon, baby. I’m sure your feet are sore. Let’s get you in the bath.”

He led her across marble floors into a bathroom with a huge tub. Stripping off his clothes, he held her hand as she climbed the steps and sunk into the hot water. As she settled down, however, she realized her breasts were resting on her stomach. This was very odd indeed, because while her stomach was far from flat, it had never been big enough to support her boobs.

She glanced down, only to see that…

Holy fucking shit.

She screamed, clutching her heavily pregnant stomach. “What the fuck?”

He climbed into the tub with her and took her in his arms. “It’s alright, Lea. It’s okay.”

“How is this okay?!” she forced out. “I’m— I’m pregnant, how am I pregnant?! I know it’s a dream, but—“

“It’s just what could be,” Tim reassured her gently, taking her hand in his. 

It was then she noticed the ring on her finger.

“We’re married, too?”

“Your mind is showing you what you want,” he explained gently. “What we both want.”

“You don’t want this,” she said shakily. “The real you doesn’t want this with me.” She stared at him, his gorgeous features clearer than they’d ever been in any dream she’d ever had of him. “God, a baby?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed with a soft, gentle smile, reaching over to rub her stomach. “You’re having my baby.”

“And I went to a red carpet with you, apparently.”

“You did.”

“Why?” she finally asked.

“Because I asked you to, and you loved me enough to say yes.”

She flushed, looking down at where his hand was rubbing her stomach still. “Sounds like me, to be honest.”

He kissed her, and the dream faded away into another.

She was pregnant again, sitting on a blanket in the grass with a small child between her legs as Tim chased after a boy around ten.

“I’m gonna get you!” her dream-husband growled, his hands over his head like claws.

A third child—a girl with her hair and his eyes, somewhere around the age of six or seven—raced over to him with a screech of delight.

She held the child that sat with her closer.

When Tim looked back over at her with a grin on his face and love in his eyes, Lea realized that yeah… she wanted this. She really wanted this.

When she woke up, she was crying.

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