#and the company my dad works for may be about to shut down

[itstimeforstarwars]

Currently having a great time at work by completely giving up on giving a fuck :)

[bloodibambiidoll]

Nasty Girl ⟡˖ Older!Rafe Cameron x Perv!Reader ⟡˖

✰ Rafe is an arrogant dick, over a decade older than you and your dad’s boss, you shouldn’t want anything to do with him. So why can’t you stay away? ✰

۶♡ৎ This is a request from my angel @babygorewhore I love you sm, this one’s for you pookie ۶♡ৎ

✰ Age gap (Rafe is early 40s reader is mid 20s), Obsessive behaviors, perverted acts involving panties, gagging, choking, spit kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, pussy slapping, pillow humping, pussy eating, cum eating, size kink 18+MNDI ✰

You can’t stand Rafe Cameron. And the fact that you’re so obsessed with him only makes you hate him more. No matter how much you hated the way he walked around like he owned the world, or the rotating door of women he brings around, you can’t shake this irresistible pull he has on you. You shouldn’t feel this way, not only is Rafe a huge dick he’s also over a decade older than you and your dad’s boss. It started off small, stealing glances at him every time you visited your dad at work, dressing in your most revealing dresses and skirts to his work events, making off handed comments and brushing past him when there was clearly room to go around. It wasn’t until you caught him in a bathroom with some lanky blonde bent over the counter while noises that resembled a crow left her body that you finally lost it.

You decided to leave the company charity event early, making sure to pass Rafe’s car and leave your tiny pink thong on his side-view mirror. He wouldn’t know they were yours, but he would know that they didn’t belong to the girl he was currently balls deep inside of because you saw her coral thong pushed to the side. After that it was like you couldn’t stop. You started leaving your panties anywhere you’d think Rafe would find them. In his office on his desk or the chair, his car became a favorite, you even managed to loop one around his drink while he wasn’t looking at the country club once. After the first few pairs you started leaving dirty photos of yourself along with them. Not showing your face, of course. Just shots of your ass and tits, always matching the underwear you planned to leave. You thought about maybe just texting or even emailing them to him but your dad gave him both of those things “in case of emergency”. So you decided to do it old school and take photos on your Polaroid. It was sexier that way, anyway.

But you haven’t done anything like what you’re about to do. You’re upstairs with the sound of loud voices all drowned together barely making it through the thick, high floors beneath you. It didn’t take you long to find Rafe’s room. A double door at the end of the long hall with gold ornate knobs was very clearly the master. You also weren’t surprised he had a keypad lock on his door, especially throwing a party like this. Your dad and his coworkers are everyday businessmen to the sivlian eye but behind closed doors they’re into some pretty deep criminal shit. Luckily you already managed to break into his laptop. It was almost too easy, he navigates technology like a grandpa even though he’s only forty. You had a passing thought about teaching him a more efficient way to organize his work laptop but you quickly shut it down. You’re supposed to hate him. Even if you him to fuck you until you can hardly breathe. He had a whole entire document of passwords and key combinations and you may have written all of them down. So you easily slipped inside after entering the numbers on the keypad.

You spent some time looking around and it was about what you expected. Sleek, expensive furniture, no decorations, the white walls bare aside from a random picture of a boat near the window. It's so clean it almost seems like no one lives here but you assume that’s probably due to the cleaners. You go through his drawers, nothing of interest really, unless you count all the clothes you could potentially steal. His bathroom is just as clean as his room and you can’t help but smirk when you notice a full skin care routine sitting on his counter. So vain. But, you can’t deny a man who is invested in his hygiene is extremely sexy. You smell his expensive colognes, his body wash, even his fucking shampoo. You inhale every single one like it’s your drug of choice. Though, you’re sure they smell a million times better on his skin, mixed with his musk.

After spending some time snooping, your focus turns back to the real reason you came in here. You walk into his large walk-in closet and flick on the light. There’s a glass jewelry case in the middle, filled with designer watches, rings, chains, and sunglasses. You approach it and try to pull open the top drawer when you’re met with resistance, you notice another combination lock. But a lightbulb goes off in your head, remembering the key code marked “jewelry case” before pulling out your phone, finding the numbers and unlocking the drawer with a click. The first drawer is, as expected, more jewelry that matches the items in the display case above. The second drawer though, that’s a different story. When you slide it open instead of expensive designer, it’s filled with lace and silk.

Every single pair of your panties you’ve left for him are in this drawer, along with the Polaroids stacked neatly. Upon closer inspection you notice that they’re covered not just in your cum, but his too. It has your pussy nearly dripping, you were already wet from the minute you saw him earlier tonight but now you can feel your slick dripping down your inner thighs, causing them to stick together under your micro dress. You have to practically drag yourself away from the sight of your underwear under lock and key, almost like they’re treasure, covered in a mixture of Rafe's cum and your own.

You look around the rest of the space and the entire span of the closet is lined with his clothes hanging on wracks. One side is clearly business attire and the other is more casual. Though there isn’t a huge difference, you’ve never seen Rafe in jeans and a t-shirt. You can’t decide if the thought is more sexy or comical. It’s hard to imagine him being well, relaxed. You grab a black button up before exiting the closet, undoing the buttons as you go. A thousand dirty fantasies run through your mind as your eyes roam over the king sized bed. But there’s one you can make a reality right now. The whole reason you came in here. You grab one of his silk pillows and wrap his shirt around it before placing it in the middle of the bed. You turn around to grab your Polaroid out of your bag and then crawl onto the mattress, mounting the pillow. You don’t bother taking your fuzzy platform heels off either, he can sleep on the grime from the bottom of your shoes along with the juices from your pussy for all you care.

You start off slow, running your hands along your body, groping your tits through the faux leather of your dress, imagining that they’re Rafe’s much larger hands. It doesn’t take you long to get worked up, your juices starting to make the cloth underneath you slick. You're so wet that when you start to jerk your hips back and forth on the pillow that you practically glide. The lace of your thong gets pulled tighter, adding extra pressure to your puffy clit. Your dress rides up your hips, revealing your ass and the plush of your thighs as your hips start to speed up. Once you start to really get into it you pull your panties to the side and yank the zipper that goes all the way down the front of your dress down your chest so your tits can spill out. You switch up the movement of your hips every few moments, rotating between using the pillow for leverage and running your hands down your body.

You start to get so lost in the throes of pleasure you almost forget where you are entirely until your white sock covered shin smacks against your pink polaroid camera. You smirk to yourself in remembrance as you pluck it from the bed and turn it on. You hold it above yourself while you press your tits together and spread your legs far enough to show your mound on top of his shirt and snap a photo. You take more than one this time, using almost the entire roll taking pictures of your body from various angles. You shove your fingers in your mouth. Take photos of your tiny thong string nestled between your ass. You even take one with his shirt held up between your teeth. That ends up being the last photo because the smell of his cologne hits your nostrils and it has you inhaling deeply while your hips start to subconsciously grind down again.

Rafe practically felt like a madman as he tried for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes to get out of this conversation with your father and their business partner. Every single time he tried to slip away he was pulled back in somehow. But that didn’t stop his eyes from traveling to the tantalizing view on his phone screen every ten seconds. He felt like a cat who caught a mouse it’s been chasing for months. All without even trying. You lead yourself into a trap he didn’t even set and it couldn’t be more fucking perfect. The fact that you had no idea that his entire house was bugged with cameras that he could see directly in the palm of his hand made his cock twitch. Rafe checked his phone the minute he got the notification that someone was unlocking his bedroom door, ready to send security up there to grab a thief. But he was oh so pleasantly surprised when he saw it was you. You weren’t like any of the other girls he’s ever seen in all his time living on this island. Your platform shoes and dark make-up were utterly enticing to him and your bratty attitude made him want to bend you over his knee until you cried. He also knew you were a naughty girl, with a dirty little secret only he knew. Rafe’s obsession for you only grew by the day and now it was at an all time high.

He decided to let it play out for a bit. He watched as you surveyed his blank walls and rummaged through his drawers. Then you made your way into the bathroom and he watched as you greedily inhaled his colognes and body washes. You went into his closet and somehow unlocked his jewelry case. He’d have to figure out how you managed to learn his key codes later. His heartbeat sped up when you reached for the second drawer but the way you looked down at the trophies you had ever so graciously gifted him with elation only made his appetite for you nearly unbearable. What really sent him over the edge though was how you were currently strandling his pillow as you bucked your hips with his shirt held to your nose.

The entire scene had him losing his mind with lust and you just kept taking it further. He watched you pull your tits out, the way you took all those slutty pictures for him and he wished more than anything in the world he could turn his phone up to full volume so he could hear the pretty little moans leaving your lips. He could tell from the avid speed of your hips and the way your eyes are rolled back that you’re close to your end and he’ll be damned if he isn’t there to see it. He finally excuses himself under the guise of having to go to the bathroom and slips up the large staircase with ease.

You're so close. The pace of your hips is so quick that the entire bed shakes underneath you as delicious euphoria is seconds away. You have the corner of Rafe’s shirt grasped tightly in your fist as you hold it up to your nose. The cloth is pulled taunt against your clit just right, drool drips down your chin onto the black material as you take in Rafe’s scent. Heat washes over you and you moan with reckless abandon, too lost in your tidal wave of an orgasm to care if anyone can hear you.

“I knew you were a dirty girl, but this is even better than anything my mind ever could’a dreamed up…” The sound of Rafe’s voice makes you practically scream and you clutch his shirt over your chest on instinct. Your entire body heats as you take in his large form leaning against the closed bedroom door. His arms are crossed and he has probably the most smug smirk you’ve ever seen in your life painted on his face as he looks over at you through hooded eyes.

“Rafe! I - aren’t you supposed to be hosting a party?” You scoff and roll your eyes, clearly trying to change the subject when you’re the one who broke into his room.

“Well… you see…” Rafe stalks over to you like a predator that caught his prey and stops at the end of the bed. He places his large hands on the mattress so he can lean down only inches from your face, his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes travel down your body before connecting with your own. “This little unassuming mouse wandered into my den without even considering that I have eyes on every inch of this house.”

“How - how long have you been watching?” You clutch onto the shirt tighter, hiding your boobs and bare pussy even though he’s already seen both on multiple occasions. Something about him knowing it was you was making you suddenly nervous.

“Oh, sweetheart, I get a notification when someone opens that door… I saw everything. What do we have here?” His eyes are blue fire as they land on the Polaroids and he picks one up with delight before picking up another and another until he’s seen every single one. He sets them aside in a neat stack before abruptly gripping onto the shirt covering you and ripping it down your body with a growl. You gasp in surprise and use your arms to cover your nipples while slamming your legs shut. “Oh, no, none of that. Don’t get all shy on me now, I’ve already seen it all.” Rafe grabs the pillow and pulls it from underneath you causing you to fall backwards on the bed onto your ass. “Would you look at that…” He looks down at the pillow with hungry fascination as a low groan rumbles through his chest. You watch as he runs the pad of his finger through the creamy wetness before bringing it to his mouth and holding eye contact with you as he sucks it between his lips. His eyes immediately roll back when your taste hits his tongue. “Fuckin’ delicious. But I’m always tastin’ you secondhand.. I can’t wait to taste that sweet pussy directly from the source.”

You’re utterly stunned for a moment. You look up at him with your jaw hanging open while you do your best to cover your most intimate parts when all you want to do is throw your legs open and fully submit to him. You always told yourself if he ever caught you that you would make him work for it. But with the way he’s looking at you now? You can already feel yourself slipping and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Who - who said I was going to let you taste me? And what do you mean secondhand?” You tried to say it in a biting tone but your voice squeaks and betrays your facade immediately.

“Oh, little mouse… this little back and forth we’ve been playing has been fun and all. But now you’ve wandered right into my bed and I’m done playing games.” Rafe abruptly grabs onto your ankles, pulling you down to the edge of the bed until your feet are dangling off and you try to pull your knees together again but he grips onto them and pulls them back open. “Quit hiding from me.”

His hands grip tightly onto the meat of your thighs, the gold rings on his fingers pinching your skin in a way that has you holding back a moan. The look in Rafe’s eyes is nearly animalistic as he stares down at your puffy, wet pussy. Your little black thong pushed to the side, covered in creamy, white juices. His fingertips travel down your legs gripping hard enough to bruise with every inch. He brings his thumbs to the crevices of your thighs and presses his fingers hard on either side of your folds, pushing your pussy lips together. You can’t hold in the tiny mewl that leaves the back of your throat. He punches your slick cunt together roughly a few times before pulling you apart. Your pussy clicks for him from your wetness as he pulls you open.

“Been waiting for this moment, ya know?” Rafe runs his thumb along your slit, gathering your wetness before bringing his thumbs to rub along the sides of your lips, teasing you. “I knew it was you. I had my suspicions from the beginning. Ever since you walked in on me in the bathroom…”

“How?” Your voice is a broken whisper, any thoughts of fighting back slipping further and further from your mind. Embarrassingly enough, you feel like you could come from just this.

“Well, I was almost positive after that cute little cherry thong…” Rafe grazes over your clit for just a moment before going back to teasing you. “Earlier that day you were wearing these sexy little jeans and when you bent over I got a view of that same thong. Then, to my surprise, the very same pair ended up in my office later that day.” He presses hard on your clit, giving it a few strokes and you think his teasing has finally come to an end but as soon as it’s there, it’s gone. And he goes back to teasing your pussy tantalizingly. “But then, about a week later I saw you sneaking out of my office and I decided to let you get away with it.”

“You decided?” You push yourself up on your elbows and scoff with your eyebrow raised, your irritation with him returning. Rafe just smirks before shoving his thumb knuckle deep in your pussy and curving it against your walls. It makes your eyes roll back while you wriggle underneath him.

“Yes, princess, I decided.” His other thumb presses on your clit hard but doesn’t move. “Once I was positive it was you, I wasn’t ready for it to stop. Especially once you started leaving those little pictures for me. Who knew you were such a dirty slut.” He pulls his fingers from you before landing a harsh smack on your clit causing you to yelp.

“So you knew it was me and didn’t say anything? And then proceeded to keep them in a treasure box and jerk off all over them? Pervert.” Rafe slaps your pussy again, three times in succession.

“Stop being a fuckin’ brat. If I’m a pervert, what does that make you, huh?” He slaps your pussy even harder and then brings both of his hands down on your inner thighs with a loud smack. “Leaving me your panties, takin’ dirty photos for me, I saw you inhaling my cologne like it was a line of coke. And now I caught you in my bed, coming all over my pillow. You’re a nasty. Little. Girl.” He punctuates each word with a slap to your cunt and you can’t help but moan loudly for him.

“Yeah? Well you’re a nasty old man.” Your chest heaves but you still manage to paint a cheshire smirk on your face, your eyes twinkling with mischief as you use the last of your resolve against him.

“You know what? I’m sick of your bratty fuckin’ mouth.” Rafe grips onto the thin strings of your panties and pulls them down your legs before balling them up and shoving them in your mouth. The sudden intrusion makes you gag, but it’s not unwelcome. The act of dominance and the taste of yourself on your tongue has any and all attitude in you evaporating from your body. He grabs your chin and roughly shakes your head side to side. “That’s better. You gonna be a good girl and let me taste that perfect cunt now or do I need to beat the attitude out of you?”

You moan around the lace in your mouth and drop your knees to the sides, offering yourself to him. Rafe looks at you devilishly as he lays on his stomach on the mattress and throws your legs over his shoulders. He runs his nose along your inner thigh as he takes in your sweet scent before hovering over your pussy and inhaling deeply.

“Smell so fuckin’ sweet, bet you taste even sweeter.” The flat Rafe’s runs through your folds up to your clit before circling it a few times. He nips it with his teeth and shoves his tongue as far as it can go inside of you causing you to cry out and arch your back off the mattress.

“Quit wiggling.” Rafe growls into your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. His large hand splay on your hip, holding you down as he eats you like a man starved. He circles two fingers at your entrance before pressing them knuckle deep inside of you. He caresses your sweet spot while sucking your clit into his mouth and it has an explosion of pleasure washing over your body as your orgasm consumes you.

Rafe pulls off of you when you come down from your high and brings the fingers that were just inside you to his chin dripping with your juices. He smears it around before sucking his fingers clean, groaning like he just ate the best meal of his life. He leans forward and plucks the panties from your mouth before slamming his lips against yours. The kiss is dominating and he shoves his tongue deep into your mouth, swirling it around and coating your taste buds with your own cum. He leans back to admire you and he feels like his cock is going to burst. Your hair is a mess, your dark lipstick is smudged and slick, and the zipper on that tight little dress is barely hanging on. Your tits are on full display as you lay like a perverted little angel with your legs spread beneath him.

“God damn. I’ve gotta fuck that pussy, baby.” Rafe pulls the zipper of your dress the rest of the way down before leaning up on his knees and reaching for the buttons on his shirt. “Take that shit off. Leave the socks and shoes though.”

He licks his lips as he continues to unbutton his shirt while his eyes practically swallow you whole. You quickly rid yourself of your dress and push yourself up onto your knees to watch him undress. You have to stop yourself from jumping him when he gets his shirt all the way off, his perfectly toned body towering over you. When he gets his pants down enough to get his cock out you can’t even hold in your gasp. He’s huge. So thick you aren’t sure you could wrap a single hand around him and so long that you aren’t sure if you could take him all down your throat.

“Fuck. I don’t know if that’s going to fit…” Your eyes are the sizes of saucers as you stare at his cock with your jaw slack. Those words make Rafe feel like he’s going to go insane and his hand flies to your hair, grasping onto it at the nape of your neck and yanking your head back.

“Oh, it’ll fit.” His tongue slides over his teeth and he takes his shaft in his hand so he can rub his precum along your lips, adding to the mess. Rafe uses his grip on your head to manhandle you onto your back before throwing your legs over his shoulders. He smirks down at you while he pumps himself in his hand. “You want it?”

“Yes, fuck. I want it so bad.” You tilt your hips towards him searching for any kind of friction but his hand presses down on your hip, stilling your movements.

“Oh, come on, baby doll. You can do better than that. How bad do you want it?” He taps the head of his cock against your clit a few times before running it through your folds. You try to angle your hips to push him further inside of you and he just tuts at you like you did something naughty before pulling his cock away entirely. “Let me hear it, beg.”

“Please, daddy, I want it so bad.” Rafe breathes out heavily through his nostrils and grips onto your throat, leaning down so his face is inches from yours.

“Oh, little mouse.. you’re just full of surprises, huh? I don’t think you know what you’ve done.” Rafe chuckles darkly and leans back up onto his knees, positioning his cock at your entrance. He presses his head into you and he’s so thick you already feel so full by the time he’s only a few inches in.

“Oh, god. I don’t - I really don’t know if it’s all going to fit.” The air is nearly taken out of your lungs when he thrusts his hips forward and you’re sure he’s all the way inside of you now but he pulls almost all the way out before slamming his cock into you to the hilt with his hips flush against yours. “Holy shit, oh my god.”

“I thought you wanted it so bad, now you’re whining that it won’t fit? I’m gonna fuckin’ make it fit and you’re gonna take it like the dirty little slut you are.” Rafe rams his hips into yours at a brutal pace as he grips onto your throat again and squeezes tightly. His free hand comes to rub circles on your clit and it makes your vision blur. “Yeah fuckin, take it. You gonna come for me? I can feel your pussy squeezing me. You’re so fuckin’ tight.”

“Yes, fuck daddy, please make me cum.” Your voice is a broken sob as your makeup smears messily down your face. “I’m so fucking full.”

“Yeah, that’s right, sweet thing. Give me your cum.” That’s all it takes to have an all consuming orgasm washing over you. Your walls convulse around Rafe’s thick length and he picks up his thrusts, chasing his own high. He uses his grip on your throat to press you down into the mattress and your legs fall down onto his hips. You lace them around him and this new angle has him hitting so deep you swear you’re going to feel him for days. The hand not on your throat hooks onto your bottom teeth, pulling your jaw open so he can spit on your tongue. You swallow without asking and then suck his fingers into your mouth greedily.

“You’re so fuckin’ nasty, ya know that? Letting your dad’s boss fuck you till you cry while he’s right down stairs. Leaving me your little fuckin’ panties. This perfect god damn pussy.” Rafe is babbling like a man possessed as he pumps into you hard and deep until his cock starts to twitch inside you. He growls as he fills you with ropes of his cum. When he pulls out you feel nearly hollow and then he shoves his fingers knuckle deep inside of you, collecting some of his cum on his fingers. You pull his hand back to your mouth and lick his fingers, moaning at your combined tastes.

“Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you, little mouse.” Rafe stares down at you with a hunger that’s laced with obsession and you don’t even care because you’re just as obsessed as he is. “You’re mine now.”

Taglist: @nemesyaaa @strawberrydolly333 @sturnioloshacker @loserboysandlithium @gri959 @rafeinterlude @xoxohoneymoongirl @tacymbcm @bunnies-p1tst0p @starkeysprincess

Dividers by @anitalenia

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Part 1)

A year after your dad's divorce with your mom, he introduces you to his new wife, Agatha. And she just wants to get to know you better.

Word count: 1500+

Warnings: mentions of underage drinking, blood

Taglist: @stayevildarling

A/N: trying to make this more of a slowburn, but we'll see how long that lasts lol. Part 2 should be up by tonight hopefully

“Are you sure your dad won’t mind?” Wanda asks hesitantly, a few steps behind you as you stop in front of the gate. 

You had gotten so bored in fifth period English that you had all but dragged your best friend to your car to skip the rest of the day. And now you were at your dad’s house, sneaking into the pool in his backyard. He lived in a house twenty minutes away from your high school and your mom’s house in hopes that you would come visit him often. You knew your dad wasn’t supposed to be home until late that night, so he would never find out that you had been there. 

Things with your dad hadn’t been great ever since you had been the one to find out he was having an affair two years ago with a woman that he worked with. You told your mom, who promptly filed for divorce, and then your dad got dumped by his side piece because she was tired of not being able to go public soon enough. The irony still makes you laugh. 

Almost a year after the divorce, he had sat you down and said: “Sweetie, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Enter Agatha Harkness, your dad’s new wife. The first thought that went through your mind when you first saw her was, is this woman blind? She was so far out of your dad’s league it wasn’t even funny. Your dad is a relatively short man, more gray than black hair at this point, with a square-shaped face. Meanwhile, Agatha was ethereal. Her piercing blue eyes always gave you the feeling that she knew something you didn’t, and her luscious dark hair was always shiny and cascading over her shoulders perfectly. 

And there was something about her long fingers and veiny hands that made you want to scream. 

You weren’t exactly sure how a woman like this had ended up with your dad, but out of spite for your dad and everything he had put your family through, you made it a point to stay as far away from her as possible. They had been married for about a year now and you can count on one hand the number of interactions you’ve had with her.

“Y/n?” Wanda brings you back to focus. Apparently you’ve just been standing in front of the gate. 

“He’s working late,” is all you say, sliding your key into the lock and swinging the gate open. Your mom may have dragged your dad through the ringer in the divorce, but he had bounced back alright. Or this was all Agatha’s money. 

“What about your stepmom?” 

You shrug. “No clue what she does. But there were no cars in the driveway so we’re probably fine.” You lead her into the backyard, throwing your school bag onto a chair and stripping off clothes. Before Wanda can say anything, you jump into the pool in only your bra and underwear. “Come in!” You shout happily, splashing water at your friend. 

Wanda finally lets go of her reservations and follows suit. The two of you splash around for what feels like forever, just enjoying the sun and each other’s company. You were so thankful for Wanda; she had been with you through everything and was truly the best friend you could’ve asked for. 

“Do you want something to drink?” you ask, after you guys have just been floating for a while. 

“Um, sure. Could I have some water?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” You get out of the pool, not even bothering to dry yourself off even a little, and enter the house through the sliding glass doors that your dad should really start locking. You pad through the hallway to the kitchen before filling a cup with water and grabbing two of the beers from the two packs on the shelf in the fridge. You doubt they’ll even notice. You shut the refrigerator door, whirl around to go back outside, and jump. The beer bottles and the cup of water you’re holding slip out of your grasp and smash onto the floor. 

Agatha Harkness is standing right there, watching you amusedly. “You’re soaking wet, darling.” The innuendo makes your stomach heat up ever so slightly. And then you realize what’s going on.  

“What are you doing here?” you ask, panic running through you. If she tells your dad–

“I could ask you the same thing. Shouldn’t you be at school? Can’t be skipping during your senior year.” Her eyes glide up and down your scantily clad body and you suddenly get the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. 

“I–”

“You’re bleeding, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up.” You finally look down at the ground and see a mess of broken glass and alcohol. And blood, from your right leg. The pieces of the beer bottles must’ve cut you. 

“Oh, shit,” you say distractedly, watching the way the red streams down your leg and collects in a pool, mixing with the beer. 

“Come on, we can take care of this later,” Agatha says, helping you carefully step over the pile on the floor. She chews her lip while you watch her try to decide where to put you. You can’t lay on the white couch because you’re actively dripping with blood, and it’ll be too uncomfortable for both of you to have you stand. So you hop onto the counter top, staring at her expectantly. “That works,” Agatha agrees and grabs some paper towels. 

You stick your right leg out and she gently applies pressure with the paper towel, trying to stop the block. You then realize just how close the older woman is to you. She’s standing in-between your legs, her face only about half a foot away from yours. You can’t stop yourself from looking down at her lips. She glances at you and your eyes immediately dart up, but you don’t think it’s quick enough based on the knowing smirk that’s playing on her lips. You’re still practically naked and goosebumps are lining your skin, both from the cold and from her.

You clear your throat. “You’re not, uh, gonna tell my dad, are you?” You wince as she presses down harder on a cut. 

“What, that you skipped school, broke into our house, went swimming in our pool, and then was underage drinking?” Her grin is wolfish and you inwardly snarl. 

“Technically, I didn’t drink,” you point out. She raises an eyebrow at you. You slump down. “Please don’t tell him.” Your voice is soft, but pleading. She finally takes off the paper towel and assesses the damage to your leg. The cuts don’t look that deep. You doubt you’ll need stitches. 

“Let me get some bandaids and then we’ll talk.” She leaves the room and you quickly bolt outside, where Wanda is still lounging in the pool. 

“There you are!” she exclaims. 

“You gotta go,” you hiss urgently. “Agatha’s here and she already caught me but I don’t want you to get in trouble.” At the mention of your stepmom, Wanda jumps out of the pool, frantically throwing on her clothes. 

“I knew we shouldn’t have cut class!”

“It’s a bit too late for that now, Wanda.” You root around in your bag for your keys and thrust them into her hand. “Take my car and then I’ll call you when I need you to come pick me up.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, now go!” You usher her out the gate, sprinting back inside, the sliding glass door closing right as Agatha comes down the stairs. She’s holding a pack of bandaids.

“I’m guessing you also don’t want me to tell your father about your friend?” 

Fuck. “Agatha, please. You can tell him about me but please don’t mention Wanda.” 

She beckons you to follow her back to the counter and she silently smears neosporin over your cuts before bandaging them up. You ignore the way her hands feel on your leg. 

“I won’t tell your father,” she says finally. You breathe a sigh of relief and almost throw your arms around her. “If you clean up the mess you made in the kitchen, and if you let me take you out to dinner tonight.” 

Your brows furrow in confusion. You obviously get the cleaning up part. But the other part..? “Why dinner?”

Agatha smiles and pats your thighs, still close to you. “I want to get to know my step-daughter a little better, darling. And your dad has a dinner thing to go to, so I’m all alone. I won’t tell your dad about your little afternoon escape or dinner. It’ll be our little secret,” she says teasingly, winking at you. Your mouth runs dry. 

“Yeah, dinner sounds good. I need to run to my mom’s house and maybe change my clothes,” you say, also needing to get your car back and take Wanda back to school. You leave that part out though. Her hands, still on your thighs, travel up, closer to your center, and your breath quickens. And then she squeezes and steps back, you missing the warmth of her already. She offers you a hand and helps you get down from the counter. “Pick me up at 6?” you ask.

She smiles and nods. “It’s a date.” 

[thehelltingvilleclub]

Helltingville Epilogues

Want some old men? have old men and the lonely rat bastard Captain Dickey.

From left to right:

Jerry - Mandi - Cherri (Left) - William "Buck" Titus (Right) - Bill - May - Pete - Jane - Amari (Matt's younger sister) - Josh - Matt

dude this took me too long

but man do I love all of em

Jerry and Mandi don't end up together permanently-- but they do have their kids together. I genuinely imagine Jerry ends up like Scout TF2 style as a single dad to like 4 kids but he loves them all equally and gives them all the attention he can.

And when he can't handle them all, he'll just drag Bill over and make him deal with them.

Yes, in Helltingville the gang stick together.. kind of. Like old friends that happen to live nearby-- they meet up occasionally, they keep tabs on each other online, they might even have a christmas party together, but they definitely are not hanging out regularly like they did as kids.

Jerry and May's anxiety can't take it, Josh's heart can't take it, and Bill can't take the guilt of knowing that, so its sparingly, but they'll keep in touch.

During the heavy confrontation after Comicon and after, Bill kinda.. hit rock bottom? Like if he hit rock bottom as a teenager then he hit the bottom of satan's fucking boot. Getting reemed out by Matt, disgusting looks from everyone and even his sister, seeing everyone so happy without him--

he struggles with that, and he hates it. He gets so unbelievably angry with himself for being both equally stupid and selfish. He shouldn't be upset about this! They're just stupid fake fans that don't understand him, right? then why the hell is he three bottles in and he still feels like shit?

Jerry and May keep tabs on Bill the most, checking on him and forcing him into therapy. Jerry uses him as a free babysitter, May enjoys the company when she isn't on set with Pete, and Bill isn't passed out drunk in his mom's basement.

Jane and Amari were enemies in high school, they actually hated each others GUTS. Amari was captain of the cheerleading team and Jane had her punk girl gang. And yet, in college, they managed to get together and put aside their differences. (Plus, Amari has the same infatuation problem as Matt... and her type is scrawny women that could stab a bitch, apparently).

Matt does develop a bit.. of an alcohol issue. He's so stressed from work, worried about Josh and his health, BILL being ALIVE, Bill being NEAR HIM, Bill staring at his SISTER bro his liver is crying.

Josh.. kind of knows. He can tell that Matt drinks at dinner and maybe a sip or two before bed, but He doesn't want to step out of line and make Matt upset. The last thing he wants is to upset his fiance and get yelled at again for being useless. He doesn't need to go down memory lane.

Cherri develops a vocal stim similar to Jerry, and struggles to talk otherwise and is usually hiding behind him whenever they aren't in their room. Buck, on the other hand, will not stop asking questions or shut the fuck up. this kid has enough energy to power the sun and his brain never turns off. Sorry Bill, you're gonna have to explain the entire Star Trek lore because you mentioned Star Logs and did the Vulcan Salute and now he demands to know what that is.

May works with Pete on occasion, mostly on a commission basis from Butchie. She helps make props and walks new actresses through the ropes and makes sure they're safe on set. Pete is just happy his woman's with him and you BET he brags "guys look at my girlfriend god I love her--"

And yes, they're looking to name their kiddo Sidney, but it's still a toss up. Bill says the name sounds dumb but won't help May pick any new ones to add to the list, so his opinion can get stuck in a meatgrinder.

Guys i have too much to say about them.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 3

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Another thankless day of serving cold cuts and cheese to the general public as you ready to tear your hair out. You don’t see how anyone could make such a fuss about a trip to the deli but the locals have a way of exacerbating any simplicity. You’re just happy to be free. 

The bus is late. You stand at the curb and bounce on your heels. You just want to lay down. The lack of sleep is starting to split your skull. 

You yawn and watch a truck blow by. It’s a sleepy old town, nestled between farmland and stretches of dirty roads. The sort of backwoods you don’t drive through after dark. It’s so dull you could fall asleep on your feet. 

A sudden gust of air rips through the sky and the unusual whirlwind circles you. You look up through slitted eyes as dirty speckles across your face. You furrow your brow as lights and flames glow as a red figure lands in front of you.

The electric blue haze goes out and your faced with the suit of crimson and gold. You grip your purse strap and gulp. You haven’t checked your phone yet. You couldn’t have predicted this. 

“Shit.” You mutter. 

His helmet snaps back and he smirks. The silver streaks in his dark hair puff out and he smooths them down. He puts his hand on his hip and scoffs, “name’s Tony Stark, thanks.” 

You cringe and cross your arms. “We met.” 

“Yeah, I remember you. Nearly forgot before everything blew up. You know, this thing...” he pauses to take his phone out. “Hasn’t shut up all fucking day. I got lawyers down my throat--” 

“Your phone is blowing up? My house blew up.” You sneer. 

“Okay, relax. It was a trailer. I said I’d replace it--” 

“Then do it.” 

“Ooh, spicy. I didn’t guess you to be the type but after seeing your little online storytelling, I shoulda guessed.” 

“It’s the truth. That’s it.” You turn to watch for the bus. You’re aware of the few people slowing to stare at the man in his techno-suit. 

“I mean, a little gratitude here, honey. I’m more than happy to slap a new box in the lot but you don’t gotta be this way about it.” He derides. You look at him from the corner of your eyes and scowl. “At least a smile. Bet you’re gorgeous when you smile.” 

He winks and you flinch. Really? 

“Fine. Once we have a new trailer, I’ll delete the post. Sounds pretty fair to me.” 

“Now. Take it down now and then we can go shopping for a new train car,” he chirps. 

You frown and face him. “It’s just a post.” 

“I got a reputation, sweetheart. I’m important that way. I know you might not be able to fathom that but one busted up hellhole is nothing compared to what I do for this planet. Didn’t you see me on the TV, handing out lollipops to hurricane survivors? What are you doing besides whine on the internet?” He stares you down, his expression turning sinister as his grin fades. 

“If it’s not a big deal, then it shouldn’t take much, should it?” You challenge. 

“Wow, you sure are mouthy, aren’t you?” 

“I’m tired.” You peer down the street again. “I worked a full shift and my feet hurt. You wouldn’t know about that, would you? With your penthouse and your dad’s money.” 

“I earned my company.” He snarls. “You watch where you’re stepping, sweetheart. I’m being nice. I flew all the way back to this ditch, so let’s not play dirty.” 

Your heart races. You don’t know why you’ve said so much. Maybe because you’ve worn a customer service smile all day and you’re all out of fucks to give?

And what do you have left to lose? A family that treats you like a gnat flying around their heads and a musty old futon. Your life wasn’t great before but damn if he didn’t make it a whole lot worse. 

“You do whatever. You’re Tony Stark. Iron Man.” Your tone is deflated and monotone. “I can’t do anything about it, can I? Just whine on the internet?” 

You step further down the sidewalk and stare at the approaching headlights. The bus is finally there. Even if he really means to replace the dusty old shithole, you don’t need his self-aggrandized kindness. Not if this is how it’s delivered. 

You pull out your bus fare as you sway beneath the sign. A sharp noise tweaks your ear and you’re seized in a metal vice. Your arms are trapped against your sides as Tony zooms up into the sky, the air whipping around your face as you holler in horror. 

“What-- are—you—doing?” You shriek as you wriggle, kicking into the empty void around you. 

“Sweetheart,” his voice rises from behind his helmet. “You’re gonna wanna be still. If I drop you, you’re gonna hit the ground like a bug on a windshield.” 

“What the fuck?” You exclaim and squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Just givin’ you a lift home. Like a nice guy would do.” He chuckles. “Now don’t breathe too heavy up here. At this altitude... well...” 

You put your head down, shielding it against the shoulder plate of his suit, and you bend your arms to cling to him. You have no other choice but to hold on for dear life.

You get his point. Tony Stark is more than money. He can do whatever the hell he wants. 

[lillaydee]

Matchmade Part 5

Millionaire! Joel Miller / Reader

Having experienced traumatic, life altering events, a freshly divorced Joel worked to repay his debt to the person he owed his life to.

WARNINGS:

Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Character Death, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut.

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 4

---

“Hi.”

Shit, it’s cuckoo lad, and he’s so close.

Wait, he’s Sarah’s dad?

You squirmed your way out of his hold, thanking him for not letting you fall.

“Daddy, no, this is Miss Addie, not Wiyams,” Sarah said, frustration in her voice.

He gave her a soft laugh, sorry BabyGirl. He held his hand out to you, and said nice to meet you, Miss Addie.

You took his hand with a small smile, and said nice to meet you too, Mr Miller, to which, he corrected you with Joel.

He told you he was glad to have found you. He’d been looking for you. He was wondering if he could talk to you? You nodded and asked him to wait for you in the office as you handled the pickup for the other kids. Sarah had completely forgotten Daddy was there and had gone back to playing with one of the kids.

He waited patiently for you to settle the kids, practicing what to say to you in his head. So you are Miss Addie. Small world. He felt as if he knew so much about you already, the way Sarah wouldn’t shut up about you. You finally came back in and asked if you could get him anything. Coffee? Tea? Water? No, thank you, he said. You asked if Julia could watch Sarah for a bit. She waved her hands at you, go, I’ve got her, she signed.

You sat down across from him and waited for him to speak. He placed his hands on the table, interlacing his fingers with each other.

“I heard about Allie. I’m so sorry, Miss Addie. How are you doing?”

“Thank you. I’m doing okay, considering the circumstances.”

“Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?”

“It’s kind of you to ask, but I’m alright.”

“May I know where she’s interred? I’d like to visit, bring Sarah with me, if I can?”

You fell silent. What do you tell him? She’s in an urn in the trunk of my car cause I can’t afford a proper burial for her?

“I haven’t finalized anything yet, but I will let you know.”

He had a contemplative look on his face, as if he was going to say more, but ultimately decided not to. He nodded softly, and told you that if you ever need anything, anything at all, please do not hesitate to contact him. He took a card from his wallet and gave it to you. You took it, thanking him with a smile. He got up and made to leave but paused and turned back to look at you.

“Miss Addie, as far as I’m concerned, I’m still here because your sister saved my life. I owe her my life. Nothing is too small, or too big to ask of me. Please. Call me if you need anything at all.”

You smiled and nodded again. After prying Sarah off your person, he left.

You locked up after Julie left. You looked at the card he gave you. Damn… a CEO of his own company, judging by the name of the company. You kept thinking about what he said. It would be so easy to ask. If only you were not taught to never ask for help if you could help yourself.

**********

Your working days at the daycare went by pretty smoothly. Before you knew it, it had been a full month since you had started working there. Your days were spent with children you love spending time with, making their lunches and snacks, putting them down for a nap and reading or doing activities with them. If things stay this way, you could move out in three months. Sarah was dropped off by her dad every day, but picked up by different people, depending on who was free. You couldn’t help but notice Julie clamouring to handle Sarah’s pickup if Tess was involved, the two spending a long time chatting until Sarah pulled Tess away, wanting to go home. She would be conveniently busy whenever Joel did the pickup, insisting that she’s got whatever it was you were doing. Go, I’m sure he’d like to hear about Sarah from you.

And he really did.

You admire how involved this man was with his child. You found out from Julie what had happened to Sarah’s mother, your eyes widening at the bit where she tried to kill him at the hospital. So he wasn’t lying. You had honestly thought that was part of his cuckoo thing. Apparently not. Oh God, the poor man. No wonder Sarah had never even mentioned a mother. It’s good she had three very dedicated women in her life who loved her so much.

You were deep cleaning the playpen one day when Julie asked if you were busy that long weekend. Apparently, there was a convention in the next town, all the local businesses would flock to the big seaside resort for the event, promoting their businesses, exchanging ideas, getting business tips, the likes. The resort was massive, it could easily house the event, usually fully booked during this time, in fact, it was the resort your parents were going to when the accident happened. You were aware of the convention, it was a big event, this year lasting for two full days, although most people would go Friday and come back Monday. There were activities for everyone. But you had never attended, not being high up enough in the company you used to work for to ever represent them.

Anyway, Julie said, the Millers were going, as they usually do. But the parents, Anita and Jake, who would usually take care of Sarah during times like this, had booked a holiday with friends during that weekend, and the rest of them were involved with the convention. They were looking for someone to look after Sarah. You would get your own room, of course. You just need to make sure Sarah was occupied and safe during those two days. They will pay you handsomely, of course. Would you be interested?

You didn’t really have to think about it. Spend a long weekend with Sarah at a nice hotel for some extra pocket money? Uh, yeah! Of course you are interested.

So, that Friday morning, when Joel asked where he should pick you up to check in that evening, you told him he didn’t have to worry, you can drive yourself after closing. He insisted, parking would be a nightmare anyway, and he had valet service. He’s free to pick Sarah up, since the event would only start Saturday morning. He would just be there to mingle and make contacts, his staff would handle the rest.

You couldn’t tell him you live there. What would he think of you? Julie saved the day, telling him that you could just leave with him when he picked Sarah up, she’ll handle the closing. That way, Joel could just drop you off at the daycare on Monday, and you could leave your car here in the meantime, she said. That’s settled, then, Joel said. Pick you up at 4.30, he said. You just nodded and brought Sarah inside with you, glad that your status as a semi-homeless person was safe.

You were not ashamed, per se. But what would he think of you if he knew the woman he trusted to take care of his daughter was without a home at the moment? You needed this job, you needed this extra money, so you chose to keep quiet, and Julie was kind enough to help you do the same. 

That evening, he picked you and Sarah up, buckling her in the back seat before helping you up into his truck. Only when his door slammed shut did you realize that this was the first time you would be alone with him in a car for an amount of time. Shit. What do you talk about with someone like him? Can you even do that with someone like him? The man owned a business. You were an uneducated, homeless nobody.

You worries turned out to be unfounded. Sarah did all the talking, despite falling asleep every ten minutes, before waking up and continuing her stories as if she didn’t just doze off for two full minutes. Two full minutes, which Joel filled with questions about you and Allie growing up. During the hour drive to the resort, you got to know him a little, and him, you. And not once, you realized, did he talk about his wealth, in fact, he didn’t mention anything about his business to you all that weekend, preferring to talk about his family, namely Sarah, and asking you about yours, and getting to know you.

You also found out during that drive that the cuckoo lad gets better looking the longer you look at him, so you resorted to not doing that. He’s your boss. Stop it Miss Addie.

When you got to the resort, he picked a sleeping Sarah up, the concierge taking care of the luggage. Tess met the three of you at the door, giving you a quick hug hello, and escorting you to the penthouse. Joel took Sarah to her bedroom, while the concierge took the luggage to the rooms, and you stood waiting to be taken to yours, until Tess told you that you would be staying in the penthouse with Joel. Separate rooms, of course. She, Tommy and Maria would be right next door.

You were flustered, to say the least. You had never been in a room this grand. The first floor of the penthouse was bigger than the house you and Allie grew up in, including the land around. That vase on the dining table looked as if it would cost all your savings to replace. What if you broke something? Shit.

Yeah, you’re just going to stand right there until Sarah woke up.

Joel came out of Sarah’s room, tipped the concierge and got your luggage himself, asking you to follow him. He took you to the room right next to Sarah’s and placed your luggage on the rack. He actually asked if he could get you anything. Like, sir? Excuse me? I should be getting you things, not the other way around? Hello? You really felt out of place there, how were you supposed to behave around people like him and his family? He seemed to sense it, so he got on to business.

“Make yourself at home. We’ll have dinner here tonight; the family will join us. Tomorrow onwards you will be mostly on your own but call us if you need anything. Charge everything to the room, just show them your key, okay?”

You nodded, eyes wide from trying to get the concept of charging things to the room.

You heard Sarah call for him. He immediately rushed over, and your heart freaking melted at his commitment to her. Stop it. You’re here to work. Stop it.

As you unpacked your luggage and Sarah’s, you couldn’t help but wonder what Allie would’ve thought of this place. You went out to the expansive balcony and looked at the glorious view, the wind in your hair, feeling like a massive failure. You had always wanted to take her here. In the twelve years you had taken care of her, not once did you ever take her on a holiday, trying to save as much money as you could for more important things, just the beach on the weekends, or the park or the pool sometimes. You’d never allowed pets, worried that the cost of their food and health care might be too much. Movies were a treat, much less the concession stand. Pizza? You can make one for cheaper, and far tastier.

You wondered, at that moment, if Allie hated you for that. If she did, she didn’t show you, or maybe you were too blind to see it? She didn’t get to enjoy the normal things kids her age did, because you were too tight with the purse strings, thinking that her college fund was more important than having fun. And where did all that lead you? She’s gone, you’re alone, that fund you were so keen on saving was gone within weeks, and you were sleeping in the spare room at the daycare where you worked.

You didn’t even realize it, but your face was wet with tears in no time. You should have taken her here. Surely one night here wouldn’t have bankrupted you. And she would have known what it was like to stay at a hotel at least once.

“Miss Addie, are you okay?”

You wiped your entire face with your sleeves and turned around to greet a groggy Sarah. You lifted her up and asked her if she would like to go to the pool. She excitedly nodded. You got ready, putting on your simple swimsuit that you had owned since God knows when, covering it with an old flannel that belonged to your father and a pair of knee length bike shorts. You then got Sarah ready, running into Joel who was on a phone call, and told him you were taking Sarah down for a swim. He nodded and said he will join you shortly, lifting the phone off his ear to say when he was done.

The kiddie pool was glorious. Sarah squealed with joy. She made you pretend to be a mermaid so she can sit on your back while you swam, giggling happily, her water wings smacking you on your face every few seconds. You had pool noodle sword fights, and built sandcastles on the fake beach, and watched as the fake waves wash the castle away.

She wanted ice lollies, so you took her to the stand that sold them. The two of you were heavily debating what flavour to get when a familiar voice greeted you.

“Addison? Is that you?”

And of course, Tanya had to be here. You put on a smile and greeted her back.

“What on earth are you doing at this hotel? Who did you fu…”

She stopped when she saw Sarah. You lifted her up, not wanting her to continue with her usual foul-mouthed poison which seemed to happen whenever she spoke to you.

“Well, hello there,” she said, her body angled away from Sarah, nose scrunched as if she smelled bad. “Who’s this?”

“Are you here for the convention?” you asked, not wanting to expose Sarah to her at all, remembering how bad she had been with kids, Allie in particular,

“Of course, the question is, what are you doing here, with a kid, no less.”

“Hi, everything okay?” Joel appeared out of nowhere behind you.

“Yeah, we’re just getting some ice lollies,” you said, as he took Sarah from you. “What flavour do you want?”

“See if they have blueberry,” he said, eyeing Tanya, who had by now, taken her sunglasses off, and trailing her eyes all over Joel. “Get extra, Tommy, Maria and Tess are here, they got us a few chairs. 

You got the ice lollies, and Joel immediately placed a hand on the small of your back and led you away. He had no idea who Tanya was, but he didn’t get good vibes from her, so he took charge and got you and his daughter as far away as he can from her.

You let him lead you away, but your heart wouldn’t give up the worry. Although you had always bit your tongue when it came to her, Tanya being here, as far as you’re concerned, brought nothing but trouble for you. When he asked you who that was, you just said she was your neighbour growing up. And he left it at that, clocking how uncomfortable you were with her.

The rest of the family cheered when you got there with the lollies. And within minutes, you almost forgot you were there to nanny for Sarah. None of them treated you like the staff. You were just one of them. You were just Addie, although Sarah kept correcting everyone and telling them your name was Miss Addie, thank you very much. You spent the evening talking to Tess, who couldn’t stop asking you questions about your boss Julie, blushed, and told you to shut up when she noticed that you were looking at her with sly smile.

Maria asked how you got to be so good with children. She had heard about the way you coaxed Sarah to come out of the playhouse on her first day. You told them you had been babysitting since you were ten and taken care of Allie since she was born. You were just used to it. You all toasted Allie with lollies, even Sarah, and after a while, left to go back upstairs.

And of course, Tanya was in the elevator. She didn’t say anything to you, but her eyes widened when she saw Tommy press the button for the penthouses. Joel eyed you the entire time, trying to figure out what was going on, but didn’t say anything.

By the time dinner was over, you actually felt like you were part of the family, having gotten your hands smacked away every time you tried to clean up. Sarah sat on your lap during dinner, by the time the plates were cleaned, she was sound asleep. You lifted her up and brought her to bed. She woke up just as you were putting her down and asked if she could have a story from Daddy. Joel came in and laid next to her, so you got up to leave, giving them some privacy, but Sarah said no, Miss Addie, stay. Lie here and patted her other side for you.

Okay, this was awkward. But Joel just said, yes, Miss Addie, stay, a teasing smile on his face, his hand going over Sarah’s head, patting the same area she was.

Well, Sarah was right there, and you couldn’t resist the pleading look. It’s not like you were next to him. Sarah was there, cutest little buffer to ever exist.

So you laid down and listened to the story with her. Before long, you fell asleep to his deep, calming voice reading Goodnight Moon, his daughter snuggled in your arms.

**********

You groggily woke up way too the next morning with Sarah on the other side of you, somehow she had rolled over you and gotten to the other side, still snuggled up to you. You smiled a little at the thought. Allie used to do that too. How wonderful to be young and able to sleep so soundly to the point that you could literally roll over someone and not wake up.

A small, masculine snore properly woke you.

That didn’t come from the little girl in your arms.

Oh shit, whose arm was hugging Sarah over your waist?

Who’s sleeping behind you?

You carefully let Sarah go, and shimmied your way down the bed, under the arm, and slid onto the floor.

Oh crap. Joel Miller was sleeping on the bed. Behind you. His arm was over your waist.

Awkward, right? Yeah…

So, you slowly got out of the open door, and went back to your room.

Joel woke up as you softly shut the door, realizing where he was, feeling the warmth you left on the bed in the space between him and Sarah, wondering what just happened. He fell asleep in Sarah’s room. That much he realized. Did you spend the whole night here too? Had you just woken up? But before he could even think further, Sarah turned and shuffled over into his arms, and he closed his eyes, the smell of his daughter’s hair lulling him back to sleep.

When he woke up about two hours later, you were not in the penthouse. He got ready for his very full day, having agreed to meet some people at breakfast downstairs. You came back in just as he was putting his shirt on, a bag in your hands. He found you in the kitchen, putting fresh fruits away in the fridge, some dried fruits and nuts on the counter. Snacks for Sarah throughout the day, you said. It’s okay, he could go if he needed to, you’ve got Sarah. You’ll bring her down for breakfast when she wakes up.

You didn’t mention anything about the sleeping arrangement, so he didn’t either, thinking that he had just imagined the whole thing. Surely you would say something if that really happened? So, he told you to call him if you needed anything, went to Sarah’s room to kiss her goodbye, and left.

You got Sarah ready; she was excited to spend the day outside. She had seen the elaborate set up for kids the resort had put out for the event and was practically vibrating with excitement. Breakfast first, you said. She pouted, eager to go to the bouncy house, but followed you to the dining hall quietly.

You saw Joel immediately as you walked into the room, chatting with an older man, a cup of coffee in his hands. You went around the buffet, asking Sarah what she wanted for breakfast, to which she pouted and said she wanted to play. You kneeled in front of her and told her if she wanted to play, she needs to be strong. Otherwise she would fall asleep while playing, and we don’t want that, now, would we? She contemplated your words for a bit, her face scrunched up in thought, before telling you she wanted eggs and tomatoes for breakfast. You got some for her and was walking towards an empty table when Tanya spotted you, running a little to get to you.

You got to your table and made sure Sarah started eating. Tanya had taken the seat across from you, asking you what you were doing there, and who you were there with. Sarah asked you if she could have some juice with her milk, and Tanya rolled her eyes at the interruption. You told Sarah she could have juice after she finished eating, and she nodded.

“Come on, who was that delicious hunk from yesterday? Is that your boyfriend?”

You were annoyed that she would ask you questions like that with Sarah sitting right there. She’s three, not deaf.

“What’s a boyfriend?” Sarah asked you.

“Hey, little girl, when adults are talking, you don’t speak, okay? That’s rude.”

You looked at her disbelievingly. Was she serious right now?

“What? It’s true!”

“Please keep your voice down. And what I’m doing here or who I am here with is none of your business, Tanya.”

“Oh, come on, Addie. We’ve known each other forever. I can’t ask you if you’re with someone?”

Her phone rang, and she got up to answer it, moving a few steps away from the table towards the nearest windows.

“Daddy!!!” Sarah squealed.

Joel came to the table and gave Sarah a kiss. He told her he had to go to work, but she has to listen to Miss Addie, okay? Don’t give Miss Addie any trouble?

She nodded excitedly. Joel turned to you, taking something out of his wallet.

“So, you should be able to charge anything to the room with your key, but if that doesn’t work, just use this card, okay? Anything she needs. Don’t be shy to use it for anything you need too,” he said, giving you one of his credit cards, before bending a bit, whispering the pin code to your ears.

Oh… goosebumps.

You just nodded, pocketing the card. He kissed Sarah goodbye one more time, told her to be good, and placed his hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly, telling you he will see the two of you at lunch.

He was still in your line of sight when Tanya sat back down, a disbelieving and smug look on her face.

“Oh, my, God. You’re his nanny? I knew you didn’t have it in you to get someone that hot. He’s too good for you,” she said, a satisfied look on her face, before placing her elbows on the table.

“So, is he single?”

---

@peelieblue @feenoire @vickie5446

Part 6

[imsodishy]

Take a Step That is New

another episode of Four's Company (a series on ao3)

this episode filmed in front of a live studio audience

May 1987 

The cheery chimes above the door at Dot's Dinner ting-a-ling as Steve walks in and he almost throws his stupid briefcase at it. He settles at the last minute for telling it to, “Shut the hell up,” and heads for the counter. 

“Whoa, buddy, rough day?” Robin's already saddled up on a stool, Billy’s just serving up her burger and onion rings. 

The boxy fan they’ve set up on the counter does nothing to dispel the muggy heat that’s settled over the city, just moves the humid air around. It also does nothing to improve Steve’s mood, sweltering in his stupid suit, he yanks at his tie until he can breathe again. 

Steve claims the stool next to Robin, peels off his stuffy jacket and slams it down on the teal formica counter top with zero thought for whatever grease or condiments it might find there, then he plonks his head down next to it without acknowledging Robin, and groans like a dying seal, “I hate my fucking life.” 

It’s not true, Steve likes his life. Mostly. 

What he fucking hates is his job. Which makes up… some way too big percentage of his life; 9 to 5, Monday to Friday is a big chunk of the week. The heat doesn’t help. 

Robin pat-pats his shoulder consolingly. He hears Billy huff at his dramatics before walking away from the sad spectacle of Steve’s life. Off in the corner Seymour, a grumpy old regular who basically lives at his booth, frowns. He’s always frowning at something though. Mostly at Steve, though not exclusively. Eddie earns his fair share of stink-eye. 

Robin's hand is still on Steve’s shoulder when he can sense her lean in closer and– “Don't fucking sniff me, dude!” He snaps upright, leaning as far away from her as he can without toppling off the stool. “It's so weird.” 

“Sorry! Sorry,” she says, “You seem stressed is all, and I was just checking you didn’t go crawling back to sweet lady nicotine's disgusting embrace.” 

Robin’s been rabid lately on her bid to get all three of them to quit smoking. It started with a not in the house rule, and has quickly progressed to all out war on the cancer sticks. Steve's the only one who's buckled so far. He's on an almost two month streak right now, and she's been playing hard defense to keep him on it. He draws the line at the sniffing though. That is simply unacceptable. 

Steve rolls his eyes, and grumbles, “I didn’t smoke,” God, he could really go for one right now though, “If I bring a lighter to work I’ll end up burning the building down.”  

A strawberry milkshake clonks down on the counter in front of him as Billy basically drops it like a bomb, “Oh my God. Quit! Just quit your stupid fucking job that you hate!” he explodes, “I cannot listen to your sad-sack, bitch-baby, whining about it anymore.“ 

Steve pulls his milkshake in close just in case Billy tries to confiscate it for bitch-baby behavior. “I can’t just quit,” he whines. 

Billy just rolls his eyes and doesn’t try to take Steve’s one joy away from him. “Why? Because your Dad got it for you?” 

And like, yeah, but Billy doesn’t have to be such a dickhead about it. 

Billy landed his job at Dot’s Diner like some kind of magic. Seriously, their first day in New York, they hadn’t even unpacked any of the boxes they'd schlepped into the house when Billy dusted off his hands and said, “I'm gonna get the lay of the land,” and walked out the front door. 

He came back six hours later with a job and a peanut butter milkshake. It took him a month after that to tell them where he worked, and he tells them frequently that he's regretted it everyday since he caved. They do spend a lot of time there bothering him, despite the fact he refuses to give them freebies. His boss, Sal (who reminds Steve a lot of Benny from the diner back home, if he had about two dozen extra tattoos, like they both rolled off a big, gruff, diner proprietor assembly line somewhere), is actually way more likely to sling them a free coke or some fries once in a while. 

“We could find you another job,” Robin says, as she’s been saying for months, “One that makes you at least sixty percent less arson-y, guaranteed!” 

Robin got her job at the campus bookstore through student services, (obviously not an option for Steve), although, with the first year under her belt, she's talking about looking elsewhere for employment, since the school pays them peanuts anyway, and she thinks she'll be able to balance her schedule better now on her own. 

The door chimes jangle crazily as Eddie bursts into the diner, “Outstanding news chums!” he booms, ignoring Seymour scowling in his direction. 

“Easy on the door, Munson,” Billy warns. 

Eddie shuts the door with exaggerated care, before he hustles over to the counter and hops up on the stool on Robins other side. He gives himself a drumroll, rattling all the flatware on the counter. Old Seymour’s glare intensifies. 

“I have news,” he repeats, flipping his cup right-side-up for Billy to fill with coffee he doesn’t need, upcoming nightshift at the bar or no. 

Robin takes a guess, “You talked to you boss about getting the time off for the Hawkins trip?” she doesn’t sound that hopeful. 

And for good reason. “What? No,” Eddie dismisses her with a flapping hand, “I have an audition with a band!” 

“Gasp,” Robin says flatly. The only news Eddie gets this excited about is when he's auditioning, or sitting in, or has a lead on some new band seeking a guitarist. 

Eddie, by his own account, got his so-called day job (it’s nights, bar-backing) by just hanging around the bar/music venue he frequents all the time, bothering the bartenders (and selling them weed) until one of them slapped a rag in his hand and told him to make himself useful. Which suits him just fine to fill time while he chases his music dream. 

“Look, I'm going to Hawkins either way,” Eddie tells her with a carefree shrug, “If Rosco won't give me the time off I'll just quit and get a new job when we get back.” 

“See!” Billy says, slamming the coffee pot back into it's cradle, “You see how easy that is, Harrington? You lose a job, then you get another one. C'est la fucking vie.” 

Eddie leans around Robin to look at Steve, “Oh-ho. Did the little Lord Harrington finally break free from the yuppie rat race?”  

“No,” Steve says, and slurps a big sip of his milkshake. 

Steve didn’t get his own job at all, obviously. It was already lined up for him before they even rented the moving truck. It came pre-approved for him courtesy of his father and his father’s business connections. Steve's been working there for almost a year now, but he's still not entirely clear what they do. 

It's real-estate... kind of? The company buys properties, but they do it by selling shares in the properties to other companies, then they use that money to pay construction companies to tear down those properties and build new ones on the land. Those construction companies use that money to buy steel and other building shit from Steve’s dad’s plants back in Indiana (and Michigan). Then Steve's bosses sell the whole shebang for several butt-loads of money for them and their investors to start the game all over again. 

Steve’s job largely seems to involve standing around, insuring their side of the boardroom has the most men in suits at all times, and occasionally kissing investor ass. He’s a Junior Account Associate somehow. 

It’s soul crushing. 

“Aw, cheer up, Stevie,” Eddie says, slapping him on the back, “Look on the bright side, at least you can always keep our beer fridge stocked with that fat paycheck of yours.” 

Robin does Steve the favor of smacking Eddie upside the head. 

Steve decides to change the subject, “What’s the band called, Ed?” he asks, because that’s always good for a laugh at least. 

Eddie holds his hands in front of his face like he's framing a marquee, “ God of Gore ,” he announces in a theatrical growl. 

Steve snorts to himself. Yeah, that’s good shit. 

“And,” he goes on, voice rising in pitch as he gets more hyped up, “Get this, their last guitarist up and moved to Indiana! How's that for kismet? It's fate, I tells ya!” 

“Who would willingly move to Indiana,” Billy wonders, “The whole state's a toilet.” 

Not at all bothered by the shit talking of their home state, Eddie hops down of his stool and announces, “Speaking of which, gotta drain the snake.” 

While Robin is busy grimacing at that, Eddie wiggles incredibly unsubtle eyebrows at Billy. He gets a, much more subtle, jerk of the chin back, so Eddie slips right past the bathrooms and into the kitchen, and doubtless out the back door to smoke in peace, away from Robin’s judgmental gaze. He’s made vague, placating noises at her about cutting back, but he’s just been sneaking around behind her back, with Billy as an accomplice. 

Billy might be smoking more out of spite. 

Eddie's whirlwind act really made Steve feel like the sad-sack Billy accused him of being, and he’s sick of that feeling, gets more than enough of it everyday at work.  

All the silverware rattles as he slams a decisive hand down on the counter, much to Seymour’s ire. “You know what I think would make me feel better?” Steve asks loudly and rhetorically. 

He shoves away from the counter and heads straight for the jukebox. 

“No!” Billy booms, pointing at Steve like he’s a cat on the counter. 

Steve backs slowly down the aisle, facing Billy the whole way with big, guileless eyes. “What's that?” 

“You’re still banned for Bryan Adams crimes.” Honestly, Steve’s probably got a couple bans stacked at the moment. Billy doles them out liberally.  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hargrove,” Steve bumps into the jukebox because he still won’t turn away from Billy’s impotent glare. It's great, his ears are going red.  

“I call the shots here,” he tries, fruitlessly. 

“No you don‘t, Sal does,” Steve snorts, “And, anyway, I am a private citizen, this is a free country! My dime is as good as anybody’s!” He's been spending too much time with Eddie. 

Billy throws a spoon at him. 

Steve cackles as he plugs the jukebox. There’s a couple beats of bassy synthesizer. 

Billy tells him, “You’re a monster,” with feeling.  

Then— “ Watching every motion in my foolish lover’s game.”  

Steve slow dances back towards the counter, swaying to the dreamy beat of the bum-bum-bum-bubums, high on the joy of being deeply annoying. He slides back onto his stool just in time to dramatically sing along to, “ Take my breath awaaaaay,” right in Billy’s face. It's gone all red now, like the cherry on Steve's shake, which he happily pops between his grinning teeth. 

“It’s not my fault Sal won’t put Mötley Crüe in there,” Steve says, munching happily on his cherry. 

Billy storms off into the kitchen. 

“Someday,” Robin muses through he mouthful of fried onions, “he’s going to feed you a floor burger, and I’m not going to stop him. This song is sincerely awful.” 

“I like it,” Steve declares. 

“Of course you do.” Robin pats his hand condescendingly. 

She swivels on her stool to face him, a concerned little furrow in her brow, and ketchup on her cheek. “Seriously though, Steve, we could find you a different job. No problem. You got the job at Family Video, and Scoops before that.” Robin got him the job at Family Video, and he only got the job at Scoops because the first guy they hired showed up to the training stoned, but it’s nice of her to say. “You don’t need to stick it out because of your dad, you don’t need his help. It’s not your only option or whatever bullshit you’re worried about. You can get a different job. And, okay, no it wouldn’t pay as much, but you'd get by.” 

Robin wasn’t Steve’s first real friend or anything like that, he wouldn’t even say she’s his first good friend . But she’s definitely his best friend. Steve lays a hand over her slightly greasy one on the counter, and furrows his brow right back at her, “But then, Robin, who would keep the beer fridge stocked?” 

She rolls her eyes and turns back to her burger, “So we'd have to bid goodbye to Daddy Beer-bucks, we'd survive.” 

They would. Robin, Billy, and Eddie are resourceful, and smart, and self-sufficient, they’d figure out a way get by, even with Steve hanging like an anchor around their necks. But Steve hates the idea of dragging them down. Actually can’t stand it. He literally gets a stomach ache if he thinks too hard about it. When he can hear future Robin, somewhere down the line, when she’s sick of his shit, saying You can’t expect us to handle every little issue for you, dingus, in his head, except sometimes the ‘dingus’ morphs into ‘darling’ and imaginary-Robin sounds disturbingly like his mother (which doesn’t help the stomach ache problem at all). So he needs to keep bringing in enough money to pay his way. 

Steve just smiles at her. 

Billy reemerges from the kitchen to make a round of his tables, giving Steve the evil eye as he goes, before settling behind the counter to concentrate on glaring at Steve despite the fact that the song is long over by now, Eddie Money is playing now. Steve raises his eyebrows at his glare, “Don’t look at me, I’m all out of dimes.” 

Robin, perhaps prompted by Mr. Money asks, “Where'd Eddie go? He’s taking forever in there.” 

Billy silently points over her shoulder to where they can clearly see Eddie’s hunched form cowering miserably under the diner's awning from the unpleasantly warm rain that’s finally broken after threatening all day. He’s sucking down smoke like his life depends on it. Must not have been enough shelter in the alley when the rain started. 

“No!” Robin shouts, much like Billy had shouted at Steve earlier, and dashes out the door, bells cheerfully chiming her exit. Eddie takes a couple more panicked puffs before Robin gets to him and he has to start playing keep away with the butt. 

Steve watches them through the window for a couple seconds like a real life version of those weird old puppet shows, “What are those puppets that–“ 

“Punch and Judy,” Billy answers the unfinished question. 

He flicks a dime that bounces off Steve's forehead and drops to the counter with a ring-a-ting-ting. “Go put on some Springsteen, Bambi,” he says, smiling at him like he’s still a sad-sack, sure, but at least he’s one Billy’s kinda fond of, then he goes to top off Seymour’s coffee down at the far end of the other end of the diner. 

For Billy alone, Seymour’s got a great big smile.

Steve has stapled his tie to his desk. Which seems like the kind of thing most people would only do by accident. Not Steve, though. No, he simply got so bored that when the thought, I wonder if I could staple my tie to this desk right now, breezed through his head he went ahead and did it. 

Turns out he could, so he added a couple more staples for no better reason than the first one. 

Steve feels like his brain is melting out his ears which is maybe half boredom, half the heat. The AC has been in and out all week, something about the grid according to maintenance. Turns out a cracked window and a fan isn’t any more effective on the 10th floor of a Manhattan office building than it is in a ground level diner in the Bronx. 

“Harrington.” All the staples explode off his tie, flying all over his little hot-box of an office, when he jerks upright as Connor Michaels walks in to his office. The guy definitely notices the staples too, judging by the shitty little smirk on his face. 

The thing about all of Steve’s coworkers is that they hate him, because he’s clearly just a doofus nepotism hire who has no business working here. They all hide it behind a veneer of polite condescension while trying to use him as a connection since his last name is Harrington, though. It’s all so pathetically exactly like high school Steve can hardly stand it. 

Connor chuckles, “Tgif, am I right? Listen, I asked Laura to pull the permits for the Hell’s Kitchen property for me, but she’s on the rag or something and flipped out at me.” 

The other thing about Steve’s coworkers is that they’re all douchebags. 

“Okay,” Steve says to avoid stapling his smug face. 

“I know she does shit like that for you all the time, so think you could work your magic?” Connor wiggles his fingers vaguely that reminds Steve of how his mom would talk about his sport’s things any time it came up. 

Laura is the only exception to the douchebag rule. She’s smart, and competent, and the only woman at Steve’s level of management. She also hates Steve, but she doesn't try to hide it. She’s got integrity about it. The only reason she helps Steve with things like permits and filings is that she knows she’s the one who will have to clean up the mess if he royally screws it. She reminds him a lot of Robin in the early days of working at Scoops, just completely unimpressed by and uninterested in his King Steve bullshit. 

Steve does frequently throw himself on her mercy, she’s the only reason he hasn’t caused any serious problems so far. Which is maybe the other reason she keeps helping him, because he unreservedly admits that it’s a joke that they’re on the same level professionally. And not a funny one. 

Steve starts sweeping the staples that landed on his desk and not the floor into a pile, “Sure,” he says to Connor, hoping that’ll get him to leave. 

No luck. Instead he tucks his hand in his pockets and settles into a slouches against Steve’s wall, “How do you manage that anyway?” he asks lightly, “You tapping that?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, “No.” 

Connor hums, “Yeah, not surprising. I bet she’s a dyke.” 

And maybe, on a different day, when Steve wasn’t already at his boiling point both figuratively and literally, he would have responded more... diplomatically.

“I quit my job,” Steve announces as he walks through the front door of his house.  

All three of his roommates turn to gape at him from the living room. 

They were all lounging around in the bare minimum of clothes required for the living room with two opposing fans pointed at them in an attempt at a cross breeze when Steve arrived home with his briefcase in a cardboard box with shockingly little else in the way of personal effects in it. He really hadn’t built up much of a presence at the office over the nearly a year he worked there. 

“What?” Robin exclaims, as she mutes the TV, “What happened?” 

“I threw a stapler at a guy’s head.” Steve answers. 

“A stapler?” Billy asks, baffled, “Why?” 

Steve shrugs, “I don’t know. I mean, I also said a lot of shit, but the stapler was probably the button on it.” Steve drops his things, steps out of his wingtips, and starts tugging at his tie as he makes his way across the room, “It wasn’t even- Like, I mean, it was business as usual, really. It wasn’t anything new, and I just... lost it.” He’s down to his undershirt and boxershorts by the time he collapses between Robin and Billy on the couch with a massive sigh like a slowly deflating raft. 

“Right on man,” Eddie says from his spot on the armchair, leaning over to slap Steve’s knee, “I bet that guy had a stapler to the face coming.” 

He really did, Steve must concede. 

“Shit, I can’t believe I quit.” 

Robin makes a questioning noise, “Did you actually quit, or did they fire you? For the stapler thing?” 

“Who gives shit,” Billy says before Steve can tell them he’s not actually sure technically, “It’s done and dusted either way. Which calls for a celebration!” 

Billy bounces up off the couch and goes to the kitchen to collect a round of beers for everyone, he’s the only one who’s foregone a shirt so far, which is unsurprising. He pops the caps of with his ring before doling out the bottles. 

 “To casting off the corporate shackles!” Eddie toasts, Billy and Robin here-hereing it. 

Steve takes a big gulp of his beer. “What the hell am I gonna do?” he wonders aloud. 

“Celebrate!” Robin says, she’s also in a t-shirt and boxershorts, which she stole from Steve a while back for loungewear, “Like the man said.” 

Steve huffs, “I meant like, longer term. The rent and stuff.” 

“Don't worry, Stevie my boy,” Eddie says, clapping him on the back, “Once we find you a real person job you'll do just fine. After all, the rest of us plebs cover our fair shares with our piddly little paychecks, right?” 

Steve, caught out, hesitates a beat too long (long enough for Billy's bullshit radar to ping), before saying, “Right. Sure. Yeah,” in a way that clearly doesn’t cover for him. 

Billy squints at him, “We have all been covering our fair share of the rent, right, Harrington?” 

Steve nods but he can’t maintain eye contact when he answers, “Right. Fair shares.” 

Robin, catching on immediately, groans, “Oh god, Steve, tell me you haven’t been doing something outstandingly stupid, like paying half the rent, this whole freaking time.” When Steve doesn’t answer right away she screeches, “Steven!” 

“Not half! I haven’t, okay?” he rushes to explain, “Just, like,” he holds up his fingers pinched so close together, “A little more, than you guys.” 

“How much more,” Billy demands through clenched teeth. 

“Well,” Steve tries to think of how best to phrase it, “Imagine we had a fifth roommate, who's rent I have also been paying.” 

“So, double,” Billy’s basically growling now, “You've been paying double what the rest of us have. This whole goddamn time!” Steve hadn’t thought of it that way, but the math does check out. He thinks. 

“And... also the utilities,” he admits reluctantly. 

“Oh, Stevie,” Eddie says, shaking his head sadly. 

“Fuck!” Billy shouts and storms off, stomping his way upstairs without anyone trying to stop him. When Billy removes himself from a situation, it’s best to let him. 

“I can probably still get the job back,” Steve offers, even though the thought makes him nauseous. He’ll eat shit if he needs to, “If I tell them I was on coke or something they might actually respect me more.” 

Eddie’s still shaking his head, but more decisively, “No way, man. We’re not letting you go crawling back to those corporate shitbags now, not a chance in hell.” 

“No other job I can get for myself is going to pay a quarter as well, though.” 

Robin backs Eddie up though, “You were miserable, Steve. None of us wants you to be miserable like that, not for any amount of money.” 

Steve still can’t just let it go, though, “But without that money- 

“There’s no need to panic, all we need is a plan. You’ve got savings, yeah? That’ll give us a cushion until you get a new job- we need to do a comprehensive household budget,” Robin says, like she’s already running numbers in her head, “We’ve been way too loosey-goosey about it, anyway.” Because they’ve been relying on Steve to smooth over any gaps. Not that they necessarily knew that. They’d just hit him up for beer and pizza sometimes and called it a Shill tax. 

“I don’t know how to do a budget,” Steve admits with an apologetic grimace. 

Eddie slings an arm over his shoulders and tries to pull him into some kind of wonky headlock while Steve resists him easily, “Don’t you fret, for you are a very lucky boy, with three wonderful roommates, whose collars are all extremely blue. We’ll show you the ropes.” 

“You know what the easiest expense to cut is?” Robin says brightly, “Cigarettes.” 

“You know what!” Eddie wheels on her, suddenly apparently at his limit on the whole smoking thing. 

Steve watches them bicker back and forth for a couple minutes. Even though it’s clear that this has been building for a while, and of course the inescapable heat doesn’t help, Steve can’t help but feel like it’s his fault for dropping a stress bomb on their heads. Or at least it feels very reminiscent of watching his parents fight about the wallpaper when what they really want to fight about is their miserable marriage. What’s the word for that? Displacement? 

Eventually he slips out, leaving Robin and Eddie to their squabbles he can’t really contribute to one way or the other and heads upstairs.

Billy's not in his room, but Steve didn’t really expect him to be. 

Halfway up the flight of stairs from the second floor to the third there's a window, and outside the window is a strip of roof, about five feet wide by ten feet long, and gently sloped, covering their porch below. Billy likes to sulk out there, especially since the weather turned, though not quite so much since it turned mean.  

Sure enough, the window is ajar and Steve can smell smoke. 

He sticks his hands out the window, palms out, he comes in peace, “I’m coming out,” he says, “Please don’t hurl me off the roof.” 

Billy doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t bite Steve’s head off either, which from him is basically an engraved invitation. 

Steve hauls himself up onto the little stretch of roof, crab walking over ‘til he can plant his butt next to Billy. Even though the sun is sinking fast the heat hasn’t broken at all. 

He snags the cigarette right out of Billy’s mouth as he settles next to him and takes a long, indulgent drag. He only grimaces a little at the taste, Billy and his fucking Marlboros. 

“Ooooh,” Billy deigns to speak to him, snatching his smoke back, “Robin's gonna be mad at you,”  

“More or less mad than when I tell her I'm not going to Hawkins this summer?” 

Billy's hand freezes with the cigarette just about back to his mouth. His lips, already parted to accept it, now just hanging slack pointlessly. “Seriously?” 

Steve shrugs, shooting for nonchalance, missing by a mile probably. “Figure I can do without getting the full rundown on what an embarrassing disappointment I am in person. I’m sure I’ll get the CliffsNotes from our answering machine anyway. Those were always more my speed.” 

He figures they'll share a laugh at that, but when he looks over Billy's not laughing. In fact, he's not even smiling, he just takes a rough drag off the cigarette and then hands it back to Steve without prompting. “If your dad leaves any blowhard message on our machine, I’m deleting them.” 

Steve’s not sure what to say to that so for a while they just pass the butt back and forth in silence until he screws up his courage to ask, "What about you? You mad at me?” with a wince, “About the rent thing.” 

“Well I’m not fucking thrilled about it, Harrington.” 

Yeah, that was obvious. 

Billy runs an agitated hand through his hair leaving his curls, already frizzy from the humidity, even more messed up. “Thought- it felt like we were making it. Doing it for real, you know? Standing on my own two feet like a man,” he scoffs to himself, “ Stupid.” 

Billy’s got a very specific tone he does when he’s quoting his dad, and Steve fucking hates it. 

“You are,” Steve insists. Billy quirks an eyebrow at him, and Steve scrambles to clarify, “Making it. Not stupid. You’re making it.” 

“Not without a heaping helping of charity apparently. I can’t-” 

“It wasn’t charity, dickhead!” Billy’s mouth snaps shut, and thank god for that, because Steve has no more interest in hearing what Neil Hargrove would have to say about his son than Billy does in suffering through phone messages from Richard Harrington. “It just made sense. I took that stupid job from my dad, and the paycheck was the only good goddamn thing about it. And you guys have all this other stuff going on. You and Robin have school, and Eddie’s trying to do his whole music thing. I mean, what the hell else was I supposed to do with all that stupidly easy money I was barely really earning? Other than use it to buy you guys food, and beer, and, yeah, pay the fucking rent!” He’s worked up a good head of steam, but he deflates immediately in the wake of his outburst, “I mean, what the hell else am I bringing to the table here?” 

Suddenly self-conscious in the silence that follows, and way too aware that he’s breathing a little heavy, Steve snatches the cigarette from Billy’s hand. Takes a huffy little puff, like someone who doesn’t know how to inhale, then takes a slower, more measured one. 

“You sell yourself short, you know,” Billy says, uncharacteristically quiet. Steve looks over at him, but Billy's not looking back, he's gazing out across their neighborhood instead. 

“Look,” he goes on, slow and awkward, “I don’t exactly know where I'd be right now, if not for you. But, I know I wouldn’t be here .” He throws his arms out wide to encompass all of New York City, and their whole life here. 

It's not like they have a spectacular view or anything, they're not up remotely high enough for that. Their sagging little strip of roof, on their rundown building, isn’t even facing the glittering Manhattan skyline. Down below them a taxi driver is shouting at a truck that’s blocking a cross street. The humidity is oppressive and the heat makes the streets stink like garbage, and it’s not like it’s any cooler in the house. 

Their whole life here? It doesn’t actually look like very much from the outside. 

Steve gets it though. 

He jostles their shoulders together, “You would have gotten out. You would have made it anyway.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” Billy plucks the cigarette out of Steve’s grasp, kills the last of it and pitches the butt to the street below. Steve watches the glowing trail of the cherry as it falls. 

“You know,” Billy says after a long stretch of mostly comfortable silence, “If you don’t go to Hawkins, you’re gonna have to let Eddie drive the beemer.” 

“Shit, I didn’t think of that.” He waves off the thought, “Can’t be helped. I need to start the job search anyway.” 

Steve thinks about that process for all of thirty seconds before he groans, “Man, my resume is gonna be so fucking weird.” Steve lists his employment record out on his fingers, “Scoops Ahoy, burned down. Family Video... I don’t think I gave notice at Family Video, I think I just left and didn’t come back. Kensington Group Limited, assaulted a co-worker with stationary.” 

“Well, if all else fails, you know Eddie would love to fake some references for you,” Billy says, “Bet he’ll do voices and everything.” 

“Just what I need. A reference from Gondelf.” 

Billy snorts a laughs, “It’s Gandalf, you know it’s Gandalf.” He’s right, Steve knows that, because Eddie never shuts up about that book. 

“Mmm, pretty sure it’s Gondelf. I mean, he’s an elf, right?” Billy just rolls his eyes but he’s smiling, and listing a little towards Steve. 

“Billy,” Steve speaks softly, earnestly. Billy hums back a question, “Would you... get me a job at the diner?” 

Billy explodes with laughter, “Fuck no!” 

“C’mon,” he wheedles, through his own laughter, “We can commute together! Sal loves you. Be a pal, put in a good word for me!” 

Billy punches him in the shoulder, “Sure, I’ll tell him you’re a chronic masturbator and that I’ve never seen you wash your hands.” 

“Thanks, buddy. I really appreciate that.” 

Billy grabs the shoulder of Steve’s shirt and rattles him around a bit like a dog with a squeaky toy, “I’m going to shove you off this roof,” he threatens through laughter. 

They lapse into giggly silence and then just silent silence. Billy keeps his grip on Steve’s shirt like he’s worried he might actually go toppling over the edge after all if Billy doesn’t keep a tight hold. 

Or maybe he’s just forgotten that his hand is there. 

“Hey,” Steve says after a while, just to get Billy to look him in the eye, “We’re gonna be fine,” he reassures him once he has. 

Billy’s undivided attention is always intense, eyes like blue lasers locked on to a target. It used to freak Steve out in high school, but he’s gotten used to it. It’s just how Billy is. Sharp like that. 

Sharp enough that he reads Steve like a goddamn book and knows that as much as Steve really was trying to reassure him, he was also, maybe just a bit, fishing for reassurance too. 

“We’re gonna be fine,” Billy parrots. 

They stare at each other, probably for too long, sitting in a little loop of comforting and being comforted. And Steve, he believes it. They’re gonna be fine. 

They have each other.

[finnbbl]

Hyunjin × M! Reader - Dancer AU I SMAU | Chapter 16

Ch. 16 - Begged to forget I Previous Chapter | Next Chapter I

I Story Masterlist I

Written: Yes

Smau: No

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol mention, anxiety

“Ow Lia!” You complained as she adjusted your outfit. “Hold still, gosh you are so hard to work with.” She spat at you harshly, causing you to roll your eyes. Not wanting to hear her complain, you sat still as she tightened your belt. “You know I am perfectly competent of dressing myself.” Turning your head slightly towards her, her eyes glance up and pierce into yours for a few mere seconds. “Relax, there.” Lia gave you a slight push towards the mirror. It was a simple outfit, nothing you were too mad about. “You’re gonna have so much fun, i’m glad you’re getting outside of your comfort zone.” You had briefly gotten lost as she started to speak, but quickly tuned back in. “I’m only doing this because Hyunjin bribed me.”

“That may or may not have been my idea.” You gave Lia a look. But before you could say anything, you suddenly got a text. Seeing it was from Mingyu, you started to grab your bag. “Oooo what’s the smile for?”

You hadn’t even noticed that you started smiling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Responding as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “Pft yeah right, okay, anyways do you need a ride?” Lia found herself trying to engage in a conversation with you, however you hadn’t noticed. Too engrossed in a conversation on your phone, a smile lacing your face once again. Her final straw was when she had repeated the question, and you had yet to hear as only a small giggle escaped from your lips. “Y/N!”

Your body jumped slightly, “God Lia you don’t need to scream- hey!” She snatched your phone out of your hands. After a few seconds or so of her scrolling through your messages, she finally broke the silence. “Just date already.” Rolling her eyes as she shoved your phone to you. “What? Why would you say something like that?” Lia grabbed her bag. “Come on, you don’t see the way he looks at you?” Her question caught you off guard. “Uh no?”

“Well I see the way you look at him. You were just giggling over his texts two seconds ago.” All you did was scoff. “Whateverrr if you say so.” You hadn’t even considered that as a factor before. Sure he was always calling you pet names, but you never took it as anything more than platonic. “I was going to ask if you needed a ride, but I guess you got that covered.” She teased, throwing in a wink. “For the last time Lia, nothing is going to happen. Maybe you didn’t hear me the last fifty times that I wasn’t looking for a relationship.” Lia rolled her eyes. She could be so frustrating sometimes. You know she was only playing and looking out for you, but it got annoying when it was brought up every other day. “Fine fine, i’ll drop it. Now go! Go have fun.” You threw her a smile. “Thanks Lia.” The blonde embraced you in a hug before shoving you towards the door.

Your mind raced as you made your ways down the stairs of your house, only to be interrupted with the one thing you had forgotten to sort out. Your dad. “Shit..” You mumbled under your breath. He was currently watching TV with a beer in his hand. The couch and his back was turned away from the front door, it wouldn’t be impossible to sneak out. Hopefully he had enough alcohol in him to be completely unaware of his surroundings. If he wasn’t at his company, this man was always drunk or high off his ass.

You started to take a step as the odds of you getting by him successfully started to rise. You stopped in your tracks as you heard your dress shoe click against the wood floor. Freezing as your head jerked to the couch, making sure he didn’t hear. For once, him being an alcoholic had worked in your favor. You silently took off your shoes as you quickly made your way to the door. The minute you opened it you could see Mingyu’s car parked on the street in front of you. Glancing back before you shut the door as carefully as you could. You sighed of relief before making your way over to his car. Only when you got closer did you realize how nice it was. A smile fell upon your face as you admired it before opening the passenger door. “Hey y/n!” Mingyu greeted you cheerfully. “Hey,” You said back with a smile, shutting the door and putting your seat belt on. “You know Im glad you decided to tag along, I hope this helps you branch out a bit. You look great by the way.” You glanced down at your fingers in your lap, smiling to yourself at his compliment.

Although you struggled accepting praise for others, you thoroughly enjoyed it. Even if it didn’t happen often. “Well you ready?” You nodded, aimlessly tapping your fingers against your knees. A pit still remained at the bottom of your stomach, maybe it was the fact this is the first time you’ve snuck out. It wasn’t clear as to what was actually bothering you, but there was definitely something. “You okay?” Mingyu asked you as turned his blinker on, he could sense your uneasiness. “Oh, yeah yeah i’m fine. Don’t worry.” Thanking him with a small smile. Your eyes watched his moves as he drove, something about it was relaxing. It was definitely odd, however it helped ease your worries. “You know I’m always here if you need something, don’t hesitate if you ever wanna talk.” Was the last thing he said before deafening, but comforting silence took over.

Soon, you saw Mingyu pull into the driveway. As he searched for a parking spot, you could feel anxiety course through you. Your eyes darted around the scenery outside, the moon lighting up the yards of the rather expensive neighborhood that San seemed to live in. Unknowingly, your knee started to shake, letting your anxiety show. It wasn’t until someone’s hand found its way to your knee, applying a bit of pressure to hold it still. Your head whipped in the direction, there was Mingyu with his somehow reassuring gaze. “You’ll be okay, I’ll be right next to you the whole time if you need me to.” A smile found its way onto your smile. He started drawing small and light circles on your knee, as he continued to give out reassuring words.

Were those butterflies?

You couldn’t help but think to yourself as a once forgotten, but not new, feeling crept its way inside your stomach. Was it the way he cared for you? His charm? It could’ve even been his boldness when meeting you. He wasn’t afraid to show how he really was, you liked that about him. But there was no way you could let yourself fall or let anyone in. Only knowing you’d regret it later, you weren’t meant for love. It only ever ended in heart break and pain for you and the other person (mostly you). Pushing the thought to the back of your head, you quietly thanked him. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be okay. I don’t wanna hold you back from having fun.”

“Nonsense, I only decided to go because you did if I’m being honest.” You furrowed your eyebrows. But before you could say anything else about it, he spoke up. “Well are you ready?” As if there even was a point in asking that question he was already opening the door and getting out of the car. You did the same, getting a better view of the scenery around you. It was a calm and cool night, the gentle breeze nipping at your exposed fingertips that crept out from your long sleeve shirt. Giving it was nearing fall, you only expected it to get even colder. It wasn’t until you started to near the door did anxiety seep back into you. Hearing the loud music and seeing the excessive amount of cars that were parked on the street. You had begged that they were the neighbors.

*Knock knock knock*

You hadn’t even realized that you were standing in front of the door until knocking sounded. The door swung open, revealing San. “Hey! I’m glad you guys could make it.” San pulled Mingyu in for a hug, then moving over to you. “Come in, come in.” Mingyu could definitely sense the tension built up in your body. His hand resting gently on your back, guiding you as San led you two in proved that. It was reassuring. “Do you guys want anything to drink? We have plenty of options.”

“Sure, I’ll take something. Just surprise me.” Mingyu stated.

“Hey, watch it you’re my ride home.“ You said in a demanding, but not too serious tone.

“What, you think I can’t hold my alcohol?” His snarky response caused you to roll your eyes, it also earned a chuckle from San. “Well what about you? Do you want anything?”

“Uhh, no no i’m okay. I don’t drink.” You smiled lightly at San, making sure he knew you did however appreciate the offer. “Alright no worries, I can get you a bottle of water from upstairs if you want?” He proposed a second option as he began to make something for Mingyu, you had to say he was decently fast at it. Made you wonder if he’d worked as a bartender before. “That would be great actually, when you get a chance of course.” A lips turning into a small upward smile as you accepted his offer. “Awesome, I’ll go get that now.”

As San disappeared upstairs, you suddenly heard your name from across the room. “Y/N!” Of course, this caught your attention and it turned out to be Hyunjin. “Hey Hyunjin!” The male made his way over next to you and Mingyu, who was now just observing the conversations.

“I’m happy you made it tonight.”

“You mean your happy your bribe worked right?”

“Yeah yeah whatever, you guys should come sit over here.” He pointed over to where he was sitting, most of the faces you had recognized. Whether they were an idol you had befriended or not, it felt comforting knowing that at least it wasn’t a complete stranger to you. “Uhm sure, if Mingyu wants to that is.” You turned to look at him, not wanting to leave him behind. “Hey, I’m down for anything.” A chuckle following his sentence. Next thing you knew, you two were sitting on the couch, not long after San had returned with both of your drinks.

Hyunjin began to introduce you to the few people you hadn’t met before. “Ahh Y/N yeah, i’ve heard about you. You’re a sick dancer man.” Said a guy you had learned to be Hongjoong. Yes even though you rehearsed and performed with ATEEZ, names and faces were all a blur except for San’s. That was only because he was the one to befriend you. "Thank you, I really do appreciate it.” You smiled at the group’s leader. Briefly were the others introduced. No one had really caught your eye, that was except for one.

Wooyoung.

You couldn’t quite figure out where you’ve met him before. It had been bugging you in the back of your mind ever since the performance. You had definitely at least talked to him before, and it wasn’t at a rehearsal. In fact, the only one you could remember talking to was San. Assuming you were just going crazy, you decided to do your best to forget about him. It was only going to spike your anxiety which had just started to calm down.

An hour or so passed, when you noticed it was becoming quite noisy in the area. It could be the alcohol in everyone’s system, even Hyunjin was getting loud. Everyone except for Mingyu, who had also began to grow irritated by the noise. “You wanna step away to the kitchen for a second? It’s quite loud in here.” Only turning to him and nodding as he grabbed your wrist and led you through the small crowd of people to the kitchen. You sighed, “Thank you.. Not to sound like a baby but it was starting to get to me.” The both of you chuckled before he reassured you. “Nah don’t worry, I was starting to feel the same way.”

Before you guys could continue your conversation, the door swung open and sounded a loud voice. A way too familiar voice, one you’d never forget. Your heart stopped as you could hear San’s voice and footsteps as he welcomed the guy into the house. “Nice little hangout San, haven’t seen you since we roomed together.” As if you weren’t already sure of who it was, you turned your head to the door to be met with a face you’d not seen in a year. One that haunted you, one you had begged to never see again.

Choi Yeonjun.

More anxiety coursed through your veins, preventing you from even moving. You were frozen, your anxiety hadn’t been this bad in a while. You swallowed nervously, unable to tear your eyes way from him as much as you wanted to. All you wanted to do was run the other direction, away from him. However that was impossible. Trapped, even if you left now the only way out was through that front door. You hadn’t even noticed the calling out of your name that Mingyu was doing. You were sure there were definitely red marks on your hands from how hard you dug your nails into your palms as your fists clenched tighter and tighter. Doing whatever it took to ease the anxiousness.

“Y/N!” Mingyu said rather loud, catching the attention of a few people. Although the house was nice, it wasn’t that big. So of course the entire neighborhood population heard. Your head jerked to look at him. “Are you alright?” Your eyes full of fear before you cleared your throat and shook your head. “Y-Yeah I’m..” Unable to finish your sentence as the idea that he may have accidentally caught Yeonjun’s attention crossed your mind. You looked over back to the door. San, and of course Yeonjun, who now had a devilish smirk and an evil look in his eye. They both were looking at you. Yeonjun’s gaze was one that sent a wave of fear through your body every time you made even the slightest bit of eye contact with him. It was one you tried to rid your mind of, however it had only been a year so it wasn’t easy. His glare of fury still burned into your skull.

“Ahh Y/N, haven’t seen you in a while.” He walked over to you, playing everything as normal. Your body tensed as he had suddenly put his arm around your shoulder as if it were just a friendly gesture. Outside it may seem that way, but you both knew. Yeonjun had a motive, you knew he had something up his sleeve. Especially with how nasty things ended between you two the previous year. It wasn’t hard to tell that all eyes were on you two. San, Hyunjin, Mingyu, everyone was looking at you.

You knew this sense of happiness couldn’t last forever…

Taglist: @silverstarburst @virluna148 @galaxycatdrawz @onementally-unstabel-kid @uso-dakedo @lampcults @chaer4life @kkurbys @gnusihcom @mellhwang @sleeping-demons

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[cupidkenji]

Virginia vampire - 2/2

Pairing: Aaron Hotch x vampire!fem!reader Cw: SLOWBURN BRO, non-gory descriptions of death, descriptions of hunting/blood consumption, angst, fluff, Lolita name drop (the book), non-descriptive mentions of an abusive dad, cursing, typical criminal minds violence, possible ED trigger (more in disclaimer), this chapter has kissing but it's not rlly suggestive Summary: Still reeling from your newly discovered brother, you find yourself struggling with the increased policing of the night life. In this, you also find a new incentive to hunt down your father. Disclaimer 1: Reader is chubby! She's not physically described here at all but a fat woman is always the MC. Disclaimer 2: Reader lives strictly on blood. This story discusses themes of intense bloodlust/hunger, UNINTENTIONAL avoidance of blood (food), and physical consequences due to not eating. This is NOT pro-ana or anything like that, and while these themes are explicitly negative, they are still there and may affect those struggling. Please look after yourself, this is all fantasy and is not meant to trigger you. That's all <3 WC: 6.4k - read part 1 first Y'all are really not fucking with this series but I had to finish it for my soul. Stings a lil bit ngl but I got a little something in the works that'll prob be received better. HEAD THE WARNINGS PLEASE but like usual I highly doubt this will be triggering to anyone, I've had an ED in the past and wouldn't write shit that would suck. <3

The morning after the introduction, you walked into the BAU with more purpose that you’d ever held in your step. You were practically on a manhunt for Aaron. You figured it wouldn’t be long before he found you; he’d been trying to speak to you everyday since you started ignoring him. After a week of unreciprocated persistence, your direct addressal of him hit him like a freight train. He looked at you confused for a minute, wondering if perhaps he was starting to see things as a product of missing your company, but quickly ushered you away upon realizing you were indeed speaking to him. You hadn’t been in his office since the night you’d laid your sins to rest on his lap, and it was uncomfortable to be standing at the scene of the crime. 

“Something happen-”

“Now you want to talk?” He was understandably upset, but his emotions were something you honestly didn’t have time for right now. “I’ve been practically begging you to talk to me for the past week. It was so unbelievably fucked up for you to shut me out like that.”

You sighed, he was for sure in the right but you needed all hands on deck and did not want to confront this right now. “I know, Aaron. I’m sorry, but I need your help.”

“I’ve been helping, Y/n.” You can’t remember a time you’d seen him so expressive. “I lied my ass off to a team I preach honesty to. I didn’t even care because it was to protect you. And then you stop talking to me? Make me give your orders to others just because of…what? Embarrassment? Pride?” You let him finish, mirroring his own exhaustion in a tenfold with the look you gave him. He sighed, putting his hands on top of the desk chair and leaning over it slightly. “What happened?”

Gratuity intertwined with the fatigue in your eyes as he said that. You owed him more than you knew how to make up, but unfortunately you weren’t done taking yet. “I talked to the unsub.”

His eyes shot to you. “What?”

“His name’s Daniel. He’s twelve, Hotch.” You looked down as you thought about him in the clutches of your father. “He hasn’t escaped. My dad is sending him out hunting and I have no idea why or how to find him.”

He breathed out, long and heavy as he approached absolute depletion, putting his hands on his hips and letting his head fall forward. “Ok.” He nodded, looking up with a new purpose than the one he held a moment ago. “We need to tell the team to look for him. We can’t find him on our own.”

The thought was petrifying, but you’d been prepared to share limited details. The team didn’t have to know about your condition to know about your father’s insanity. You could plead a convincing case without using yourself as evidence. “I’ll tell them.” You made eye contact with him, a comfortable agreement falling silently over the two of you. You walked back into the meeting you’d pulled him from. 

You expected the team to have carried on without Hotch there, but it seems the curiosity was simply too overwhelming to ignore, and they chose to sit stagnant and wait for the leader to be returned. You walked in after him, stating the new objective explicitly. You already had a sense like you were running out of time, you had no desire to prolong that feeling. “I’ve made the dynamic weird between everyone the past week, and I’m sorry.” You started, standing before the team as you spoke. “I think we need to start looking for my father as a suspect. I haven’t been honest with you all.”

You saw bewilderment light up the faces of them all, but only Morgan held a slight look of betrayal. He hated secrets, which is why it didn’t surprise you when he spoke up first. “How do you mean?”

You took a deep breath. What a plunge you were about to take. “Obviously you all know my father is virtually off the grid, but I’ve never told you about the man he was when I was growing up.” You weren’t going to give them the ins and outs, just the bare minimum. “He wasn’t a kind man, but he was a devoted one. He always talked about wanting to ‘expand his experiments.’ He swore to the public he’d never go beyond trials on mice but he lied. I found his plans to start human trials when I was seventeen and ran.” Not entirely untrue. The only part that blurred the lines was human trials - you genuinely believed he’d never attempt to make another you. Stupid.

Prentiss furrowed her eyebrows, messing with the pen in her hand as she processed the information. “You think he succeeded? That we’re dealing with a vampire?”

God, you were sick of that word. “I think we’re dealing with a mutated kid. The sun’s not gonna light him on fire, he’s just another victim of my dad.”

“I mean-” She seemed lost for words. “You seriously think he lives on the blood he’s taking?”

You were really praying on their trust in you. You were going to insist with all your might that he be tracked down, there wasn’t another way you were willing to convince them. “I’m positive.”

You were incredibly grateful when Aaron came to your defense. “I think we should look into it.” You saw a reluctant acceptance dawn on the group and internally sighed. Thank God. “Even if we don’t find evidence of human trials, he may know something about the unsub. It’s worth a shot.” They were suspicious, the room practically reeked of it, but you had to put aside the unease it caused you in favor of finding your brother. 

“Alright.” Morgan nodded. “I’ll go talk to Garcia. We’ll get a start on it.” He gave you one last inquisitive look before heading down the hall, the others filing out of the room to start on their routine tasks when a new theory was proposed.

Hotch looked over once the two of you were all that remained. “Do you think we can do this?”

You thought about it, truly thought of him and all his fucked up habits from your adolescence. “Daniel’s here, which means my father has to be.” You thought of the high chance this doesn’t work out in your favor. “If Garcia can’t find him then nobody can.”

He chuckled. “Can’t argue with that.” He looked at the board in front of you two, covered with pictures of drained bodies and bloodshot eyes. He flipped it, revealing a vacant side ready to be utilized for the task of locating your father. He returned his gaze to you, and understanding what he was implying, you grabbed a marker. “Let’s get to work.”

–

The boy - if he had ever truly been slowing down like the media claimed - relinquished that pattern almost as quickly as he’d adopted it. He hit the streets after a two day refractory period with a vigor unlike any previous attacks. You’d found four bodies in one night, and you had to force yourself not to picture him being locked away in one of your father’s cages, being starved just to be let out in hopes of wreaking havoc. Now, the night after the discoveries, cops were back on the streets in record-breaking numbers. You thanked your lucky stars you’d stocked up this time and wouldn’t have to duck and weave through all of them just to feed yourself. You were, however, scared for Daniel. Even your team started to notice his increasing sloppiness. There was a full sketch that had been made, the accounts of numerous officers making up the image. You knew well that he was smart enough to evade them, making you nervous he was trying to get caught - or worse, he was simply too exhausted to be speedy. You wouldn’t blame him for being fed up, but you feared the day his legs were gripped by it and he simply ran out of time. He hadn’t come back to your house, but you found a letter in your mailbox with no return address, simply stating your name in a handwriting that your father would have dubbed ‘chicken scratch.’ It was beautifully his, though, and you could practically feel the youth emanate from the words as you read them. He said that he’d hadn’t told you about himself, and that if you were going to be friends, that was a good start. You finished reading the letter a little teary-eyed with a cemented fondness for him - that whisper of maternal protection you’d felt at first now fully sprouting roots within you. 

It was him you thought of when you were called to fifth and main, listening to a panting policeman report that his luck, indeed, had run out. Your legs carried you out of the building without your vest, your cuffs, everything that was meant to be required sat unthought of in another room. Your team, of course, had gotten the same call that the wretched Virginia vampire was finally against the wall, and were rushing out of the building with equal energy but far less desperation. You headed immediately for the driver side, allowing Hotch to take the passenger and forcing every remaining member into the other car. He knew things they didn’t, you could talk to him about this in a way nobody else could hear. That was your intention, at least; let him calm you down before you made a mess of the scene with your unprofessional personal ties. You ended up completely ignoring his attempts to talk you back into sanity, focusing on dodging cars and clearing a path that would get you there the quickest. You don’t remember shifting the gear to park, simply slamming the brakes and falling out the door once you got there. Guns were drawn - a herd of police with sight trained on him - and you were standing in nothing but jeans and a long sleeve. You certainly felt the absence of your protection, but equipping them would have cost you far too much of the one thing you didn’t have: time. His hands were up, the typical sign of a peaceful surrender, but the knots currently pulling taught within your gut sent waves of nausea through you that you took as a bad sign. He wouldn’t surrender, your father would never let that happen. You lost track of the people following you closer as you rushed towards it all. You only knew Aaron was beside you because of his hand gently halting you from going further. Just a slight grip of your forearm and you stilled, waiting in the wings for that approaching storm to fling you asunder. You felt your tongue expel the word ‘please’ multiple times under your breath as you begged him not to do anything, begged God to listen to you, just begged for the sake of begging. Maybe, you bargained, showing a bit of gratitude to any higher power would let everyone walk away from this. You picked up on the twitch of his legs as he hesitated the run he was about to make. You felt yourself lurch forward slightly in response, as though somehow you could catch the bullets before they met his body should he try to flee. Soon, it wasn’t a speculatory thought - he did try. He ran straight at one of the officers, your eyes taking in every brutal detail of every bullet flying close-range right into him. You doubt a single officer held their finger off the trigger, estimating at least three bullets hitting him in rapid succession, every impact searing into your memory to forever loop in your nightmares. You felt Hotch’s arms in your clawing hands before you realized you’d fallen into him, the hoarse denials of the situation exiled from your throat with raspy wails. He let himself absorb them all, holding your head to his chest as you squirmed to look back at your brother's corpse. His fucking corpse. You would have charged at his executioners if not for his grip on you, and though you couldn’t feel it now, you’re sure you’d be grateful for the restriction when you inevitably exited your hysteria and still had your job. You felt the wet patches you were making on Aaron’s blazer rub against your cheeks but you could barely tell where you were, you had no energy to be bothered by the sensation. 

You heard him whisper, barely audible over your own heartbeat pounding against your skull. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

You sat like that, him waving away any approaching team member or officer. Anyone who wasn’t the man holding you was instantly ushered away, insanely confused and slightly offended. His body was bagged up, journalists and news casters were scratching at the barricades like vultures, circling until they could get the scoop. You’d listened to one woman describe his death as “the short reign of terror done by the Quantico bloodsucker finally being cut off” and thought about how he looked when he smiled. He’d liked white chocolate and baby birds, all the malice had been your father living vicariously through the boy. Daniel, well, he was just a kid. Sweeter than taffy and radiant. Simply bred to be a killer - a condition fully out of his control. He was just a dead vampire now, and you felt an emptiness like never before. 

Aaron offered, “let me drive you home” and so you nodded, preparing to go back to a cold house. He’d been there before, you should have insisted. You let him walk away and go back to your father, so sure you’d be able to obtain him again. You’d almost caught the firefly and now you weren’t sure you’d see light anywhere but the sterile reminders of the boy you almost knew. The car stopped, your whole neighborhood felt alien - unrecognizable. 

“Will you spend the night?”

“Of course.” 

So you went in. He hadn’t been in your house before. It was well lived, slightly aged and a little cluttered, but it smelled like you. He was happy to be there. He looked around the areas he could see. Kitchen, living room, typical entry-level stuff. He put his minimal things on the couch and went to situate himself there. It was comfortable, certainly not the worst couch he’d slept on. You looked at him, not bothering to suppress the obvious accusation of his stupidity in your eyes. 

“Spend the night with me, Aaron. Not on the couch.” This day single-handedly outweighed the world as it sat on your shoulders, making you question how you ever thought you’d known grief before tonight. “I probably wasn’t gonna sleep anyways, but I’m definitely not gonna sleep if you’re out here and I’m alone in a cold bed.”

He sighed, clearly wanting to comfort you. “Y/n-”

“Please just get in the bed.” You felt your eyes slip shut as you breathed out your answer, pointing vaguely in the direction of your bedroom as you referenced the item within it. “We can talk in the morning.”

He stood up, nodding slightly. “Ok.” He was so quiet, so domestic in his delivery that you almost let some of the tension slip off you. He’d always had an effect like that, and right now it was all you could ask for. He let you take his arm and pull him towards your personal abyss. You two could exist there, no bounds or expectation, just peace and quiet. You shoved him down, not bothering to change or even do your typical night routine. You just curled up to him, and tried to lose yourself in the feeling of his hands running up and down your back. You fought - hard - to surrender your racing mind into his open palms. He was here, like always, as a refuge - and for once in your life, you allowed yourself to be enveloped in the safety he offered. 

–

You’d partially expected to wake up to an empty bed the next morning. You’d put Hotch in a really compromised position, and though he was eager to support you, it would still be him that would take the blame as your superior. You’d compromised both your positions by bringing him into your mess at all. As guilty as you felt for the possible repercussions, you didn’t regret your choices. Especially as you scanned over the sleeping man, still donning his full suit - only kicking off his shoes the previous night in respect of your sheets. Always the gentleman. His arm was snug around you, but you wormed your way out after a few minutes, keeping his slumber intact while you made your way outside. Your throat felt smaller, in a way. As if the edges had shrunk overnight and now were incapable of taking in as much oxygen as they had the day before. Your eyes were swollen and slightly sore, and you were nearly begging for fresh air by the time you reached the door. You found the strangest thing when you opened it - a book. Pages bound in brown leather sat neatly to the right of the walkway. You weren’t exactly surprised you missed it last night, you weren’t in a particularly analytical state, but seeing it in the daylight was like seeing an angel ringing your doorbell. Mystical and dreadful - full of questions you didn’t want the answer to. What was it? Why is it here? Opening the cover, you found that loveable chicken scratch filling the first page, and raced inside your house with the book tucked under your arm. You protected it as if it were his lifeforce - at this point, it might as well have been. It was all you had left of him. You placed your shaking legs in a chair and settled in to read all of it. Whether he’d dropped it or left it intentionally didn’t matter to you. It was here, you were eager to merge his thoughts with yours. You knew it would be a mistake, and just like you predicted, you were weeping ten pages in. But you sat there, letting a jagged hour and a half pass before pausing when you found the last entry - your name was there. You’d learned about his desires, his fears, his ambitions, his shared hatred for your father. You acquainted yourself thoroughly with him throughout his own narration of his life, and now, he had something to say to you.

Y/n,

Surely I’m gone by now. I’m leaving you my journal so hopefully you know more about me than just the stuff at the end. You seemed nice, I’m sorry we couldn’t get to know each other. Just know I’m not doing this because I don’t believe in you, I fully think you could have done it. I’m just sick of this. I’m sick of him. I’d rather be dead, at least then it won’t be something he wanted me to do. Please go after him still, he talked about making more, and nobody deserves to live the life he creates. I’m rooting for you.

-Daniel

He’d gotten caught on purpose, then. You’d pondered on the full lead up to the shooting, gone over all the possibilities in your head the whole night. That was a primary option - hell, you’d thought about meeting the same fate more than once. You lost count of how many times you re-read the note before placing the book under a coat near the door. You didn’t want someone to find it, feeling overly protective of the thing. He’d wanted you to have it, nobody else. A plan was sorting itself out in the confines of your working brain. You knew it was late, the rest of your team surely having clocked in hours ago. You thought about the likelihood of you being able to get your gear and talk to Garcia without alerting the others. The verdict chalked up to a lukewarm worth a try, so you set off. You left Aaron sleeping in your bed, driving to your place of employment in yesterday’s clothes, still wallowing in yesterday’s grief. Your reaction to Daniel’s death had been very public and was definitely noted down by all of your coworkers, but you couldn’t find any care for that in your head. You would wing it, come up with something on the spot, all that mattered was getting to Garcia and your bulletproof vest.

You pulled up to the building, fate winking down at you as you retrieved your protective gear and added it to your attire. They must be at the table, you thought. That left Garcia alone and available in her office. You didn’t bother knocking, calling her name as you walked in and nearly scaring the skin off her bones. 

“I need you to look for something.”

She stared, unblinking at you, turning fully away from her computers to face you. “Well, hello to you too.” It was weirdly calming to see someone in such a normal mood. “Where the hell did you and Hotch go last night? Everyone’s been worried sick.” She was speaking in rushed whispers even though her door was closed, trying to maintain privacy while simultaneously being away from any onlookers.

“Look, I know it’s weird. I’ll explain everything, but I need a favor first.”

“They always do.” She sighed, pursing her lips and spinning her chair to face the devices. “Shoot.” 

Fate was really on your side today. “I need you to look at buildings owned by McCaslister corp. Anything with a yellow roof.” In your obsessive readings of his journal, you’d swiftly taken note of the multiple mentions of the “yellow roof” building. Your father used to be a suck up to the CEO of McCaslister, and it would hardly surprise you if the company let him operate in a facility of theirs. They had thousands across the country, and you’d never had any semblance of guideline to narrow it down, so you figured mentioning the connection wouldn’t be helpful. All of that changed now, though, and you were cautiously hopeful. 

“I got nothing, girlie.” She delivered the news quickly, hands working vigorously as she typed. “Anything else I can look at?”

“Look for any building the company sold with a yellow roof.” Your father may have been too distrusting to take a favor. He was wealthy enough to buy something from them. The seconds passing felt stuck in your throat as you watched her work, scouring every database she both did and did not legally have access to in honor of fulfilling your request. 

Finally, she pulled up records of a contract signed the year you’d run away. It was signed by a “Humbert Haze” and you felt your stomach leap at the name. You always knew briefly of your father’s many aliases, guessing this one was a nod towards the Lolita obsession he’d held when you were younger. It had to be him. A lab with a yellow roof, big and desolate. It was in the middle of nowhere, perfect breeding grounds for an experiment such as this. You took a look at the address, burning it into your retinas to ensure you’d see it wherever you looked, and casted your sincerest possible gaze at Penelope. You remember her giving the team a combination of keys that would temporarily shut down her system lest there ever be another hacker that infiltrated the BAU. Using the dreaded fisher king scapegoat against her in a time like this was cruel, but cruelty was all you had right now.

“Please don’t hate me for this.” And then you hit it. You watched her screens go black instantaneously and her eyes spark with baffled suspension. You began your trip to hell quickly, Garcia stumbling up, her heels clicking from behind you.

“Wha - Y/n!” She was speaking as she walked. You hadn’t deserted her room yet, but as you reached the door she uttered one last plea. “What are you gonna do? You can’t do whatever it is you’re thinking on your own.”

You honestly didn’t know if you planned on coming back from this. You figured you might as well air some dirty laundry. “He was my brother, Pen.” You opened the door, turning back to add one thing before you left. “Tell them I’m sorry.” You heard her call out from her doorway one last time as you stalked away. Upon entering your car, you put the address into your GPS before you could forget it. Twenty minutes. It was odd to think about. Twenty minutes and you could end this. 

Penelope, in the meantime, was busy rushing to interrupt the team as they attempted a timeline of a new case. They’d moved on, not finding you or Hotch but knowing damn well there were always more cases to be solved. They’d all jumped in their seats as she burst in, detailing your interaction and getting increasingly panicked as she explained. She gave her theory of the motivations and possible family ties of everything, and no matter how far off it could have been, it was enough to earn the team’s immediate priority. When asked where it is you went, Garcia was faced with the steel-cold unknown. She hadn’t personally paid attention to the address, never predicting in a million years you’d fisher-king her system and render her technologically helpless. Everyone congregated in her office as she attempted to hack around her own barricades, watching as she essentially battled against herself. You’d known it would work out that way, only crashing her systems to buy yourself the needed confrontation time. They would find you, you were sure, but first you had to kill your father.

You pulled up, nearly a half hour later, to a little patch of woods giving way to a huge plot of land. A stark, sterile white building with a hunk of yellow adorning the top of it. It was hideous, perfectly fitting for a man like your dad. Your stomach bottomed out, the feeling you lived within for your first seventeen years burrowing back home inside you after being gone so long. He was definitely here. You could throw yourself to the opposite side of the Earth and you’d still possess that sixth sense you’d gained for his presence. The door was locked, but you couldn’t kick it in. You didn’t want to alert anyone - especially him - of your arrival. A sneak attack was the best shot you had at success. Plus, he could have more subjects or guards willing to protect him. You wouldn’t kill any more innocent lives he’d doomed to a fate of his choosing. You wouldn’t put down any more of his victims. You decided to pick the lock, a trick you’d picked up from one of your city friends, and slowly inched the door open just enough to slip through. It was sickeningly bright, fluorescent lighting giving the room a slight green hue that made your eyes ache in their sockets. You couldn’t imagine growing up here; at least you’d gotten a house. Hallways decorated with doors that were chained closed and name tags to match each door was the immediate sight. They were too far away to read, and they weren’t what you were here for anyway. You ventured past the entrance, reeled deeper into the belly of the beast, finding a common area with tables and a tv propped on a wooden stand. How many fucking people did he have here? You’d been careful, ducking behind corners, peeking around them before rushing to the next. You maneuvered your way through most of the building like this, finally coming up on the back of a madman. He was sat at a desk - presumably his workspace from the clutter of papers and tools - tinkering with some either useless or catastrophically destructive gadget. Your lips trembled, your tongue almost forbidding you to use your voice. A voice that was half his genes. You were half of this man. You were in so far over your head. 

You inhaled, silent and sharp, mustering all your strength to spout his full government name followed by you informing him of his arrest. You held him at gunpoint, your trigger finger begging you to press the texture of that angelic button. Put a formal and undeniable end to his reign of terror. “Stand up and look at me.” He stood up, turned and looked at you.

He scanned you up and down, scoffing at your attire. “How does someone with a kill count as high as yours end up an FBI agent?” His hands were up, per your command, but he stood as though he was in control. “Remind me not to trust our justice system.”

Your eyes practically receded into your skull with how far they rolled back. “Like you’d trust anyone. Agent or not. How much you shell out for this building, huh?”

“What exactly am I being charged for?” He held so still, but you were sure he’d start walking anytime. He liked to circle people, like a lion encroaching his target.

“Daniel. I want to know what happened.” He smiled, a grin like the Cheshire cat. Although looking at him now, he just looked demonic. “What did you do to him?”

He laughed at the audible ball in your throat. “It’s not as bad as you’re picturing, sweetheart.” He shrugged. “The kid even enjoyed the hunt sometimes.”

You don’t think you’d blinked the entire time you’d been aiming at him. “What’s behind the doors?” You jerked your head towards the entrance, referencing the hallway full of possible containment units. “You putting more of that DNA into innocent women? Make some more monster babies?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Unicorns, actually.” Fucking bastard. “Got bored of you bloodsuckers.”

You chuckled, sarcasm spewing from your mouth as your tongue met your cheek. “He died, you know?” You could still hear the gunfire from last night. “That’s all on you.”

He nodded. “Yeah, saw that on the news. Your boys did me a favor, honestly. Kid was drying up.”

“You’re heartless.”

“I’m a scientist.”

“We’re not some variables in a fucking equation, dad. You brought real people into this world and real people died because of it. You knew that would happen. You knew and you did it anyway.”

“You devastated my work, you know that?” He started walking, keeping his hands elevated but circling nonetheless. “You were my most impressive - credit where credit is due - but lord you made things difficult.” As he got closer, you got more on edge. You couldn’t predict him, you never could. “Had to start from scratch all over again. More women, more failures. How many do you think died because you ran away? That’s blood on your hands, Y/n.” Hands still up, he got maybe four feet away from you. You almost wanted him to charge, to give you justification to pull the trigger. “Daniel - well…he never quite lived up to you. I changed up my method, let him out of the house instead of giving him food and he just came crawling back. I almost wanted to let him go.” Two more steps, he just needed to try something. “Are you really gonna shoot me?”

You inhaled, tired and annoyed. “I’m just begging you to come and find out.” You cocked your head at him, ready to be done with this. “You were scary cause I was young, dad. Now you’re just a psychopath. I deal with you everyday.” 

He sharply exhaled, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff and looked down. He had his tongue to his cheek -a habit of yours that you only now realized came from him -  and his hand to his heart, feigning an injury like your words struck him deep. He charged a moment later, looking up swiftly and making a go at you. You gave in to the wail of your finger and fired two shots - straight to his heart. You were saddened, he was nearly submerged in his own blood within a minute, most likely dying quick. You’d wanted him to suffer more than that, but you supposed you couldn’t get everything you wanted. It was then, when you truly looked at the blood, you noted for the first time in your life how unappealing the substance was. Rather, the substance that leaked from his veins. You’d lived under the impression your whole life that just the sight of it would stimulate your appetite beyond belief, but looking at the near endless food supply spilling from him in buckets, you felt above it - above him. He was a tainted man, sick and soulless. His blood would be as foul as his actions had been, you wanted no part of it. He was dead, that was the only thing that mattered. An eye for an eye. 

You realized it had been over an hour since you left only when your team came barreling in. It had taken them longer than you expected to find you. They’d clearly woken Aaron up on their journey here, as he was newly dressed and suited up in his FBI vest. None of them were needed, not anymore, but their company was nice to have. You weren’t worried about losing your job - in fact, your body was more weightless than it’d been your whole life. Even with multiple decades free from your father, his eyes sat heavy on you always. The weight of his approval, of his words, actions - all of it was ingrained in you, was part of you. That feeling was finally gone. He had, more or less, confirmed he was housing experiments in those rooms. You could justify it all, they’d understand. You would plead your case, testify if you had to. You were in the right here, you would prove it if they wanted it. More people were called to the scene, you were questioned and asked to temporarily part with your badge until they processed your statement. You gladly gave it over, needing a break from your professional title. They bagged and removed his body while tears of pure ecstasy fell from your eyes. Without Frankenstein, were you truly bound to the identity of his monster? Who were you without your Achilles heel? As you stared forward, Aaron approached you, greeting you with a gentle disposition and a loving stroke of your arm. He’d asked to drive you home, you replied with a ‘please.’ 

Your home was how you left it, the only deviant being the sign of a rushed man that was painted on your sheets. They were tangled and distressed, evidently reflecting how Aaron was feeling as he’d toppled out of your house that morning.  “You scared us. We were all worried about you.”

You looked at him, dazed and affectionate. The day so draining that there was no longer a filter between your perception of him and what you allowed yourself to express. There was just you, very much in love with him and very obvious about it. “I’m sorry.” You were sorry for scaring them, not at all remorseful for the outcome, though. “Does Garcia want my head on a stick?”

He chuckled, sitting down on your bed. You were still stood in front of him, and he put his hands on your hips to inch you closer as he stared slightly up at you. His hands were warm, and you were nervous. “I think your next four paychecks are gonna need to go strictly to make up gifts if you ever want her to speak to you again.”

You sucked air between your teeth, grimacing at the thought. “I deserve that.” The heat of his hands was seeping into you, weaving into your skin. He seemed to be healing your internal tension from just his physical grip on your torso. “Guess I’ll start planning.” You looked down at him, the pure fondness that filled your eyes when directed at him seemingly mirrored in his own as he held the contact.

“I think that can wait till’ tomorrow.” He was nervous too, you realized. His hands were shaky through the firm grasp he had on you. “Do you want to talk?” You couldn’t decipher if he was referring to the situation that you were returning from, or the situation you both were currently in. Talking about either at the moment seemed much too taxing. You were pure instinct right now, leaning into his hands because of how good they felt, not because you could consciously recognize the meaning. 

You nodded. “In the morning.” You ran your hands along his shoulder, clasping your fingers around the back of his neck. You leaned down a little, resting your forehead against his. “I’m tired right now." If you thought you could beat sleep, you would have put it off forever to be awake with him. "Can you kiss me so I can go to bed?” Your eyes were closed, you assumed his were too, and you felt his slight laugh smudge his lips against yours. He followed the action with the pressure you’d been craving for years. Entirely consuming as he lead you, even from the physically submissive position, through the most anticipated kiss of your life. You could have stayed like that forever, feeling his grip get the slightest bit tighter on your hips to support some of your weight as you leaned down. Eventually, you both caved, him falling flat against the bed and you hovering above his waist before he pulled you down onto him in an action that seemed subconscious. He’d separated from you after a few minutes; snuffed it out before those tiny embers could fully ignite. He reminded you ‘in the morning,’ making you once again realize how much sleep beckoned to you. You agreed, ‘in the morning,’ and turned over to slot yourself against him. It was the best you’d slept in years - possibly ever - and you didn’t know if you could even rationalize how good life would be with Aaron in this aspect of it. He’d be in your home, perhaps even become it, and that thought struck you like the bullets struck the men of your family. You supposed now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. Sleep tugged your eyelids down, and his hold on you only amplified the sedation that was sweeping your system.

You would think about it in the morning.

[spyderlondon]

@pannyprainer

Based on this animatic

My Queen, Her Servant

CW: Grief, self harm, suicidal idealization/thoughts, hearing voices, written by someone who lost their dad and is still grieving

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT IN THE RIGHT MINDSET FOR THIS! EXTREMELY HEAVY GRIEF AND ANGST!

It was night, at least the simulated version of night, within the digital circus and nearly everyone had gone off to bed. Everyone, that is, except for a certain kingly chess piece who had just finally left the comfort of his pillows. Something he only really ever did if he wanted to spend time with the others, forced to go on Caine's adventures or at night.

At night, he was able to think clearly for a while longer than usual. At night, he could remember her. He could remember how she was no longer around to keep him company. He could almost hear her if he pressed himself as close to the floor as possible, he could just imagine what she say when he was still around while she had been banished to the cellar. He could almost hear her begging, demanding that he'd join her.

He squeezed his eyes tight, slamming his fists into the sides of his head, just enough to leave small, almost unnoticeable dents. No one had said a thing about them unlike her, she was the only one who had noticed during his entire time at the circus. Only she ever stopped him, he could still feel the light, chaste kisses on the dents anytime she saw them. She was his savior, the only reason he felt he could survive for so long.

At least.

Until she left him alone.

He saw the colorful eyes appear in his vision again, beckoning him. Telling him to join them, join her. He would never have to be alone again. He could stay forever with her. He would never be able to escape but why would he want to when he could be with her.

No.

NO!

NO!!

He slammed his fists angst his head again, denting a bit more. She wouldn't want him to follow her down, she'd want him to live and get out even if she wasn't with him any longer. She told him that before she was fully gone. He felt his chest tighten as he thought about her longer.

Another slam against the sides of his head.

He forced himself to stand and leave the pillow fort. Staying there gave him too much time to think. He needed to move. He needed to work. Get his mind off of his grief. There was something more important to do than focus on his own sadness. Something more important than him.

He went into his long abandoned room. It was covered in a giant mess: molding trash, his bed completely unmade and dirtied with dirt, everything one could imagine to make a room dirty- it was there. The only thing out of place was the pail, scrub and small hand towel- which is what he grabbed before he shut his door. He had no need to be such an alien room longer than he had to be.

No, he needed to be elsewhere. She needed him elsewhere. He was her servant and he needed to serve her. That was his mission. That is why he stayed even when she was gone.

He set the bucket, that was now filled with soapy water, down in front of a door that wasn't his. A door that had the picture of a black queen chess piece covered with an X. His queen. He was just her simple servant.

He placed a hand on the picture with a sad sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. He didn't notice a small jester peeking outside her door at him, seeing a tear fall. Or how she looked up at the picture that his hand was on.

No. By the time his eyes opened again, the hallway was as empty as before. He let out a shaky breath as he pulled out the keys Jax let him borrow every night. He didn't even need to look, he just got her key first try which he used to unlock and open her door.

Everything in the room looked like the complete opposite of his. It was pristine, barely any specks of dust, it was as clean as clean could be. But the queen's servant knew there could always be more to clean, more to fix, more to do. She may no longer be around but he could certainly keep it clean. At least so it could keep his heart warm and at least allowing him to pretend she was still there.

He moved around her room, humming a song that the both of them enjoyed as he swept, mopped, dusted, and scrubbed. Making sure nothing was out of place, nothing was still dirtied. Everything needed to remain clean like his image of her. He paused at a picture frame.

Her image was clear but all he could see of himself was a man who loved but failed to keep his love alive. A pathetic whelp of a man who deserved to be in her place down in the cellar. She was the perfect one. She was the angel. She could've kept everyone sane and happy and kept them from ending in the cellar. He couldn't. He just hid. He was already losing his mind. Why he was still around? Zooble was right, he should've been the next to go. Not Kaufmo.

He hit the sides of his head again, a crack beginning to form on either side.

A word painted in red just behind the nightstand. He hadn't noticed it before, had he? Maybe he just missed it. Or maybe he left it there himself to make himself think about it. To give him an out. He wanted an out.

He moved the nightstand, kneeling down as he let himself stare at the word: Exit.

The word seemed to echo from everywhere in the room, coaxing him to listen. To let himself go. No one needed him up here. Everyone he knew from before was below. She was below.

He let himself listen. He let him see the colorful eyes. Maybe he should just let himself go? No one seemed to need him up here.

She is below

Your friends are down here

Everything is false in the circus

Why stay? Give in.

Give up.

JOIN US!

He felt his body begin to tingle with each echo. He was about to fully allow the echoes and eyes win but

A hand gripped onto his shoulder gently, breaking him from his reverie. He screamed in surprise although it sounded like fear or desperation.

His eyes looked manic for a few moments before his vision and mind registered the small, extremely worried jester who pulled her hand away and held it in her other, rubbing them together.

She was saying something but he could only barely still hear just the echoes. They were still calling for him but her presence made them muffled.

He saw her kneel down next to him- such a small little jester. She didn't belong in this circus... she should still be able to be around her parents... but the only parent she had was him. She chose him. He never understood why.

She put the scrub brush in the soapy water and used it to clean off the red paint that he was staring at. Gently. He could tell she didn't want to ruin the wallpaper underneath.

The echoes became quieter. But they still refused to leave him entirely. Not yet.

She noticed his dents and cracks on the sides of his head. He felt her wrap a bandage around his head despite how he wasn't bleeding. How silly. But why did it make him feel warmer?

She helped him up. He moved the nightstand in place. She said something muffled but it sounded like she was praising his queen's room. It made him feel lighter. Happier.

She gently took one of his hands, leading him out of his queen's room and to a room he only vaguely recognized. She said something about a surprise and that everyone helped.

She opened the door.

The room was almost as sparkling clean and beautiful as his queen's. It felt like a room fit for a king, not a lowly servant.

Everyone was in there: Ragatha, Jax, Zooble, Gangle, and Pomni went inside from behind him. They were all smiling. Smiling at him- even a tiny smile from the uncaring rabbit and something akin to a smile from the mix match.

He didn't understand why. Why they did this.

His eyes landed on a picture frame that held a drawing inside of it. A drawing of the entire troupe- including those underneath. All proudly standing around two chess pieces who were obviously in love.

It broke him.

He fell to his knees and trembled. Sobbing. Wailing.

Everything he kept inside for all these long, long years. All coming out in hard, crashing waves.

Everyone in the room knelt down, hugging him gently. Holding him as protectively as he's tried holding them.

Maybe he could stay a bit longer.

Maybe he was wanted.

Maybe he wanted them as well.

-------

A/N: This one hurt to write. The entire time my heart was thinking of my father who passed away back in December. How hard it was to lose him and how, even now, I'm grieving.

Grief doesn't go away. You can only try to help it ease up. Don't let yourself fall.

[flowxrtimmy]

Through The Storm (n.h.)

when it’s your first thunderstorm in your new house, single dad Niall comes by to check on you, and you end up getting to know each other a lot more than anticipated.

You’ve thought about this for what seemed like forever, finally being on your own and living in your own house. It wasn’t too big, but not too small, and was located in a decent neighborhood, not too far from downtown. You didn’t even need your parent’s help, you’ve been saving so much since you started working as a registered dietician at a nearby nursing home, and made a serious commitment to stop eating out and spending unnecessary money, and with a strict budget you were finally able to get out of your crappy apartment and into an actual house. Plus, you were also closer to work with this new place, so that would help ease up on gas money. However, that wasn’t even the best part. Your neighbor was really friendly. His name is Niall, and he has a 4 year old son, Andrew, who was the cutest kid you’ve ever seen. Niall, though, was so fucking hot, there was no other way to say it. He was fit, always smelled amazing, always dressed nice, and if he looked that hot while being presentable, you could only imagine what he looked like just rolling out of bed. In fact, that’s what you imagined most nights before going to sleep. Him laying next to you, in just his underwear and a shirt, his hands running all over your body, it may have caused the habit of you reaching for a toy before going to sleep, but he didn’t need to know that.

Currently, you were sitting on your couch, trying to catch up on SVU when you heard a large thunder clap boom, scaring you out of your spot. A storm?! How? Your Alexa didn’t warn you, and upon checking your phone, there weren’t any notifications from your three different weather apps. How could it just appear like that? You looked out the window, and noticed it was indeed very dark out. You took a deep breath, and tried to focus on the show. Usually, storms didn’t bother you, but this was your first storm while living alone. At the apartment, there was always someone to go to, you did have pretty decent neighbors, but now it was just you. You could hear the rain start to come down, and with the sky lit up with lighting, followed by loud roars of thunder. You whimpered to yourself, standing up when the lights began to flicker before finally going out.

You tried to stay calm, making a mental note to not open the fridge, and went to your kitchen, grabbing your lighter and lighting the candle on the kitchen table, then walking to the living room and lighting the one in there as well. You winced at another loud clap of thunder, sitting back down on the couch, setting the lighter on the small coffee table in front of you. You could get through this, it was just a spring storm, everything would be okay. Having calmed yourself down a bit, you sat back on the couch, listening to the rain. However, that didn’t last long when a knock sounded at the door, making you jump. Oh my god, you thought to yourself, someone’s about to kill me. Despite your inner thoughts, you stood and slowly crept to the window, peeking out to see Niall on your front steps. You let out a sigh of relief and quickly walked to the door, opening it. “Niall! It’s raining cats and dogs out there!” You said with a relieved laugh, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hey, love! You can say that again.” He steps in, taking his shoes off, which had gotten almost soaked during his short walk over to your place. “Man, didn’t even see this one coming.” He said as you shut the door behind him.

“That’s what I was thinking, no warnings or anything. Can I get you anything? I can’t open the fridge, but I have water bottles that I haven’t put away yet.” This was your first time having any kind of company, and you felt bad that you couldn’t be a proper host.

“Oh no lass, I’m alright, but thank you.” He smiled at you. “Just wanted to come by and check on you, Andrew is at his mom’s right now, and I know this is the first big storm since you moved in.”

Your heart fluttered, he was concerned about you, and braved the storm to make sure you were okay. “That’s so sweet of you, you must be cold!” You grabbed a blanket from your couch, wrapping it around him. “Please, have a seat!”

“Well of course, honestly it gets pretty lonely without Andrew as well, also you’re too sweet.” He smiled as you led him to the couch, the two of you sitting down. It was still somewhat light enough that you could see where you were going, but that wouldn’t last long. “The first big storm of the season, actually.”

The fact that he admitted that he gets lonely hurts your heart, and you’re glad he decided to come over. “Oh yeah? Well I’m grateful you wanted to come over just to make sure I was okay, it means a lot to me.” It really did, you had relaxed now that he was here, and you definitely felt safer.

“Of course, but uh, that’s actually not the only reason that I came by.”

You looked at him curiously, raising a brow. “Oh? Well, what else can I do for you?”

“Well, I was just curious, how old are ya, lass?”

You blushed a bit at the nickname he’s called you twice now, but smiled. “I’m 23, 24 next month.”

“Oh, so not much younger than me, I just turned 30 in September.”

He was only 30?! You were surprised, not that he looks old or anything, but damn he was actually somewhat close to your age. “Oh wow, yeah only 6 years older, not too horrible.” You felt a lot more confident now, and you were itching to make a move, and you had a feeling that he wanted to do the same. “So, no electricity, just us and these candles.” You set a hand on his knee, not taking the time to think about it, you just wanted to take action.

He glanced at his knee then up at you. “You’re right, it is only us, and it seems like we have the same idea.” Without another word, he pulled you to him, crashing his lips against yours. You kissed him back as he set his hands on your lower back, you wrapping your arms around his neck as you two kissed. The thunder roared as Niall gently pulled back, looking up at you. “I’m sorry, I had-”

You didn’t let him finish, and kissed him again. He kissed back, his hands running down to the hem of your shirt. You pulled back, raising your arms up as he pulled it up, and tossing it aside once it was off. “Fuck, I’ve thought about this for so long, Niall.” You moved to the floor, smiling up at him. “Just, on the floor is how I’ve been imagining it.”

He looked down at you with a smirk, and chuckled. “That sounds like a great idea.” He pulled his own shirt off before joining you on the floor, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close to him. “God, you look so fucking good right now, and we don’t even have everything off yet, petal.” He ran his hands up your back, unclipping your bra, and pulling it off in one fluid motion. His eyes went wide and he smiled, gently laying you back and leaning in, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, gently teasing it with his tongue.

Fuck, he knew what he was doing, and it only made you feel like you had to tell him the truth before things went any further. “Ni, hold on a sec.” You watched as he pulled his head back, looking at you with concern.

“What’s wrong, petal? You’re comfortable, right?”

“Oh absolutely, trust me you’d know if I wasn’t.” You took a breath. “This is just my first time doing anything sexual.” It was true, throughout college you did go to parties and such, but never went home with anybody or anything like that, and honestly, you hadn’t felt like you were ready. However, you felt something different with Niall since the day you met him, and deep down you knew that you wanted him as your first time, it was only just now becoming real.

He was quiet for a moment, then smiled. “So I’m your first time for like, anything?”

You nodded. “Yeah, but like, I’ve used toys before, if that counts” You let out a light laugh.

“Yeh, toys can help you adjust to having something inside you, but I’ll still be super gentle, and we don’t even have to do that, we can start light with fingering to get things going, how’s that sound?” He gently set his hands on your breasts, smiling down at you.

You thought about it for a moment, and smiled. “Yeah, that would be great, actually.” You loved that he was willing to help get you comfortable with everything, you had no reason to worry about him not wanting someone inexperienced.

Giving your breasts a gentle squeeze, he nodded. “You’re in good hands, lass.” He ran his hands down your sides, pulling your sweats down along with your panties, pulling them off your legs and setting them on the couch.

“You gotta catch up, Ni.” You joked while sitting up, undoing his button on his pants before pulling them down his legs, smiling at his red briefs as he helped you pull his pants off. You hooked your fingers around the waistband before pulling his briefs down, his erection now in full view, and the first time you’ve ever seen one in person. You let him take over getting his underwear off as you looked at his dick, shocked. “Woah.”

He smirked, stroking it once his hands were free. “Glad ya like it, petal. Now lay back, yeah?”

You obeyed, laying back on the carpet, bending your knees, watching as Niall gently opened your legs. “I’m excited, Ni.”

“Good, you should be, m’gonna make you feel so good, lass.” He looked around before looking at you. “Wouldn’t happen to have lube, would ya?”

“Um, I might have to check, it’s been a minute since I’ve used it on myself.” You blushed as you admitted your toy use. You stood up, smiling down at him. “I’ll be right back, unless you want to come with me?”

“I’ll be right here, love.” He said with a smile. If he was being honest, he liked the idea of having sex by candlelight on your living room floor, and feared that going with you would have the opportunity to change locations. As you checked your bedroom for the lube, he looked around your living room, and smiled. It was starting to grow darker outside and the room was lit by the candles. He felt a very romantic vibe, and was so excited to be the first one to give you this experience.

You walked back in with the lube in your hand, holding it up triumphantly. “Got it!” You sat back on the floor, handing it to him with a smile. “I’m kind of nervous, but I’m definitely ready.”

He gently laid you back with a chuckle, leaning down and pressing a kiss against your forehead. “I promise you’re in good hands, just relax, lass.” He opened your legs again, gently rubbing your inner thighs. “You have such a pretty pussy, y’know that?” He opened the lube, squeezing some out onto his fingers. “Take a deep breath, petal.”

You obeyed, taking a deep breath, but you tensed up a bit when you felt him gently insert a finger. “Sorry, Ni.” You took another breath, relaxing on your exhale as he began to push it in and out slowly.

“S’alright petal, just relax.” He slowly picked up the pace, moving his finger back and forth. “You’re doing so well, such a good lass, aren’t ya?” He asked, slowly inserting another finger.

“I am, Niall. So good for you.” You rested your head on the floor, letting out a soft moan as he rocked his two fingers back and forth, and you couldn’t believe that this is what you’ve been missing out on. “Fuck, faster please?” You asked, wanting to stay polite while also getting him to pick up the pace.

“Atta girl, asking nicely.” He picked up the pace, smirking down at you. “Glad you’re enjoyin’, petal.”

You could feel your orgasm building up, and you knew it wouldn’t be much longer. “I think I’m close, Ni.’ Once you said that, he pulled his fingers out, causing you to let out a soft whine at the emptiness. “Ni?” You ask, looking up at him with confusion to see him stroking his dick.

“Don’t worry petal, just getting ready, lay back down,” He set a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you back into a lying position. “I don’t have a condom, but don’t worry, I’ll be sure to pull out, sound good?”

“Yeah, I like that idea. I’m so ready for you, Niall.” You shut your eyes again as he lined up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. You went to tense up, but remembered that it wouldn’t help. You let out a gasp when he pushed in, and he stopped for a moment, looking down at you with concern. It took you a minute to adjust to his size, but you eventually gave him an approving nod, and he began to move again.

“Fuck petal, yer so fuckin’ tight, you sure you’re okay?” He asked as he picked up one of his hands, using it to run his fingers through your hair. Once you nodded, he smiled. “Alright lass, I’m only gonna go half, make it a bit more comfortable for ya, is that alright?’

You thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s probably best, it’s okay with me.” You loved that he was so open with communication, it showed you that he truly did have your best interest in mind, and that he wanted to make you as comfortable as possible. Once he was in, he gave you a nod.

“Alright petal, tell me when you’re ready.”

You took a few moments to adjust to his size before nodding. “I’m ready, Ni.”

With that, he started gently thrusting in, pulling back, and thrusting in again. A mix of pain and pleasure coursed through your body as you laid your head back on the carpet, looking at the glow on the ceiling from the candles. By now, the sun was mostly down, and the street was dark from the outage. The only thing lighting this session was the soft glow of candlelight, and you thought that was sexy as well. “Can you please speed up a bit?” You asked, shutting your eyes and letting out a moan when he did just that. You weren’t expecting it, you thought he was going to say something first. “Fuck, just like that, Ni!” You brought your arms up, setting your hands on his back as he pumped into you, looking at him and not breaking eye contact. God, he looked so fucking beautiful like this. You couldn’t help but set a hand on the back of his head,and pulled him in for a kiss while he kept thrusting. As you kissed, you could feel your orgasm building once more, and you broke the kiss. “I’m close again, Ni.”

“So am I baby, let go, I want you to cum on my dick.” He kissed your neck, picking up the pace just a tad.

The slight change of speed was enough to send you over the edge, and pleasure waved through your body as you hit your high, finishing all over his dick. You heard him let out a loud moan, followed by a loud “fuck!”, and he quickly pulled out, adjusting himself so his dick was over your chest, groaning as the cum shot out, covering your breasts and chest. It was hot to watch him spilling out onto you, you would definitely remember it.

As you both came down from your highs, you looked at Niall with a smile. “That was so good, Ni. I loved every second.”

He smiled down at you before laying on the floor next to you. “Glad you enjoyed it, lass. Do you want to go clean yourself up, or do you want to maybe taste it?”

You shook your head. “No, I want the first time I taste you to be from sucking you off, so why don’t I go clean up, and we can try some other things?”

Niall’s eyes lit up, and he nodded. “Yes, absolutely! Go on, petal, why don’t I come with you this time and you can show me the bedroom?”

Hearing that made you excited, and you stood up, pulling him up with you. “I think that’s a great idea.” You quickly blew out the lit candles before grabbing a flashlight and leading Niall to your bedroom.

You weren’t afraid of thunderstorms anymore.

A/N: hi everyone! Currently in the middle of a 24 hour readathon, but taking a break to post this for yall! please enjoy, i love the single dad aspect hehe.

all the love x

[ghouly-boiiiii]

My Name Is Cooper

Chapter 1

A Finger for a Finger

(Lucy x Cooper Howard / The Ghoul)

Next Chapter >>

Tags: angst, fluff, romance, humor, banter, femdom, alcohol and drug use, eventual smut

Summary: Follows Lucy and The Ghoul on their journey after the events of Season 1. Lucy has to come to terms with what she’s learned about the company and people she once trusted with her life and the future of the world, and the bounty hunter's rough exterior starts to break down as he begins to see his old self in her.

After coming across an abandoned vault, they decide to spend the night there and take advantage of its remaining amenities. While there, Lucy finds some of Cooper Howard’s old movies… The same movies she grew up watching with her dad. She puts them in, and as she recalls distant memories and struggles to cope with the truth about her father, she comes to another startling realization…

Authors Note: I just wanted to write something with these two. Not sure where it's gonna go, but I've got at least 3-4 chapters in mind, and there will be smut somewhere in there lol. I just think they have an interesting dynamic and much potential for witty banter and an interesting romantic/sexual relationship. Especially with the idea that Lucy may or may not have had a major crush on the actor Mr. Cooper Howard. And that The Ghoul may or may not become an absolute lost puppy for the first woman who looks at him in *that way* after 200 years of being a walking corpse.

It's gonna be an adventure. Let's see where this takes us, y'all. lol

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2,016

SPOILER WARNING: Contains all the spoilers

No trigger warnings except eventual sexy time with a zombie man.

“You’re awful quiet there, Vaulty.” The Ghoul said, breaking a long bout of silence as he glanced over his shoulder at his human companion, with Dogmeat faithfully prancing beside him.

Lucy didn’t look up at him. She just stared at the ground, dredging her feet heavily through the sand. Dawn had long passed and the sun was now beating down, but she could barely feel the burn on her cheek as her mind raced with the things she now knew.

“You ain’t said a word since we left Cali… Hell, you ain’t even beggin’ for water.” He joked, trying to prod a response out of her.

“Lucy.” She said simply.

“What now?”

“My name is Lucy.”

“Yeah? I know that… So what?”

“That’s my name…” She looked up at him, her brow slightly furrowed and voice sharp with agitation. “I just thought since we’re gonna be traveling together, maybe you could use it sometime…”

The Ghoul looked over his shoulder again for a moment, grinning slightly. He seemed a bit surprised by her tone, but also somewhat amused. “Hah… well, alright then, Ms. Lucy MacLean.” He said mockingly. “Tell me somethin’. Whaddaya think we gonna find when we finally catch up with that daddy a’ yours?”

The vault dweller felt her jaw clench a little and her brow furrowed more. “Why are you asking me?”

“Oh, I just thought… you been down there in that vault all this time. You ought to know somethin’.”

“Ugh… No! I don’t know shit!” She snapped, raising her head up a bit more. “…In fact… I’m the one who should be asking you the questions!” The girl narrowed her eyes towards him, zeroing in on the back of his wrinkly, bald head. “How do you know my father?”

“Hah… well… that is quite a story.” He said with a snicker. “But I think we best save that for another day.”

“I want answers.” She demanded. “Besides, we’ve got a long way to go, don’t we? Might as well talk...”

“I’m used to travelin’ alone, sweetie… Kinda prefer the peace and quiet, if I’m bein’ honest…”

“Tch…” She scoffed skeptically. “You like peace and quiet… or is that just a nice way of telling me to shut up?”

The Ghoul let out a chuckle. “Nah… If I wanted you to shut up, I’d just shoot ‘cha.”

She blinked, then picked up the pace, jogging up next to him. “Alright then… let’s talk.”

He glanced over at her, then shrugged. “Be my guest.”

“What’s your name?”

“My name?”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned it before… What do I call you?”

“I ain’t got no name, sweetie.”

“You have to have a name…”

“Not no more, I don’t.”

“Well, I have to call you something...”

“Heh…” He huffed a bit. His voice was casual, but clearly holding back some irritation. “Then you can just call me ‘Asshole’.”

“Come on. Tell me your name.”

“It don’t matter...” He said with a slight scowl. “...The man that name belonged to died a long time ago.”

Lucy stared at him a moment, then looked away, taking several steps before turning back to him. “...What... was he like?”

The Ghoul stopped in his tracks, then leaned to one side a bit and tilted his head before turning to her in exasperation. “I said you could talk. Not ask me a bunch of stupid ass questions.”

“I wanna know…” Lucy said, tilting her head a bit too as she stood her ground. “I wanna know who you were before you became… you know…” She paused as she looked him up and down with a slight sneer. “...this…”

The two-and-a-half century old bounty hunter stared at her a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. His eyes shifted towards the barren wasteland around them where Dogmeat had decided to wonder while she waited for them to continue, then looked back at the young vault dweller. “You wanna know what he was like…?” He finally said, then his eyes moved to the distance ahead of them as he continued to walk. “Well… he was a lot like you…” The Ghoul stated with a scowl. “Naive. Hopeful... Thought the world was a... good place fulla… good people who wanted to do the right thing...” The distain in his voice was palpable.

“You were… like me?” She said, her tone was both surprised and doubtful.

“I told you, Vaulty. I’m you…” He reminded her. “Only difference between us is…”

“Time.” She finished his sentence.

He looked at her a moment, then turned away and said, “That’s right…”

Lucy got quiet again, staring at the ground as they continued to walk.

A period of silence passed between them. The Ghoul found himself glancing over at her a couple times, before asking, “You worried… what this wasteland’s gonna do to ya…?” He said, his tone oddly compassionate. “What it’s gonna turn ya into…”

She quivered a bit, looked up at him, then back down.

“Well… I don’t blame ya. I’d probably feel the same way, lookin’ at me…” He glanced over and smirked at her a bit, but she didn’t respond. She didn’t even look at him. So he continued. “I hate to tell ya though… It's already started, sweetheart… But I think you already know that…” He grit his teeth together for a moment and sucked in some air between them. “Not much you can do about it, but…” He let out a somber exhale, hesitating a moment before glancing at her again and saying, “You know… it ain’t too late... to go back.”

The girl blinked, then looked up at him with wide eyes. “Go back? To where…?” Her tone was suddenly rather upset. “To the vault? That place? That…” She shook her head. “No! No, there… there’s no way I could go back…!” She swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “Not after… Not after knowing... what I know now…” She choked back a sob and shook her head. “Just go back…? Back to my old life and pretend… like none of this ever happened? …I can’t.”

“Hmm…” The Ghoul ground his teeth a little. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that…” He took another deep breath. “That's the problem with the truth. Once you got it, you can’t put it back… No matter how bad you might want to.”

She swallowed hard against the painful lump in her throat, then looked up at him. “...Why did you let me come with you?”

“Again, with the questions…” He said with an exasperated breath. “We both lookin’ for the same thing, ain’t we?”

“...And why should what I'm looking for matter to you?”

“It don’t. Not really, but… Shit, we goin’ in the same direction.”

Lucy was getting annoyed by how The Ghoul kept running the conversation in circles, but she wasn’t about to give up. “I don’t understand why you’re being nice to me now… Why don’t you just take me hostage again?”

The old bounty hunter snickered a little. “Well, cause I ain't got no reason to, sweetheart. I don’t just go around tormenting people for the fun of it. What kinda person you think I am, huh?”

“Huh.” She scoffed at him as if she couldn't believe the stupidity of that question. “Well… kind of… not a very good one, if we’re being completely honest.”

“Heh… Well, you’re not wrong about that... But the real question is… if that’s how ya feel, why’d you decide to come with me?”

She looked down, shook her head and shrugged. “As long as you’re not dragging me around with a rope, I think I’d rather take my chances with you than be out here on my own again…”

“Yeah… life’s full of hard decisions, ain’t it?” He turned towards her, lowering his head a little and looking at her from under the brim of his hat. “You know… I underestimated you... Ms. Lucy MacLean. I thought a cushy vault dweller like yourself would be nothin’ more than roach kibble.” He looked forward and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “But… you got somethin’ in ya. Somethin’ that’s drivin’ ya… Maybe it’s that curiosity a’ yours. Maybe a misplaced sense of justice… or… maybe something else. Whatever it is… it gives you that edge. You got that survival instinct… Aw hell, maybe I’m a little curious too…”

“Curious… about what?”

“To see how far you’re willing to take it… before you do go crawling back into that hole.”

She frowned deeply and glared at him. Her voice was quiet and shaky, but firm. “I’m… never going back down there… I don’t care… what happens up here.” Her voice began to waver and crack as she spoke. “I’m never going back… I can’t go back…”

“Yeah…” He nodded approvingly. “Because you don’t take no bullshit. That’s what I like about 'che. I respect that.”

The vault dweller, or rather former vault dweller, huffed a little. “Great… I’ve earned the respect of a murdering monster…” She said sarcastically as she wiped her eyes. “That makes me feel just… so much better…”

“Call me what you want. But like I said… just give it a little time...” He smiled a little as he continued to stride forward. “...And well... to tell you the truth, I guess I feel like I owe you one, you bringing me those vials and all….” He chuckled a little at himself. “What was that you said? Golden rule, motherfucker?”

She smirked a little, feeling justified. “Yeah… but… I... was also the one who... broke them in the first place… so…”

“That’s right, you did.” The Ghoul said playfully. “But then, I suppose I shouldn’t have been using you as bait in a poisoned river.”

“Yeah… Yeah, th-that’s right! You shouldn’t have!” Lucy yelped, suddenly getting animated as she recalled the ordeal. “That was… not very respectable behavior at all, sir!”

“Yeah… rude, huh?”

“Very rude!”

“Down right ungentlemanly.”

“The most ungentlemanly!” She huffed and puffed with righteous indignation. “A-and you know what? You do owe me! Yeah! You owe me big time, mister! You cut off my finger and… and I saved your life! I didn’t have to do that!”

The Ghoul let out an amused laugh. “Oh… I still got your finger.” He said, pausing to wiggle it in front of her.

Lucy squinted in horror as she recognized the out-of-place digit, crudely stitched onto the stump of his missing index finger. Then her eyes got wide as she leaned back, sneering in disgust. “You are… a sick, sick man.”

“What? You want it back?”

“I… found a replacement already… thanks.” She said, holding up her own bluish-gray finger.

“Never let a good body part go to waste, I say.” He said with a grin. “Besides, you did bite one a’ mine off first. Only fair you replace it.”

“Y-you kidnapped me!” She threw the blame back at him.

The Ghoul let out another laugh and Dogmeat barked in excitement. “Ah, Vaulty… it’s gonna be fun havin’ you around, ain’t it?” He said before continuing to walk.

She scoffed as she began to follow, but her voice softened a bit. “Okay… so… so does that mean I don’t have to worry about you cutting off any more of my fingers…? Or… anything else like that?”

“Well… now that depends, don’t it?”

“On what?”

“Whether you plan on bitin’ off any more a’ mine, darlin'.” He said, looking over at her. “Eye for an eye. Finger for a finger. You bite my ass, I bite your ass. Golden rule, motherfucker.”

Lucy scrunched up her face in an attempt to hide that she was trying not to laugh. “I-I… I will do my best…” She said after containing herself a little and raising her head up in a dignified, but also mockingly serious way. “But you know… sometimes… a fellas gotta eat a fella… right?”

The Ghoul laughed heartily, amused at her attempt to match his humor. “Well, in that case… next time I think you better swallow.”

She felt herself crack a smile, then began to laugh as well.

To be continued...

Next Chapter >>

[the-badger-mole]

How about a prompt with Zutara meeting doing some kind of volunteer work?

"There must be something Dad can do to get us out of this." Zuko rolled his eyes as his sister complained for what had to be the tenth time in as many minutes. He wasn't thrilled, either, but he'd chosen to have a more philosophical attitude towards their court mandated community service. After all, as his uncle always told him, it was good for the soul to give to those in need. That, and he hated talking to his sister and her friends.

"It won't be so bad," Ty Lee, ever the optimist, comforted her friends. "I bet there'll be some interesting people there."

"Doubt it," Mai mumbled. She had said it low enough so Zuko was pretty sure he was the only one who heard her. She met his eye and rolled hers, inviting him to join her in her quiet derision of one of her oldest friends. Zuko managed a half-hearted smirk, but kept his thoughts to himself. At least Ty Lee was trying to make the best of things.

"As if I have nothing better to do with my Saturday then spend it passing out food to people who are too lazy or stupid to feed themselves," Azula snorted. She put her foot up on the back of Zuko's seat.

"Get your foot out of my back!" Zuko snapped. Azula huffed and gave his seat one solid kick before she put her foot back on the floor.

"I don't know why you're complaining so much," Mai said, looking at Azula in the rearview. "It's mostly your fault we're in this mess in the first place." Azula scowled at her.

"I didn't twist your arm to break into that warehouse," Azula reminded her. "I didn't force any of you to come with me. It wasn't my idea to bring booze, either, Mai." Mai just shrugged, keeping her eyes on the road. It was true enough that Mai had been the one to bring the vodka and whiskey she'd stolen from her parents' collection, but the four teens would probably not have been caught if Azula hadn't decided it would be fun to set a fire and burn several boxes of very expensive imported teas. Had the owner of the company not been Zuko and Azula's uncle, they would probably have all been tried for arson, instead of given probation and community service. Zuko shut his eyes and tried to think of anything but the disappointment on Iroh's face when the cops had led Zuko and Azula out of the still smoking building in handcuffs. It had been three weeks since the incident, and aside from a brief appearance to speak at their hearing the week before, Zuko hadn't seen his uncle since.

"We're here," Mai announced. She turned into a parking lot and found a space near the exit. The four piled out of the car and headed reluctantly towards the entrance.

Hama's Haven for Families was a slightly run down brick building that used to be a school. It had been shut down almost two decades earlier and used as surplus storage for the school district for a while. Then eight years earlier, someone had bought the building from the city and converted it into temporary housing for women and families with children. They provided meals, counseling, and for the youngest residents, daycare until the adults could find work and permanent housing. Why this was chosen as their service project, Zuko wasn't sure. It wouldn't have been his first choice of project, and he was certain his companions wouldn't have even put this place on their list. But the judge had given Iroh the right to decide what punishment he thought would fit the crime his family and their friends had committed against him. Zuko figured the least he could do was not whine about it.

"Ugh!" Azula's face contorted in disgust. "I can smell them from here. Don't they get showers?" Zuko gave the air a subtle, experimental sniff. Immediately, he identified the pungent scent his sister was complaining about as manure, probably from the community garden behind the building. It wasn't his favorite smell, but Azula was way overreacting.

Inside the building was bustling with activity. There was a cheerful energy in the air, which shocked Zuko, considering why they were there. A few people wore light blue t-shirts with Hama's Haven across the front in graffiti block. On the backs, the shirts read either Volunteer or Staff. A man stood at the front desk, expectantly. He was tall and muscled in a way that suggested a lot of physical labor, rather than spending hours in the gym. He wore his chin length brown hair half up. He didn't seem to be much older than Zuko and Azula's father, though his dark blue eyes had a weathered look. As if he'd seen a lot and had learned stoicism in the face of it. He looked familiar to Zuko, but he couldn't place the man's face for the life of him.

"I'm Hakoda," he greeted them politely, but not with much warmth. "Are you here for the mandated service?"

"What was your first clue?" Azula snorted. Zuko felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"We are," he said quickly, trying to mask his sister's rudeness. He stepped forward and held his hand out to Hakoda. The older man eyed Zuko's hand hesitantly for a moment, before grasping it in his. Hakoda had a strong, firm hand shake. Zuko could tell he was holding back, but when Hakoda let him go, Zuko felt the blood rush back to his hand with a throb.

"Nice to meet you," he said, turning his attention to the clipboard in his hands. "I see we have you for one hundred and fifty hours. You have to be here once a week for four hours a shift, so that'll take you about nine months. But if you'd like to get through your mandatory hours quicker, you're welcome to contact me for opportunities during the week. We have tutoring and after school activities, along with an upcoming food and clothing drive. We could always use a few more hands.

"Sure," Mai scoffed. If Hakoda heard her, he ignored her. He turned to the desk and reached down on the other side, coming back up with four t-shirts, light blue with the shelter's name on the front. Azula and Mai regarded them distastefully. Despite the instructions to come to their shift in comfortable clothes they didn't mind getting dirty, the two girls had come in the same chic, dark clothing they would wear any other weekend.

"No thanks," Azula said with a sneer. "I'm fine with what I've got on." Hakoda raised an eyebrow at her and Mai.

"I'm afraid it's not optional," he told them. "This is the uniform that staff and volunteers wear. You're expected to be in them for every shift you have with us."

"I'm not wearing this cheap, tacky thing!" Azula insisted.

"Ditto," Mai said, folding her arms across her chest.

"That's fine," Hakoda said with a shrug. "But you won't be permitted to stay and work. You're welcome to take that up with Judge Jeong-Jeong."

"Guys, we won't get the hours we need," Ty Lee whispered nervously to her friends. "The judge said we could still be sent to juvie." Azula and Mai shot Ty Lee the most scathing looks, and Ty Lee shrank back a bit. Zuko turned his head to roll his eyes. He wondered, not for the first time, how someone like Ty Lee had ended up in his sister's inner circle. He took his t-shirt and slipped it on over his clothes. Then he looked at the three girls expectantly. Ty Lee hurried to get hers on over her long-sleeved pink shirt. Hakoda favored them with a smile and approving nod before turning back to Azula and Mai.

"I'm not putting that on." Azula's jaw was set mulishly. Mai didn't say anything, but she fixed Hakoda with a cutting scowl.

"Your choice," Hakoda shrugged. "Either put the shirts on, or get out. I'm sure if you ask really nicely, Judge Jeong-Jeong will get you on highway clean up. Maybe orange jumpers will suit you two better."

"I'll tell my father about this," Azula hissed at him. "He can buy and sell you. He can have this dump turned into a parking lot."

"Do what you've got to do," Hakoda scoffed at her. "In the meantime, you have your two choices. So what's it going to be? I don't have all day." Azula and Mai glowered at Hakoda. But in the end, they didn't have much of a choice. Mai snatched a shirt from Hakoda, and after a moment, Azula took the last one. Hakoda's eyes gleamed smugly as the girls yanked the shirts on over their dark, designer blouses.

"Now that that's over with-"

"Dad!" Hakoda was interrupted by a girl running up to the desk with an exasperated look. Zuko suddenly realized why Hakoda looked so familiar. His daughter bore a striking resemblance. Katara Imiq was in Azula's class, the year below his, but she was in a few of his advanced placement classes. She was also on the track team with Azula, and in drama with Ty Lee. He and Azula both seemed to be in constant competition with the over achieving Katara in some form or another, though Azula was far more antagonistic about it than Zuko was. Beside him, Azula went rigid and shook with quiet rage at the sight of her chief rival for grades, athletics and popularity. Katara, though hadn't even seemed to notice them yet.

"What's up?" Hakoda asked.

"Sokka can't get the dryer to work," Katara explained with an annoyed huff. "It turns on, but it won't heat up. He put the last load in an hour ago and it's still soaking wet!"

"Can you get Bato to handle it?" Hakoda asked.

"He's not here today, remember? His niece's dance recital."

"Right." Hakoda sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm on it. Can you take over for me? These are the new volunteers. They need their assignments." For the first time Katara seemed to realize that there were new people there. She froze when she saw Zuko and Azula, but before she could say anything, Hakoda had passed her his clipboard and jogged off to the laundry room. Katara's jaw clenched, but she took a deep breath and greeted the four with a cordial, if clipped tone.

"Did you get to look at the list of jobs that need to be done?" Katara asked them. She was met with stony silence, but it didn't seem to bother her. "Did you have a preference for where you wanted to work?"

"As far away from these disgusting beggars as possible," Azula said snidely. Katara's mouth pressed into a thin line and she glowered at Azula.

"Fine," she said. "You can sort the recycling."

"What?" Azula gasped.

"The residents also volunteer here," Katara explained with a saccharine smile. "Recycling sorting is the only job where there are no disgusting beggars currently signed up to work."

"I'm not touching garbage," Azula snarled. Katara met her with a feral looking grin of her own.

"You can leave if you want," Katara said. "I'm sure the judge will be happy to give you the poshest cell on the block." The four balked in surprise. Katara smirked smugly, assuring them that she knew exactly why they were there.

"Whatever," Mai snorted.

"Is there anything left in the kitchen?" Ty Lee asked shyly. "I-I'm pretty good at cooking." Katara's face softened a bit and she even smiled a little at Ty Lee.

"We actually have chefs who do the actual cooking, but they could use someone to help prep and wash."

"Perfect!" Ty Lee agreed with alacrity. Then Katara turned to Zuko. Her lip curled as if she smelled the manure from the garden.

"I don't have any preference," he told her. "I'll go wherever." Katara blinked in surprise. She had been expecting the same attitude from him as from Azula. Zuko was glad to have proven her wrong. He bit back a smirk as she went down the line of duties to be done.

"The maintenance crew is painting the stairwells," she told him. "They need another set of hands."

"Fine," Zuko nodded. Katara looked at him appraisingly for a moment. Zuko stood straight under her scrutiny. Azula was determined to make this as unpleasant for the people running the shelter as possible. Zuko was just as determined to prove that not every member of the Kaji family was as obnoxiously snobbish.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

[good-to-drive]

Re: your post about that tweet saying the Beatles were around the first time women were allowed to be horny,

I feel like arguing they were sex-symbols only tells half the story. Other artists like Elvis were marketed on their sexuality, but they were also seen as dangerous by the older generations, which the Beatles weren’t. Largely by Brian’s design, the Beatles were made to be almost entirely non-threatening (not entirely, because he also made the choice of them getting the mop top hair cut and the Spanish heeled boots to show they had a mischievous/slightly dangerous side).

My step-dad grew up in the Beatles generation and has said multiple times he thinks the Beatles had a larger political impact than, say, Bob Dylan, largely because their non-threatening aspect allowed for girls to explore their sexuality in a way they hadn’t really before, completely changing the way the music industry works. Elvis was censored for swinging his hips on live air, but in the early years the Beatles most explicit lyrics were about holding your hand. Obviously some songs like “Please Please Me” had implications of something more, and we know girls were horny for the Beatles but it wasn’t in the overt way others before them were. Even the medias portrayal of the smart/cute/quiet/friendly or funny one allowed girls to explore what qualities they liked or at least thought the would like in a boyfriend. The Beatles really did create youth culture! The 60s are basically the first time in the more modern day girls were given social power, because it was their attention and money radios were suddenly catering to.

However, I also don’t think saying the 60e were the first time women were allowed to be horny - although I do think it’s important to keep in mind there was a sort of movement at the time of the 60s being the time of the “modern woman.” Frank Sinatra was causing excitement in the 40s much in the same way the Beatles were. There are tons of shows of his that had to be cancelled halfway through or were shut down because of rioting by the youth who was attracted to him. Even before that, when cigarette companies were trying to cater to women there was a bunch of pseudo-science pushed regarding female sexuality and how cigarettes were vaguely phallic.

All that to say, no the Beatles weren’t the first thing to ever cater to women’s sexuality, but they were very unique particularly in how they were marketed.

This is SO interesting, thank you so much!! (For those who are curious, this is the tweet in question.) I think some comments were also getting at this idea that while it wasn't entirely new for women's sexual appetites to drive consumption it was new/unique to market to female sexuality in the exact way that the beatles did. It feels like their sex appeal was part of the product but it was packaged in a way that was safe and nonthreatening, which by extension makes the force driving that consumption feel safe. So interesting to think about that in regards to political impact and how establishing the insane marketing force that is appealing to young women relates back to social power and having a voice. Establishing young women as an extremely lucrative demographic and how this may shape what's seen as viable or desirable for a mainstream media product, which by extension may shape culture....

Thank you for the info, this is great!!

[loveyhoons]

FORGET-ME-NOT | two

pairing: park sunghoon x f!reader

synopsis: sunghoon never believed in love due to his biggest secret: having the disease hanahaki. when he meets you on a whim one night, he realizes he may have found his cure...you. will love be both in your favor, or will it all crumble before it even started?

word count: 2.3k words

warnings: cussing

taglist: OPEN! send in an ask or comment if you’d like to be tagged

@tinyteezer @riksaes @uppuzvrse

note: hewo everyone T__T sorry for taking super long with an update, i recently graduated uni, (yipee) i will be updating more frequently now since it's summer time :D enjoy this little update, things are about to get a bit interesting from here!!

It was known to everyone that not only was Sunghoon smart and charismatic- but he was born into a wealthy family. 

He and Jay were from affluent families who ran family businesses which were passed down from generation to generation. Their families were talked about quite a lot in the business aspect of things and most certainly amongst the rich side of town. 

With Jay being an only child, he was already set to take over the family business. As Sunghoon was 1 out of 3 children, he was expected to follow in his older brother’s footsteps and help the family business. Despite his brother being next in line when their father retires, Sunghoon was still expected to work in the family business and at least manage one aspect of the company.

Sunghoon’s dad thought of his disease to be a myth. He never really understood what happened or bothered to know in the first place. He believed if Sunghoon married someone else, the flowers would stop growing and he’d be magically cured. He dismissed Sunghoon’s feelings when it came to how he felt or if he ever felt the flowers growing sporadically on their own. 

Sunghoon felt as if he disappointed his dad growing up, feeling like it was his fault he could not live up to his expectations. As much as he wished for a cure to come by that easily, life did not work that way. Maybe that was why he was so excited to go to university; to escape his dad’s demands. 

Maybe that was why he was so shocked when he met you. He was unsure what it meant to meet you that evening but why did you walk in so suddenly-where were you all of his life if you were right there all along? 

The morning after the party, Sunghoon woke up with the worst headache he’d had in months. As he walked out of the bathroom to get a painkiller, he saw Jake sitting on the couch. With the other 2 already out for their classes, it was just him and Sunghoon left in their apartment.

“Care to tell me what happened between you and Y/N last night?” Jake asked as he looked towards Sunghoon.

“She didn’t think much when she saw the petals, don’t worry,” Sunghoon replied, grabbing a glass from the dish rack. He walked towards the water pitcher as he looked back at Jake. “she thought someone broke my heart.”

“No, you were mumbling to Jay and me when we walked into the apartment. Something about her favorite flowers.” 

Sunghoon stopped in his tracks. He fully turned around after taking the painkiller.

“I was going to say something eventually,” Sunghoon sighed. “But I don’t know if she may be the one I was looking for.” 

“If it gives you hope, we’ll see her more often, or I’ll try my best to convince Chaehyun to bring her when we go out.” 

“You guys are bothering the poor girl, she looked like she didn’t want to be there at all last night.”

“Man, stop being stubborn. Maybe she’s the girl you’ve been looking for all along.” Jake stood up from the couch and shook his head. He then walked into his room as Sunghoon put his glass down. He was just tired of false hope. What if this whole thing was just a bluff, he thought to himself.

It has been around a week since Sunghoon’s little encounter with you and yet he could not get you out of his head. Sure, he was curious when he’d see you again but he kept his distance and his mouth shut. Whenever Chaehyun would visit your guys’ apartment, he’d peek a little out of his bedroom door to see if you would come trailing in behind her but it was no use. 

He figured you were busy with school and whatnot; he kept silent. He was thinking of ways to even approach you if you both ever do cross paths. It was a new emotion for him- too long for someone. He thought it was all too surreal, except for the fact visiting his parents over the weekend made things take a turn.

His mom called saying she and his younger sister Yeji missed him a lot. As the campus was an hour away, it was easy to go and come back. Even if he hated running into his dad, at least he could see his mom happy just for a little bit. 

“Sunghoon needs to marry her as soon as he graduates.” Mr.Park says sternly. Sunghoon peeks through the doors of his dad’s office as he sees his parents talking. He squints a little through the opening, trying to get a better look at what was happening.

“How many times do I need to tell you, that our son’s case is different? He can die at any given moment-” 

“Bullshit.” Mr.Park sneered. “Either he marries or I am disowning him. I can’t stand this any longer.” 

Sunghoon frowns a little as he lets out a sigh. He then turns around to find his sister Yeji standing by him. She shakes her head as Sunghoon whispers to stay quiet. The two then walk down towards Yeji’s room as he walks her in.

“Hoon, is it true what dad said?” Yeji asked as Sunghoon closed the door.

“No, don’t listen to him, he tends to overreact.” 

Sunghoon sat on the blue beanbag in the corner of the room as he put his head into his hands. He then looks up to Yeji who sits on her bed, feeling helpless.

 The siblings were used to this. 

Every time Sunghoon would come home, their dad would bring up the arranged marriage and leave it at that. There never was a family dinner that just focused on other things; it was only strictly business and academics. It was a constant reminder of why Sunghoon wanted to move out in the first place; he was tired of this icy atmosphere. 

“You’ll figure something out though right? I don’t want you to leave forever.” Yeji pouted.

Sunghoon shook his head, letting out a weary smile. “I’ll think of something. I won’t die on you and Mom, I promise.” 

“Y/N, your article is our most-read article once again,” Soobin cheered as he showed you his monitor screen. You walked over to his desk, looking at the number of reads again. 

You had a bit of writer’s block in the past week since your little encounter with Sunghoon. You can still picture all the flower petals that were on the rooftop floor and how some petals flew around in the night sky as if they danced with the wind. You could not get the sight out of your mind, especially with Sunghoon right in the smack middle of it all.

It felt absurd in honesty; you never expected to paint a different picture of Sunghoon in your mind like that. So there you were in your bedroom last night, scrambling to publish another article, hoping the weekly readers would still enjoy the new article.  

You widened your eyes. “Wow…that many reads already? I just published it last night-” 

“I’m telling you Y/N, if people like it they like it,” Soobin replied. He then pointed towards the comment section and smiled. “You see people even recommend what stories they want you to discuss, the interaction is great.”

“Soobin, you sound a bit too excited talking about my articles, spill what’s on your mind,” You jokingly said.

There were rumors around your department that Soobin is already looking for his replacement. 

The school paper merely did not run on elections but mostly depended on qualifications and who the team thought was most fit out of the upcoming cohort in the following semester. With the selection process taking around a month or so, the prospects would have to sit and wait until they’d get a special email.

In your case, Soobin already found his possible candidate. 

“Well, if you haven’t noticed, the seniors and I are impressed with your work. I think you’d be perfect to be my replacement next fall.” 

You shook your head, letting out a little laugh. “Me? That’s a bit too much Soobin.” 

“I know it seems too early to think about, but we think you’d be the perfect candidate. Please consider.” 

“I’ll think about it.” 

You had to think about it soon. It seemed like Soobin was counting on you. 

“What are you reading?” Sunghoon asked Jake as he and Heeseung sat in front of him.

The three decided to wait at the library for Jay as he was in a class right now. “Oh the school paper, there’s this author who’s been writing about Greek myth and it’s been going around the campus.” 

“Isn’t that the paper where journalism students can write whatever topic they want and publish it?” Heeseung asked as he brought out his laptop.

Jake nodded his head as he showed Sunghoon and Heeseung his phone screen. “Yup. See look at this, the author has an interesting take on this week’s story.” 

Sunghoon peered and raised his eyebrow. He looked at the username and the story that was being discussed. He turned his head a little, intrigued by the content, immediately feeling as if the gears in his head were about to turn. 

“Isn’t Y/N a journalism major?” Sunghoon asked.

Heeseung nodded his head. “Yea, why you ask?”

“Nothing I was just curious…” Sunghoon trailed off. He started to smirk to himself, thinking of a little plan. 

Maybe he can get closer to you after all.

You said a quick thank you to your professor, waving goodbye. As you walk out of the room, you see girls whispering and hovering by the side of the classroom. Curious about what they are looking at, you then look to your right to see Sunghoon leaning against the wall on his phone. 

Taken aback by his presence, you decided to walk the other way, not thinking of it too much. 

As you were about to exit the building, a hand opened the door before you. You looked up towards Sunghoon as he tensed up a little. You blink your eyes a bit too quickly, turning your head in confusion. “Sunghoon?”

“It’s been a while Y/N, can we talk if that’s okay?” Sunghoon asked.

It was awkward. You and Sunghoon sitting alone on the rooftop of the journalism building. You decided it was best to talk to him here, knowing that he was drawing quite the attention at the exit of the building.

The two of you looked at the view of the back of the campus, standing in silence. You would occasionally steal glances at him as he did the same. You needed clarification as to what he wanted- it was odd for him to even show up in the first place. 

“Uh, are you feeling alright?” You ask.

“And why wouldn’t I be?” Sunghoon asked as you rolled your eyes. “Well, that whole fiasco at the party. The flowers?”

“That was weeks ago, I’m alright.”

You questioned Sunghoon’s sudden shift of attitude. He seemed calm and collected earlier, why was he acting like the complete opposite right now? He was acting like a jerk.

“Well, that is nice to hear. Anyways why did you want to see me today?” 

Sunghoon rubbed his chin a little. He looked towards you and sneered. “You’re that writer who writes that myth column on our paper, right?” 

You looked at him confused, shaking your head. He wasn’t wrong- but he shouldn't know that either. “I don’t write for the paper, I help with the weekly school news on our school’s Instagram page instead.”

“Cut the bullshit Y/N,” Sunghoon replied. “I remember you telling me how you liked the flowers that were on the floor. They’re your favorite flowers are they not?” 

“I also like tulips, peonies, and hydrangeas. Doesn’t mean I only like forget-me-nots.” You sighed. “Anyways are we done here? I need to get to my next class in the Creative Arts building.” 

“Y/N, I can see right through you, I know it’s you.” 

Sunghoon stepped closer to you. You gulped a little, taken aback. 

“Well, it’s not me. Bye Sunghoon, have a nice day.” You gritted your teeth a little, letting out a little forced smile. You walked away, going straight back into the building.

“Everyone will know your little secret if you leave right now,” Sunghoon spoke in a louder voice. “But if you stay here just for a bit to hear what I have to say, I’ll keep your secret.” 

You stopped and turned away to face him. “Excuse me? Are you threatening me?”

Sunghoon sneered as he walked closer to you. As he stood right before you, he crossed his arms. “Let’s make a deal.” 

You scoffed, trying to look away. “And out of all the girls you can choose, why me?” 

Sunghoon knew you weren’t wrong. Many girls would say yes to the little plan he made in his head. They wouldn’t hesitate to give him an answer and just roll with it. But with you, he knew this was the only way he could be closer in proximity with you. Maybe it was the immense pressure he felt knowing his life was on the line or the disappointment and disdain his father felt towards him. 

If this was the only way he could get rid of the flowers, so be it. 

“Because,” Sunghoon clicked his tongue. “Your favorite flowers give me fucking hell.” He felt his chest burn a little, breathing a bit heavier. 

You stood before him, feeling your heart race. You were lost in your own thoughts, baffled by his words. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.” “Just-just stay here and listen to what I have to say. I am at wits end right now and I think you’d be helpful for what I’m about to do.” Sunghoon talked a bit softer as he looked intently at you. His gaze started to soften a little as you stood there in silence. 

You took in a deep breath and sighed. “I really need to get to class Sunghoon, I don’t have the time-” 

“Okay then I’ll wait for you and after we talk, about that?” Sunghoon asked.

“Fine.” You replied, in frustration. “But you better not waste my time Sunghoon.”

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© loveyhoons , 2024

[applejaax]

Blue Hour

Chapter 1: The Dreadful Implications of a Pizza Delivery Man

Steve dropped his keys on the table when he entered the apartment. Robin was nestled on the couch fast asleep under an afghan, with the tv mindlessly droning on in the background. He took the remote from her hand and turned it off, startling her awake.

    “Ya gotta stop falling asleep with the tv on, Robin. It’s gonna rot your brain with subliminal messages from infomercials,” Steve said sarcastically, dropping the remote down onto the coffee table.

    “Wow those are big words for you, Steve, don’t hurt yourself now,” she retorted, tugging the blanket over her head and rolling away from him.

   “Haven’t heard that one before.” Steve rolled his eyes and went to the kitchen.

   It was a barren wasteland in the fridge besides some fresh vegetables they’d gotten from a local farmers market for no apparent reason, a single jar of jam, and a few beer bottles. He took one and shut the door.

   “Pizza for dinner?!” He called out. Robin’s hand came into view with a thumb up in approval and disappeared again. He laughed and leaned on the counter, sipping from the bottle in his hand.

    For three years, since he moved away from Hawkins, Steve’s been living with Robin in Illinois. She had been accepted and enrolled in some private university. At first he was upset about her leaving him all alone after everything they’d endured. In the end though it was nothing but a blessing in disguise. He pitched the idea of them moving in with each other and how good it would be for them. Robin wasn’t too keen on it at first because she wanted to make new friends, or even meet a girl she could really connect with, and suspected he’d get in the way. That was a pretty deep cut to his ego at first, he wouldn’t lie. However, with much annoying pleading and begging on his end, she eventually agreed.

     His parents had opposed, especially his father on the premise that Robin and Steve were dating. Steve never fully expressed why that would never in a million years happen but all it took was a, ‘she’s not my type, Dad,’ and that was the end of it. His mother had been the one to fully convince his old man that this was a good thing for his son. Somehow, that worked.

   Now here they were. They stayed about 5 miles off campus in a rundown neighborhood. The rent was low and the standards of living even lower. Everything in their apartment was broken. The ceiling leaked, the floors creaked, and the walls were made out of paper machete. Yet, Steve never felt more at home. He’d rather live here in this dump than step one foot back in their hell-bound hometown. In fact, it was his worst fucking nightmare. This was paradise in comparison.

   He worked a pretty simple office job in a marketing company. It wasn’t ideal but it paid well and didn’t require him to have a degree. He’d gotten lucky, he was aware of the privilege that living in the city provided. Also, who his parents were and his surname did help too. Regardless, he no longer felt like a nobody failure the way he did in Hawkins. There were so many opportunities and options out here. He could truly flourish without second guessing himself anymore. Hawkins had nothing left to offer him and all it took was an outside perspective. He was happy he’d left. He hoped and prayed, for whatever reason there may be, he never had to go back there.

  That was wishful thinking.

   About an hour after Steve had called in their pizza order there was a knock at the door.

   “Robin, pizza’s here!” He called from his bedroom down the hall.

   “I’m busy! Get it yourself!”

    Steve groaned, pausing the movie he was watching and rolled off his bed.

   “You’re so lazy!” He threw the front door open. His eyes grew wider than saucers and it felt like lightening crackled under his skin as time seemed to slow.

    A pair of brown eyes like rich soil after heavy rain, brown curly hair to match in contrast to skin as fair as moonlight. A smile with dimples and lines in the cheeks that caused creases under the eyes that made them light up like fireflies. Steve was dreaming. He had to be. No way this was real. He wanted to reach out and touch his soft skin, when he knew he shouldn’t. He needed to ground himself and stop the impending spiral but it proved to be too late for that.

  Oh fuck. This is bad.

   Steve’s brain malfunctioned and he couldn’t form a single coherent thought let alone any words. His mouth moved like a fish out of water as he tried to form a sentence or even a sound. He simply gaped at the person in his doorway for an uncomfortable amount of time.

   “Uhm, sir?” The man waved his hand in Steve’s face. The cadence and pitch in his voice was all screwy. Not right at all. It snapped Steve clean out of this mortifying stupor.

   He blinked rapidly and swallowed hard, throwing the money at him, snatching the pizza, and slamming the door. He turned and leaned on it for support, trying to catch the breath that was steadily running further and further away from him.

   Robin came sprinting from the bathroom with damp hair and a shocked look on her face.

  “What the hell happened?!” She asked, Steve couldn’t respond, he was paralyzed. “Steve?” She approached him slow with her hand out.

   “Robin, he looked like him,” he managed to say around the lump in his throat. “He looked just like him.” He slowly hugged his knees to his chest and fought the tears that threatened to fall.

   This couldn’t be happening. Everything was going so well. Maybe even too good to be true but he didn’t care. There wasn’t a damn thing out of place and this was the landslide he’d been anxiously awaiting to fuck him over. He was cursed, he was sure of that. There was no other rhyme or reason for it.

   They moved to Robin’s room when Steve found the courage to even stand up. They sat on her bed with the pizza box wide open. The smell of cheese, tomato sauce, and garlic nauseated him despite the fact he was starving.

   “I mean, doppelgängers do exist! They say it’s dangerous to come across your own. It’s really fascinating. I guess it makes sense though because how can we have all these billions of people on the planet and not have someone look exactly like us, you know?”

    Steve didn’t say anything. He let her ramble on as if it would help when it certainly didn’t. This dug up memories he’d presumed he’d buried forever. He was certain he’d laid it all to rest along with his dead boyfriend. After this whole hot mess, he felt like he’d regressed to square one and all it took was a similar face. He didn’t want to throw himself a pity party but damn he couldn’t catch a break.

    “Steve…Steve!” Robin flopped on the bed next to him. “Am I doing it again…with the talking too much thing?”

     Steve sighed and picked up a slice of pizza, biting into it hesitantly and watched the cheese stretch.

    “Kinda,” he said with his mouth full.

    “Shit. Sorry. I’m not good with this sorta thing. Comforting people isn’t my forté. But I’m a decent listener…sometimes.”

    Steve stared at her for a moment, then mustered a smile. A mask that was quick to falter and dissolve away at any moment.

    “It’s fine. There’s really nothing either of us can do in this situation.” He set down the half eaten slice of pizza. His appetite was gone. “You’re right about one thing. I guess we’re bound to see someone who looks like someone we know or knew eventually.”

   “Yeah, but…I’m just- I’m so sorry.”

    “Don’t be. It’s nobody’s fault.” Steve could hear the strain in his voice. “Would you mind if I uhh-“ He signaled towards the door and Robin nodded encouragingly.

    In his bedroom, Steve curled up under his blankets and laid there in the dark for what felt like an eternity. The tears that spilled from the corners of his eyes had finally dried but it wasn’t over. Especially since now all he could do was torture himself with nothing else but the thought of Eddie.

    He meant the world to Steve and taught him so many lessons he wouldn’t have learned otherwise. His mind had never been more open than when he was with Eddie. He was someone everyone could rely on but nobody wanted to put their faith in. Steve did and it was so worth it right up until the very end. He still kicked himself for the period in which he regretted even meeting Eddie. Or that he wished they could swap places. It was only because the visceral pain of letting him go and moving on was something he could hardly handle. The wounds tore open so often that he let the memories of Eddie die, too, just to get some release from the heartbreak.

     It was like he didn’t exist anymore in Steve’s world and he preferred it that way as opposed to living the rest of his life in agony. There was no other way to let go besides that. And tonight, that man at his door, instantaneously destroyed walls he’d put his blood, sweat, and tears into building to free himself of Eddie and everything they’d shared. To put it lightly, this was a slap to the face and a boot to the gut. 

     He was gone. He deserved to be here but he wasn’t. He was never coming back. Steve had come to peace with that, and his grief, before he’d left Hawkins. It was one of the things that helped him cope the most. Now he had to pick himself up all over again and he hoped it wouldn’t take as long as the first time around, or both him and Robin were doomed to suffer.

****

    Steve didn’t remember falling asleep. He woke the next morning to a migraine, swollen eyelids, and the phone ringing off the hook. He shoved a pillow over his head and waited for it to stop. He had work today but he didn’t want to go. He felt like shit after last night. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling for a long time until the phone started up again and forced him out of bed.

    “What do you want?!” He answered gruffly. He sounded like garbage and felt even worse. 

   “Well, geez. Hello to you, too.”

    “Dustin!” He sighed in relief. “Wait, shouldn’t you be in school instead of bothering me at 8 in the damn morning?”

    “The city has changed you, Steve. I don’t like it.”

    Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Get on with it.”

    “Okay, okay. I’m not at school right now because I have something important to tell you. I couldn’t wait,” he paused for a beat. “I think he’s back, Steve.”

     Steve’s heart lurched and plummeted hard into his stomach. His sadness was overpowered by fear. His throat tightened up as panic rose. The room started to spin and he lost his balance, stumbling back into the wall.

   “Steve? Talk to me, man! Are you okay?”

    “I’m- good. I’m good.” He rested his head in his palm and slid down to the floor in defeat. “Tell me everything.”