#hi the 6 people who follow that last tag! [waves]

[jesterfrog]

[layyeschips]

Patron Ghost King AU #2

A sort of continuation to this

"hey bats, I think your kid's broken" "hn" "what's green flavour?" "what's a poptart?" "dude you don't know what a poptart is?!?!?"

Tim couldn't be bothered to figure what came from who, not when he's just trying to block out the unnecessarily bright lights of the watchtower. So he did the thing that any other self respecting tired student™️ would do, which is tossing the spare oreo he had in his suit pocket onto the hastily drawn summoning circle that one John Constantine brought with him on a piece of paper.

Now the last thing the League was expecting to happen was the lights dimming and green smoke coming from the printer paper that John took from who knows where.

---------------------------

Danny doesn't usually do this much paperwork in one sitting but someone just left a full mug of coffee on his shrine in hopes of being able to finish their assignment on time so he might as well finish the small pile he has on his desk. Ever since he accidentally gained a following he could taste the offerings and even feel the strong emotions from each one of them. It's not a really a big deal, pushing waves of calm/relax/focus doesn't take much energy and the offerings are nice too. So when he felt the pull of a summoning followed by drowsiness, exhaustion and the familiar taste of a stale oreo, who was he to reject the call of one of his favourite humans?

First of all, kind of rude to be summoning your patron by using such a small summoning circle but he'll cut the poor student some slack. Secondly, bright lights were definitely no good for this sleep deprived human, he'd probably be more comfortable if Danny turns it down a bit. The room full of heroes and magic users were unexpected but, hoLY- IS HE IN SPACE????? Did he say one of his favourites? He meant his number 1 favourite.

Sorry this was a bit short but feel free to write down/comment your own additions to this au. I also don't mind if anyone wants to write their own fic based on this but do tag me if you do!

Also sorry if I missed some tags, I tried. I won't be doing a tag list in the future because I don't want there to be people who are left out

[tag list] @gin2212 @jaggedheart11 @amercurio @raven-6-10 @onlyhereforthechaos @booklover9114 @fisticuffsatapplebees @overtherose @impulsiveasshole @shorterthanadverage @mimilikey @mnemovoid @chip-thief @mouzerequis @thegatorsgoose @spectralstardustandphantomnights @malice-of-the-sunrise @temporalhunter @nappinginhell @idkmrpianoman @vythika96 @seraphinedemort @meira-3919 @avelnfear @akikkobara @addie-lover-of-stories @ghostface3100 @yurineko135 @sjrose1216 @proper-idiocy @screamingtofillthevoid @sailor-goddess @the-legal-shipper @alcorbearson @dannyphantomphan @lady-time-lord- @starlightcat04 @liedboutmurder @jerithe @dixiwoods @gamma-radio @mirellacoco @blankliferain @violetfox2 @nexux-point

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 6

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings: tense conversation ahead, reader character has more loyalty than sense

word count: 1.8k

Chapter Selection

“Umm, why is Bruce Wayne requesting a table in your section?”

My head snapped up from the silverware I was rolling to meet Edna's eyes. “... Me?”

“Yeah, you! What's going on?” She leaned in conspiratorially; “you're not in any kind of trouble, are you?”

I laughed a bit awkwardly. “Not that I know of.”

“Hm… well, he's at table 6, so …” she waved me off.

I grabbed a pen and rushed over. Bruce Wayne was an imposing man up close. He looked a lot like Jason actually, and I had to remind myself that Jay was adopted. He followed me with his eyes as I approached; an intimidating, emotionless stare.

Before I could open my mouth, he spoke my name. Not a question, a matter of fact, as if we'd met before. “... Um … yes, sir. That’s me. … Can I get you started with anything?”

“Just a coffee please. And when you have a minute, get one for yourself and join me.”

I nodded slowly and went to tell the shift manager that I needed a quick break. The diner was practically empty at this time of night, so he gave me minimal shit for it, and I took the coffees back to the table. Mr. Wayne gestured for me to take a seat across from him.

 “… I'm sorry we're meeting this way, but it became … necessary.”

“... Necessary, sir?”

“Please, call me Bruce. … Um, yes; it seems my children have been a bit … overzealous in protecting their brother, and you are owed an apology.”

I blinked repeatedly. “... S- sorry?”

He sighed softly. “I believe you met Dick and Tim?” I nodded. “Dick informed me that you've been dating Jason, and … last night I discovered that Tim has taken it upon himself to run a background check on you.”

I blinked slowly. “Oh … Well, I guess that makes sense. Your family is well known, it's logical to want to know exactly who's getting close to you.”

Bruce stared at me, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly as I awkwardly sipped my coffee. “... You aren't upset?”

“I mean, it's definitely weird to hear, but I can't say I'm surprised. When I realized who I was talking to it did seem probable that something like this would eventually happen. … Anything interesting in the report?”

“... All pretty standard stuff. … It said you dropped out of college, may I ask why?”

I shrugged. “Life got in the way, and I didn't know for sure what I wanted to study. Couldn't justify the expense anymore if I didn't have a clear trajectory.”

“The Wayne Foundation has a higher education fund, I'm sure you would qualify for a scholarship.”

“That's kind of you, but once again - unsure what path to pursue. That money would be better spent on people who do know what they want from school.”

He observed me for a moment. “... Interesting. … Well, nevertheless; on behalf of my boys, I'd like to offer you our sincerest apologies. They know they've crossed the line, and have been reprimanded accordingly.”

“I … thank you, I guess? But I don't think I'm the one who needs the apology.”

“No? Your privacy was invaded.”

I shrugged. “They haven't bothered me since introducing me to Jay, which I already forgave them for because … well, it gave me Jay. But from what I've heard they've been doing more than the usual amount of protective-sibling stuff towards him, and he's getting frustrated about it. Seems like he's the one who'd want to know they're going to stop.”

Bruce nodded once, seeming to be deep in thought. “... Jason-”

“Wants to know what exactly you're doing here, Bruce.” I nearly jumped out of my skin. I hadn’t seen or heard him approach, but Jason was suddenly looming over the table, glowering at the man across from me.

“Jesus! … Jason, what the hell?” I cautiously reached for his hand, hoping to calm him down a bit.

His demeanor shifted entirely when he turned to face me. The sharp anger in his face slipped away as our eyes met, and the faintest hint of a smile slid across his lips. He gently stroked my knuckles with his thumb, turning fully toward me.

“Hey Doll~”Jason leaned over me, gently cupping my cheek with the tips of his fingers. “How’s my favorite girl?”

I blushed bright red, unable to stop the grin that spread across my face. No one had ever been so openly affectionate with me in public before, and while we had made some progress in the casual touching department, this was the first time he'd touched my face. I could feel Bruce's eyes on us, but mine were transfixed by the look on Jason's face. There was something in his eyes I'd never seen before; he looked focused and determined, but for the life of me I couldn't guess what he was determined about.

“I … I'm good. … What are you doing here?”

“Just taking out some trash, darling.” He smirked a bit.

“Jason, really, I wish you would calm down.” Bruce's sharp stare was trained firmly on the back of Jason's head. “Dick said you've been dating this nice girl for months, so I wanted to meet her. If you aren't going to tell me these things yourself, and you clearly aren't going to bring her by the manor, you can't be surprised when I eventually take matters into my own hands.”

“Don’t you know better than to harass pretty girls at work, Bruce? Someone should have taught you better.” 

The atmosphere had been tense in the first place, but now it was frigid. I gently squeezed Jason's hand, frowning. “Honey, that was uncalled for. He's not harassing me, he just came to apologize for your brothers.”

Jason growled a bit; “They have mouths, they can apologize for themselves.”

I sighed softly, gently cupping his hand on my cheek. “Jay, … why don't you take a seat at that table,” I pointed to one a little bit away; “and when my shift is over we'll go home.”

He frowned; “no, I'm staying right here.”

“Jason, you're going to get me fired if you keep bothering the customers, which is exactly what Bruce is right now.”

“You don't need this job, I'll-”

“I'm gonna stop you right there. This is not 50 Shades of Gotham, you are not my sugar daddy, and we are not married. You are not going to be paying my rent any time soon. If you want to watch over me you can take a seat. Otherwise I can give you my keys and you can wait for me at my place, or you can find somewhere else to be for now and I'll call you when I get off.”

A look of annoyance flashed across his face, and for a moment the green flecks in his eyes seemed more prominent than usual. “... If he says or does anything you don't like…”

“You'll be my knight in shining … denim. I know~” I turned my head a bit to kiss his palm. “Go on, now~ I'll come over as soon as I can.”

Slowly, he stepped back, letting his hand drop to his side. Glaring at Bruce the whole way, he took a seat at a nearby table, and Edna went over to take his order. Bruce looked me over, a curious expression on his face.

“... That was … interesting.” He mused, sipping his coffee.

“I’m sure he didn't mean what he said. He gets a bit defensive when Dick and Tim bother him about us too, but once he's had a minute to process he always realizes they're just trying to be brotherly … in a weird, slightly overbearing way.”

“Oh, that was all par for the course. No, what's interesting is how readily he backed down. It usually takes him hours to calm down enough to be rational when he's upset with one of us. …”

I clenched my jaw. Jason hadn't told me much about his family, but I knew they had a tense relationship, and I felt like I was starting to see why. “... It probably helps that I'm not treating him like he's being irrational. I don't know the full story, but I do know that something in his life taught him that you showing up here is a threat of some kind. A threat he felt he had to come here to protect me from. And while I'm sure that’s not what you mean by it, I also know that telling him he's wrong won't solve anything. He doesn't trust based on words, he trusts based on actions. I don't know what actions of yours have taught him this about you, but here we are. So if playing the protective boyfriend role helps him to feel safe, I'm not going to belittle him for that. And if you are, then I don't think we have anything else to say to each other… Sir.”

Bruce watched me through my whole rant, a detached look on his face almost like he was gathering evidence. It would be unsettling if I wasn't already seething inside. After a moment he smiled softly, finishing his coffee.

“... I'm glad he found you.”

“... You're … glad?” I blinked slowly. After all I just said, I hadn't expected to hear that…

“Yes. I think you'll be good for him… I do hope you'll consider coming to the manor for dinner one of these days; I know the boys met you briefly, but the others are curious as well. Particularly since Damian spoke so highly of you.”

“... He did?”

Bruce nodded. “... In his way. He said you strike a fair bargain.”

“I see … Well, meeting everyone will depend mostly on Jason. I'm not opposed, but I'm also not going to push him. You shouldn't either.”

“... Damian was right.” Bruce smiled a little, sliding a business card across the table to me. “Please do call if I can do anything for you, or for Jason. He … he doesn't reach out to us very often, even when he probably should. … I worry.”

I took the card, nodding slowly. This was definitely the weirdest interaction I'd ever had in my entire life. “... Alright. I'll do that.”

Bruce dropped far more money on the table than was necessary for two coffees -for a moment I wondered if he even knew how much two coffees cost- and made his way to the door. In the next instant, Jason was crouching next to the table beside me.

“Babe?” He frowned, looking at the card in my hand. “… He gave you his personal line. … What did he say?”

“... Apparently Damian likes me?”

He chuckled a bit breathlessly. “... Of course the demon child likes you… what else?”

I stood, pocketing the card. “... My shift is over in an hour. Do you want to wait for me? We'll talk after.”

He groaned softly; “you’re really gonna make me wait?”

“We'll get those doughnuts you like on the way home.” I gently squeezed his hand. He sighed softly, but smiled, lifting my hand to his lips.

“You’re torturing me, Doll…”

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika 

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a

(if you are in the taglist and are not getting notifications, please let me know - some of the tags keep looking different from the others and I'm not sure if it's affecting anything ... 🤔)

[thatsdemko]

strange realities - c.sainz

part 3: pining series

pinning series masterlist

warnings: anxious thoughts

a/n: hiiii thank you so so so much for all the love on the past two parts!!! xx we’ve got 6 more parts together of this ride 😁😁

yourusername

liked by yukitsunoda0511, scuderiaferrari, f1, and 4,579 others.

yourusername: Baku dump fting some nonferrari fan favorites 😁

tagged: carlossainz55, yukitsunoda0511, lewishamilton, & oscarpiastri.

456 comments

babyyuki: that one fan was right she always does include Carlos in her dumps…

lewishamilton: ☺️❤️

Charles_leclerc: no pictures of me?

yourusername: … oops😬 won’t happen again!

russellgeorge: I told y’all! she always adds Carlos!

ln4455: yeah maybe because she’s Ferrari’s intern media personnel?? I don’t think it’s that deep 🙄

Ferrariredflag: people making something out of nothing! thank u for the content once again 🫡

—

EARLIER IN BAKU

the sun was beaming hot, and the winds were just as cruel as yesterday. stepping out of the team car, you thank the driver before closing the door simultaneously as the one that arrives after yours. Carlos sainz.

“hola, amor.” his smile is awfully bright for the early morning as he approaches you, hand gesturing for you to lead the way to check into the paddock.

“you’re in a good mood this morning, ready for the race?” you ask scanning in your ID. you step into the paddock, Carlos following behind you; the fans begin to approach and your job starts.

you walk beside him, moving out of the way when fans want pictures, or when reporters shove their microphones into his face. he just smiles, answers the questions, and is careful not to step on your feet.

“I swear I can’t go anywhere.” he grumbles, fake smile plastered on his face as he shoots the camera for a thumbs up and a little wave. you attempted to move away in time, but you got trampled in the mix of fans, and your body was pushed back beside his.

“you’re too famous for me now.” you wink, elbow nudging his arm, he caught the words you said despite the fans yelling in his ears. it made him chuckle, “so now I’m out of your league?” he asks, turning to you.

“you were never in my league to begin with, sainz.”

—

the newspaper falls into your lap, it was hot off the press and pages were spilling onto the ground when you notice yourself and Carlos on the front cover, “whatever you have with sainz, it must stay professional.” is all you heard before they left. leaving you alone with the words and the pictures to take in.

not even an hour had gone by from the arrival. the white dress you had arrived in was stored in a cubby in the Ferrari motorhome, one you were now too afraid to step into. the mess was probably just unfolding in there, or nobody even dared to read the gossip. but whoever came in, clearly had enough time before the race to care. enough time to make taking pictures for the team harder than it needed to be.

“you ready for the race?” you ask snapping a few pictures of Charles before he got in the car. a hopeful smile forms on his lips as he nods to your question, “no pictures of Carlos?” he points to his teammate, who’s listening to last minute preparations from his team. he catches your eyes on him, those big brown eyes grow intense on yours, he sends a wink in your direction that instantly makes you turn away, despite the butterflies and temptations to turn back.

it can’t be like this. everyone’s watching, cameramen are everywhere. they could catch this, is all you could think. any friendly intimate moment was now to be paired as one of you falling in love with the other. why did it change so fast? two minutes ago you were his work friend, now you were someone the media claimed to be an interest in his eyes.

“just wave to the fans for me, Charles. please.”

—

“p3! oh congrats!” you wrap your arms around Charles, pulling him into your body for a quick hug before he finds Arthur and Lorenzo, sporting identical smiles to his.

it’s not a second later when carlos pulls in from p5. he’s not pleased, but he’s not overall in a bad mood. he climbs out the car, and pats and helmet taps are used in his congratulations. instead of the typical hug you always give both of the drivers, you try to stick with a high five, but he ignores it and embraces you like normal. like there wasn’t an article looming over your head.

“you did great, Carlos. we’ll get ‘em in miami.” you pull from the hug, looking into those sad big brown eyes, the only thing you can see under his helmet, “you did what you could, now vamos! we have media.”

he nods in agreement to your words, and finds Fred who gives the driver his words of encouragement, before he switches out from his helmet to a cap and trails behind you to the media pen.

the attention of cameramen and interviewers shift from the drivers that are currently standing around when you two walk in. he tries to stand out of the way, practicing his fake smile that only grows a real one out of you before he steps up to speak.

“Carlos, congrats on p5, what are your plans for Miami?”

“to have fun. maybe catch some rays in the sun?” he looks over at you in approval, but you only shake your head knowing Fred wouldn’t allow that much free time for him. there was always something the drivers could be doing instead of relaxing.

“what about you, y/n? will you be there with Carlos?” the camera shifts, microphone moves into your face, and suddenly you can’t breathe. caught so off guard, it’s like all of the air has escaped your lungs. your mouth is full of saliva as you try to find words, but nothing comes.

Carlos notices you had frozen. the cameraman’s smile widens, he caught you like a deer in headlights, and Carlos wasn’t having it. he didn’t like that cheeky grin, it made him step in, “she’ll be with the team, yes. she follows me everywhere, so there’s a good chance she’ll be with me.”

his hand gently presses against your lower back. it’s cool against your shirt, not having noticed your whole body had begun to heat up under the pressure of the camera. you can’t believe he does this all of the time, you see why it’s such a pain now having frozen in time.

you step aside further, allowing him to finish while you try to find your breath, or any air in your lungs. life seemed to have become too real in time, like the article wasn’t just a dream and people really were believing something was there.

“you ready to go, amor?”

“please, let’s get out of here.”

tags: @arian-directioner @alilstressyandlotdepressy @ak0ma @ruebennett89 @mochimommy2002 @flyingmushroomss @icarus-nex @solo-pitstop-vibes @xjval @chimchimjiminie16 @bookophiliac @tifosirussell @celestialpierre @moonvr @laneyspaulding19 @myescapefromthislife @formula1mount @moonyschocolate13 @bbubbllejisoo @summerslike11 @imperfectophelia @bhiees @cattt-tharsis @willowpains @chelsey01 @rqlstefanny @shinrjj @aldene-styles @roseamongthorns13 @imsorare @lucyysthings @aldene-styles @keonminshea @jspitwall

[adverbally]

Bedtime Stories

Written for the @steddie-spooktober day sixteen prompt “‘Would you please stop trying to scare them?’” | wc: 783 | rated: T | cw: none | tags: kid fic, parenting, bedtime stories

Note: For reference, Zachary is 10, Nathan is 8 (almost 9), Cassidy is 6, and Allison is 3. It isn’t specified whether they are somehow Steve and Eddie’s bio kids or if they were adopted.

———

Watching Eddie become a father has been one of the greatest joys of Steve’s life. It all seems so natural to him— encouraging the kids’ curiosity and creativity, playing with them, channeling his dramatic skills to read bedtime stories.

That’s what Steve is watching now from his armchair in the corner. Eddie sits in the center of the couch with the four kids surrounding him, holding tonight’s book at a distance. It’s a spooky story in honor of Halloween, one that has everyone screeching in delighted, age-appropriate fear.

Looking over the top of his own book, Steve gently scolds, “Would you please stop trying to scare them?”

“We’re not scared, Daddy!” Nathan insists, excitedly bouncing where he sits on the cushion to Eddie’s right. “It’s just a book.”

Cassidy nods seriously next to him. “Yeah, it’s not real so it can’t get us.”

“It’s just for fun,” Eddie affirms. His eyes sparkle with humor as he meets Steve’s gaze.

Steve pushes his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “All right, if you say so. Make sure to wake up Dad if you have bad dreams during the night.” He makes a show of returning his focus to his own book.

They get through a few more pages before another minor fright arises. Nathan grins as he shrieks, overjoyed. He’s so much like Eddie, from his big brown eyes to his love of all things creepy. Bugs, ghosts and monsters all fascinate him far more than the average second grader.

Cassidy, two years his junior, lacks Nathan’s passion for the subject but makes up for it in determination to be “grown up” like her older brothers. She beams now, pleased to be withstanding the scary story, even as her foot bounces at the suspense.

On Eddie’s other side, however, their eldest and youngest huddle together. At ten years old, Zachary is probably a little old for this story, but he leans against Eddie and listens nonetheless, eager to enjoy the closeness and time with the family. He keeps a watchful eye on Allison, the baby of the house at only three years old. She sits very still, her eyes wide in fascinated terror, beside Zach with his arm wrapped protectively around her.

“Dad,” Zach says quietly, nudging Eddie with an elbow.

Eddie follows Zach’s glance to his youngest sister, then turns to meet Steve’s eye in a silent request for assistance.

Steve sits his book aside and rises from his seat. To Ally, he asks, “Do you want to come read a different story with me? We can pick one that’s not so scary.”

Ally’s head nods rapidly. She holds her arms up, wanting to be carried.

“Okay, say goodnight to everybody,” Steve tells her as he picks her up with a groan. She’s getting so big, but Steve refuses to stop carrying his babies as long as they want to be carried, especially since Ally is almost certainly their last kid.

“Goodnight,” Ally says with a wave.

Steve carries her down the hallway towards her bedroom, the closest to his and Eddie’s room. Ally clings to him, as she tends to do these days even without a scary bedtime story, but he bribes her to get ready for bed with the promise of Daddy cuddles. Once her pajamas are on and her teeth are brushed (twice, since she’s practicing how to do it and Steve has to actually get her teeth clean), they curl up on her tiny bed to read Stellaluna. Ally watches Steve turn the pages between blinks that get slower and slower. Once the story ends, she stops fighting sleep and drifts off with her head on Steve’s shoulder.

It’s still amazing, the love and trust his kids put in him, even if he doesn’t feel worthy of it. Four little people who are learning and growing every day, forming their own personalities and talents and fears and passions under his guidance. It still hurts a little that they won’t have more, though the four of them are plenty. At least, for now, Steve has his baby asleep in his arms again, keeping her warm and safe and close to him.

He doesn’t want to try to leave and wake her accidentally, and he definitely doesn’t want to leave her to wake up alone if she has a nightmare about the first story of the evening. Instead, Steve settles himself as comfortably as he can, contorting himself to fit on the bed around his little girl, and falls asleep alongside her. His back will hate him for it in the morning, but he knows it’s worth it to hold onto these precious moments for just one more night.

[scuttling]

I Can Handle Me A Dangerous Man - Ch 5

Fandom: True Blood (TV) Pairings: Eric Northman/Female Reader or Eric Northman/OFC Word Count: 5,408 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Masturbation, D/s situations Summary: Supernatural snooping or nearly dating? You decide!

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

Her employment is uneventful in comparison for the next few weeks, and her skills are mostly utilized to flush out undesirable customers from the bar. Part of her thinks this is on purpose, because of the accidental escalation of her last project, but she doubts the small misstep was enough to worry Eric in any real way.

When he invites her to a vampire gathering, at the request of one of his friends, she’s happy to jump at the opportunity. Too many of her nights have been spent smelling stale beer and listening to repetitive, pulsing trance music played too loud for comfort. Pam had rolled her eyes when she noticed Cam wearing earplugs, but she could still hear thoughts just fine.

“I’d like you to mingle with the companions and let me know if something seems off. Melanie fears her pet has been hiding something from her,” Eric says as they walk into the foyer of a grand house about forty-five minutes from Cam’s apartment. Cam, clad in tight black pants and a lace top—the perfect accompaniment to Eric’s black v-neck sweater and jeans—lifts a brow, confused.

“Melanie’s… pet.” Cam trails off when she follows Eric’s gaze; she spots a dark haired vampire looping a finger through the O-ring of a woman’s collar necklace and pulling her in for a kiss, and everything makes a lot more sense. “Right. You got it. Listening for anything unusual, shady, secret related from the pet,” she clarifies. Eric looks down at her, seems concerned.

“Does their partnership make you uncomfortable? I should have asked.” Cam shakes her head, unsure if he’s inquiring because they’re both female or because one is clearly submissive toward the other. Either way, it’s not a problem for her.

“No, not at all. I was just… With vampires, you know, you guys use some different words that aren’t always natural for me: Maker, Sire, child,” she explains. She gestures, a small, private wave of her hand, at Melanie and her pet. “This relationship seems like something I actually understand.” There’s a long beat of silence between them before she continues, curious. “Do vampires ever enjoy being submissive?” 

That earns a soft laugh from Eric, and he guides her over to a staffed bar and orders drinks for each of them.

“Our tastes vary just as humans do,” he tells her as they wait. His eyes linger over her lips, and it makes her stomach feel pleasantly hollow. “What do you enjoy?” he asks, his voice low, and when the bartender places the martini glass in front of her she takes it, shakes her head as she sips.

“Oh no, I haven’t had nearly enough to drink to go there with you,” she says, patting him on the chest. “You go chat with the vampire daddies, I’ll keep my third ear open.” 

“And I’ll keep an eye on you,” he promises in a way that makes her body feel warm. She turns and walks away from him, not looking back but hoping like hell he’s watching her as she goes.  For an hour or so, Cam makes her way around the room, introducing herself to so many interesting people, professors and artists and scientists all entwined in one type of kinky relationship or another. Some are partnered, some are looking, some are poly, so partnered and looking; when Eric presses his palm to her back and she turns to face him, she exhales deeply, relieved that for a moment she doesn’t have to keep all the names and preferences and dynamics straight.

With vampires, but especially with Eric, her mind is always perfectly at ease.

“How are you doing?” he leans in to ask her, but he’s not looking at her; his gaze is locked on someone behind her, over her head. She turns to try to figure out who he’s staring at.

“So far so good — nothing but adoration from Melanie’s pet over there. That guy looks unhappy,” she says when she spots the offender who’s got Eric’s attention, a large, burly, bearded man who is scowling at Eric just as hard as he’s scowling back. She turns back to Eric, and he finally looks down at her, his eyes softening.

“It’s nothing,” he says at first, but one impatient sigh has him backtracking, remembering their agreement to be more transparent with one another, no doubt. “His name is Randolph. He’s not pleased with me,” Eric admits, and Cam moves closer, her voice quiet.

“Why, what have you done?” It’s clear by his expression that he doesn’t want to tell her, but he presses on anyway.

“He wonders why I haven’t claimed you yet,” he murmurs, leaning in. “He believes I don’t belong here, that I’m trying to force my way in for political reasons, and I think he doubts my cover story.” 

“That I’m a hot little thing you picked up at Fangtasia and I’m glamoured and enamored like a schoolgirl with a crush?” Cam teases, because she’s been reduced to that stereotype countless times, as someone who does business with vampires. Eric sighs.

“That you’re my…  I don’t like pet,” he says, and realization washes over her. Slowly, she nods her head.

“Oh. Vampire daddy thinks you’re my vampire daddy.” She’s embarrassed to admit that saying that sends a thrill through her, that being anything of Eric’s sounds like something she could be interested in. His eyes flash back to Randolph.

“Yes. He thinks I’m courting you, but I’ll bet he propositions you before the night is over, to test your loyalty to me.” 

Instantly, Cam is not happy with that projected schedule of events. It’s not even about loyalty, it’s… she doesn’t like the thought of flirting with anyone but Eric, here, though she can’t quite decide when that became something she even bothered to contemplate. She’s enjoying their closeness, in a back-burner kind of way, and she can’t imagine being this close to Randolph—or anyone—without being uncomfortable.

“Can you stop him from doing that without making a scene?” she asks, pressing closer, suddenly feeling uncertain for the first time at this otherwise very enjoyable party. Eric groans a little.

“I don’t think so. He’s not a sheriff, but he is powerful,” he admits. “Do you want him?” he murmurs, like he’d sacrifice his reputation and let her go off with this Randolph if that’s what she'd actually prefer. Without second thought, she shakes her head.

“I do not, no.” 

“Then perhaps I should get you out of here and we can give Melanie our regrets at a later time.” He looks down at her like he’s waiting for her input, and she remembers Melanie, who was so sweet to her when she introduced herself, so kind to invite them, and exhales. 

“Give me five more minutes, okay? I just want to touch the pet so I can be totally sure of her motivations.” 

“Okay,” he says, sounding like he would have preferred she ask for anything but, and she pats him on the arm and heads across the room to read the memories of Melanie’s significant other.

As she’d expected, the pet is deeply devoted to and in love with Melanie, although she did uncover a secret that should put the vampire at ease. She makes her way around the room, dodging Randolph, and she smiles to herself when she spots Eric’s broad back standing near the bar.

“Hey, so we’re good,” Cam begins as she walks up to him, until he turns and she clocks the look of concern on his face. She can feel it, too, and it makes her stomach turn. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, but I think we should go before I’m forced to use my words,” he says, pulling her closer. Cam takes that as a cue, winds her arms around him in an embrace to avoid looking like they don’t belong.

“He’s suspicious of us?” she asks, tipping her head to look up at him, and Eric’s mouth is set in a grim line. She doesn’t love the expression.

“He doubts our commitment,” he explains tensely, “and he thinks I’m neglecting you by not giving you what you so obviously need.” Cam frowns at that—Eric has given her so much already, including levels of confidence and security she hadn’t felt in a long time—and then, suddenly, realizes there’s only one thing they can do to prevent causing a big scene.

Cause a little scene.

“Let’s show him how wrong he is,” Cam murmurs, stretching up on her toes, and Eric meets her in the middle without hesitation. He’s firm but soft under her lips, her fingertips, and he quickly takes control of the kiss, pulling her closer, making a show of sliding a broad hand up to gently but possessively cover her throat. 

She moans softly at that, can’t help the way that singular action takes her level of attraction to him from a low, consistent simmer to boiling over rapidly in one weak breath. He squeezes just once, lightly, then slips her his tongue before pulling back to peer down at her; she knows she must look aroused, can feel her whole body flushing with want and heat and a little bit of shame at how quickly one kiss got away from her.

Eric takes her hand, and with a few hasty goodbyes they leave the party—though now it probably looks like they’re going to fuck in the back of his car instead of avoiding confrontation as originally planned. She thinks they might, for a moment, when he presses her back against the car door instead of opening it for her, panting like he’s catching his breath in a way she knows he doesn’t really need. 

She’s breathing heavily too, caged in by his big body as she is, and just when she thinks they’ve both calmed down Eric surges forward and kisses her again. Both of his hands come up to caress her face, and she gets her arms around him and holds him close as their mouths move. He’s pressed fully against her, his thighs on hers, his hips delicious and distracting, and when the kiss slows her mouth feels tingly, her body eager for more. She breathes against his lips, wets her own.

“Melanie’s pet found the engagement ring she’s hiding in her panty drawer,” she says quickly, before either of them can make another move. As much as she enjoyed that kiss—both of those kisses—she feels guilty now, like she’s taken advantage of a situation and she needs to find her way out of it. “So she’s been a little dodgy, and Melanie noticed. I’m thinking she’ll be glad to know that’s all it is, but maybe a little sour her surprise has been spoiled.”

Eric blinks a few times, frowns like he’s having trouble processing that information, then clears his throat, steps back to put space between them. 

“Oh. Good. Melanie will be pleased, then.” He glances up at the house, as if wondering if he should go back in and tell her the good news; before he makes a move, though, he turns again and looks at Cam with a somewhat softer, yet equally puzzling expression. “You did very well. Good girl.” 

His words hit like a punch to the stomach, like a plummeting rollercoaster, in the very best way; she squeezes her legs together, hoping he won’t pick up on the motion, then watches him lick his lips. 

“Thank you,” she replies, sounding breathless and shaky to her own ears. She can hear the blood rushing to them, feel the buzz of his mind, and something like contentment that she doesn’t have a name for but it obviously coming from him. It’s… distracting. He’s distracting.

Fuck, he’s good looking. Like a Swedish god, all brooding and chiseled and tall; like the Devil himself, she thinks, here to make her think of nothing but sin when she’s in his goddamn presence. What started as a working relationship has become so blurred in her mind, and now that they’ve kissed, she’s actually scared of what it may have awakened in her.

“I’ll call Melanie tomorrow,” Eric says, breaking her out of her thoughts and into the silence. He reaches behind her to unlock the door, and she hopes he doesn’t hear the hitch in her breath when he gets so close before pulling away. “Right now, I should probably get you home.”  Early that morning as he tries to sleep, images run through his mind at breakneck speed: Camila with a collar like Melanie’s pet, or on her knees in front of him, or spread on a bed with her hands bound and her legs open. He thinks he could drain her, choke her, make her see stars when she comes, maybe even make love to her…

He’s not sure exactly what he wants yet, only knows that he wants it with her.

His hands move of their own accord, and before he can process it he’s touching himself, fucking into his fist and thinking of her skin, silk soft and caramel colored, beneath his fangs. She smells like heaven, sun-kissed and tropical, and she’s in his nose all the time now: the floral bouquet of her shampoo, the delicate pulse of blood when she flushes near him. Her scent has soaked into his office, into his car, the walls of Fangtasia, and when his orgasm overtakes him his fangs extend, dreaming of sinking into the flesh of her throat or thigh and taking her in every way he can. As a vampire and a man.

He’s absolutely screwed, he thinks as he drifts blissfully to sleep, because now that he’s had a taste of her kiss, it will no doubt be the thing that consumes him. “You said you’d worked with shifters before,” Eric mentions the next time he sees Cam. He’d shown up at her house days after that kiss—that kiss, god—with another potential job for her, caught her just as she was getting out of the shower; as he sits across from her in the living room, he can smell soap and arousal on her, and he wonders if she touched herself in that shower, if she’s been thinking of him the way he’s been thinking of her. 

Her hair is wet and wavy, and she pulls it over her shoulder and nods. 

“Yeah, I have some experience with them. And, well, Sam is one,” she adds. Eric tries and fails to recall a shifter named Sam, and it must show on his face; Cam huffs a laugh. “Sam Merlotte, Sookie’s boss, owner of Merlotte’s Bar and Grill? The place we met,” she reminds him, like he could ever forget that night. “Did you not know?”

“I don’t even think I registered his existence,” he says honestly. It happens more often than he should admit. “But that’s good to know. I try to keep tabs on lone shifters in the area. Can you hear them?” he asks, which guides them back in the direction of the reason he’d come.

“Yes, but it’s not effortless the way it is with humans. Emotions are easier, they wear them on their sleeves, but for actual thoughts I need to focus.” Eric nods his head, steeples his fingers in front of him. 

“And what about skinwalkers? Have you worked with those?” Cam’s posture changes instantly, stiffens, but she shrugs in a way that gives the completely opposite effect—or it would, if he couldn’t feel her as clearly as he does. 

He can tell that this is an uncomfortable topic for her, and the last thing he wants is to pull her into something that will be difficult for her, but this task is important, will open doors for them in neighboring areas, maybe out of state. He needs more information before he decides.

“I know of them. They’re a bastardized version of shifters, they can mimic other people,  aren’t held to the same constraints as regular shifters,” she says with another lifted shoulder. “I’ve never met one, though, that I know of.”

“Do you know what makes them different? How they become skinwalkers? It isn’t passed down,” he tells her, and she nods at that, her expression shifting to something unreadable. 

“They’re killers,” she says, and it’s without judgment, to his surprise. “They gain the ability when they kill someone in their family. It would make prosecuting them pretty straightforward,” she says with a smile, though it’s not as bright as it usually is, doesn’t touch her eyes, “but shifters aren’t ‘out’ yet, not like you guys, so it’s kind of a moot point.” 

“You know more than I expected. I should be used to underestimating you by now,” he says, and she laughs at that, more like herself now. 

“Yeah, maybe you could quit doing that soon. I’ve been pretty helpful so far, knowledgeable, right?” she asks—and of course she has. She has no idea how much she’s already changed in him. 

“You have… which is why I’m asking about skinwalkers,” he says, shifting to look into her eyes. “If you aren’t comfortable doing what I’m going to ask, you need to tell me, but please know I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” she replies, and she’s giving him more credit than he thinks he deserves, but it makes him feel good all the same. “So what’s the job, boss?”  The job is transporting a teenage skinwalker from one area to another, where he’s going to be punished for impersonating a vampire—a trait Cam did not know they possessed. Those involved in the transport are Cam, obviously, and the skinwalker in question, as well as Eric and a witch he introduced as Lorna, who practically radiates power and energy. There’s a joke to be said there, about four different supernatural beings in one car—if a telepath can be considered one—but it’s not the time, so she holds her tongue. 

Eric is the one with the connections, and he knows where they’re headed, so he drives. The skinwalker sits behind him, bound by some invisible magic Lorna, who sits beside him, possesses. Cam feels mostly useless, because she’s sitting in the passenger’s seat with her eyes closed, her brain working hard to focus on the skinwalker’s thoughts. 

“The sheriff wants to know his motivations for impersonating a vampire, in the event it’s a larger conspiracy,” Eric told her on the way to pick up the pair in the back seat, and since they entered the car she has been channeling all of her strength and willpower into sifting through the shifter’s mind. 

It’s an ugly place, and she can tell without even touching him that some of that was nature, some was nurture, and some was just a kid left to his own devices. He doesn’t know she’s listening, probably didn’t know that was possible, so his thoughts go from one extreme to another: violent, pornographic, frightened, greedy, childish, terrifying. 

He thinks about the person he killed to become a skinwalker—his little brother—and she’s pretty certain he’s a psychopath who just happens to possess the ability to turn into a black bear. There’s no larger plot in the works here, no conspiracy, just a wreck of a kid with no conscience and more power than someone his age should possess. The kid can’t drink, can’t buy a pack of cigarettes, but he can shift into anyone he sees at will, and that actually blows Cam’s mind.

And her mind is aching by the time they cross the border into Mississippi, because once she started listening, a sort of sick fascination kept her there, like rubberneckers at a car accident. Three and a half hours after their departure, the sheriff of Jackson has the shifter in custody, and Lorna at his side to keep the kid bound until sentencing. She’ll be escorted home by a different vampire the next day, Cam’s pretty sure she heard someone say in the background of her brain. 

“Are you alright?” Eric asks when they’re alone in the car, his eyes on her face. “Should we stop to rest, for food?” She looks at him, but the words won’t come at first, and he reaches over to press his cool hand to her overheated cheek. 

It’s like bliss, and she sighs, pressing into his hand comfortably. She could fall asleep like this, with him propping her up, she muses briefly, but that would be strange and she’d have no way to explain that weirdness away. 

Instead, she blinks slowly and nods her head. “I’m okay. I have water, and snacks,” she reminds him, thinking of the bag of all-night rest stop goodies at her feet. “Probably best if we just head home. I’ll rest on the way, if that’s okay.” 

His touch is exceedingly gentle in response, and he pushes her hair back behind her ear, runs a thumb over her jaw, then puts the car in drive.

When they pull up to Cam’s apartment, she’s completely wiped, and despite her assurances that she can make it herself, Eric carries her inside and puts her into bed. Her eyelids flutter and she yawns, fighting sleep, but with hours until sunrise, Eric is in no hurry. He just sits beside her on the bed, speaking grateful words of praise for her assistance and running his fingers through her hair. The soft scrape of his fingers soothes her aching head, and she can tell it’s not long before she falls deeply asleep. Cam is invited to a party at Merlotte’s—an engagement party for the redheaded waitress, if she remembers correctly—and the text invite says that plus ones are welcome. That’s fortunate, Cam thinks, because she never goes anywhere without a vampire escort these days.

“Bill and Sookie aren’t happy I’m here,” Eric says suddenly in her ear, handing her a bottle of beer over her shoulder. She turns to see that a TruBlood rests in his own hand, type O+, just like her own blood.

“And you like it,” she accuses with a wink and a grateful sip of the beer. He narrows his eyes but laughs softly. 

“A little. It’s fun to watch that wrinkle on Bill’s forehead gradually become more furrowed. It’s like a shapeshifter,” he says casually, earning a double take from Sam who passes by with a tray laden with fried food. “I’m not sure if it’s a coincidence, but he’s always unhappy when I’m around.”

“Sure, a coincidence. You’re pure evil,” Cam teases, leaning back against the table, “psychologically torturing the poor man.” Eric turns toward her like she’s the only thing in the room worth watching, tips his hand and the bottle in it. He’s wearing all black—jacket, t-shirt, jeans, boots—and his eyes look bluer because of it, captivating her in a way she hopes isn’t completely obvious. She’s losing resolve when it comes to him, especially after the tenderness on her bed, the taste of his kiss.

“Ah, but it was you who invited me, so maybe you like it too. Maybe you’re not as good as you seem,” he says like a challenge, his lips turned up in a smirk, and she leans closer to him and takes another sip of her drink.

“I invited you because I knew you wouldn’t let me come alone,” she says, but truth be told, she’d invited him because she wanted to spend more time with him. Supernatural shenanigans aside, he’s usually busy when she hangs around the bar, and she craves his presence like never before. 

Eric takes a sip of his TruBlood, licks a drop from his lips, and watches her eyes as they track the movement. 

“Such a curious little thing you are: lawful and kind-hearted, but far from vanilla. I’m never quite sure what to expect from you,” he says, voice low. 

She resists swallowing at the implication of that statement, that word, pushes all thoughts of their intense kisses away and does her best not to let him see her stumble.

“So what you’re saying is I’m a lot to handle,” she teases instead, but he leans in closely just like he always does, pressing the fingers of his free hand against the tabletop so his arm is outstretched behind her. 

“I’m simply saying it would take someone powerful to handle you,” he clarifies, and she can’t help it, she shifts toward him at the thought of being handled. Her heart beats quickly in her chest, and he buzzes in her brain, anticipation like a cat waiting to strike its unsuspecting prey. It’s like a game to him, she thinks, this push and pull, making her want him, and she’s not so sure it’s one she’s prepared to play. 

She’s saved by Sookie, who steps up beside them and informs them that Bill wants to have a word with Eric—something about werewolves giving them shit a few days ago. Eric leaves her with a tip of his head, and Sookie leans back against the table beside her, her blonde ponytail flipping when she whips her head to face Cam.

“So I noticed you invited Eric,” she says cryptically, as if this is news to her, like he wasn’t literally standing in front of her just a moment ago. Cam takes a sip of her beer to hide a chuckle at that and swallows.

“Well, he’s hard not to notice,” Cam responds, eyeing the way Eric towers nearly six inches over Bill where they stand, across the room. Sookie follows her gaze, then smiles—sappy, the way she always does when she sees Bill—and follows it with a concerned frown.

“Is he giving you trouble?” 

“No more trouble than my last job. He runs his organization fairly, utilizes my skills in a way that’s comfortable for me. I have no complaints.” 

“Bill worries about you,” Sookie murmurs, bumping their arms together, and the thought is sweet, but a little maddening.

“He shouldn’t. I’m just saying,” she continues when her cousin gives her an unhappy look, “he wanted Eric to leave you alone, and he got that. I didn’t do it for the sake of your relationship, but it’s an inadvertent perk, so why worry?” Sookie sighs and brings her hand up, spends too much time staring at her own nails.

“Eric’s not like Bill, that’s all. He’s bloodthirsty. He doesn’t care the same way Bill does.” 

They’d been through this already, Cam thinks, but it is comforting to know they’re looking out for her, despite the suffocating way they choose to show it. Cam nods. 

“And I understand that. I accept it. I’ve worked with all kinds of vampires; some are warm and fuzzy, some aren’t, just like humans. I wouldn’t date a guy who doesn’t care whether I live or die, but I don’t mind working for one. I know I’m a valuable asset to him and that he’ll protect me because of that. That’s our agreement.”

“I don’t think Bill’s worried he’d let you die,” Sookie says, looking over at the men again. They’re looking over at the girls, and she averts her gaze quickly. “I think he’s worried that he wants you—and I am too, with the way he gets so close to you. He looks at you like a dog looks at meat.”

Cam can’t cover her laugh then, but she makes it quick and just shrugs as Sookie stares at her, the line between her eyebrows wrinkled and tense. 

“Harder to protect me from across the room, I guess,” she replies, even though she does feel a thrill at the thought that Eric could want her, for real. Sookie presses her lips together—and for a moment Cam swears she looks just like Gran—and nods her head.

“Yes, I’m sure that’s it,” she says, taking a sip of the drink in her hand, and when Eric walks back over to Cam, Sookie passes him without looking up or saying a word. Cam has a few drinks, and before she can ask, Eric takes her car keys and guides her to the passenger’s seat, opens the door for her. 

“I could stay at Sookie’s,” she says when he leans down to make sure she’s comfortable before closing the door. She looks up at him with deep, wide eyes that sparkle a little in the moonlight. “You don’t have to drive me.” 

“I want to drive you,” he tells her, and he tucks her leg in and shuts the door. He walks around the car and gets into the driver’s seat; when he looks over at her, she’s staring at him… fondly, maybe? He can’t quite tell, but it’s a warm feeling, one he enjoys. 

“As long as you’re sure we have enough time before sunrise. I don’t want it to cook you,” she says, and when he reaches up to put the key in the ignition, she rests her hand on his arm. “I like you too much for it to cook you. Okay?”

Eric feels his own rush of affection at her confession, at her touch, and he puts his hand on hers and leans in, looks seriously into her eyes. 

“I promise, we’ll be home before sunrise,” he assures. She exhales softly at that, nods her head a little, and they part, shifting into their own respective seats. 

The ride back to her apartment is quiet, though she keeps looking over at him for reasons he can’t decipher. Her gaze moves to the window when he catches her looking, and he finds that really… cute.

He used to be terrifying. He used to be formidable. Now he’s a designated driver with a crush, a glorified bodyguard to the girl he’s absolutely enamored of. How far the mighty fall.

He walks her to her door, proper escort that he is, and when she invites him in, he considers it. He’d considered it last time, too, when she was wearing tight running clothes, smelling like heaven, but nothing good would come of it then, and nothing good would come of it now. He declines, and she takes it in stride, but lingers in the doorway, the silence between them shifting from companionable to weighted. He looks her over, in her jeans and tank top, hair falling over her shoulder, and his mind… wanders. It’s unfair how beautiful she is, how close and yet still so very far away from him.

“Is there something else?” he asks eventually, taking a step closer to her, and as if she’s made up her mind, she nods resolutely. 

“Yes. I’m waiting for you to kiss me goodnight.”

Eric doesn’t need to be told twice. Slowly but purposefully, he climbs the stairs, and she’s watching him, looking at him like she wants him. 

He has to admit, he’s surprised by her forwardness—even drunk, he never would have expected her to admit to wanting anything to do with him, let alone to ask for it.

This kiss is gentler than the one they shared at the party, the one that went from purely a distraction to somewhat of an awakening for Eric. He’d been almost astounded that after all these centuries he was even capable of being surprised by his own desires. He holds her around the waist, brings a hand up to brush her jaw, and she makes a low, contented noise and wraps her fingers into the fabric of his jacket.

The hand on her face moves to caress her throat—the throat he thinks about more often than he should, the one he imagines licking and biting and squeezing at all hours of the night—and she sighs happily at his touch, presses into it like her body is asking for all the things her mind won’t let her say. 

It’s his hope that one day she will say them, that he’ll be worthy of the attention she gives him, the kindness, but he knows that kind of thinking can only lead to madness. 

He steps back to break the kiss, because if it were up to him they’d never stop kissing, but she didn’t ask for that; her mouth is kiss-red when they part, and she runs her tongue over it like she’s savoring him before nodding her head and reaching back for the door handle. 

“Thank you,” she says, and though his brain is buzzing with her, he just nods, keeps his cool, exhales. 

“You’re welcome.”  She’s glad he doesn’t linger this time, because she dreams of him.

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 6

Yes, my darlings, you read that right. I promised I would get back on this one once I was done with In the Midnight Hour and admittedly I did get side tracked for a week doing the Valentine’s fics, once that was out of my head I have written almost 7000 new words for this story. I went from half way through this one to a few hundred words into part 10. So yeah. Expect to see this one updated fairly regularly. I haven’t given up on Star Child I’m just trying to decide which direction the next part should take.

Also on the tagging, I HAVE REACHED MY HARD AND FAST LIMIT OF 50. I love the response this story has gotten. I do. I love you all. I love every reply, like, and reblog. It brings me so much joy, you don’t even know. But tagging is hard for my ADHD brain. I have gone up from 20 to 30 and finally 50 as my system improved but I think if I do any more than that I’ll go insane. So any future tagging requests will be ignored. Sorry.

The best way to keep update on these stories is follow me and set me on notifications. I rarely do a lot of reblogging these days (too busy churning out stories like whoa), so more often then not a post will be a story. I try to post at least once a day (some times twice if I’m trying to rush through the posting a bit like I did to make sure the Valentine fic got out in time without making people wait on Vamp!Eddie), just never at set time.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

*

They all met up by the fountain in the middle of the mall. Eddie was bouncing on the balls of his feet nervously.

“You sure he’s going to come?” Jeff asked.

Eddie tried to peer around the crowd. “That’s what he said.”

And then they spotted him. He was in a nice red sweater with a white polo underneath and fitted jeans. Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth in appreciation.

But then he noticed the gaggle of children following behind him. And what a gaggle it was. It consisted of Red, his new best friend, another girl with a thousand yard stare. The tall black kid must be the Sinclair boy. The remaining three were also very interesting. There was the short curly haired kid with no front teeth. The last two were both dark haired, but the one on the right was darker. Hair and attitude, judging from the rounded shoulders and down cast expression of the other boy.

Steve sighed. “I’m sorry I’m late. Dustin called asking me to take him to the arcade, only when I told him that I was going to the mall, suddenly they all wanted to come.”

“And then I got roped into this because they wouldn’t all fit in Steve’s car,” a voice called from the back.

The person jostled his way to stand next to Steve. Jonathan clasped Steve on the shoulder. “I gave Will money to call me when you’re done so I can pick up him and El. Make sure he doesn’t spend it on the gumball machine.”

Steve nodded. “Thanks, man. I’ll see you later.”

Jonathan nodded and waved goodbye to everyone, but especially the timid one. Which Eddie figured must have been Will.

“Your children, I presume?” Eddie asked, eyeing the thirteen year-olds warily.

“Yup,” Steve said with a put on expression. He pointed to each of them in turn. “That’s Dustin, Mike, Will, Lucas, Max and El.”

Eddie did the same to his friends. “I’m Eddie, these are Jeff, Gareth, and Brian. Or collectively, the band Corroded Coffin.”

“That’s bitchin’,” El said with a smile.

Steve ducked his head as he tried not to laugh.

“Hell yeah, it is,” Jeff said, taking an immediate liking to her.

“All right,” Steve said, turning to the kids. “You are to stay in pairs at the very least. And you know who your partners are. Will and Mike, Max and El, and Dustin and Lucas. Regardless of what you are doing, you will meet up here at 2pm. No later. I have plans with these guys at three and I’m not going to be late because of you guys a second time.”

There were a lot of eye rolls but everyone agreed to meet at the fountain at two.

Once they had left, Steve turned back to see that all four of them were struggling not to laugh.

“No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “Go ahead and laugh. Because fuck knows it’s hilarious.”

So they promptly burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” Gareth wheezed. “It was like watching ducklings.”

“Yes!” Eddie agreed. “My dude, I hope you are charging their parents for this.”

Steve shrugged. “It’s not like I need the money.”

They all just shook their heads.

Eddie clapped his hands together and rubbed. “Right, Stevie, this is how it is going to go. You’ll have one hour to get the most outrageous gift. Ten dollar maximum.”

“Each person or total?”

“However you want to swing it,” Jeff said. “But forty bucks is a lot.”

Steve nodded. “I guess my one concern is that I don’t know you guys very well and I don’t want to offend anyone.”

“So take Eddie with you,” Gareth said. “And then for the last ten minutes split off to buy something for each other.”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, “that could work. What do you say, Stevie?”

Steve shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

Every one but Steve set a timer on their watches. Steve’s wasn’t a digital one, so he couldn’t.

“On your marks, get set,” Brian said. “And go!”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand and suddenly he was being dragged along.

Steve giggled. “Where to first?”

“We are going to Suncoast,” Eddie said with a grin. “It’s the best place for all your metalhead needs.

“Lead on, MacDuff!” Steve said with a grin.

Eddie finally let go of Steve’s hand as they neared the store.

“I found out in drama that a lot of the sayings and words we use today are because Shakespeare couldn’t find the right word and made them up,” Steve said nervously.

“Wait, really?” Eddie asked, coming to a complete stop. “Like what?”

“Well, ‘Lead on, MacDuff’,” Steve said, “just for starters. It’s from Macbeth. Green eyed-monster. Just loads that I can’t think of off the top of my head.”

Eddie stood there for a moment blinking. “If they had taught that in English, I think would pay more attention.”

Steve laughed. “I know, right?”

They entered the store and everything had a dark red neon glow to it and it was clearly separated between the movie part of the store and the music part of the store. It was almost jarring. The movie part was dark like the inside of a movie theater. The music part was well lit and almost sterile white in its design.

They wandered around the music section. And they stopped by the minuscule instrument section. It had mostly accessories but also a couple of guitars. Mostly acoustic but one or two electric as well.

“This is pitiful,” Steve said staring at the selection.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, dude,” Eddie said. “There is an actual record shop with a full on instrument section. But that is not the point of this.”

Steve stopped by the drumsticks. “Gareth is the drummer right?”

Eddie nodded.

“I’ve been to a couple of concerts and I saw that the drummer had a bucket of sticks...”

“Are you asking if you should get Gareth more drumsticks?” Eddie asked. Steve nodded. “Go for it.”

“What’s his favorite color?” Steve asked.

Eddie frowned, but Steve pointed to the drumsticks on display and the had all sorts of different colors and patterns.

“The black ones with the flames on them, for sure.”

Steve grinned and picked them up. They got a couple more things here, but it was time to move on.

They hit up the stationary store, the weird little shop that sold incense and little Egyptian figurines, and Hammond’s Toys.

As they were passing Shapiro’s on their way to Hammond’s Toys, Steve found his gift for Eddie. It took every bit of will power not to just rush back and grab it, afraid it would be gone by the time he got back.

Eddie came up to him. “All right, Stevie. This is where we have to part ways. We only have ten minutes left and we need to get each other something, too.”

Steve smiled and nodded. He doubled back to Shapiro’s and quickly bought it. He raced to the fountain to be there first. He sat down on the edge of the fountain, his packages tucked under his legs so people wouldn’t steal them.

It wasn’t long before the others started showing up. Brian showed up first.

“How the hell did you beat me, man?” he asked as he sat down next to Steve. “I’m always the first to arrive.”

Steve blushed. “I got lucky.” He was practically vibrating with anticipation.

Brian eyed him suspiciously. “And you got a present for everyone?”

Steve pressed his lips together and nodded.

Gareth was the next to show up. “Now that’s just embarrassing. Being beaten by Brian is one thing, he’s a shopping guru. But Steve Harrington, too? However will I get over the shame?”

Jeff laughed from behind him, having just shown up himself. “You’ll live.”

Eddie was the last to arrive showing up exactly at the hour.

“Ooh,” Jeff teased. “By the skin of your teeth. Is Steve-o here really that hard to buy for?”

Eddie grabbed his knees, panting for breath. “No,” he huffed. “Just on the other side of the fucking mall.”

“So,” Gareth said turning to Steve. “Now for the next phase of our little get together. We meet up at my house at three and exchange gifts and play a one-shot.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “Is that like a D&D thing?”

“Yup!” Brian said gleefully rubbing his hands together. “It a story meant for a single day instead of multiple days like a campaign.”

“Yeah,” Jeff said. “We roll up quick character that are meant to die and just go to town no real rules. Just fun.”

Steve nodded. “Sure I could do that.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got twenty minutes before the kids show up.”

The other three backed away slowly.

“Yeah,” Jeff said, “we aren’t going to wait for that mob.”

“Oh, hell no,” Brian agreed. “I’m sure they’re great kids and all but I have three younger siblings, if I wanted chaos, I’d hang out with them.”

“Middle schoolers, man,” Gareth said, “are the plague of the earth. See you at three.”

Steve laughed. “Agreed on all accounts. I see you at Gareth’s. I’ll get the address from Eddie.”

The three boys walked off, shoving and pushing each other, laughing as they made their way to the exit.

“So what about you?” Steve asked. “You going to run before the hoard gets here?”

Eddie laughed. “I should. Leave you to the wolves.” He grinned. “But nah. I want to properly meet the kids that Steve the pied piper of Hawkins has taken under his wing.”

Steve blushed. “I wouldn’t call myself that. They barely listen to me.”

Eddie’s face softened. “I’m sure that’s not true. I bet the little sponges are just soaking up everything you tell them.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “That would explain the language problem.”

Eddie tilted his head to side. “What language problem?”

“They swear like sailors.”

Eddie blinked a couple of time before he burst out laughing. “Having trouble not swearing around kids, Stevie?”

“You would be swearing too if you had to deal with them all the time,” he said with a shake of his head.

“So why do you do it?” Eddie asked.

Steve huffed out a sigh and kicked the side of the fountain with the heel of his foot. “Most of them don’t have great home lives. Except the Sinclairs, of course. Especially when it comes to caring adult men. I know what that’s like, so I try to be that for them.”

“Huh.”

Eddie didn’t have much time to comment on that because the first of the terrors had arrived.

The two dark-haired boys that seemed joined at the hip.

“Hey, Mike,” Steve greeted, “hey, Will. Did you already call Jonathan to come get you?”

Will nodded.

“Good,” Steve said. “Eddie here DMs for his friends.”

Both heads turned to him in shock.

“There is no way,” Mike said. “Steve would never be friends with someone who likes D&D.”

“Hey!” Steve protested. “I’m friends with you assholes!”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Fine. Steve wouldn’t be friends with people his own age that play D&D.”

“Mike...” Will protested, speaking up for the first time. “What’s your favorite class?”

“Bard. It’s kinda self-insert type of thing,” Eddie said. “I play guitar, so I get the class. Um...second favorite would druid. I have a twelfth level druid named Kilmar Goatfiend in a campaign my club is doing right now.”

“You have a D&D club?” Dustin asked coming up from behind Will and Mike. “No way!”

“Yep!” Eddie said with pop of his lips. “The Hellfire club. Lenny Fitzpatrick is president this year. Next year, it’ll probably be Janice Montgomery.”

“You have a girl in your club?” Lucas asked, think of his sister Erika.

“Girls don’t play D&D,” Mike growled.

Steve hit him on the back of the head. “Oi! Your sister played. She’s the one that taught you. Show her some respect.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Nancy Wheeler plays D&D.”

“Did,” Will clarified. “She’s the one that gave me my wizard robes to DM in.”

“You dress up?” Eddie asked. “That’s so cool.”

Will blushed.

Just then girls arrived both of them eating ice cream cones.

Dustin spotted them and gasped. “You got ice cream cones?” He turned to Steve. “Why didn’t we get ice cream cones?”

Steve stood up and put his hands on his hips. “Because they saved their money and bought themselves ice cream cones?”

Max stuck out her tongue at him and El giggled.

“You better finish those up before you get into my car,” Steve said wagging his finger at them.

“Hey, I could take Max home,” Eddie said with a shrug. “I’m heading that way anyway.”

Steve looked at Max. “It’s up to you. You can go home with him or I could drop you off at Hopper’s and you and El can continue to hang out.”

Max thought about it for a minute. “I’ll think I’ll go home with Eddie and hang out with El tomorrow.” She turned to El. “Is that okay?”

El nodded. “I wanted to spend time with Will and Mike today.”

Mike blushed.

“What about you two?” Steve asked. “Where am I dropping you two off?”

Dustin and Lucas just shared a glance and shrugged.

“Well then you two can sort it out in the car,” Steve said and then turned to Eddie. “So what’s Gareth’s address?”

Eddie pulled out a pocket notebook and pen and scribbled out the address. “There you go, see you later, man.”

Steve took the piece of paper with a smile. “Do you always carry a notebook and pen with you wherever you go?”

Eddie grinned. “Sure, sometimes the muse will strike while I’m out and about so I need something to jot down lyrics or chord progressions as needed.”

“That’s sooo cool,” Mike said, a little star struck.

Will and Lucas looked over at each other and rolled their eyes. Eddie fought back a grin.

They split off, with Will, Mike and El, staying at the fountain to wait for Jonathan.

Part 7  Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19 Part 20  Part 21

@shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites @garden-of-gay @anaibis @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @jinxjinn @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @dangdirtydemons @lovelyscot @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread

[afterdarkprincess]

Fear

Pairing: Sami/Jey Rating: Mature Word Count: 1,326 Summary: Seeing the carnage backstage, Jey fears for Sami's safety

AO3 Link

tag squad: @harmshake @elementaldoughnut12 @jeysbvck @southerngirl41 @imabillyami and @feelschicken (let me know if you want added! or if I'm forgetting anyone!)

Warnings for canon-typical violence and panic attacks! Full list of tags on AO3

----

Jey feels on top of the world, the crowd screaming and moving in time with his music.

He knows better than to get too jazzed- getting into the MITB match wasn’t even half the battle, and who knows who else might qualify. But it feels good to win, feels good to give that to the crowds that have supported and cheered him on for the last 6 months.

Jey thinks of Sami, backstage at Gorilla no doubt, waiting for him. No one has been more supportive than him. Their on-screen relationship had bloomed into something more back in the fall, neither was ready to label things with the nature of their profession and Jey’s family situation, but Jey has never loved anyone the way that he loves Sami Zayn.

After coming back from injury, Sami had been the one to insist that Jey focus on his solo run in the lead up to Mania as he took on Gunther.

It was hard watching the man he loves get pummeled week in and week out, but seeing him with that Intercontinental Championship meant more than having a few extra minutes of screen time together.

Meanwhile he hadn’t managed to do anything other than get a few viral moments.

It’s frustrating to say the least, but Jey has faith in himself. Sami has faith in him. And so do the fans.

He chooses to exit through the sea of people, same as his entrance, so they can do one more wave.

Then the music cuts out with a static hum. And the already dim lights in the arena go dark.

Something feels… wrong.

Over the fast beating of his heart and the murmurs of the crowd he can hear music, unsettling but familiar and dear all the same.

It’s Bray’s music.

A swirl of emotions flood over him, bittersweet grief and joy at the tribute. And then he sees movement, a figure crawling from the lit doorway to the lantern.

The titantron follows the pointed finger and Jey feels his blood run cold.

Fog or smoke covers the floor backstage, and there are bodies. Piled. Blood sprayed on the walls as the camera moves to each imposing figure.

Dread drips down his spine.

He’s still in the middle of the crowd but no one is paying attention to him.

Jey’s eyes strain as he watches the scene unfold, looking for wiry red hair. He doesn’t seem to see Sami, but when the camera comes to Chad’s lifeless face he feels sick.

His feet carry him up the stairs away from the crowd, but his mind is racing. Sami always watches his matches backstage. There’s no reason why he wouldn’t have been in gorilla position tonight.

The fog was thick, any of those bodies could have been Sami. Still, skin cold, blood on his lips in place of the smile he always gives Jey after a match, win or lose.

He gets into the concourse and falls against the nearest wall. This feeling of panic is all too familiar, and Jey knows he probably shouldn’t be falling apart like this out in the open where anyone can see, but it doesn’t matter, none of this matters anymore if Sami is gone.

Tears burn at his eyes and he presses his knuckles against his eyes until it hurts, until it washes away the horrors he’s imagining.

There’s light pressure of a hand at his shoulder and he jumps, looking up to see the kind semi-familiar face of a WWE Staff member.

“Come with me, please-“ She says, her voice firm but calm.

“Sami-“ He chokes out. “Where’s Sami? Is he-“ Jey feels his stomach lurch.

“Relax-come with me, Sir. The locker rooms are secured, you can check on your friend from there.” Her grip on his arm is strong as she leads him through to the utility hallway he came through for his entrance.

Around them people are leaving the arena, chattering nervously. Jey can only think of the next breath, the next step, otherwise he’ll fall apart again.

He’s always been nervous, even as a child running to his mother or Jimmy for comfort and reassurance. His time living under Roman’s thumb hadn’t helped the issue at all, his mind constantly worrying over the worst case scenario to try to prepare himself, to do whatever necessary to keep Roman’s hands from his brothers neck.

Only in the last year with Sami’s help has he been able to put a name to those feelings and work through them.

And now-

Now-

Jey fights back a sob, biting into his hand. How can he go on?

The staff member swipes her badge letting them back into the locker room, where the roster is in a panicked disarray. Groups of wrestlers huddled together and talking rapidly, staring at their phones.

He should probably get his phone out of his bag, but he doesn’t have anyone to call. His family wants nothing to do with him, Sami is all he has.

He drops onto a bench and curls in on himself. No one is paying attention to him anyway.

He tries to breathe slowly, thinking of Sami’s voice in his head, counting softly.

“Jey- Jey baby, I’m here.”

His imagination is getting a little too good- Sami’s voice fills his ears, and he can almost feel the warmth of Sami’s hands on his shoulders.

“Please look at me, baby- I’m right here with you.”

It sounds just like when he has nightmares, Sami talking him down when he wakes up hyperventilating and crying. It should be comforting, but the tears come even harder.

A firm hand grasps his chin, and Jey’s ready to fight off whoever is touching him when he registers the rough bitten nails, the freckles he’s memorized and kissed in soft morning light. The sweet vanilla scent of him, it’s really-

“Sami?” Jey blinks a few times, taking in the sight of Sami real and alive in front of him.

“Mashallah I was so worried- I went back to the hotel! To surprise you with,” He looks around nervously. “Well, to surprise you and celebrate your win tonight. And then I checked twitter, and I saw- I was so scared Jey, I thought I’d lost you.” Sami’s hands cup his cheeks, and he presses a soft kiss to Jey’s forehead.

Jey simply stares at him, unable to find words. He’s kind of afraid that if he blinks Sami will be gone again.

His fingers find Sami’s shirt, grasping tight before pulling him close, burying his face into Sami’s torso.

“Man, I-“ He gulps in air. “Don’ know, thought you was back there waitin’- there was bodies everywhere n’ I couldn’t see who was who.” His shoulders shake as sobs wrack through his body.

Sami’s arms wrap around him, folding him into his warmth. The fear and tension bleed out of him bit by bit as the world moves on around them.

After a few minutes, Jey feels like he can breathe again and he resurfaces from Sami’s embrace to look into those sweet brown eyes.

“Better?” Sami asks.

He nods, “Thanks, I got real lost in my head there. I jus’- I can’t lose you, Sami.”

Sami’s thumb comes to wipe at the tear tracks on his face. “M’sorry Jey- I should have told you I was leaving.”

“Nah, you didn’t know this crazy shit would happen. You hear who else-?” Jey couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

“Only one confirmed so far is Chad,” Sami’s eyes are far off, despite their feud since Mania, he and Gable had been friends.

He stands, taking one of Sami’s hands in his own and squeezing tightly. “We oughta get out of here.”

Sami nods, and hand in hand they grab Jey’s bags. He has a few texts from concerned friends and coworkers, but his focus now is getting him and Sami out of the building and far far away from here.

---

Thank you for reading!!!!

[thefreakandthehair]

A Steddie fanfiction. Rated E. 84k.

----

April 1986

“How’re you feeling, Ed?” Steve asks quietly, preserving the stillness of the night that surrounds them. 

“Think I’m alright, a little tired.” Eddie watches the gentle waves that ripple out from his shins kicking softly in the water. It’s been a long day, even he has to admit that, and he’s feeling… well, that’s the end of the sentence. He’s feeling. 

It’s the first time Eddie’s been around everyone all at once since the Upside Down and the kids, they mean well and he knows that, surrounded him with so much love that it’d become overwhelming. So had sitting upright, walking around, talking. The last hour or so, he’d gone ghost— transparent without actually disappearing— and the others followed his lead. Pretend you’ve vanished hard enough and the people around will you pretend, too. Except for Steve, he discovers.

It’s an odd thing though, preferring to be still, to be quiet, and he hates that the Upside Down has stolen this piece of himself, too. Steve’s assured him that it’s okay, that he’ll be his boisterous, loud, antsy self again when his body’s healed but it’s taking too long for Eddie’s liking. Or comfort. 

“You know it's normal, right? It’s a lot, Ed. You didn’t even have to stay out here the whole time, no one would’ve minded or blamed you.” Steve sits next to him, letting his feet slide in beside Eddie’s. Everyone else is inside— kids, parents, everyone who’s made the Harrington House their base while waiting for the government pay-outs and new homes. It’s late now, but Steve and Eddie take advantage of the silence as they so often do. 

“Yeah, yeah I know. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” 

Steve nods and lets his pinky touch the edge of Eddie’s, palm down on the cold, wet concrete. 

“You don’t, you’re right. I didn’t either. For what it’s worth though,” Steve takes a breath, thinks about how he wants to word this without making a confession he’s not yet ready for, “I like every version of you.” 

Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest and he watches the ripples from Steve’s legs blend into his. Huh, he thinks, something symbolic there. 

He doesn’t respond, just wraps his pinky around Steve’s. 

Coming soon to ao3: February 1, 6:00PM PST (3:00 PM EST)

Now Posted!

tagging people who've asked or have listened to me ramble on and on for months: @bayouteche @starrystevie @tuvens @rougenancy @ruthofrhythm @toburnup @sparklyslug @justspicysixthings @fruityfour @fruityfourgalore @fastcardotmp3 @flashyysins @stevethehairington @kkpwnall @buckleydiaz @strawberryspence @undreamingscatworld @seidenbros @legitcookie @aringofsalt @patheticgirlsteve @henrystars @sharpbutsoft @nailbatandrobin @harringtonisms @stardustonpages @corrodedcoughin @steddiebf @songbvrd @hexiewrites @courtjestermunson @wroteclassicaly @cheatghost @flowercrowngods @lesstat-de-lioncourt @withacapitalp @newton-pulsifer @quevadilla @strangersatellites @stevesbipanic @wynnyfryd @prettyboyandthemetalhead @gothbat99 @sidekick-hero @stevecarrington @aidaronan @stargyles @bmodiwrites @evergreennwilloww @steves-babysitter @pizzaqueen @ruvina-loz @lallagoupsidedown @phantypurple @counting-dollars-counting-stars @deehellcat @stardustonpages @unclewaynemunson @yournowheregirl @punkharringtxn @babyboyargyle

[stevesbipanic]

Boy For All Seasons

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Ao3

Eddie didn't get to see Steve much in the months that followed. School was a lot more boring the third time around but it did come with the perk of Dustin Henderson and his little friends. They all had grand stories of Steve's bravery without a lot of details. They were also great at DnD. The kids joining Hellfire did have the added benefit of Steve coming to pick them up, the boys would exchange small waves across the parking lot.

Eddie was excited about his next holiday plan. This time he was sure to make Steve flustered, plus he wouldn't be out of place wearing a costume. Tina Randall was having a Halloween party and everyone was invited, including certain freaks. Eddie had originally thought he'd have to go looking for Steve, come Halloween but at his last trip to Family Video Robin had informed him she'd be going, and wherever Buckley went Harrington followed.

When Eddie arrived at the party it was in full swing, he couldn't see Robin or Steve yet so decided to use the opportunity to make some money. He had neared the end of his rounds when he spotted Robin alone. Well, not alone there was a girl who Eddie remembers from band talking to her, but Robin's side was unusually absent of one pretty boy.

Maybe, Steve had gone to get them drinks, but the kitchen was void of him too. He had practically given up, deciding to leave the house for a smoke outside when he saw him.

Steve was huddled at the back of the yard up against a tree. Worried, Eddie approached him. Steve appeared physically fine, but his face seemed withdrawn and dejected. Eddie plopped down next to him.

"Didn't take you as a princess, Stevie."

Steve looked towards Eddie and sent him a small smile, "Robs wanted to be Westly and needed a Buttercup."

"Well, you look beautiful as ever, sweetheart."

"Suprised you didn't go as one of those singers you like."

"Well I think vampires are equally metal, don't you like my fangs, Stevie?" Eddie flashed Steve a toothy smile.

"Bet you'd love a taste."

"In my wildest dreams, princess."

Steve seemed less sad than before but the fact he was still here alone nagged at Eddie.

"Why are you out here by yourself anyway, like I saw Buck talking to that girl, but there's plenty of people in there that would love some company with the ol King Steve."

Steve scrunched his face at the old nickname.

"Don't care for Halloween much anymore." Eddie wasn't dumb he remembered the rumors that followed the jock last year and they weren't kind.

"Well that simply won't do, as a self-proclaimed creature of the night I must reignite your love for the holiday."

Eddie jumped up and held his hand out to Steve. Steve smiled and grabbed his hand, letting Eddie pull him up.

"This party blows anyway, let me show you a better place, don't worry I'll bring you back to look after Robin later."

They hopped in Eddie's van and he drove them to the top of the quarry. He lead Steve to the edge where they could see the water before laying down, Steve laid beside him.

"This is where you can really appreciate the night, and look we've even got a full moon."

Steve followed Eddie's gaze up to the stars above them, amazed at how many you could see now they were on the outskirts of town.

"It's beautiful."

Eddie flicked his gaze towards Steve, "yeah, yeah it is."

The boys watched the stars pointing out constellations before Steve decided Robin would probably need driving home soon.

"Thanks for tonight, Eddie, maybe Halloween isn't so bad."

"You're welcome, princess."

"Maybe next time I'll let you bite me," Steve grinned and sent Eddie a wink before quickly hopping out.

Eddie could feel a soft warmth spread across his cheeks as he drove home, yeah Halloween was pretty great.

Tags: @zerokrox-blog @smallfrogpleasedtomeetyou @eboyawstenn @sharingisntkaren @goodolefashionedloverboi @the-redthread @steddie-there @questionablequeeries @liorereshkigal @mightbeasleep @carlyv @my2amgaythoughts @gregre369 @space-invading-pigeon @bisexualdisastersworld @epiclazershark @sherrylyn628 @raisedbylibrarians

[palmtreepalmtree]

I was tagged forever ago by the lovely @statueinthestone. Thank you for thinking of me, my friend.

This is 15 Questions for 15 Mutuals - I aim to not follow these instructions.

1. Are you named after anyone?

Yes, my grandfather Shlomo. My name, like his name, means peace.

2. When was the last time you cried?

This morning, reading the news.

3. Do you have kids?

No, thank you.

4. What sports do you play/have played?

I played softball as a kid - had a good arm so played catcher mostly once stealing became a thing which I did not enjoy. Also played JV tennis in high school. I did enjoy that and wish I had kept it up.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Is there a single person who has answered this question without sarcasm?

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Truly, no idea. I am one of the least observant people around.

7. What's your eye color?

Hazel.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

I reject this binary, but accepting this binary, happy endings.

9. Any talents?

Not really. My hobbies come in waves.

10. Where were you born?

La la land.

11. What are your hobbies?

These days it's mostly cross-stitch, crossword puzzles, and stardew valley.

12. Do you have any pets?

Not at this time.

13. How tall are you?

I'm not. I'm in 2-D.

14. Favorite subject in school?

The classes that were most meaningful to the development of my worldview were: Women in Film, Sex and Gender, Constitutional Law, Immigration Law, International Law, and National Security Law & Policy.

15. Dream job?

To the extent I must work, I'm pretty much doing it, but I suppose otherwise I'd love to have my own foundation and give billions of dollars away.

I'm not following these instructions and tagging anyone else, but I'd love to read anyone else's response if you like to do it.

[gimmethosedaddymilkers]

Fighting Strength

Okok, this was a request from an anon reader, who wanted a female reader with arthur who’s taller and stronger, you better believe this is gonna be a lil NSFW Y’all 

It’s gonna be goodddd

Or at least, I hope it’s good, let me know what you think! 

I apologize things are taking so long y’all I promise I’m still real! 

Warnings: NSFW, manhandling, female reader i think thats pretty much it so minors DNI 

Tags: @photo1030 @kieropal @mrsarthurmorgan7 @6kaja9 @pcotarelo @cantchoosejust1​ 

Lets go people

Arthur sincerely hoped that you wouldn’t notice him staring at you.

You were something, that was for sure.

You were, for a lack of better words, huge.

Taller than him by a few inches, which made you at least 6′ 4″ and you seemed to be stronger than him too.

Granted that didn’t mean that he wasn’t strong, he knew that, but you? 

It almost seemed like you were throwing your weight around on purpose, just to prove you were stronger.

Every time he looked you seemed to be carrying two hay bales, or three bags of feed.

Somehow you managed to be so large and strong, yet elegant and beautiful all at the same time and something about it made his pants a little tighter than they had been previously.

He found himself staring at you more often than not, and he hated it. 

He felt awful, he didn’t want you to feel as though you were some kind of freak, or that you were out of place, or hell that he didn’t like you, it was the exact opposite of that.

He just had no way of approaching you. 

I mean, what would he do? 

His confidence was real, yes, but you? You were enough to put fear in his eyes.

Little did he know that you felt the same kind of...lust for him as he felt for you.

He was a strong man, and even though you were stronger than him, that turned you on. Not only that but he was a handsome man, a handsome man with a good head on his shoulders. It wasn’t just his looks that drove you to him.

The showing off around camp was part of your plan to attempt to get him to talk to you.

It didn’t seem to be working though, and at this point you were starting to believe that he just didn’t have any interest in you.

You placed down the last bale of hay that you’d been carrying and sigh before heading towards the fire, waving simple hellos to people who nodded towards you.

The fire was warm and welcoming, and after doing all your chores the warmth was comforting, a warm bath would have been nicer, but it was better than having nothing.

You sigh and quietly place your hand on your cheek, watching the fire crackle, listening to the others around you.

“Hey, uh...Miss L/N?” 

You turn your head to look up at Arthur, feeling as though he could read your mind sometimes. He often had a habit of showing up around you after you’d spent time thinking about him.

You offer him a smile closing your eyes as you look up at him.

“Hi Arthur, whaddya need?” 

“Oh...I...I guess I don’t really need nothin’, I jus’....I was wonderin’ if maybe you’d take a walk with me?” 

“Of course, you sound serious, did I do something?” 

“No, no, nothin’ like that, I jus’ wanna talk to ya, thats all.” 

You smile and nod before standing, and watch as Arthur’s eyes follow your face.

You were taller than him, of course only by a few inches, but sometimes it was still so funny to you when you stood right next to him.

He was such a large man, and an intimidating one too, seeing him look at you with almost these kind of puppy dog eyes was always just so....funny to you.

He gestures towards the entrance of camp, and begins to walk that way, you matched his stride evenly and kept by his side.

As the two of you got a little further away from camp you listen as Arthur takes a deep sigh, and you look at him, furrowing your brow.

“Are you alright?” 

“Course I am, I’m always alright, I just...I’m thinkin’ I wanna ask ya somethin’, but I jus’...I really don’t know how to go about it.” 

“Well, I...what is it Arthur? You know I’m not gonna judge you.” You chuckle quietly and place your hand on his shoulder. 

“I know, I know, but...well this it’s...this is different.” 

You swallow, a sudden feeling beginning to bubble up in your stomach, warm and fuzzy almost.

Was he finally going to say something?

You give a little gasp and then grab both his shoulders, twisting him to face you.

Without thinking you pull him to you and crash your lips to his, catching him off guard, but after only a moment his lips match yours, and his hands slowly find themselves on your waist. 

You break from him and realize what you’ve done, a heat covering your face.

“I....I’m sorry Arthur, I didn’t- I wasn’t thinking-” 

“No, no I-” 

“I shouldn’t have done that-”

“I liked it-” 

“You didn’t even get to say what you wanted to say-” 

“I was gonna tell ya I’m sweet on ya!” Arthur spits out. You blink, looking at him, unsure as to if he was kidding around with you or not. 

“Arthur...I you....” You swallow trying to figure out how to say what you wanted to without sounding slightly creepy. 

“I wanted to do that,” He swallows and looks up at you, a small bit of red haze coming over his face. “I just didn’t know how to go about it. I ain’t ever been...I’ve never been so attracted to someone...so much....you’re so much stronger than I am, taller than me...it’s...it’s kinda strange, I....somethin' about you bein' so strong yourself, you don't need me, you don't need to have me around to do things for you....somethin' about that is just....amazin'."

He stops a moment and breathes.

"I've been thinkin' and thinkin', tryin' to ignore all this, but its just gotten to a point I just....I had to say somethin', and...that was one hell of a kiss."

“Just because I’m taller and...stronger doesn’t mean I think any less of you, in fact, your strength is one of the things that makes me attracted to you.” You mumble. “It’s like torture watching you carry in deer from hunting.”

“Are you kiddin’ me, what the hell do you think it is for me, you walkin’ around camp, throwin’ hay bales like it ain’t nothin’!” He swings a lazy arm back towards camp. “I usually like to be in charge, but damnit, watchin’ you do that...” He seems embarrassed for a moment and looks to his feet. 

“It makes me wish you’d throw me around like that.” 

The words come out in nearly a whisper. 

You blink again, confused, and then feel a heat flood through your body.

“Arthur...I...you...are you saying that you want....you want me to be...you...” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you stare at each other for a moment before the two of you grab each other’s faces, crashing your lips against one another’s for a second time.

Arthur’s hands trail over you, your sides, starting at your hips, making their way upwards, a touch so desperate that you begin to wonder just how long he’s felt this way. 

He pulls away from you, only a few moments later, looking up at you while his breathing tries to steady itself.

“Y/N...I...you wanna take this to a hotel?” 

You think about it for a a moment, only a moment, but your response comes out quicker than you realize.

The ride to the hotel was nearly torture for the two of you, stealing glances at one another as you rode next to each other.

“Yes.”

You could practically see the bulge in Arthur’s pants there, the thought of you doing what you wanted to do to him.

Getting into the hotel Arthur nearly tossed the money at the owner and headed up the stairs with you following as quickly as he could manage.

As soon as that door closed, you let your desires take over, and it appeared he did to.

Arthur was not a submissive man.

Not at all.

In fact he was the opposite, but with you?

It appeared at least this once, maybe a few more times in the future, he wanted you to be in charge.

Your hands were on him without much thought, it was almost instinctual, like breathing.

You kiss him deeply, and of course he returns it, for a second the two of you fight against one another, who would lead, who would follow. 

Arthur stops fighting for leadership, for dominance when you place your hand against his throat, which forces a near whimper out of his body, that’s muffled by your lips.

He tries to get your shirt off, and being kind, you allow him to take it off, but as soon as he’s managed to get it removed you shove him onto the foot of the bed, watching as he looks up at you from where he’s now sitting. 

His chest is red, you can see the color peeking out from the few unbuttoned parts of his collar. His face too, along with his ears. 

He’s panting, waiting for you to do something.

You step closer, and sneak your foot against his, kicking his legs apart.

He simply swallows and watches, letting you do as you please.

You lean over him, and kiss his neck, moving your hand towards the growing tent that’s made itself present.

Gently palming him causes him to grunt in your ear, a sound that sends even more heat to the center of you.

It’s low, and nearly primal.

You kiss his jaw, right next to his ear, listening as he mumbles something under his breath, feeling and watching as he starts to squirm under your touch, his hips slightly bucking into your hand and his heart beating faster than it should be.

“Darlin’...please...” His voice is a whine now, hoping that maybe it will push you give him the help he needs. He leans his head back a little as you kiss further. 

“Aw...Arthur, are you getting impatient?” 

“Stop teasin’ me...please Darlin’ I jus’...please, I wanna....Darlin’-” 

“Alright....I’ll help you Arthur, but first-” 

You grab his hand, and lead it towards your own jeans, and manage to stick it under your waistband, smiling to yourself as Arthur does take the lead, at least for this. 

His finger dips into you, and you let a sigh escape, he seems to know what to do, despite you not saying a word.

It’s as if he can read your body better than you.

It’s only a moment or two of this that you can handle before you yourself feel impatient.

You unbuckle his belt, and just as quickly unzip and unbutton his jeans, pulling his pants down just far enough to let his dick out.

“Scoot Arthur, further up the bed.” 

He does what he’s told, quickly, easily, without hesitation. 

You pull your pants off as quickly as you can, watching as Arthur tries to discreetly lick his fingers clean.

You move over him, straddling his hips, and settling yourself down on his cock, watching as his face contorts, and he tilts his head back against the mattress.

“Jesus Sweetheart....” 

You chuckle slightly, and wait for a moment, allowing yourself to stretch.

He was bigger than you expected, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

“How long has it been Arthur?” 

“Jesus...I don’t know...” He mumbles, keeping his eyes closed. “Jus’...look right now all I know is I want you to do whatever you wanna do to me...I don’t care how loud I am, how loud you are, I don’t care how rough you are, jus’...fuck....” 

He swallows and his hands find your thighs, keeping purchase there.

“I want...fuck darlin’ jus’...I told you, throw me around, take charge, jus’ this once.” 

You raise your eyebrows as you look at him.

Such a large man, a dominating man in his everyday life, yet here he was, nearly begging you.

You let a smile come over your face and gently rock your hips, Arthur’s hands sticking to your thighs like glue.

Up, back, down, forwards, guiding you the way he needs, and surprisingly the way you need.

His head leans against the bed behind him and he lets another long low groan flee from his lips.

It's one of relief, finally feeling you around him, like he's wanted to for so long.

You gently bring your hand to his throat again, and give a squeeze, which brings a grunt forth.

He looks at you almost defiantly, yet you can see that he's enjoying it, that look is only covering for the one underneath it.

His hips buck up hard into you as he stares into your eyes, and a smirk comes over his face as he watches yours contort.

“I’m supposed to be in charge here.” You murmur. “Not you.” 

“Then do somethin’ about it Princess.” 

“Do it again and I’ll have to restrain you...” 

He clenches his jaw, and again, thrusts upwards, keeping eye contact the whole time.

You grab his hands, prying them off your thighs, and bringing them above his head, you grab his wrists with one hand, and stare him in the face.

“Now you don’t get to touch.”

He simply flares his nostrils at you, and you again start to rock your hips against him, and after a moment you realize that he knows he’s made a mistake.

You can feel his arms tense, and he scrunches his nose up as you continue.

“I’m sorry-” He gets the words out before a small groan escapes him. “I wanna touch-” 

“You should have thought about that before you did that.” 

“Princess-” 

You cut him off with a kiss, and then lean against his chest, before you begin to move your hips faster, listening as he nearly whimpers against your lips. 

His hips move against yours, involuntarily this time, instinctually, in an effort to get what he needed. 

He fights against your hands, yet he can’t break from your grip, and as much as he’s fighting against it you know he likes it. 

The sound of his grunts against your lips is enough to tell. 

After a moment, you stop, an idea coming to your mind. 

You pull away from Arthur and offer a smirk to him. 

“I’ll let you touch me Arthur, but because I need you to tap me twice, if you need to breathe.” 

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” 

You let go of his hands and they go straight to your thighs again, and follow as you lift yourself from his cock, and move yourself, placing your opening over his face, and then gently settle yourself down.

He squeezes your thighs tightly, and you feel his tongue flick inside of you, and let out a small moan.

Gently you move against his face as he continues to move his tongue in ways that made your skin tingle, made your body warm up, and made you release noises louder than you were planning on letting out.

He hums, and it feels delightful, fantastic, you have no idea who taught him this, but he knew what he was doing, and for that you’re grateful.

You reach between your legs and tangle your hand in his hair, feeling the groan he lets free, and you ride his face just a little faster.

He squeezes your thighs harder and helps guide you as you move, helps push you as you go.

After a moment one of his hands leaves your thigh, and you look behind you where it disappears to only to see him trying to get a little bit of pleasure himself, taking his cock in his hand, giving it a few languid strokes. 

For a moment you think about stopping him, but the thought is driven out of your head as he hits a spot so perfect you might as well have forgotten your own name.

You pull his hair a little harder, and squeeze your thighs as you try to keep a constant movement, you’re sure he’s drowning, but he hasn’t tapped twice, or once for that matter.

You can tell that you’re almost to your breaking point when he does tap your thigh twice, and you move to let him breathe.

You smack his hand away from his cock and settle your settle yourself back down on it, looking Arthur in the face, he’s covered in your slick and you watch as he licks his lips clean, and takes a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself. 

“I saw that.” You look him in the eyes. “I didn’t say you could touch yourself did I?” 

“Didn’t stop me did you?” 

“I was a little preoccupied-”

“That seems like it’s your problem then ain’t it Sugar?” 

You snort and then move your hips again, tired of talking, you had been so close to finishing, before.

He brings his hands to your chest, rather than your thighs like before, slipping his hands beneath your shirt, a smile covering his lips as he feels your breasts, and thrusts to match your rhythm.

It doesn’t take much longer before Arthur’s hips begin to get erratic, and you know that he’s close to finishing himself.

“Darlin’...” He leans his head against the bed again, and his hands trail downwards, resting against your stomach.

“I know Arthur, I am too.” 

He grunts in response, and he grips your waist tightly as the two of you chase your climaxes.

Only moments later you feel yourself come loose, and clench around him, letting out a noise that spurs Arthur further, and brings a groan out of his body. 

“Darlin, you....need...move...” 

You get what he’s saying even in the state you’re in, your heart beating loudly in your ears and your breathing trying to catch up.

You move off of him, and just in time as he finishes against your thigh with another loud groan.

“Jesus Christ...” 

You watch as his chest rises and falls quickly, trying to catch his breath, he reaches out for you, and manages to find your hand, pulling you gently towards him.

“Lay with me Darlin’, please?” 

“Of course, you silly man.” 

You climb next to him and lay your head on his chest, listening to his heart as it tries to slow down.

“That was...I ain’t never had someone do that with me...” He mumbles. “I mean....the face thing.” 

“I’ve never done it either, I just...thought about it.” 

Arthur chuckles.

“Well, I liked that, next time though, I’ll be in charge...” 

[jhugas]

PROVE IT.III-Jeon Jungkook-‘Fuck you’

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Series: Prove it

Genre: some angst, jealousy

Summary: Jungkook does something unexpected, but it doesn’t go the way he wanted to… by the way, who is this guy?

Word count: 1,3k

Warnings/tags: argument, misunderstanding.

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

After these two busy nights with him, it was already time to go back home, and you were the first one to leave.

‘Bye…’ you told him before leaving the hotel, and all you got was a small glance from him, he didn’t even talk to you after this night, and was still shirtless. 

He's been acting odd since this morning, luckily though, he still made breakfast for both of you before you woke up.

After this awkward moment, you close the door behind you and head to the car.

Now that you were in the car with your driver, you took the opportunity to do what you feared the most, checking your socials. You go on Insta and the first thing you see is the 11k more followers you won, then, under your last post, the comments:

@yuflying:   GIRLLLLLLL

@y/nsfav:    Close the window at least😭

@koofuckk: Us: they’re gonna kill each other 

                       Them: Lez do it😫

@y/nkook:   GET IT!! Y/nkook shippers 🔛🔝

It really wasn’t as bad as you thought, you believed that they’d have insulted you, or that Jungkook’s fan had hated on you, but it’s like everyone was involved in the story, and in a good way.

So you decide then to go on Twitter, and you see unsurprisingly that ‘FREAKY’ was trending along with your names, and when you clicked on it, pictures and videos of you two having sex showed up with other tweets:

…you didn’t know how to feel about this, indeed, you won lots of followers ‘thanks’ to him, but you just couldn’t not feel bad about this.

Once you arrived at the airport, you saw hundreds of fans waiting for you, all excited and screaming loudly. So you get out of the car, the bodyguards join you and you pass by. On the way, you hear comments about you and Jungkook, especially by the paparazzis, but you just waved and smiled at your fans, then head to your private jet, and once you laid down, you immediately closed your eyes to sleep.

3 hours passed by and the plane finally landed right after you woke up, you were sure your manager called you at least once during the flight, but you’ll only check your phone once you arrive home.

‘Home sweet home…’ you say as you enter and unlock your phone, but instead of seeing missed calls from your manager, two unknown people sent you texts.

The first one sent:

He answered by saying that he had a list with the names and phone numbers of the candidates, so you simply renamed him ‘Suhyeok’, you’d remember who he is by reading the messages anyway.

Then the second person sent:

He answered almost instantly after you sent ‘Hi?’, but somehow, though you also answered quickly ‘Who are you?’, he didn’t answer.

Though it kinda scared you, you carried on with your night, cooked dinner, and went to sleep. Still without an answer to your message.

A WEEK LATER

It’s Monday, and time to go back to work, and this afternoon from 2 pm to 6 pm you will train on the field for the next mixed competition, which occurs in three months.

You thought the other athletes would talk behind your back, point at you or even laugh, but no, most of them just ignored you. And knowing that you are the most famous female athlete, this situation was abnormal, but oh well… with time, everything will go back to normal, you think.

Only one person came to talk to you this afternoon, and it was Suhyeok. He was actually nice and the only one that approached you the whole day, so you felt good about him. Moreover, you discovered that you two had a lot in common, and you wished you could’ve talk more, but it was the end of the day already.

To be honest, you were kinda mad that Jungkook didn’t talk to you a single time, not even a hello, nor just a nod… but he was bullshit anyways, ‘what was I thinking…’ you tell yourself.

He was acting nice when it came to sex, but when sex wasn’t here, you were just a slut to him, right? You sigh in arrogance and head to the lockers, when suddenly someone pulls you apart, and you recognize this face, it’s Jungkook.

‘Who was this?’

He asks.

‘Who was who?’

‘This man, he was talking to you just now.’

‘Oh, well he is new here, and he actually had the balls to talk to me, unlike someone else here.’

You answered, clearly indicating that he was this ‘someone else’.

‘Well, if you answered me maybe?’

He said sarcastically.

‘Answered you? When did you even talk to me. You didn’t even say bye when I left.’

‘Are you joking? I literally texted you a week ago, but you never fucking answered. "Who are you?" then when I tell you it’s me, Jungkook, you completely ignore me. I even asked you if you were okay, but apparently it’s none of my business.’

He said before poking his cheek with his tongue.

‘So it was you?! And sorry but you never answered! I was waiting for your response, but nothing. Had to wait a whole week, just to see you again, hoping that maybe our relationship had changed, but you’re still as annoying as before, I see.’

‘Fuck you.’

He finally said.

‘And fuck you too!’

You snap back at him before going to the lockers, enraged.

So he really didn’t change? You tried to think of the best, but it seems that life pulled you back to earth, he really still hated you, and as much as you hate him now.

Jungkook stood there in silence, ‘what did I do again? Is it my fault?’ he thinks. He can’t believe you've already started talking to someone new when you just started to talk to each other. But he doesn’t want to overthink again, he sighs, then goes to his locker quietly.

He really wanted to be alone, but the first person he saw in the men’s locker, was Suhyeok, this complete stranger to Jungkook that you were talking to.

‘You alright?’

Suhyeok asks.

‘Yes… why? You know her?’

‘Know who?’

‘Y/n.’

‘Oh, yes I’ve talked to her a bit, she’s great honestly, what about you, do you know her?’

Suhyeok returns the question.

‘Of course I do.’

Jungkook answers before rolling his eyes.

Suhyeok frowns at this answer, if Jungkook seemed so confident about knowing her… then why would he wait in front of her lockers to argue?

You finally arrived home after taking a few pics with your fans, and you immediately receive a message:

What? Did he really send the message and you ignored him? You can’t believe it, now you felt bad, he really thought you ignored him… 

You start writing an apology, but he’s faster, he already sent another text:

So it was just a misunderstanding? How sad, you think, his phone just didn’t send the text when Jungkook wanted to, he must have some serious problems with his connection…

He seemed genuinely sorry, for once, you wanted to accept immediately his apology but you didn’t want to seem too nice, you tried to keep your cool, yk?

Well anyway, now you’ll be able to communicate with him. And that’s what you did. But surprisingly, Jungkook isn’t the only one to text you. 2:09 am, you receive ‘Is everything okay?’.

__________________

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are really appreciated and helpful <3 thank you!

Masterlist

[cicerosfavouritelistener]

Got WIP'd Wednesday'd on Out Of Touch Thursday

Tagging: @pyrotechniccake @manekinoodle and anyone else who wants to

Tagged by @plutoprophecy Cheers bud

Got like 6 Disco Elysium fics on the burner and this is the one that opened on. It does not have a proper name yet.

Harry groans as he walks into the Whirling-In-Rags, arms shaking from the cold as he stumbles into another man.

I have a key.

Shit, sorry didn't see you there.

YOU -- "I have a key." You tell him as you fumble in your pockets, pulling out the key and showing it to him. "Do you know where this is?"

The man looks at you with mild annoyance, though as his eyes catch something shining on your shoulder and the mild annoyance becomes abject horror.

EMPATHY: 'No,' he thinks. 'This can't be the man from the 41st'.

"10-4 officer, I uh, believe it best that you speak with Satellite-Officer Kitsuragi about this. Over."

ESPRIT DE CORPS: 20 minutes away from you a button is pressed by Officer Jules 'Oldboy' Pidieu. This button causes electrons to zoom through the wires in the floors and walls of the RCM to the desk of one Satellite-Officer Kim Kitsuragi, causing a small but bright red light to flash on his desk.

A wave of relief washes through him, followed by one of anger as he stands up. It doesn't take him long at all to get out of the bullpen, down the hallway and into the communications office where Oldboy was sitting. Oldboy nods and hands him the Radio.

KIM KITSURAGI: "Officer,"

EMPATHY: Shame washes through you as the word reaches you past with the power of radio waves. This word, when said to you by him, in this tone, makes you want to shrivel up into a ball and melt into obscene nothingness.

-1 MORAL

KIM KITSURAGI: "Why haven't you contacted us in days?"

AUTHORITY [Challenging:Failure]: Don't let him speak to you like that! You answer to no one, make sure he knows this.

EMPATHY: No. This man is deeply worried about you. Do not frustrate him more by insulting him.

DRAMA: Sire, perhaps you should change the story here. Calm him down by telling him how busy you've been while working on the case.

"Hey, fuck you, buddy! If I don't want to make contact, I don't have too!"

"" (Lie)

"I'm sorry, I don't know where I am or what's going on"

Say nothing.

JEAN VIQUEMARE -- The man puts his lighter away, pointing a yellow-nailed finger at the first row. "This first one here has eighteen perforations. That means you've got eighteen years of RCM service."

YOU -- "Wait, eighteen years I've done this?"

JEAN VIQUEMARE -- It's difficult for him to tell if the surprise in your voice is genuine or feigned, he doesn't like the idea of his partner not knowing what the hell's going on. He nods slowly as he takes a drag of his smoke.

"Yeah," he says. "You're a veteran now."

YOU -- "I don't feel like a veteran."

VOLITION -- That's simply because you've forgotten. Relax, it'll come back to you and you'll feel better than before.

EMPATHY -- The lieutenant doesn't respond to your statement. How would he know how to react to that? He's just a man on a job. He wasn't here to babysit an amnesiac and remind him of who he once was.

VISUAL CALCULUS [Challenging: Successful] - You count 216 perforations. Considering that nice, large number, a wave of pride washes over you, though you can't say why, precisely.

JEAN VICQUEMARE -- "Do you know what this second set of perforations means?"

YOU -- "No, but there's two-hundred sixteen dots."

JEAN VICQUEMARE -- "Two-hundred sixteen," Jean repeats, feeling a wave of disbelief. "Yeah, that means you've closed over two-hundred and seventeen cases in your time with the RCM."

YOU -- "Yeah, I don't think I can ever re-become this person… What's the last number?"

JEAN VICQUEMARE -- "This right here is the last set. Three perforations, meaning you've taken the life of three people in your entire 18 years of service."

YOU -- "So I'm a killer…"

JEAN VICQUEMARE- "Hey, don't think about it like that," he says, trying to keep you from getting upset. "Three kills in eighteen years? That's nothing. I know some officers with higher body counts after their first year of service alone."

YOU -- "Have you ever killed anyone, Jean?"

JEAN VICQUEMARE -- The man sighs as he drops his cigarette, crushing it under his heel as he pulls out another and lights it. "Yes. Plenty of them."

ESPRIT DE CORPS -- He's not proud of this, but he was doing his job. There was nothing to be done.

As you walk down the stakrs you see two men standing in the foyer.

He raises an eyebrow at you and you're locked in place. "And… what colour would you have associated me with, Detective?"

"Green."

"Orange."

"Wait, actually, nevermind. This is actually stupid."

"Thank you kindly." 2. EMPATHY: Try to figure out what he's thinking about.

EMPATHY (Challenging: Failure) -- You cannot. The lights from the disco ball shine over his glasses and the darkness blankets his face. You cannot tell what is going on in this man's head.

Maybe in another life.

1. "Thank you kindly."

[berenwrites]

Dreams in the Night - Stranger Things - Steddie, Chapter 6 of 9

Dreams in the Night: But Vampires Aren't an Upside Down Thing!

Summary: Steve has been having nightmares, seeing through the eyes of a vampire like creature in Hawkins as it hunts. He puts the dreams down to past trauma and too many horror movies at Family video. He’s checked and no one’s been hurt, so even Robin agrees. However, his world is about to be turned upside down yet again as the nightmares become far too real.

Tumblr Master Chapter Listing | Also on AO3

For: @lady-lostmind (lady_lostmind on AO3)

Relationships: steddie, platonic stobin

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: ~18600

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: vampire!Eddie, Kas!Eddie, hurt/comfort, bisexual!Steve, bisexual!Eddie, platonic stobin, steddie

This fic is a part of the @steddieholidayexchange

Chapter 6: More Minds

Steve was finishing a large mug of coffee and Eddie was stuffing the last pop tart into his face when the doorbell rang. They’d both managed to use the bathroom, throw on full sets of clothes, inhale a whole packet of pop tarts and drink enough caffeine to float an ocean liner in the twenty minutes it had taken the others to arrive. All under Robin’s watchful eye.

Eddie tried to say something, but he currently looked like a chipmunk, so his communication was mostly in crumbs. Steve was pretty sure he shouldn’t be finding it as adorable as he was.

“You finish up,” he said, following Robin into the main living area as she headed for the door.

It was fully dark now, so he switched on a few lights to distract himself from what was about to happen.

“Robin,” he heard Hopper greet with his usual gruff tone. “So, what’s going on?”

“Is it the Upside Down?” El asked and Steve felt an instant stab of guilt at the worry in the girl’s voice.

“You said it wasn’t code red,” Dustin joined in.

“Come in and find out,” Robin invited.

She wasn’t as annoyed with him anymore, but clearly, she was a little bit. Steve braced for whatever came next.

“Harrington,” Hopper said, as the man spotted him.

“Hop,” he replied with a nod.

“What’s this about?” Hopper asked.

“I’m guessing it’s time for my dramatic entrance,” came from behind him before he could put together anything to say.

“Eddie!”

Dustin’s voice was high and very, very loud. Steve winced. Under other circumstances it might have been hilarious.

“Hi,” was as articulate as Eddie managed.

It was such a far cry from the predator that had climbed through his window the previous night, Steve had to sit on the urge to peck Eddie on the cheek. Not an impulse he had ever thought he’d be fighting with.

He stepped to the side to avoid being clocked one by Dustin as the kid launched himself at Eddie with barely a thought under his cap as far as Steve could tell.

“Hey, Henderson,” Eddie said, but returned the hug Dustin was giving him.

“How?” Dustin wanted to know as soon as they pulled apart.

“Bats, Vecna, Steve, in that order,” Eddie replied, which had everyone looking at Steve.

“What did you do?” Dustin demanded with all his usual tact.

“Let’s sit down,” he said, waving at the two couches and various chairs, “this might take a while.”

Hopper was clearly very tense, steering El and then Dustin to one of the couches, while Steve, Eddie and Robin took up the other one with Steve in the middle.

“Well?” Hopper prompted once everyone was settled.

Steve took a deep breath.

“I’ve been having bad dreams,” he confessed, since he figured plain fact would work best. “Seeing through someone’s eyes as they attacked people in Hawkins, but when I checked everyone was fine, not a mark on them, so I assumed they were nightmares.”

“He’s been telling me about them,” Robin added, “and I agreed.”

He gave her a small smile of thanks.

“So, what changed?” Hopper asked.

“I finally realised who’s eyes I was seeing through,” he replied, “and it felt so real I reached back. Eddie came to me last night when I called him.”

“You’ve been attacking people?” Hopper said, glaring at Eddie.

“He wasn’t thinking straight,” Steve defended immediately. “And he didn’t really hurt them, or I would’ve realised sooner.”

“Why?” El asked, giving Eddie a contemplative look.

Rather than explain, Eddie opened his mouth and let his fangs descend.

“Holy sh..crap,” Hopper said, half stepping in front of the other couch.

“But vampires aren’t an Upside Down thing,” Dustin countered with a frown.

“That’s what I thought,” Steve muttered quietly.

“I think it was a joke,” Eddie said, playing with his rings, “one Vecna picked out of my head. He called me Kas.”

Steve did not get it, but it was clear that Dustin did.

“Who’s Kas?” Robin asked.

“A character from DnD,” Dustin said. “He was a vampire, Vecna’s lieutenant who betrayed him, killing him with a magic sword.”

“So, you think he made you a vampire because he thought it was funny?” Hopper sounded incredulous.

“He probably thought it would scare us too,” Dustin added. “Eddie was our friend and Vecna turned him into a monster.”

“It sounds like something Henry might do,” El agreed.

“But then why didn’t he throw you at us in the final battle?” Steve asked, because none of them had seen anything of Eddie the last time they had gone in.

Eddie shrugged.

“Sorry,” he said, “none of that time makes much sense in my head. I don’t know where I was or what I was doing, just that Vecna was in control. About the only thing I do know is I didn’t have a magic sword and I didn’t have anything to do with killing him.”

“Steve’s right though,” Dustin said, much to Steve’s surprise, “it doesn’t make sense he didn’t use you against us. He used Jason.”

“Jason?” Eddie asked.

“He was disintegrated when the rifts opened through town after he almost got Max killed,” Dustin explained before anyone else could get there. “We thought he was dead, but he’d been transported to the Upside Down and merged with the local wildlife, becoming part of the hive mind. He was kind of half Demogorgon when we went in to get Vecna. Steve got him with a Molotov and his bat.”

Steve tried not to shy away from the long hard stare Eddie turned on him at that revelation. He couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but he thought Eddie might have been impressed.

“He deserved it,” Robin said.

“Of that I have no doubt,” Eddie said, finally looking away from him. “Makes it even weirder that I was nowhere to be seen.”

El stood up, stepping around her dad. The pair shared a look and Hopper’s shoulders sagged in resignation. With a small smile, she walked over to stand in front of Eddie. She held out her hands.

“May I?” she asked.

Eddie looked surprised for a moment before biting his lip nervously and nodding his head. Steve watched as Eddie reached out and took El’s hands in his own. El folded herself down onto the floor in front of Eddie before closing her eyes. Eddie closed his as well a moment later.

There wasn’t much to see except for El’s forehead crinkling in a frown as she concentrated.

When Eddie twitched, Steve had to hold himself back from reaching out. He knew he couldn’t interfere, but all his protective instincts were firing. When Eddie made a quiet little gasping sound it was even harder.

Just as a small trickle of blood began to run from El’s nose, her eyes snapped open.

“You did help defeat him,” she said, a smile blooming onto her face. “He did try to send you after us, but you wouldn’t go. You were supposed to lead the bats, but he had to rip you out of the hive mind when you refused. I think that’s why you don’t remember. It almost killed you again.”

Eddie was blinking at her as if trying to make his eyes focus. Now Steve let himself reach out, placing a hand on Eddie’s arm.

“I did?” Eddie asked, confusion colouring his words.

El nodded.

“Go me?!” Eddie said, clearly still dazed from his encounter with El’s abilities.

“I’m still not clear on how we got from attacks on people to this,” Hopper said, still giving Eddie a stern stare.

“Because of the bat bites, we’re connected,” Steve stepped in to give Eddie some more time to recover. “That’s why I was dreaming.”

“I think that is why Henry did not manage to kill Eddie the second time,” El said before he could go on. “The connection to Steve meant the shock of being torn from the hive mind did not kill him.”

“That would make sense,” Robin commented.

“How did you get out of the Upside Down?” Hopper asked.

Eddie shrugged.

“I really don’t remember,” he admitted. “The longer I’ve been here, the clearer things have become, but even some of that is hazy.”

“The stronger the connection became between you and Steve, the more of your brain you got back,” Robin said, as if it made perfect sense to her.

Steve could see how it might be true at least.

“So, you just invited him in and that was it?” Hopper asked, now looking at Steve.

Of course, they both knew that wasn’t true. Steve had put on a sweater with a high collar, but he knew it didn’t cover all the marks.

“I tricked Eddie into biting me,” he said simply, “and I got dragged into his mind. I helped him remember.”

When El held out her hands, Steve took them. They had all learned the hard way they needed to be sure. He closed his eyes and found himself standing in his bedroom the night before. The feeling of Eddie’s fangs going in that first time was just as sharp as it had been in reality, but it only lasted a second, before the memory of being in Eddie’s mind replaced it. He showed El exactly what he had done, and he was thrown out in exactly the same way.

He blinked back to reality, rather than his bedroom, however.

“That was very brave,” El said, never wavering from looking into his eyes.

“It was necessary,” was what Steve chose to say back.

“It was incredibly fu…flipping dangerous,” Eddie countered. “I could have killed you.”

“No, you couldn’t,” he replied, because after what El had said about the connection and the hive mind, Steve was very sure of that.

Eddie opened his mouth, but clearly didn’t know quite what to say.

“Well, I could have hurt you badly,” was what he went with.

“You didn’t hurt anyone else,” Steve pointed out, just like he had the night before.

“Okay, so what was the delay?” Hopper asked. “Why didn’t you call us last night after all this happened?”

Trying desperately not blush, Steve ducked his head.

“We crashed,” Eddie said, apparently much better at lying to Hopper than Steve was. “We didn’t wake up until Robin barged in and found us. Then we called you.”

Hopper was frowning again, but then that was pretty standard for anything to do with the Upside Down. It didn’t look like the older man quite knew how to proceed.

“How’s my uncle?” Eddie asked before Hopper could ask anything else.

“He’s okay,” it was Dustin who jumped in. “He has a new trailer courtesy of the government. We made sure, like we made sure your name was cleared too. The town think there was an earthquake and another chemical leak because of it to explain away people seeing things they shouldn’t have. The murders were blamed on Henry Creel coming back to copycat his dad and they made it look like he was killed in the quake. There was a fake body and everything, like they tried with Will.”

“Wayne doesn’t know about any of this?” was Eddie’s next question.

“We kept him out of it, so he didn’t get hurt,” Dustin explained. “And once it was over, the NDAs meant we couldn’t anymore.”

“Thanks for keeping him safe,” Eddie said, but it was clear that he was thinking about other things as well.

“We’ll have to tell him now,” Robin piped up. “He’ll need to know for Eddie’s sake.”

“We can’t,” Hopper pointed out.

“Eddie can,” Steve said before the others could argue about it.

“But the suits,” Dustin pointed out.

“Eddie didn’t sign anything,” he said simply, “he was dead. He can tell his uncle whatever he likes, and we can just back him up. No broken red tape.”

“Point to Steve,” Robin agreed, nodding her head.

“And Eddie has fangs now, so it’s not like we could just pretend he was lying or anything,” Steve added as he thought about it.

“You sure you’re not a strategist?” Eddie asked with a small grin.

“Nope,” he replied, “that’s them,” and waved at the others. “I just got really good at getting round technicalities when dealing with my dad.”

The expression in Eddie’s eyes at that moment made him think that sentiment had hit home. He didn’t know much about Eddie’s father, but he did remember the whole hotwiring conversation and couldn’t help concluding they were probably both in the having a shitty dad club.

Hopper was rubbing his temples, which meant something was coming.

“Right,” the man finally said and looked at his daughter. “You’re sure he’s safe?”

El nodded and gave her dad another small smile at the same time.

“Then we should do this as fast as possible, before the government boys find out something is going on and try and stop us,” Hopper decided. “Munson, how do you feel about going to visit your uncle now?”

Eddie looked shocked.

“Right now?” he asked, as Steve felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

“Right now,” Hopper agreed.

“And Wayne won’t get hurt by this?” Eddie checked.

“The Upside Down is shut off,” El said, “and Henry is dead. The danger is over.”

So many emotions flew across Eddie face.

“Then, yeah, I’m good with going now,” he finally said. Steve bit his lip so he didn’t scream an objection. He did not like the thought of Eddie leaving his home at all.

End of Chapter 6

On to Chapter 7

[good-wine-and-cheese]

Writing Patterns (Tag Game)

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Tagged by @lethotep <3

I am also going to write more than just the first line since I too am a "very short snappy intro line" writer and want to include some more to the context. So you get the first paragraph instead. (I will bold the first lines though)

Generally speaking I try to include "commentary" in my first lines; usually from the character we will be following, but sometimes about the character we will be following. I either want to introduce a little bit of their attitude toward whatever is happening/has happened, or more broadly define what other people think of them.

However if I'm writing a story that either is an AU which requires some world explanation or involves specific historical (fiction or otherwise) events I will often try to identify those to set the scene and center the audience in the time/place.

But yeah usually my very first sentence is pretty short.

1. the indomitable human soul (Astro Boy): Tenma was not one who kept track of the days. Dates, yes; he remembered dates. Important dates like birthdays. Anniversaries. Deaths. But not the days themselves; they were all the same, a singular ebb and flow of time that occasionally involved sleeping, occasionally involved eating, but most often involved working.

2. His Many Multitudes (Astro Boy/PLUTO): So much death. So many tragedies. Every life belonged to someone that was loved, and it was those loved ones who bore the consequence of death. In Gesicht, there had fostered hatred so intense that he had taken human life. In Abullah, his hatred sought to swallow the entire world. And the one to stir that hatred…the one who had stirred it within Atom, too…

3. what world we wrought (PLUTO): ”In recent months, the President of Thracia has leveled heavy criticism toward the Kingdom of Persia for its barbaric treatment of its robotic population. President Alexander has sparked controversy for his approach to foreign policy, taking on a more aggressive approach than his predecessor during an already tumultuous time. Yet, on the issues of robot oppression, the President is said to be…”

4. Cogs and Machines (PLUTO): It was not in the nature of the meekly-mannered inventor of Zeronium to make a fuss. Many - most - knew him to be amicable, sometimes fast-talking, a little bit softspoken in the presence of more imposing faces. Yet even the meek and the quiet had limits, and those who caught sight of Dr. Hoffman hurrying down the hall to the director’s office would claim to recall three things: the stormy glare that made a monstrous thing of his face; the white-knuckle grip he had on a particular folder under his arm; and the heavy force of each stride taken that belonged to someone usually so light-footed.

5. Don't Turn Around (Monster): There weren’t words for this feeling. None that Tenma could even approach to represent it as an emotion. If anything, it was characterized by lack.. It was almost surreal; as he watched Grimmer’s life come to a close, he was the one who was losing touch with what he felt. If Grimmer had just now received a letter that was filled with all of his lost feelings, then Tenma’s had been sealed inside an envelope and lost someplace out of sight. He could do little more than stare, watching as everyone but him broke into mournful weeping and ragged wailing. He found himself questioning why his heart was the only one that felt empty. Why it continued to feel empty, why that emptiness stayed with him even after Johan’s surgery. Had those feelings of his been stolen? Had Grimmer reached out and taken them, in his final moments alive?

6. Ghost on the Shore (Monster): The waves were pretty rough sometimes. Worse when the rain came with them. But it was still beautiful in a way. Just the sound of water crashing and breaking on the rocks, wearing them down slowly, so slowly with time. From the lighthouse it was safe just to watch and listen. Not as though there was much else for a man to do. So, Wolfgang Grimmer kept his own quiet company watching the waves, humming to himself as he waited for the storm to pass. The rocks would be slippery after all that downpour. He’d have to be careful, venturing out and…

7. it takes a lot to understand (Monster): They called an ambulance. It didn't take very long for the sound of sirens to register, but by then it was time to leave. Doctor Tenma wasn't keen to take his chances to be spotted by authorities, but it was understandable given the run-in with those folks at the border that had nearly cost him his passage out of Germany.

8. hello, my old heart (Monster): “Welcome, sir. If there’s anything you need help with, please let me know.”

9. Monster's Abyss (Monster): The case of Peter Jurgens was, by all accounts but one, textbook in its nature from start to finish. Numerous interviews had allowed Gillen to delve into the mind of the killer, shaping anecdotes of memory into the human that existed as he was known today. Indeed, it was easy enough to write Jurgens off as a “monster”, sick and depraved with a hunger for power and sexual thrill. But that was simply a shallow label that held no meaning outside of distancing oneself from the natures of such a man. After all, if Jurgens was simply a “monster”, then he was no longer human. Categorizing violence as monstrous inherently removed it from humanness, and so the average man and woman could sleep comfortably without self-reflection because they, of course, were not monsters.

10. maybe it's the way that i'm supposed to grieve (Monster): I’m worried about him. After everything...do you really think he should be left alone? … I...I know. But I just...I want to be there for him, if I can.

I'll tag @strawberryclementine @duckoffury and anyone else that wants to do it!! I do not know a lot of folks that have 10+ fics I think but please feel free to take this from me if u want <3