#i have gifted it to the world now its your job to make it happen

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh

[kooktrash]

lace & luxury | kim taehyung

summary: Money, Money, Money, must be funny in the rich man’s world. At least that’s how you feel working day and night to make end’s meet and still never having enough. Out of nowhere you get roped into a give and take relationship with a very powerful fashion designer who shows you the way into a life of luxury and lingerie. You’ve become his muse and in exchange he’s become your source of pleasure and riches. It’s a rich man’s world and you’re living in it.

➣ genre/au: sugar daddy!taehyung x exotic dancer!reader [she/her, female anatomy], taehyung aged up

➣ 13.6k words

warnings: smut. tae is 31 oc is 21. a lot of teasing. mention of NDAs. he’s a bit cold to everyone else. oc is an exotic dancer. oc dances on Tae a couple times. Tae adores oc. lavishes in gifts. protected sëx. oc is confident af. oc has belly button piercing. Tae is very handsy. jk and Hobi are oc’s besties so a lot of locker room talk between the three. oral [f receiving].m. multiple positions. missionary. mating press. and riding. an open ending but also I feel like y’all know what’s gonna happen

THE BILLIONAIRE’S CLUB

Money does not buy happiness.

Money does not buy happiness.

Money does not bu—

“Fucking hell,” you groaned in annoyance as you hit the machine in front of you. The vending machine seemed to mock you with its silence even as you pushed the button for your drink a dozen times. There was a clear sign above that said not to hit the machine yet here you were beating the shit out of it with your foot.

Three dollars. It just took three dollars and refused to give you your drink. What a fucking con.

Money doesn’t buy happiness but you know that if you had that nice and refrigerated fizzy drink right now you would be at least .05% happier than you are now. With a defeated sigh you gave the vending machine one final ‘fuck you’ and left. Listen, you’re not a moody person [not usually] but you’re stressed, broke, and hungry… and now annoyed.

“You’re stressing over a drink or three dollars? I can’t tell,” Jungkook asked you as you stood at the entrance to work still thinking about earlier, “Go get a drink from Hobi and once you get on stage you’ll make more than 3$ quickly. No biggie.”

“It’s about the morals, Kook,” you sighed, “In this country even the vending machines are capitalists, taking money from the poor and not giving us anything in return.”

“It’s fine, you take money from horny rich people, speaking of which if you don’t go get ready, boss will throw a fit,” Jungkook said, pushing you forward and cutting your talk short. You whined in frustration as you did as told and headed to the dressing room.

You were a bit dramatic, you know you were. It was just three dollars but damn did that piss you off. You haven’t eaten a single thing since you were working a full day waitressing and now you’ve got to get on stage and dance on an empty stomach. You just paid rent and your stupid student debt bills and now you’re very broke. After tonight you’ll surely have way more money but it doesn’t change the fact that this is a common problem you have.

During the day you waitress and at night you dance at an exotic club where the clients treat you like some dress-up doll they touch whenever they want and stuff crumpled dollar bills in your lingerie because they think it’s sexy. You loved to dance, that was not the problem, it was the people you danced for and why you did it. If you had the money to finish off school you would have a degree by now in fashion marketing but instead you’re stuck with two jobs struggling to pay off loans and reach ends meet. It was exhausting.

“I heard about your drink dilemma,” Hoseok said apologetically as you got to the bar already dressed in lingerie waiting for your cue. He handed you a glass meant for whiskey filled with the fizziness of caffeine and you thanked him profusely before chugging it down.

“But if it makes you feel better, a group of very wealthy looking young men just walked into V.I.P,” he added. You released a content sight as you handed him the empty glass, “I’m not in the mood to be groped tonight.”

“So just the stage? Got it,” he said and you gave him a soft smile as you heard your stage name be called and you left.

“You need to loosen up, get some inspiration even,” Jimin said with a chuckle as he led Taehyung by the shoulders into the red night club. He’ll admit it’s above his expectations but at the end of the day — or night — it’s still an exotic club with women in lingerie unlike he’s ever seen. He should be used to it by now but he’s not. He’s too stressed to even enjoy whatever his friends had planned for him tonight.

“How about that one?” Jimin asked pointing to a dancer who was currently sitting on the lap of an older man wearing the ugliest Rolex watch Taehyung has ever seen. He just shook his head and kept his gaze forward as they went to a V.I.P section close to the stage.

Here’s the thing, Taehyung is new to all of this but at the same time he isn’t. Being the eldest grandson of the one and only original creator of the luxurious lingerie brand, Erotes: Sexy, Sensual, & Surreal, you would think he’s more used to this by now and he is. He’s used to the designs and fashion shows that his grandmother and mother would put on but to be the one in charge of it all now? That’s an entirely different ball game and he’s failing miserably to come up with something for the spring catalog. In truth, his younger sister should have been the one to take over but unfortunately that wasn’t the case and now they’re both unhappy with the outcome. He’s 31, he’s thankful to be able to get in the position he’s in at the head of his own empire but he’s just struggling. How is he supposed to find inspiration to follow their footsteps?

“Next up is the loveliest of them all, Venus, with her sensual movements you’ll have no choice but to fall to your knees, worshiping her like the goddess she is.”

You nearly gagged on stage at your intro as the lights went black and you stood at the center of the stage ready to walk forward when the song started. To clarify, you didn’t choose the stage name.

Some bottle girls brought expensive liquor to their section but Taehyung wasn’t paying attention anymore. He’s not sure when he tuned out how the night was going until you came out on stage. It wasn’t your introduction that drew him in but it was the sudden shift in the air that made him take in what was going on. The lights had gone off with only a red and blue hall above your head and it was the first time he took notice in one of the dancer’s he’s seen tonight.

He didn’t know where to look first, his eyes went from your feet which were in tall crystal heels to the length of your smooth legs before stopping at the first hint of lingerie he could see. You wore baby pink panties under a sheer babydoll dress and you looked simple yet elegant, like the stage was where you belonged. Your hand trailed up from your thigh to your stomach lifting the frill fabric for anyone’s watching eyes and he watched you dance, entranced for the first time tonight.

The lingerie was cute, it was simple and appealing to the eye but it wasn’t for you. He could see it in your strong gaze, this wasn’t right for you. You should be in a dark color that matched your strong presence and the desire you brought upon whoever watched you. You needed something that showed more, less concealing. He can picture you in a garter belt, pearls around your neck maybe…

The way you moved seemed to captivate every single person in the room and Taehyung especially.

By the end of your performance Taehyung watched you walk off stage and it’s the same confidence you put formed and the energy immediately changed when you were gone. He hadn’t realized how focused he was on your dance until he released the breath he had been holding in.

“Getting inspo yet?” Jimin joked as he snapped Taehyung out of his trance with a pat on his leg.

When Taehyung first took over Erotes, everyone expected a lot of changes. The company went from being owned by generations of women to now the first man in charge and not a lot were comfortable considering the lingerie was specifically for women and those others who would choose to wear it—very clearly not Taehyung. He knew he would face a lot of challenges and that’s what’s happening right now.

He wants to create a line of lingerie that the wearers [whoever that maybe, biologically female or not] would feel comfortable in. He doesn’t want to make it simply for the male gaze, he wants the wearer to feel comfortable and sexy and proud of their body. It probably isn’t much help that the person who had suddenly inspired him to create is an exotic dancer but something about you just caught his attention.

He’s solely looking at you from a designer’s point of view and he’s picturing that some of the company’s target audience would be people like you. Of course he’s going to create pieces for those who would just like to feel sexy at home or under their work clothes, but he needs to find inspiration first.

That is the sole reason why he went back to the gentlemen's club a couple nights later all by himself. The atmosphere seemed to fit what he was looking for too and he just needed to be in the element and in the presence of someone he considers sexy.

By the time he arrived it was late and since it was a weekday there weren’t that many people there. Business was good, just not as busy as on weekends but it worked in his favor. When he asked for a private dance they directed him to a red room where all he had to do was wait patiently for you to come in.

To be honest, you were a bit annoyed to do the private dance. Usually the ones who request are young arrogant men who don’t pay enough for what they get and if that wasn’t the client then it was typically some old ass dirty sleazebag who needs Viagra to keep it up. You definitely weren’t expecting for a man who looked like a God to be sitting there on the red velvet couch, dressed in a Dolce & Gabbana suit and had sandy blonde hair. He looked arrogant but for a reason, look at him. He was lounging comfortably on the seat with his arms stretched out on the back of the couch holding a glass of whiskey. His legs were spread in a manly way and his shoes shined even in the darkness.

You didn’t say anything when you walked in but the silk robe you wore simply slipped off your shoulders as the music began and exposed your lingerie to his hungry eyes. He raised his glass to his lips as he watched you let it fall to the floor and saunter over to him. You fell to your knees before him and your manicured hands skimmed over his thighs making his legs open just a little more to make room for you. Neither of you have spoken but for the moment it didn’t feel like you needed to.

The room was a little foggy too but Taehyung could see you very clearly as you pushed up against his thighs until you were standing back up and his eyes locked on yours when you swung a leg over his lap and swayed to the music. His fingers twitched with the urge to touch but he kept himself composed as he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Venus,” you used your stage name for obvious reasons as you situated yourself on his lap. Taehyung wasn’t aware of his moving hand until he was just inches away from touching your waist when you grabbed it and pressed it into the couch. Your breasts pushed against his chest as your fingers locked with his and you whispered into her ear, “You can look but don’t touch.”

“Got it,” he said breathlessly and he really did understand. He knew the rules and honestly he was unaware of what his hand was trying to touch until you called him out on it. He watched you closely as you arched your spine back and his eyes caught on the shiny reflection of your belly button ring and he hated to admit he’s a lot more turned on than he thought he would be.

He honestly was just interested in seeing what you wore tonight but he couldn’t even think about that right now when your body looked so appetizing to him. “Have you ever modeled before?”

You had your back to him now as he watched you bend forward and present yourself to him and once again he had to stop himself from reaching out and touching when you showed off your flexibility. You gave him a simple response as your hand came to the back of his neck and your back pressed against his chest to grind on his lap, “No.”

“Would you want to?” He asked in a whisper when you pulled on his neck tie harshly. His suit would have wrinkles now but he does not mind one bit. You laughed softly and he even liked the sound of that more than the music, “No.”

“I’ll pay you for it.”

“You’re paying for this, isn’t that enough?” You asked with your face just an inch away from his that he could feel the heat run between you.

“It’s far more than enough and yet I still want so much more, Venus, I think you would be a perfect model for me,” Taehyung said honestly, “Since the first time I saw you I wanted to see you in my designs.”

“And here I thought you wanted a dance because you found me attractive,” you teased. He was a client of the club and you should just treat him as such but he’s very attractive and he listened to you when you told him not to touch. Most men would still try and catch a feel even after being warned.

Taehyung released a breathy laugh, “Oh I find you absolutely irresistible but I’m sure that’s not something you don’t hear on a regular basis. I think you know your effect on others especially when you dance like this.”

You smiled, content enough that this God of a man found you irresistible, “What kind of model?”

“Lingerie, a boudoir shoot if you will,” Taehyung said but you wanted to play a little longer and his time was almost up.

“Not interested,” you said seductively and though your rejection stung, the way you said it made his growing arousal all the more prominent.

When his time was up he paid for the 140$ fee for a private dance and when he was ready to tip you and give you the money you let him slip it into the waistband of your panties and with that he left. You took out the money, surprised to count a total of 800$ just for you.

“I’ve never wished I had a pussy before in my life.”

You and Hoseok looked at Jungkook completely speechless as the three of you stood around the ivory box that was delivered to the club. It was from your client the other night and when you told Jungkook that he seemed annoyed.

One, he was mad you got tipped so much for a simple dance and second, that you just got a custom lingerie set designed specifically for you by a billionaire. You only know this because he left the Erotes business card there along with a couple hundred more with a note that said, ‘If you’re interested, come visit me.”

“I smell Sugar Daddy in the air,” Hobi finally said after the long silence that followed an envious Jungkook. To be honest, none of you knew much about the company until Jungkook went ahead and searched it up only to find a picture of the man you danced on just a few nights ago tied to an article titled, ‘the newly appointed CEO of Erotes Lingerie, Kim Taehyung.’

They brought your box over from the club and being their nosy selves, they wanted to see what you got.

The two were at your shitty, run down apartment where the three of you have been talking shit about your main boss all day. There’s nothing specifically wrong with the guy other than the fact that’s he’s a fucking cunt who steals from his dancers and never cares for it a man gets too touchy unless Jungkook has to kick them to the curb. You were all just tired of him.

“Go see what he’s gotta say,” Jungkook said with a smirk, “I’ll even drive you there and if he offers you money just remember how supportive your bestie was.”

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, “Should I?”

That’s how you ended up in front of the skyscraper before you. Erotes was your typical gray building on the outside but there were hues of red lights basically oozing out of the window panes. It felt otherworldly and stepping inside felt like you were stepping into an Oasis on Mount Olympus. There were large statues of Greek gods and goddesses of love inside and the red and yellow lights seemed to set the mood in the corporate building. You walked right up to the front desk with absolutely no clue on what to say that you found yourself stuttering.

“Uh, um, can I speak to Kim Taehyung?” You immediately wanted to slap yourself for the way you just asked to see the CEO OF THE COMPANY and clearly the receptionist wanted to do the same considering she looked you up and down unimpressed before looking back to her computer. You waited for her to say something but after a minute or two she looked at you as if confused why you were still standing in front of her desk.

This time you couldn’t help but scoff at her rude behavior and reached into your purse for the card. You slid the business card across her desk and looking annoyed, she picked it up and looked it over. You smiled, “Now can I speak to Kim Taehyung?”

“Not if you don’t have an appointment,” she smiled tightly and you mirrored her expression. “So can you set an appointment then?”

“For what reason?”

“You can ask him when you set the appointment since he’s the one who told me to come here, or I can just leave and the next time I see him I can let him know how I tried to see him but I was refused,” you smiled and with a clenched jaw she finally picked up. You were bluffing because in truth you didn’t know if he would see you again or it he would just give up on whatever he’s trying to gain but it scared her enough to finally call whoever she needed to.

“What’s your name?”

“Venus,” you said, “That's all.” With another look at you from head to toe she muttered the name to the person on the phone and hung up shortly after. She flashed you another fake smile and said, “Alright follow me.”

You went up the elevator to the 100th floor which meant a long and uncomfortable ride with this snobby receptionist who kept glancing at you like she couldn’t understand why the man upstairs wanted to see you and in truth you weren’t sure either. His secretary gave you the same judging look as she knocked on Taehyung’s large office doors and honestly you didn’t get it.

It was clear you weren’t his girlfriend or anything so what was their deal? Unless he was just some rich guy already engaged or married and they knew you weren’t the wife… maybe you should check that, men are trash anyway—especially ones with a lot of money. When the receptionist left with Taehyung’s secretary you awkwardly stood in front of you as she typed away, “He’s in a meeting, go ahead and sit over there.”

With a small huff in annoyance you took a seat at one of the waiting chairs not far from the front desk. There was a stack of lingerie magazines but you didn’t bother going through them as you got on your phone instead to text your closest friends.

you: im too poor to be in here

hobi: did they check ur bank acc and see u only have 2.75$ in there?

you: fuck u

kook: is he wrong tho

you: no

you: anyway idk I’m getting bad vibes from the employees

hobi: ask if they’re libras and if they say yes you better run

kook: true. I don’t trust libras

“It was great seeing you again Tae, we need to get together for drinks like old times.”

You looked up for a split second to watch a beautiful tall blonde leave his office as he held the door open for her. She had sparkles in her eyes that made you want to gag at the thought of ever looking at a man like that. You visibly cringed and looked back down to your phone and waited until he was done.

you: oh god I’m scared. I’m about to go in

kook: remember that he’s just a man

hobi: ^ a very rich one who made u clothes for dancing on him

kook: yes that too

“I’ll have to see if it fits into my schedule,” Taehyung finally said back seemingly unmoved by her flirtatious smile and as he was out the door with her his eyes shifted to you making you look up. He didn’t send another glance her way as he asked, “Ready?”

You released a sigh as you finally got up from the chair and walked past the shocked blonde like you’ve been here before. Being a dancer meant you needed confidence — or at least pretend like you had it — so that’s how you acted most of the time. Also, he’s a member of the club and at the end of the day you’re still just an exotic dancer who doesn’t have a place in this building meeting with the CEO.

Taehyung is a little surprised at the sight of you. Well, for clarification, he had hoped you would take him up on his offer but he’s just surprised to see you outside of your normal dancing attire. It’s not that he expected to see you dressed provocatively out in public but… well you simply just looked pretty. You wore a plain long skirt that fit your body nicely and a plain fitted long sleeve and regular heels. Your hair was even pinned back in a cute way and it caught him off guard. He looked over to his secretary who was pretending not to watch as he held the door, turning the lock for privacy and following you in.

You looked around the space, his single office was bigger than a studio apartment. There was no need to have so much space especially if it was big enough to have an entire statue of aros. It was obnoxious, kind of. You could see Taehyung’s suit hanging on a hook and all he wore was a navy blue button up long sleeve tucked into black slacks and a belt. The sleeves were even rolled up and the tie seemed just a bit loose. He looked at you, “You received my gift already? I thought maybe you would get it tonight.”

“Someone brought it to me,” you told him as you stood behind his large glass coffee table, “Did you not want to see me?”

He released a small scoff, “On the contrary, it’s a pleasant surprise, I am curious to know what you think.”

“About the lingerie? Yeah, you designed it?” You asked. He nodded, “As you can see this is a lingerie company and I’m the new appointed CEO and designer. The only problem is that I can’t seem to find any inspiration for original and unique designs. I actually was made to go to the club and well that’s when I saw you and I’ll admit, you were very captivating and for some reason I was able to visualize you in a set.”

“Really?” You asked, genuinely surprised. You knew you were at least somewhat attractive but you didn’t think it was enough for someone to design something for you. He said it so confidently and professional like this was just some sort of business meeting for him and in truth this is not what you had in mind when he gave you his business card. You assumed he wanted to try and gain something with the lingerie like give him a private show. The only reason why you had come is because of how good of a tip he left you and why he gave you the gift.

“Yes, that’s why I would have liked it if you modeled for me,” Taehyung said as he rounded the table to get closer, “I mean you seem to wear lingerie confidently and from what I can see now is that you also seem confident in ordinary clothes—is that second hand?”

Your jaw nearly dropped as he read you like a book and you looked down, “Yes? How’d you know?”

Taehyung moved on instead of answering, “Did you bring the gift?”

“Yes.”

He looked around you like he would suddenly find the white box he sent his gift in but all he could see was you. So Taehyung couldn’t help but let his eyes run along the length of your body as he came to a realization and his eyes seemed to widen with peaked interest, “Is that so? Would you be willing to show me?”

A small smile to your face as you nodded, “Of course, I thought that was the whole reason why you wanted to see me.”

He watched as you began to strip your clothes from him right there in the middle of his office just letting the clothes fall. You made sure he was watching too and he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. It was exactly how he pictured it would look. He found himself looking around as if the idea of having a woman undress in his office and looking damn good in it was a crime. Not necessarily a crime, but enough to raise questions but he sort of liked that. He locked the door so it’s not like his secretary can barge in and he doesn’t have any meetings till later.

“Well?” You asked completely undressed aside from the lingerie. It was a simple black bodysuit made of lace with embroidered leaf and vines that met over the valley of your breasts down to your navel where the lace didn’t wrap around. The only thing that kept the lace together were those vines down the middle. The straps were made of silk black ribbons that continued into the cups of your breasts where a clip rested in the middle to undo the top. It seemed plain but the lace had small shimmers of glitter that shined the same way your belly button piercing did. It hugged all your curves in the right places and you fit it so well.

Taehyung just nodded, assessing you with a tight lip smile, “Looks amazing.”

“The lingerie?” You questioned even if it was very clear he was talking about that. This man seemed strange to you. You knew people in the fashion world could be eccentric and creative but this was the first guy you’ve ever met more pleased by the lace you wore rather than the body that wore it. Taehyung’s gaze shifted to your face, “No. The wearer.”

He came up to you, finger lightly tracing the silk strap and sliding it under so it grazed your skin too. You tilted your head to the side, an innocent gaze in your eyes as you looked up at him, “Is that all you needed me for? To dress me up?”

Taehyung’s finger traced up toward the curve of your tilted neck and jaw not yet touching but you could feel the heat from it, “Not the only thing, but I’m too tempted to touch you right now and I know that’s off limits.”

“You’re not a guest of the club right now, are you?” You asked softly. Listen, you knew how to play the game. You knew exactly how you should act to have a man entranced and that’s how you get tipped so well. The amount of money he gave you the other night was enough to cover rent and if you had to find a way to make him tip you again, you will. There’s a reason you became a dancer.

“I’m not,” Taehyung softly said back to you, “So what now?”

“Now you sit,” you lightly pushed at his chest until he was walking backward toward the couch. There was no music playing so it felt a bit awkward for you still yet the second you moved closer to him, he took the initiative to guide you onto his lap as you said, “No music? How am I supposed to perform?”

You were teasing him a bit but he didn’t seem to mind as you straddled his lap, feeling his fingers trace along your ankles toward your thighs, hips, waist, and then linger along your rib cage. Taehyung was too busy looking at your body in his design to care for music, “Do we need it?”

He looked up just as you gave him a smile and said, “Without music it feels too close to sex.”

“Mm,” Taehyung hummed in response. You slowly began to move on his lap and now that he could touch he didn’t hold back. He was still gentle but his hands did come forward to graze your covered breasts before running down the exposed front. You also played with the collar of his navy blue button up, pulling on his tie slowly ready to stop if he wanted you to. “What’s your name?”

“Venu—“

“Your real name,” Taehyung said, feeling his breath hitch when you fully yanked his tie open and pulled him closer. You flashed him a smile that showed the whites of your teeth, “Do you really want to know?”

Taehyung couldn’t help but scoff with a small chuckle, “It’s only fair, you know my name is Kim Taehyung. Now can I know yours?”

“Y/n,” you said as you moved to get off his lap but his strong hand held you in place, not hard enough to feel like he’s forcing you, but enough to know he didn’t want you leaving. You made yourself comfortable once more running your hands up his shirt untucking it and making him look like a complete mess of a CEO. Taehyung just let you too, his hands did move up your rib cage until his thumbs pushed against your breasts but other than that he was letting you lead. Once again it’s like you’re back in the red room with him under you as you perform.

“Y/n,” he repeated as he guided your hips however you moved them. Taehyung will admit, he’s turned on by the whole thing but there’s just no way he couldn’t be, right? You’ve stripped down to what he designed for you, sitting pretty on his lap and he can’t help but want to get closer… it’s only natural.

“How old are you?” He asked.

“22,” you told him and you could see the surprise on his face but you already knew his age since your friends looked him up earlier and you found yourself saying, “But I like them a little older.”

Listen, you have rules as an exotic dancer and performer set for your safety and comfort specifically. You keep things professional when you’re at work and if you run into anyone outside of it you simply act oblivious. You very rarely visit any client unless booked for an event and usually you aren’t alone. You never let them get too touchy or personal yet here you are letting him in all because Taehyung was undeniably attractive and wealthy with some sort of interest in you.

Neither one of you seemed to notice the way you both leaned closer until your lips brushed against his suddenly. Taehyung did pull away as he whispered, “Model for me.”

“I don’t have time,” you whispered back, “I have two jobs.”

There was just a small hint of a kiss but it wasn’t long enough to be worth anything and he said, “I’ll pay better than both.”

You smiled and without much thought into what you were doing, you finally kissed him. Taehyung didn’t need any sort of push to be curling his fingers into your hair and kissing you back deeply. It was an intimate kiss, needy and wet. You had a limp hand on his chest nearly touching his tie and his free hand was down on your thigh. Just as your fingers began to slide toward the buttons of his shirt, a loud ringing cut into the room making you jump in surprise.

Just before you could pull away, Taehyung’s tongue licked along yours drawing a light sound out of you as he chose to ignore the ringing. You figured if he was ignoring it then you would too for the time being and soon enough it stopped.

You pulled away a few seconds later feeling out of breath and hot and he looked the way you felt. Shirt untucked. Tie undone. Hair a mess. Like swollen. Eyes hazy. Jesus, this stranger was beautiful and he didn’t even have to try. Looking down into his eyes it made you snap back into realization. You’ve never gotten so physical with a client before and he’s probably not even going to pay you because there’s no reason for him to, so you're wasting time here. It was cute and fun but it’s over and you should get dressed and move on, right?

Taehyung let you slide off his lap as the phone made you both realize where you were and he tried fixing his own appearance as much as possible. He kept his gaze down when you undressed — knowing the moment was over — for privacy but he couldn’t help but ask, “What’s the other job?”

“Waiting on tables,” you told him, slipping your long skirt back on. His brows furrowed, “Really?”

“Why? Is it a surprise?”

“A bit,” he said honestly as you both stood straight looking as organized as you could after what happened. You didn’t give much of a response then, only said, “Alright, I’ve got to go if I want to catch the bus.”

You were looking at the time on your phone not noticing as he left you for a moment only to come back with a checkbook. He didn’t say much as he quickly scribbled away and handed it to you. Your eyes met when he grabbed your hand and made you hold the check.

“This is for today,” Taehyung said, sounding a bit out of it, “Um… I’ve never done anything like this but…” he looked down at the check, “Maybe we can work something out between us. Beneficial to us both.”

You raised a brow as you looked at the number written down on the check, “How so?”

His thumb brushed some hair away from your face and without thinking he leaned further down until your lips never touched but didn’t move closer. You knew he was probably giving you the choice to decide if you want to do it or not and you reached up to kiss him. His hand was firm against your cheek and kept you in place as he pulled back and ran his tongue across his lower lip, “Like this.”

“Truthfully, I don’t have time to go out with someone and personally I don’t want to. I have a lot of work to do and being in a relationship is not something I want right now but,” Taehyung kissed you again when you didn’t pull back, “I want to be able to do this.”

You smiled, pulling back, “You can find any woman who would die to be with you even if it’s for one night.”

“I can,” Taehyung said in agreement, “But I want you. You won’t push me for a relationship, would you?”

“Obviously not.”

“Then let me spoil you with whatever you want and in exchange—“

“Let you have me?” You asked and he nodded his head.

Taehyung was attractive.

He was wealthy and respectful.

There is no doubt in your mind that every woman he comes across wants him yet…

For some reason he would rather have a give and take relationship with no ties and he only wants it with you. It might even free up a little bit of your time too. You finish one job only to go to another that very same night. You’ve been trying to pay off college debt and other things too so money always seemed to be an issue. You don’t mind dancing, you actually enjoy it and that’s where your friends were. You would have to cut back time at the restaurant—it seems like you’ve already made your decision.

“Give me your number then,” you said. It was a short contact information exchange and just as you reached the door with Taehyung behind you, there was a loud knock against it.

The second he opened it, your eyes fell to the secretary who worked right outside his office. You watched the way her eyes seemed to narrow as she found you back in your sweater and long skirt — completely unaware of what was underneath. Taehyung turned to you, “Let’s connect later tonight, I’ll give you a call. Miss Jia, please call a cab for my guest before telling me whatever was so urgent you had to interrupt us more than once.”

The secretary looked stunned before nodding her head and running back to the desk giving you one last dirty look.

As strange as this might sound, you had no idea what to expect the last time you had seen Mr. Kim. You understood what he had implied and in the moment you wanted the same but now as you’re reading over the contract he’s had printed out for you, it all was beginning a little too real. It wasn’t long but the words felt like they just went on forever and ever and he looked at you like he was waiting for you to have some sort of question. It was nothing more than a non disclosure agreement and you understand what it’s for but it all felt just a little bizarre. You’re not put off by it by any means, you’ve signed a few as a dancer, but this will include sexual acts—things like what you did in his office and much more… did you really not mind doing this? Even if it felt a little like signing your freedom away.

Maybe you were just worrying too much, it’s not like you were looking for a real relationship and at least this way you’ll get money and your sexual needs dealt with from an ungodly attractive man.

“Is everything alright?” Taehyung asked once the silence had gone on for too long, “If this is not something you’re interested in then…”

“It’s not that,” you held the paper up and looked over at him from across the long stretch of dining table between you, “I thought this all started because you wanted me to model for you. There’s nothing about that here?”

Taehyung just looked at you, the corner of his lips turning upward as he smirked, “Well this contract is just between us two, I figured if you wanted to stop busting tables or dancing, I could hire you on as a model the legal way.”

You released a laugh, “And have to deal with seeing all of your prissy employees more often? Probably having to work with them? No, thank you.”

His eyes hardened as he watched you eye the contract. Before he could ask you what changes you would like him to make to get you to agree, you picked up the pen and quickly signed your name. A small smile came to his face as you slid the white sheet over to him and he quickly signed in his own name without a single ounce of hesitation, looking up at you with that same dark gaze you’re used to seeing before he gets his hands on you.

After dinner, you got into the back of Taehyung’s G-wagon with him following suit, ordering his driver to take you both back to his penthouse. You couldn’t help but smirk, “Are we starting so soon?”

Taehyung only smirked back as he stared out his window but you watched the way he loosened his tie with one hand, “This is soon to you, dear? After the day in my office?”

You’ve grown slightly accustomed to the deep mess of his face and the seductive way it sounded when it was just the two of you and you couldn’t help but reach over the back seat and press your face against his neck, breathing softly as you said, “You just don’t seem as eager yet.”

He turned to look at you, tongue running along his lips like he was ready to devour you and before he could utter out a single word, he felt your lips on his neck, kissing softly and making his eyes shut for a second. Once the shock had worn off he couldn’t help but look toward the rear view mirror where his driver was trying so damn hard not to stare back and catch sight of your arched back and short dress riding up with the way you stood on your hands and knees on the backseat, just kissing his neck teasingly. Taehyung brought an arm around to run a hand along your back, just keeping you close before turning his neck to capture your lips with his, and just like that the two of you were making out the entire drive to his home.

He blames it on all the teasing you did every time you would meet for his impatience. He’s felt your body on his, he’s touched your lips and stared at you as you stripped for him, it’s not his fault he couldn’t wait much longer to get to the real thing.

You barely had time to take in the sight of the hundred story building of luxury apartments before you when Taehyung was already pushing you through the front door and into the empty elevator. Immediately, you threw your arms around his neck, dragging him close and kissing him once more. He kissed back with such eagerness to feel all of you, hands holding your sides like his life depended on it, not wanting you to slip away.

His penthouse was huge, straight out of a movie and when you walked in it even echoed with each step you took.

“Welcome home si—“ a woman’s voice died on the spot and you couldn’t help but squeal at the thought of being caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. The two of you both turned to look at her, Taehyung holding you by the waist to keep you pressed against his front and you took the chance to get a good look at her.

She was dressed in a stiff pencil skirt with a gray blouse tucked into it. Her hair was in a tight bun and she wore black flats. She looked like house staff to you but you’re not sure, all you know is that she’s just as surprised to see you as you are at her. Taehyung released a deep sigh, clearly displeased, “Did I not tell you to head out early today?”

His voice was stern and authoritative, no room to argue and she looked genuinely scared like she would lose her job or something. You pulled away from Taehyung nervously but he didn’t let you get far as he kept his hold on you, waiting for the cleaning lady to leave and she did so rather quickly, not shying away from looking at you in confusion.

It wasn’t until she was scurrying out the door that you couldn’t help but laugh as you looked around, “What? Do you not have guests over often?”

“Not like you, no,” Taehyung said as he stood behind you, slipping the strap of your dress off your shoulder before placing a kiss on it, “Not as pretty.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you stared up at the large chandelier above you, “So you only bring home ugly women?”

Taehyung couldn’t help but chuckled as he slipped his hand off your shoulder to your wrist, pulling you along toward his room once more, “We’ve been over this before, I don’t have the energy nor time to deal with romantic partners, and we don’t just pick up any woman off the street and bring her to my home.”

“No,” you teased stepping into his room, “Only women you meet when they dance on you half naked.”

He smirked now, watching as you began to slip your dress off only a couple steps ahead of him walking toward his king sized bed of satin sheets. He couldn’t help but begin to remove his blazer, undoing his tie too as your dress fell at your feet. He slowly began to unbutton his shirt, unable to keep his eyes off when you bent down by the waist to undo your heels, ass in perfect display for his eyes only, “My apologies for having taste.”

Once he was fully undressed he walked straight to you, pushing you onto the bed and taking you by surprise. You quickly turned on your back using your elbows to sit up as you watched him began to crawl between your legs still fully dressed but clearly on his way to change that.

"God, your body is so fucking hot," he said in a low growl as he took in the sight of you on his bed. He’s always thought this since the second he saw you on stage and now he has you in his sheets looking at only him and he couldn’t help but allow himself to let his eyes roam down your body.

You bit your lip as you felt his hands begin to slide along your stomach toward your breasts. A small smirk came to your face as he stopped, looking straight down at the center of your breasts and once he realized, he couldn’t stop his fingers from moving. Taehyung released a small chuckle as he held the small clip that rested right between the mounds of your boobs, “Did you wear this just for me?”

“Obviously,” you said with a small moan as he tugged harshly on the clasp, quickly undoing it and your boobs practically spilled out as your bra fell. He smiled, “Like my own little present.”

Taehyung did not hesitate to dip down and place a kiss on your collarbone, hands cupping your bare tits now and holding the weight of them against his palm. You released a breathy sigh of hen he sucked harshly on your skin leaving a line of red live marks trails toward your boobs until finally he was mouthing at your left nipple, tugging at it softly with his teeth and letting out a quiet groan himself.

He’s ashamed to admit how turned on he was just at the sight of your tits in his face, he’s imagined what they look like under your lingerie but right now you’re laying bare beneath him letting him lavish you in wet and sloppy kisses.

“I need you to take this off,” You told him as he licked along your nipple and slowly began to tug at his shirt. He just smirked sitting up in his knees, “Take it off me.”

You did just that, ripping the buttons open and tugging hard enough to make his body move toward you with his lips parted, turned in by how rough you pulled on him. His eyes fell to your nimble hands as they yanked open the top button of his slacks and undid the zipper, brows scrunching together, “Hurry up.”

He let out a soft laugh at your impatience, nodding his head as he flung the shirt off and quickly got off the bed to kick his slacks off too. He stood there in his Versace briefs, dick print evident and it only made you smirk when you saw how hard he was. You couldn’t help but giggle, “Just for me?”

He picked up on your teasing tone similar to the one he used when he asked if you wore the front clip bra earlier. He brought a hand down to his dick, palm running over it, feeling the weight of his bulge, unbelievably hard, “Do you want it?”

You spread your legs even further apart, “Give it to me, Mr. Kim.”

You said the last part in a mocking tone, remembering the way his employees always referred to him as and he just big his lip, crawling back between them and dipping down to kiss you. You welcome his kiss happily, his body pressed against yours and dick snuggly between your legs rutting against your covered pussy for any sort of friction he could get. Your tongue snuck into his mouth, wet and sticky as it swirled around his and a line of drool connected the two when he pulled away from the kiss till only your tongues kissed.

“Are you going to fuck me yet or make me wait?” You asked with your arms wrapped around his neck, hips grinding against his clothed cock, “I’m already so wet for you.”

Taehyung released a low groan at your dirty words when he felt your hands slide down toward his briefs and begin to tug them down on your own accord.

“Horny girl,” he said deeply as he reached down to tug on your underwear, a tearing sound heard clearly and your na dropped in surprise but he just smirked, “I’ll design you a new pair, love, a million of them for every new set I ruin.”

“That’s a big promise, Taehyung,” you said watching him reach into the drawer in his nightstand for a condom. Taehyung just smirked, “A promise I could keep.”

Taehyung knew he should give your pussy some affection, maybe get you stretched out before he completely impaled you with his cock but as he looked down at the gap of your entrance and the way your slick pooled inside it, he wondered if you would even need it. Your lips parted in surprise at the weight of his cock sliding between your folds coating him in your arousal, teasingly grinding against you until his tip bumped into your clit, “Want my cock, pretty girl?”

His hair was all out of place and his lips swollen from how hard he bit his bottom lip, waiting for you to nod

Your hips were becoming restless, “Give it to me.”

Taehyung smirked finally taking his cock in hand and guided his tip toward your entrance and before he could even attempt to push in, your hands were pulling at his hips and with a low groan, he sank into your heat in one go. You both moaned against each other as his hips fell against yours and unable to stop himself, he laid his body flush over yours, moaning against your chest, “Oh fuck.”

He’ll be honest and say he can’t remember the last time he had the chance to be in a tight wet pussy but he does remember that it didn’t feel like this. It was probably fast and unsatisfactory, just a way for him to release whatever stress he had at the moment. This… this was all just so fucking good, the teasing that led up to this, the dancing, the lingerie, all of it.

"Please fuck me,” you breathed out as he finally began to move and you wrapped your legs around his waist only for him to bring his arms around the underside of your knees and drag your legs up toward your chest. Your pussy stretched wider in the new position as he began to thrust, cock pushing in and out of your wet cunt with low moans leaving his lips.

Your hands clawed at his back and it made his eyes roll with the burn of each scratch, veins in his arms protruding as he made sure that you didn’t move your legs from the position he put you in and fucked you in a mating press that had you releasing moan after moan, head tossed back into the pillows in complete ecstasy.

“Such a good pussy,” Taehyung licked his lips but his mouth felt so dry, fucking you hard with his dick, “Fuck baby, haven’t had pussy this good in so long.”

“Good thing it’s yours,” you moaned, as he rocked his hips into yours roughly. His back muscles tensing with each powerful thrust and he growled, “Show me then.”

You didn’t need any explanation to know what he wanted and you were a bit thankful to relieve your sore legs from this position as he rolled onto his back with you on top.

"So good," you moaned loudly, when his hand groped a handful of your ass digging his nails in with small grunts every time your thighs smacked his. If he thought you were a flexible dancer, nothing compared to the way you split your legs open for him, bouncing on his cock using him like he was just another client of yours watching you perform. He didn’t mind that one but especially now that he could touch and he didn’t hold back from lifting his hand only to smack your ass hard enough to make you whine at the pain. Your hair fell to one side and your hand rested on his chest, riding him like your life depended on it just enjoying the depth his cock went into your cunt, “You’re so big.”

“Mhm,” he moaned in agreement, it was one of his proudest achievements and it had him pushing his upper body up to sit, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and fucking up into you in this new position. Unable to hold himself back he dropped forward, your back hitting the opposite end of his bed instead of how you had originally been when your head was against the pillow. He quite literally made you switch to the other side just so he could be on top again but his hands never left your ass even as they got trapped between your body and the bed, “Am I fucking you good?”

"Mhm,” you whined softly, “I’m gonna—oh fuck, Taehyung.”

He only growled in response, drilling his cocking into you fully allowing himself to lose all sensibility and just do what he’s been wanting to do since he saw you in his lingerie—just fuck you roughly like he knew you were a slut for.

“You a slut for me?” He asked and you surprisingly nodded your head making him kiss along your neck, “Say it.”

“Wanna be your slut,” you moaned, nails scratching along his back as he just pounded the fuck out of you with his big dick, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“My slut gonna cum?” He asked in a whispered voice, feeling your legs shake and he just knew you couldn’t hold on any longer, "Cum for me then.”

“Oh my go—“ your words died in your throat when he swallowed your mouth with his, giving you the nastiest kiss you’ve ever had and just like that, the knot in your stomach came undone just as he came in his condom. He released a low growl into your mouth as he felt the flood of your release around him, pussy tightening and he physically began to shake through his orgasm.

You’re not sure how much time had passed with his cock still stuffed inside you and once the two of you both came down, he was finally pulling out of you with a tired groan, “Goddamn.”

You were both covered in sweat as he fell to your side and released a sigh, “Fuck, that was good.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, still out of breath as you attempted to sit up, “Bathroom?”

Taehyung pointed toward the door in the corner of his bedroom letting you go on your own to clean up. As you left you wondered what would happen now. Were you supposed to leave now? Was he at least going to call you an Uber or have his driver take you home? As you finished up, you decided you would ask him, you will pick up your dress and pray it wasn’t torn like your underwear and just leave with your dignity in tact.

When you stepped into the bedroom it was empty, you looked around in shock and feeling the insecurity of being completely bare after rough sex was too much to handle and you picked up your dress, wincing a little at the soreness between your legs.

Just as you were getting ready to pull the dress on, a warm hand touched your shoulder blade, moving your hair out of the way and your breath hitched. Taehyung pressed a soft kiss along your neck, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t you want me to leave?” You asked looking fully convinced it was what he wanted until he hugged you from behind, hand caressing your arm until he laced your fingers together, “What I want you to do is get your pretty self back in bed.”

You couldn’t help but blush, not sure how to handle the tenderness in his voice and touch. Usually after sex the guy would barely pay you any mind, basically toss you to the side even if it was your boyfriend but Taehyung only pulled you back into bed.

“I’m cold,” you said in a soft voice, suddenly feeling a bit more pliant to get in bed with him. Taehyung just smiled as he lifted the covers, “Then come lay down and let me warm you up.”

“I didn’t expect the CEO to be soft after how hard you fucked me,” your words were blunt and yet he still smiled pulling you into his side to cuddle.

“I was just giving you what you asked for, I’m not a monster, Y/n,” as he said that he pressed a hand to your hip, rubbing the part that was sore from all the positions he had you in, “If I was too rough, just tell me.”

“Don’t worry, I liked it,” you snuggled against him, letting him sooth the pain in your muscles as you rested a head on his chest. You brought a leg up around his waist and he hugged you close, “Good, but don’t think I’m letting you leave this bed anytime soon. I want to hold you to make up for all the marks I left.”

“Fine,” you yawned against him, “I’m tired anyway.”

Hoseok could not hide the look of shock on his face the next time he saw you. You wore an expensive silver diamond necklace, “You actually did it.”

It didn’t take him long to figure out what happened, especially when you grinned teasingly, “I did, and let me just say, oh my god.”

“Oh my god what?” Jungkook asked, coming over. The club has yet to open yet so the only people around were employees and that meant you could all hang around before actually having to do anything. That’s how a bartender, a body guard, and an exotic dancer, found yourselves sitting in a private booth having a very private discussion.

All you had to do was give Jungkook the look for him to examine you curiously, eyes widening at the sight of what adorned your neck, “You screwed the rich guy?!”

You nodded, not all offended by his crass tone, knowing he was just caught off guard, “He was so… so… listen, I’m not in love but wow.”

“That good, huh?” Hoseok asked before looking at Jungkook, “I wondered if I’ve ever been good enough to brag to her friends like this after just one night.”

You gave him a feigned pitied expression, “You’re about seven figures short of being that good.”

He playfully glared at you as he said, “Money doesn’t make up for ability.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook agreed with his equally broke friend, “Quality over quantity.”

Your brows furrowed wondering if he used the phrase right but unable to create a concrete thought on it, you decided to move on, “Well I guess Taehyung just happens to be lucky enough to have both.”

“So how does this work?” Hoseok asked, deciding to just change the subject before you destroy his ego any more than you already have, “Did he just toss cash out on the counter and leave or did he stay and do all that lovey dovey shit for shits and giggles?”

Despite your two best friends being guys, you all felt extremely comfortable discussing your sex lives. When you first started working for the club you thought they were so fucking hot that you would explode right on the spot if they even looked at you… now you can only see them as friends who know way too much about your sex life and vise versa… You did not need to know about the time Jungkook got head wearing nothing but his stupid toe socks.

Taehyung didn’t throw cash at you. You had originally thought he had wanted you to leave once you were done but he went as far as pulling you back in bed and made sure you stayed till morning when he had a driver drop you off back home.

You shook your head no, “No, I didn’t leave till morning when he was getting ready to leave. He let me sleep in when he left and when I woke up a check was laying under this necklace.”

“Should I get myself a sugar mama?” Jungkook asked in all seriousness but the girl dancing on the stage was done and you wanted to practice a new dance.

You shrugged as you stood, “Good luck finding one.”

“Sir,” his secretary Jia knocked in his door lightly, “Ms. Choi is here to see you.”

It took him a second to respond as he looked at her slightly displeased. She knows by now that unless he has an appointment with her, he does not want her just storming into his building. It was very obviously too late when Yuna was letting herself in following the secretary, the familiar blonde hair tied back with a hair clip.

“Do you have an appointment?” Taehyung asked from the comfort of his desk chair. She rolled her eyes at him, “Come on Tae, since when did I need an appointment to see you?”

“Since always,” he said, not bothering to rise from behind his desk, “You just never listen.”

With a small huff in annoyance, she plopped down on his couch, “Well, I just wanted to know who the girl was last time I was here. She didn’t have an appointment either.”

Taehyung seemed to stiffen. He absolutely hated when she asked too many questions like she had the right to know. It’s been heard and he still doesn’t understand how she can’t get the hint that he’s just not interested in her. He does not care that they’re family friends. He does not care that their parents would prefer them to marry. He just does not care about her beyond a friendly view. He enjoys being her friend and he’ll always be on her side but she also needs to know her place—which isn’t next to him.

“But I was expecting her,” Taehyung said simply, not feeling the need to elaborate on what he meant.

Jia just continued like he hadn’t said anything, “Who is she anyway? I didn’t peg you as the type to like them so young.”

“A few years never hurt anyone,” Taehyung said, looking down at his phone to see you finally responded to his last text.

taehyung: I’ve got dinner plans but I’m free after. are u?

you: nope, I’ve gotta work at the club tn and u left me a bit sore :/

He couldn’t help but smirk, lip pulled between his teeth as he remembered last night. The two of you were rough, aroused from the get go and he was not able to hold back. You told him not to so in the end he didn’t and now you’re sending him a picture of a small bruise he left on your hip. He was tempted to show you the scratch mark you left on his shoulder blade from clawing at his back.

He ran his thumb across his lips, unable to stop himself from noticing the red lingerie you wore and he knew you would be performing tonight. It was late in the evening and he did have dinner plans but he’s sure he can move it around… maybe.

taehyung: tomorrow?

you: working at the restaurant till close

Jia watched him completely ignore that she was even there and it was starting to really annoy her. She knows that they’re not dating and they most likely never will but she just doesn’t get it. Does he realize how many guys think he’s lucky just for her considering him?

“So are you two dating or is she just an easy lay?” Jia couldn’t help but ask and that barely got his attention enough to glare at her.

“Careful Jia, you’re beginning to sound bitter and I hate bitter women,” Taehyung said with a deep gaze that had her biting her tongue, “Now is there anything you need or did you just come to complain?”

He looked back down to his phone as he typed back a response.

taehyung: I’ll see u before u gotta go

you: what about ur work?

taehyung: I’m boss. I can do whatever I want

“That’s all,” Jia said, plastering a forced smile on her face and rising to her feet, “Just wanted to know who the slut was.”

That made Taehyung snap, “Go ahead and walk your ass out, Jia, I don’t want you coming back here until you learn how to act.”

Taehyung will never deny how much of a classist he really was deep down. Maybe not to the extent as his friends but when he stepped into your apartment he had become very aware of your financial situation. It wasn’t a studio apartment but pretty damn close and just being in there made him feel a bit suffocated. The whole place had to be about the size of his office.

“Are you judging?” You asked, arms crossed over your chest and hip popped out just slightly. Even knowing you were giving him attitude, he couldn't help but smile and say, “Only slightly.”

He just wanted to see if he would get a reaction. You scoffed, “Well sorry not all of us were born with a silver spoon in our mouths and a lingerie empire just handed to us.”

Normally Taehyung would get annoyed if someone said that to him, he’s very aware of his privilege but it annoyed the hell out of him when his own wealthy friends would say it. Instead of getting frustrated he just shrugged, “I’m just saying, two jobs and this is all you get? I could help y’know.”

“I don’t need a handout,” you told him even if it sounded a bit hypocritical. You know he’s giving you money but that was different, it was like a job that you got to enjoy too. He was very attractive and he was really good in bed, plus he’s lavished you with gifts every day of this week and yes you’ve allowed yourself to be spoiled but for him to offer help for an apartment? Now that was a bit too much, even for you.

Taehyung only smirked as he stood in front of you now, hand sliding under the waistline of your short skirt, “Who said anything about a handout?”

You rolled your eyes even as you let him begin to kiss down your neck, “I’ve got to work in an hour.”

“Plenty of time,” he muttered against your skin, “I just want a taste anyway.”

There was something about a rich, attractive man desperate to touch you that always had you smiling. Taehyung was slowly dropping to his knees and kissing down your clothed sides, raising your shirt to move it out of his way, “And if you quit the restaurant it’ll free up a lot of time for us, you know I can give you more anyway.”

“Yeah?” You asked teasingly, “And what about when you get tired of me?”

His fingers found their way under your skirt and pulled at your underwear, a smile on his face, “Tired of this? Never.”

“Hmm, I’ll think about it,” you bit your lip as he disappeared under your skirt, placing soft kisses along your thigh getting closer and closer to your heat.

Taehyung’s hands circled to the back of your thighs, going higher and until he was groping your hurt, nose brushing against your bare pelvis leaving teasing touches that had your breath hitching. He kissed your mouth doing everything to avoid the space between your legs and you were struggling not to move away from his hold. You were standing in the middle of your living room with no back support whatsoever. Your hand snuck under your skirt to move it held a firm grip on his hair.

Just before you could hurry him along, a breathy sigh left your lips when he pressed a tentative kiss on your hood clit feeling the way it began to rise with arousal. The single kiss became two and finally his tongue was slipping between the folds to lick it directly, feeling it harden. He looked up at you from between your legs urging you to move closer to his face with his hands on your butt pushing you into him and you had to spread your legs even further to do so. Taehyung sat prettily on his knees just under you, his tongue flattening against your slit, licking up the pool of wetness you were protruding rather quickly. You had to bite back your lip to hold in a moan and his brows scrunched together in displeasure. You hissed at the feel of his nails sinking into the softness of your ass in warning, “Don’t hold back on me. I wanna hear you.”

You barely had a chance to nod your head in response when he dug his face even further into your wet cunt, tongue lapping at your slick before traveling the tip of it all the way up to your clit and flicking it a couple times, the hard nub covered in his spit. You couldn’t help but let out a louder moan as you failed to pull your hips away from the pleasure with his hands holding you in place.

Your hand tightened in his hair when his tongue curled inside your pussy traveling between your folds until he was swirling it around your hardened clit once more. He wrapped his lips around the small nub, sucking softly while his tongue continued to flick the tip of it, meaning around your clit when you pulled on his hair. You were completely soaking his chin but that did not stop Taehyung from making out with your clit, hands keeping you upright so he could eat you out to his heart’s content.

"Oh god," you moaned as he moved a little rougher now, never once easing up on your clit and mouth open as he fucked you with his tongue. Taehyung knew he was on a time limit because you had to get ready for your shit too so he was doing everything he can to make you cum soon. Your jaw went slack at the sudden rough feeling of his two front teeth just barely applying pressure to your clit teasingly and you felt your legs begin to shake. You repeated yourself, “Oh god, Tae, I’m gonn—“

He licked along your swollen folds, lighting tugging on them with his teeth, not enough to hurt but enough for you to jolt in surprise and you were damn near rutting against his face, ducking your pretty pussy into his wainting mouth.

Taehyung didn’t need a verbal sign to know you were at your breaking point, he could practically feel the way your cunt twitched and just like that, his mouth was being flooded with your released and like a starved man, he happily licked it up.

“Good girl,” he said softly but in his usual deep voice as he pressed a chaste kiss to your mound before dropping your skirt back down and caressing your thighs as he stood up.

From the look the secretary had given you, you just know she was very displeased to see you again. You’re not sure if it’s because she felt like she had a chance with Taehyung or maybe she just doesn’t think you’re good enough for her employer, but she never failed to have a scowl in her face when you walked in, this time sporting a long Prada coat that reached down to your mid-thigh.

Once again you were here and her boss failed to tell her he had an appointment with you and she’s started to realize what your relationship is with him. You just know in her head she’s saying every word she can to make you seem like a slut but frankly, you didn’t care. You were here in business today… real business.

Okay, well, still with your body but it was different today.

When you got in his office he immediately locked the door and pressed a kiss to your lips in greeting. You whined when the camera around his neck dug into your chest but he smiled as he pulled away, “Let me see.”

“Eager?” You asked, “Take this off me then.”

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to do just that. He pulled in the tie in the front and practically yank off the coat he bought you, eyes scanning your body with his usual lustful gaze.

“You know, you should make your lingerie more affordable,” you said to him as he bid his lip at the sight before him. You were wearing white today with satin ribbons and sheer lace. You put on some body shimmer too and you just looked like a little present for him to unwrap. It was another custom design for you aside from the garter belt you added for a nice touch. Taehyung just nodded as he pulled you by the hand toward the couch, “I’ll look into it.”

He directed you to lay down, a hand down your back as he moved you however he wanted you to be. Today would be a different sort of touching, he was only making you pose however he liked on the expensive couch of his. He had you on your stomach, butt slightly raised making your back arched and he framed your hair around your face perfectly. You rested a side of your face on the couch with an arm stretched out behind you and the other tucked under your chin.

He took a step back, raising the camera up for him to get a good view and that’s how it started. Taehyung looked so fucking hot as he snapped picture after picture of you in whatever pose he liked. He wore his usual white button up but it looked completely messed up. The top three buttons were undone exposing his chest, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair a slight mess. He looked like a sleazy photographer even if he was anything but.

Remember in the beginning when he asked you to model for him and you just kept saying no? Well, there was a change of plans because now you’re in his office doing just that and modeling for him. You don’t even know how he finally convinced you because this was definitely something you weren’t used to. Obviously you were confident in yourself when it came to dancing or putting on a show for Taehyung but to have yourself photographed for others to see? That felt a bit much.

Still, he asked you and you said yes so now here you are listening to his words of assurance, “You look so good, baby.”

Of course with his words you were able to get more into it and did your own poses that had him smiling, “Such a pretty girl.”

“How many more?” You asked as you laid on your side and Taehyung took more close ups of the material. He sighed, “Almost done.”

It went on for a few more minutes till you were beginning to get fed up and Taehyung knew it.

“I’ve got something for you,” Taehyung said as the shoot came to an end and you watched him head toward his desk as you reached into your bag and changed into real clothes. You only came in the coat earlier because you knew he would like to take it off you but now that you’re done and you had work, you had to change. You watched him curiously as he came over to you with a yellow enveloped and a smile on his face. You furrowed your brows in confusion as you took the envelope and opened it.

Taehyung watched your eyes widen with a smile on his face as you skimmed the document, hearing a small jangle and turning it over to drop the last of its content into your palm.

“What���s this?”

“Papers to your new apartment,” Taehyung said as you examined the key, “It’s in your name and fully paid. I’ve signed a contract that covers all the added bills even if you and I happen to fall out.”

“Why’d you do this?” You asked as you looked at the picture of the apartment building. He shrugged, “Call me greedy but I want to spend more time with you and I want you to leave the restaurant, at least. This way you won’t have to worry about making more if I’ve covered your student debt and your housing.”

You just looked at him, unsure how to feel because this all was too much but at the same time you weren’t completely put off by it. You couldn’t comprehend why he would go as far as putting it in your name because then he won’t be able to take it away if you two end.

He didn’t expect you to be jumping in glee but your silence worried him a bit and he had to sit on the edge of the coffee table in front of you to talk, “Sign it and it’s yours, baby, if you want it.”

He handed you a pen and like before when you signed the NDA, you signed the contract wordlessly after reading through it all. He couldn’t help himself, happy to spoil someone with goods and pulled you into him with a hand behind your head and a kiss on your lips.

“You’re spoiling me too much,” you said between kisses and he only smiled.

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” He said, making you laugh softly. When you pulled away you checked the time, eyes widening, “I’ve got to get to work.”

Taehyung released a low groan in a whine, “Noooo.”

You smiled, “How else am I supposed to resign?”

That made him smile and finally, he walked you to the door, “We’ll work out a move-in day and I’ll hire a moving truck so you don’t have to lift a single finger.”

You said your goodbyes and like before he ordered his secretary to call you a cab and promised to see you tonight.

Just after you left, Taehyung called his secretary in holding a flash card in his hand, “I need you to go get these printed, I don’t care how much it costs and if they tell you they can’t fit it in, offer them more. I want these by the end of tonight.”

By late evening Taehyung had what he wanted and a worker was in to install all over his office. There were beautiful black and white photographs, high quality and with a nice depth of field with shadows in all the right places. He purposely did not include your face in a single shot per your request but at least he got to admire the pretty body of yours he gets to touch.

The one above his desk was his absolute favorite, a four foot picture of your breasts clad in the pretty white lingerie wearing his gold Cartier tiger necklace that stopped perfectly at the start of your cleavage, right between them. He looked at it proudly as it looked against the wall behind his desk, distracted by it to the point that he didn’t hear his friend storm into his office with a loud gasp.

“Holy shit,” Jimin did a full 360 as he took in the new art work in his office. Aside from the huh one he had about four others of you in various poses. One was just your arched back, another of your thighs, one with your hand grazing your side and finally, another of his favorite, a pretty view of your belly button ring where he oh so kindly wrote his signature down right next to it with a heart.

“Who’s the new model and is she single?” Jimin asked, smirk on his face as he watched his friend turn to him, clearly displeased.

Jimin wasn’t used to seeing Taehyung like this. Taehyung was always put together and never really let his emotions show. Even if there would come the rare chance when he would be in a relationship he was always private about it but not like this. Jimin has no clue who the person in the pictures was and he was unaware of the NDA you and Taehyung signed. In truth, Taehyung shouldn't even have these pictures in display for anyone who walks into his office to see but he’s not taking them down. The rules of the contract are slowly leaving his head and he’s wondering if the same is happening to you.

Taehyung looked back at the pictures adoringly, “Don’t worry about it, she’s all mine.”

::.

idk how I feel about this 😭💀um hopefully it wasn’t horrible idk man fr. also I’ll probs add more to their relationship in short drabbles

collab taglist: @reissun @piecsblog @joyjunk @kityjoonie @soniaassomething @kioski18 @thvlover7 @cherrymonlightt @nono12bnd @taebangtanbabe @softie00 @exactlygreatcoffee @taetaecatboy @hellbornsworld @taebae19 @theoddinarygirl @queenv1997 @sweet-sourhotcoco @ohsweetmimosa @taebaelove @prajusstuff @amad04 @springfall @peterstarkchrishiddleston @tae-gf @dasa3040 @xyrusty @jjkluver7 @superchamchi88 @bluebloou @eat-sleep-bts-blog1 @bluelesbiann @bachiraslvr @gloriousyouthstudent @hani0407 @ayifawn @yoongiwantsme @kimseokjinsmirror1233 @hellfire-writes

[stevie-petey]

episode five: dig dug

“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?” Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.” “Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.” He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”

Summary: you and dustin bury a body and con your mother into fleeing town, great sibling bonding time ! you play hockey with a monster, dustin gets ghosted by his friends, and now it's your turn to kidnap steve (technically dustin does, but you don't stop him) who later gives you some terrifying realizations.

Rating: general, swearing and slight violence

Warnings: blood, use of y/n, fem!reader, animal cruelty technically, weapons, cursing

Words: 7.5k

Before you swing in: hello ! late chapter update, but here ya go lovelies !! lots has happened recently, i got a sick ass job and im super excited and :))) so updates will definitely slow down again some more, but i promise i will update whenever possible. for now, please enjoy !

–

“Remember how angry I was at you about hiding El from me last year?”

“Yeah?”

“Visualize the anger, multiply it by ten, and then take three steps back from me.”

Dustin trips over his feet to scramble away from you.

You’re currently in your own room, the door locked, with Dustin standing several feet away now as he heeds your warning. Never in your life have you felt such rage before, such blinding fury, and you thought you knew what anger was when your dad left.

But this? This is a new type of anger, one you know that only the older sister to Dustin Henderson could ever feel.

As soon as Dart had lifted its head up at you and screeched, you’d immediately snatched your brother’s hand into yours and ran out the door, door slamming behind you. Now, you’re hiding out in your room with no fucking clue what to do.

“You killed our cat.”

“Technically Dart did.” You glare at Dustin. You had actually liked Mews, she was the sweetest cat in the world and a gift for your fifth birthday. Your brother, sensing he’s only digging a deeper hole for himself, coughs. “I mean… Yeah. I killed our cat.”

Stepping back, you find your desk chair against your legs and fall into the seat. Exhaustion sweeps over you. There’s no time to grieve the loss of your cat. Not when there’s a baby demogorgon in Dustin’s room eating said cat’s corpse still. “What do we even do in this situation?”

“Not tell mom?” Again, you glare at Dustin and he squeaks in fear. “Well I mean, that’s all I can think of right now!”

A headache forms. “I should’ve gone with Jonathan and Nancy.”

Dustin thinks for a moment. “Where did they go, anyways?”

“No. You don’t get to ask any questions right now.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You sigh, a vague idea forming in your mind. “Okay, first we need get Mews out of the room. She was mom’s favorite child, we can’t just leave her in there to be diminished to bones.”

Dustin nods. “Obviously. We can do that… right?”

“We have to. Once she’s out of there, we just… leave Dart in there. At least for now. It’s already late in the afternoon and we need so much help from the party.”

“We can’t tell the party–”

“You’re right. We can’t,” Dustin sighs with relief, but you give him an evil smile. “But you can tell the party. You’ll radio everyone tomorrow, clean the house, and make a plan from there.”

Dustin tries to argue, but you hold a hand up. “You brought a baby demogorgon into our house. You lost every arguing privilege there is to lose.”

He groans, knowing you’re right. Next time, he’ll be better at hiding things from you because you’re a total buzzkill whenever you inevitably find out.

Together, the two of you hatch a plan. You’ll walk into Dustin’s room first, knives out and ready just in case, and Dustin will follow once the coast is clear. Then, he’ll lure Dart away from Mews’ body with chocolate (you don’t want to ask why), and once he’s gone you’ll snatch your cat’s body and flee the room immediately afterwards.

It’s a good plan.

That is, if it works.

“Ready?” You’re standing in front of Dustin’s door, your knives flicked open in your hand, ready for possible war with a foot long little demon.

Your brother pats your shoulder. “Don’t die, sis.”

“I’m holding knives as we speak. Touch me again and die.”

“I hope Dart eats your face.”

You smile. “There’s my brother. Okay, as soon as I’m inside the room, close the door. Then, when I knock three times, open it again and enter.”

“Wait for two knocks–”

“Three.”

“Three knocks. Right.”

You steady your breathing. Around the corner, you can hear your mom humming to herself as she makes dinner. She has no clue what’s going on, and you envy her for it. Your hand on Dustin’s door knob twists slowly, then, before you can psych yourself out, you turn the knob and throw yourself inside.

Quickly the door slams behind you, so at least Dustin did something right.

Your eyes, which had previously been squeezed shut, open slowly. When you don’t see any sign of Dart, you exhale. So far, so good. You walk towards the couch and find the creature still eating away at your dead cat, which you gag at.

Poor Mews.

You rap your knuckles against the door three times, alerting Dustin to come inside.

He opens the door and walks in, his hands fisted against his face as if that would do anything to keep him safe. You roll your eyes and flick his head, which he whines at. “Grab the chocolate and distract Dart, please.”

Dustin runs over to his desk and grabs a Musketeers bar. When you see the candy’s name, you want to slam your head against the wall. You know exactly why the monster’s name is Dart.

“Let me guess,” you say, your tone mocking. “D’Artagnan?”

“Don’t you have a corpse to collect?”

You scoff at him but step aside so that he can dangle the chocolate in Dart’s face. You watch, alert for any signs of danger in case you need to step in, but the monster seems to be pretty friendly with Dustin. You guess they really did create a bond.

Once Dart is far enough away from Mews, you run over and snatch up her body. You try not to think about the possible cat guts now all over your sweater. That will be a later issue. Like a lot of things in your life recently.

“Go, go, go!” You push Dustin towards the door.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, throwing the last piece of the candy bar at Dart’s face and running out the door right behind you. Once you’re both out the room with the door closed, you both lean against the wall and exhale deeply.

“Good job. Now onto phase two.”

Dustin makes a face. “Why do I have to distract mom?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you hold up Mews’ bloody body. “Do you want to be the one to hold our dead cat?”

“Good point, I’ll go distract mom.” Dustin leaves, rounding the corner to go hopefully distract your poor mother in a sane way. With your luck, Dustin will spew some weird bullshit that will only make her more worried than she already is.

Right on cue, you hear Dustin say from the kitchen. “Mom, I think I broke my arm.”

The scream of fear your mom lets out would’ve been comedic had you not been holding her beloved dead cat.

Your mother runs around the kitchen, fretting over your brother, and the second she isn’t looking, you slip out the front door and quickly throw Mews’ body into your bush. You feel a bit bad about that, but there’s nowhere else to hide her body in broad daylight.

When you walk back inside, Dustin is being swaddled by your mother. “What did I miss?”

“Oh, Y/N!” Your mom sighs. “Dusty said he thought he broke his arm, but the silly boy seems to be okay.”

Dustin pats her back. “Ha, right. Silly me!”

Your mom looks up and then squints a bit, eying your sweater. You look down and your heart drops. It’s covered in Mews’ blood.

Fuck.

“Y/N, what’s that all over your sweater?”

“Paint!” You say while Dustin sputters, “Ketchup!”

“We… Were painting with ketchup.” You lie, sending a quick glare your brother’s way. Out of everything red, why ketchup?

“Oh, alright.” Your mom looks uncertain, but doesn’t say anything else about it. “Well, dinner is almost ready. Why don’t you go wash up, honey?”

The second you’re dismissed, you run into your room and yank the sweater off. You’ll burn it tomorrow. First chance you get.

A few seconds later, there’s a knock on your door before Dustin’s head pokes inside. “Dinner’s done.”

“Great. Holding your dead cat definitely works up an appetite.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Dustin tries to play it off, but you see the genuine upset in his eyes. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, and you know he loved Mews too.

You sigh and walk over to him and kiss his curls. “It’s okay. Next time, let’s not hide a monster from the Upside Down, yeah?”

“Deal.”

–

Dustin spends the night in your room, which you explain to your mom as needing some “serious bonding time”. She tears up at this, unaware of the fact that you’ll be making your brother sleep on the floor as punishment.

The next morning you and Dustin hatch yet another plan: get mom out of the house. Before you two can do anything else, you both agree that your mom cannot be anywhere near Dart. Plus, she’s already noticed Mews’ absence, so it’s only a matter of time before she finds the body in the bush.

“Alright, you’ll fake the phone call while I start gathering the supplies.” You tell Dustin while your mom calls for Mews outside. She’s at the bottom of the driveway, Mews’ favorite toy in her hand, shaking it around, unaware that the cat’s dead body is in the bush next to her.

“Got it. You remember where my old hockey suit is?” You nod at Dustin’s question, and he’s about to say something else before he sees your mom start walking back towards the house. “Shit! Game time, go!”

Dustin fumbles for the phone and you run to the living room closet. Just as you’ve entered your positions, your mom walks through the front door.

“Mewsy! Dusty, Y/N, sweethearts, you’re sure she’s not in your rooms?”

“No, mom.” You shake your head at her.

Holding up a finger, Dustin presses the phone to his ear and motions for the woman to remain quiet. “Uh-huh. Thank you so much, Mr. McCorkle. Thank you so much, you are a true lifesaver.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. He’s laying it on pretty thick.

“Alright, this was great. Thank you, have a good one. Bye-bye now, all right. You too.” Dustin pretends to hang up the phone and smiles at your mom. “Alright, great news!”

“They found her?” Tears of joy lace your mother’s voice. You have to turn away, you know she’d notice the discomfort on your face. It feels horrible to be lying to your mother like this.

Dustin seems to be thinking the same thing, because he lowers his voice and gently approaches her. “No, but they saw her wandering around Loch Nora.”

More tears flow down your mom’s face. “How did the poor baby get all the way over there?”

“I don’t know, lost I guess. But they’re gonna look for her, and–and Y/N and I will stay here, just in case they call again. Right, Y/N?”

“Right!” You call from the closet, now quickly grabbing everything you can think of. Would a hammer be necessary?

“And you’re gonna go help look. Yeah?” Dustin’s only response is a relieved hug from your crying mother. “Yeah, give me a hug. Go get her!”

Your mom quickly composes herself and grabs her glasses. She presses a kiss to your forehead and seems to be in better spirits. “We’ll find her!”

“Mews will be home soon, mom!” You cheer, and your mom blows you another kiss.

“I love you,” Dustin sends her a thumbs up.

“I love you, kids.” And with that, your mom clutches her purse to her chest and sends one final kiss your way before shutting the door behind her.

As soon as the door shuts, you and Dustin scramble. Dustin heads to the backyard to open your cellar doors and you grab the remaining hockey gear from the closet. While you drag the uniform out to the living room, your brother begins to look through the fridge for any possible bait.

“Think Dart would like bologna?” Dustin calls over his shoulder as he digs around.

You groan, dropping the heavy goalie pads. “Last I checked, he wasn’t my secret Upside Down pet.”

“Touche.”

Dustin grabs the bologna and starts making a trail from his room towards the front door. While he does that, you start sorting through your own pile of gear, soccer to be specific. Dustin liked hockey, you preferred warmer sports. As you’ve finished lacing up your cleats and shin pads, Dustin returns.

“Okay, the bait is all set up. Got my hockey stick?”

You hand him what he needs. “Here, and your helmet is on the couch.”

Dustin gets ready and you retrieve some oven mitts from the kitchen. When you hand them to the boy, he looks at you like you’re insane. “What? Extra protection. Can’t hurt.”

He sighs and swipes them from your hand, putting them on. Once he’s ready, you help him stand up. He looks ridiculous in his old hockey gear, but you suppose you don’t look any better with your shin pads and Dustin’s spare shoulder pads.

“Alright. We all set?”

Dustin pats his helmet. “Ready.”

You walk towards his room, and once you’re there, Dustin pushes past you and bends down a bit so he can speak through his keyhole. “Alright, Dart. Breakfast time.”

“Do we have to mention breakfast right before we set him free?" You mumble, but your brother ignores you.

Slowly, he reaches towards the door handle and then flings it open. As soon as the door has been moved, Dustin practically knocks you to the ground in his haste to escape. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

His mantra reminds you of Steve’s from last year at Jonathan’s. Seems like the two boys have something in common: they’re idiots.

You follow quickly behind Dustin, terrified but at least trying to hide it, while your brother just repeats “oh my god”, and “shit” over and over again as he stumbles over the bait and out towards the front door.

If the situation wasn’t so grave, you’d be giggling at how dumb Dustin looks waddling over bologna on the floor. However, Dart could very well be right behind you, so you run after the kid equally as terrified.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit–”

By this point, you’re nearing the tool shed outside.

“I will push you down these stairs Dustin Henderson.”

Dustin shuts up and, as soon as you’re inside the shed as well, locks it behind him. Once he’s sure you’re all cleared, he lets out a breath of relief. “Okay, now we wait.”

You walk towards the wood panels, squinting as you peek through a gap to see outside. “I don’t see anything.”

Dustin does the same. “Come on, I know you’re hungry…”

Everything remains still outside, and you’re starting to worry that maybe Dart doesn’t like bologna after all, until you see his scaly body walk out the door. He gobbles down the bologna pieces one by one, which you cringe at.

“Yeah. He likes bologna, alright.”

Dustin silently cheers. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

Dart makes his way down the trail, eating every piece he finds, and soon he scampers down the steps and hovers over the cellar doors. In an odd way, the little guy is kinda cute if you forget about the fact that he killed your cat.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Dustin continues to chant as you watch Dart. The creature just has one more piece of bologna left, he just needs to take a few more steps inside before you can slam the doors shut.

But, because nothing can ever be easy for you, Dart suddenly turns and looks straight at you and Dustin. “Shit!”

You flinch back, knocking into a bucket of nails that spill everywhere. “Shit again!”

Dustin tries to shush you but you grab him by his shoulders and force him behind you. Your knives are out, their blades gleaming in the sunlight that creeps through the wood panels. You peek through them to find Dart slowly approaching the shed, his mouth almost watering.

“Well, this isn’t good.” You take a breath to lessen your fear. “Stay here, I’ll try to distract him–”

“AHHH!” Dustin shoves you against the opposite wall, your body flinging back with a harsh crash, and breaks through the shed’s door. With one solid wack from his hockey stick, he flings Dart into the cellar.

“What the–Dustin!” By the time you make it out the shed, your brother has flung himself on top of the cellar doors, panting.

“Got him,” he informs you, as if it isn’t obvious enough. Dart begins to screech with anger, and Dustin sighs. “I’m sorry, you ate my cat.”

“You’re an idiot, Dustin.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just give me five seconds to catch my breath, please.”

–

With Dart safely locked away, you and Dustin are able to finally bury your cat.

It doesn’t take long, but the early November heat is just warm enough to make you annoyed as you dig through the soil in your backyard. Dustin has his walkie with him, trying to find the right frequency so he can call the party and inform them of what’s going on.

“Guys, this is Dustin again. Does anyone copy?” You stab at the ground with your shovel and your brother groans when he gets no response. “This is a code red. I repeat, a code red!”

Sweat trickles down your brow and honestly it should be Dustin burying the cat, but you’ve never learned how to radio the party so you just sigh and throw more dirt upon your dead cat. Dustin tries a few more times to contact the party, but no one responds.

“Damn it!” He shouts, frustrated.

“Language,” you huff out, more sweat forming.

It goes on like this for a while, Dustin trying and failing to reach anyone, as you two begin to clean the house of any blood and Mews guts. He tries again while you guys grab the cleaning supplies, then again while you’re on your hands and knees scrubbing his carpet in his room.

“Alright, it’s Dustin again. Seriously, I have a code red.”

“Maybe they don’t know what code red means?” You offer, your nose scrunched up due to the bleach fumes.

Dustin scoffs, “sure, and they also don’t know who Luke Skywalker’s father is–”

Suddenly Erica’s voice comes through the walkie. “Can you please shut up?”

“Erica?” Dustin stops scrubbing and straightens up. “Erica, is Lucas there? Where is he?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Erica has always been such a lovely girl.

“Is he with Mike?”

“Like I said, I don’t know and I don’t care.”

You and Dustin share a look. It worries you that Mike hasn’t been responding all day. From what you’ve heard and seen, he’s spent every day this year camped out in his fort in the basement trying to contact El with the radio frequencies.

It’s not like to Mike to just disappear.

“Listen, Erica.” You speak up, trying to sweet talk to the girl. You’ve babysat her a few times and you’ve even managed to convince her you’re kinda cool, so maybe she’ll respond better to you. “Did Lucas mention anything else? Maybe… Maybe like a girl he went to see?”

Dustin frowns. “A girl? What–” You shush him and wait for a response.

Erica snorts. “A girl? Please, as if. He’s been gone all day. That’s all I can tell you.”

Your brother closes his eyes and sighs. “Please tell him it’s super important. Please tell him that I have a code–”

“Code red?” Erica interrupts.

“Yep, code red. Exactly.” Dustin smiles, then covers his mike to whisper to you, “seems like she likes me more than you–”

“I got a code for you instead. It’s called code shut-your-mouth.” Then, Erica switches off the walkie.

Dustin stares at nothing, dumbfounded. You go back to scrubbing the carpet, a pleased smile on your face. “So, you were saying?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds, processing the fact that clearly no one in the party will answer, before letting out an obnoxious groan. “Damn it!”

“Are you gonna help me clean, or–?”

“Can’t you just call Jonathan?” Dustin asks, grasping at straws. “Maybe he can be useful for once and help.”

You shake your head. “No, he’s out of town right now with Nancy.”

“And you’re okay with this because…?”

“Because,” you roll your eyes, “they’re on a secret mission to take down Hawkin’s Lab. They’re at some detective’s house right now, so I have zero way of contacting them.”

Dustin rubs at his eyes tiredly. “How did we get stuck with a cat eating baby demogorgon while Jonathan and Nancy get cool spy work?”

You pinch his leg, causing him to wince and move away from you. “Because you purposefully hid the baby demogorgon. Any other stupid questions?”

“Sure,” Dustin throws his hands up in defeat, obviously joking when he asks, “got any other friend we could call for help?”

A sarcastic laugh escapes your lips and you’re about to tell him that he has more friends than you’ve ever had, but then a thought occurs to you.

Steve.

Technically speaking, you’re friends. Well, sort of. Sure, he had wanted space yesterday in the lunchroom, and yeah he’s still mad at you and things are awkward at best between the two of you, but still…

He’d been at Jonathan’s house last year, he had fought by your side and saved your life and even bought you a vending machine full of snacks. If anyone else could understand the situation you’re in right now, it’s Steve.

You hesitate though. He still seemed really hurt at lunch, but you also saw the way he lingered even after dismissing himself. He doesn’t hate you, at least not really, and without Jonathan or Nancy to call, he’s the only person you have left right now.

It can’t hurt to try, at least.

“Actually, yeah.” You respond after a minute or so. “Be right back.”

Dustin asks questions as you head towards the living room, but you don’t respond. If Steve doesn’t answer, then you can make up some lie about the phone being broken or something to save yourself the embarrassment.

Your fingers press Steve’s long remembered number. He had given it to you his first week of visiting you at Bookstrordinary, assuring you that you could call him whenever. After a while, you took his word on it and started calling the boy every time you were bored and alone at work.

The line rings for a few seconds, and you bite your lip in anticipation.

This is a horrible idea, and yet your heart flutters when Steve answers with a groggy, “hello?”

“Hey, Steve.”

“Y/N?” He sounds surprised.

You can’t blame him, he did quite literally yesterday tell you he’s still upset with you and that he needs space. And yet here you are: calling him early on a Saturday afternoon. “Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I really need your help–”

A sigh. “Normally I’d love to, but I’m kinda in the middle of getting ready to go to Nancy’s.”

“Nancy’s? Steve, she’s not even home–”

“Can we talk later? I… I’d really like to talk, if that’s alright with you.”

This throws you, and for a second you forget about the reason you called. “Of course we can talk, Steve.”

“Great,” you can hear a smile in his voice, which warms you. “I’ll see you later, then.”

Then you remember Dart and the blood on Dustin’s carpet and you frantically try to stop Steve from hanging up. “Wait, no! Steve, Nancy isn’t home and I really need you to–”

The line goes dead, and you slam the phone down. “Damn it!”

Dustin, hearing the commotion, wanders into the kitchen. “Take it the call didn’t go well?”

“No, it did.” Sure, Steve didn’t necessarily offer his help, but he did tell you where he’s going to be in about twenty minutes. You’ll ambush him there and demand he listen to you and help. As a bonding exercise, of course. “We’re going to the Wheeler’s.”

“Why?”

“Steve’s heading there.”

Dustin trips over his shoelaces. “Steve Harrington?”

“Long story,” you sigh, dreading that you’ll have to explain all of this eventually. “C’mon, let's get our bikes.”

–

You and Dustin get to the Wheeler’s before Steve does, which makes no sense to you but whatever. He’ll be here soon enough and you’ll ambush him with all your charm and maybe a bit of groveling. You’re not beneath it, if you’re being honest.

Dustin goes up to the front door while you stay behind, keeping an eye out for Steve. Ted opens the front door and while you can’t hear what he says to Dustin, you know he’s unamused by his presence. The father has never been your favorite parent within the group, honestly.

You watch as they exchange a few more words before you see Dustin sigh and angrily march back towards you. Then, right as he’s grabbed his bike, a familiar red BMW pulls up. Just seeing his car makes your heart skip a beat.

The car parks and a frazzled Steve steps out, carrying flowers and mumbling to himself. You aren’t able to hear everything he’s saying, but you can hear the words “what the hell am I sorry for?” and your stomach twists.

So clearly he’s not in a good mood. Still.

The flowers, which you now can see are roses, hang by Steve’s side as he fixes his hair. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and it takes everything within you to pull your eyes away. He looks good today, too good.

There’s a monster currently locked in your cellar.

“Steve!” You rush over to his side.

He does a double take when he sees you. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Well–”

“Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?” Dustin now joins you two, pointing at the roses in the boy’s hand.

Steve looks between the two of you. “No…? You’re Dustin, right? Y/N’s brother?”

Dustin snatches the roses out of his hand. “Good, and yeah, I am.”

“Hey, what the hell?” Steve looks at you for help, but you know there’s no use trying to reason with your brother. He’s in a mood, similar to Steve, and you just sigh and follow Dustin. “Hey!”

“Nancy isn’t home.” Your brother informs Steve.

“Where is she?” Steve asks, and you hit his shoulder.

“I tried telling you over the phone!”

Dustin claps his hands at you to get your guys’ attention again. “It doesn’t matter where she is or if you tried to warn him, Y/N. We have bigger problems than your love lives.”

He’s at Steve’s car now and opens the passenger side door. “Do you still have that bat?”

Steve whips his head towards you. “Bat? What the hell is he talking about? Y/N, what are you guys doing here–”

“The one with the nails!” Dustin interrupts, exasperated.

Again Steve looks at you. “Why?”

“You’re not gonna like it,” you confess, and this only makes Steve feel worse.

“We’ll explain it on the way.” Dustin goes to sit in the passenger seat but he’s quickly stopped when you grab his hood and yank him out.

“No, absolutely not. I deserve the passenger seat, not you.”

Dustin slaps you away. “I got here first.”

“I was born first–”

“But I was literally about to sit down–”

“Hey!” Steve shouts, effectively shutting you and Dustin up. “It’s my car, and right now I currently only like Y/N, so she gets the passenger seat.”

“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.”

“Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.”

He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”

He says it with annoyance in his voice, but you can see the smile he’s trying hard not to let slip, and you feel giddy. Steve obviously can’t be too mad at you if he wanted to talk later and is willingly letting himself be kidnapped by your brother.

Dustin, on the other hand, can’t believe any of this is happening. As soon as you’re all in the car he asks, “Since when did you two become friends?”

“I have a life outside of you and the boys, you know,” you tell him, but you avoid Steve’s gaze. It’s not like you intentionally hid this aspect of your life from Dustin, but… It also never came up, either.

“Sure ya do, but… Wait,” Dustin remembers something. “Oh my god, you have Steve Harrington’s number memorized?”

Your face heats up and Steve hides a smirk, but you see it anyway. You ignore his smugness and respond to your brother. “Like I said, I have a life outside of you.”

Dustin gapes at you. “I have so many questions–”

“I have an even better one: where am I taking you guys?” Steve asks, and suddenly you remember everything at stake.

“My house,” you tell him as you buckle up. He nods, although with some confusion, and then starts the engine. “You know how I called you earlier?”

“Yeah…?”

“Dustin, why don’t you tell Steve here what you found.”

Your brother sighs from the backseat. “A few days ago I found this… lizard of sorts.”

“A lizard.” Steve says, unimpressed.

“Oh, just wait,” you quip.

Dustin turns his head to glare at you and you give him a thumbs up. He scoffs at you before carrying on, “Yes, a lizard. I named him Dart and he was super cool, okay? I thought I had discovered a new species and that I would be super famous and better than everyone else.”

Steve glances at you next to him, raising his eyebrows and whistling low. “Wow, does humbleness run in your family, Y/N?”

“I’d say so, yeah.”

“Anyways,” Dustin interrupts, ignoring Steve’s laugh at your response. “Turns out, Dart is from the Upside Down.”

“The Upside Down?” Steve asks, extremely confused. He looks at you again in the mirror and it hits you that no one explained to him the events from last year. You assumed that Nancy would’ve, seeing as how they’ve been together for a while now and Steve had been with you guys at the hospital the night you brought Will back.

However, from his disbelief and confusion it’s clear that she hasn’t. If you had to guess, Steve probably went home that night and blocked out everything that had gone down with no questions asked.

You respect his repressing skills, honestly.

Dustin groans, beginning to grow impatient with Steve. “Yes, the Upside Down. If you have the bat still, how could you not know–”

“Do you remember that… thing we killed at Jonathan’s last year?” You cut your brother off before he can get too mean. You love the kid, you do, but he isn’t the kindest person when others aren't understanding him.

A dark look passes over Steve’s face and his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. It’s night now, and the atmosphere in the car becomes tense. “I remember.”

You clear your throat, “Well, this creature–”

“Demodog.” Dustin corrects from the backseat.

“Demodog?” You turn in your seat to face him. “That’s what we’re calling it now? Seriously?”

He shrugs. “It’s a baby demogorgon, it looks like a dog, so… Demodog.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Alright. Okay. Whatever, this demodog is from the Upside Down. It’s this parallel universe, basically. Creepy shit happens there, and last year a monster–”

“The Demogorgon.” Dustin once more interrupts.

“Dustin, if you want to catch Steve up then for the love of god, please shut up.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed.

A smile tugs at Steve’s lips and you take a deep breath to calm yourself before continuing. “Look, I don’t know how much Nancy told you about that night at Jonathan’s, but all that you need to know is that the Demogorgon took Will last year and we had to fight it in order to save him.”

Steve nods slightly as he follows along, “Nancy mentioned something about a monster at the hospital… she told me it’s what killed Barb, but never told me it had a name.”

Another silence falls between you guys in the car. The mention of Barb brings back bad memories for you both. You had liked Barb, she had always been nice to you, you guess. Hawkins is a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and in the end the smallness of the town is what makes the Upside Down so hard. You lose people close to you, one way or another.

And as for Steve… The roses he bought for Nancy lay wilted in his backseat.

Dustin shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and your heart pangs in understanding. He misses El, and you do too. The closer it gets to the anniversary of her disappearance, the more you miss the sweet and caring girl; but you know that the boys, Mike especially, haven’t given up hope for her.

“So…” Steve motions for you guys to continue explaining, and Dustin sits up in his seat to begin again.

“So flash forward to now: I didn’t realize Dart was a demodog until he grew like three damn sizes bigger than when I found him. Y/N and I almost died trying to lock him in our cellar.”

“Wait, you guys have a cellar?”

Dustin rubs his face, “That’s what you focus on, Steve?”

“It’s a valid question–”

“Guys!” You lurch yourself forward and wave your hands around wildly to break up their bickering. “We really don’t have time for this. Can we please just focus on the task at hand? Dart has probably grown even more during the course of this stupid conversation.”

Your brother’s hand pushes your shoulder back so that you’re now once again sitting, and you swat him away with annoyance. “Y/N, I’m trying! Blame Steve, he’s the one asking stupid questions–”

Steve speaks up, “What the hell? They aren’t stupid questions–”

“Well…”

Steve shoots you an offended look, “Y/N, I thought you were on my side.”

Dustin scoffs, hurt. “She’s my sister, you idiot!”

“Again, we seriously don’t have time for this because, once more: Dart is getting really big.” Your voice is louder this time, and thankfully it shuts everyone up. Then, just because you can, you add, “and I’m on Steve’s side right now. He’s the one with the car, plus… Well, I owe him.”

Steve fist pumps the air. “Suck it, little Henderson.”

“Do not call me that,” Dustin threatens him, then turns his attention to you. “First Jonathan, now Steve? Can’t you befriend anyone I like?”

The mention of Jonathan gets Steve attention. “Wait a sec, where is the guy? You never actually told me where he and Nancy went, Y/N.”

You sigh, knowing there’s no use keeping anything else from him. He’s already driving you and Dustin home to help with Dart, and you did promise to tell him where they were later, but life seemingly got in the way. “They’re playing detective right now.”

“Detective?”

“Yeah, the guy Barb’s parents hired… They’re currently at his place, exposing Hawkin’s Lab.”

A tense silence follows. Steve stares straight ahead, eyes on the road, as his expressions morph from hurt, to reluctance, to eventual acceptance. “Nance didn’t think to ask me to join?”

His voice wavers, just a bit, but you hear it. Knowing that Dustin is watching from the back, you decide to forget any possible boundaries for once and grab Steve’s hand. He’s hurting. The car smells of roses and there’s no girl to give them to. “She tried, Steve.”

He swallows. There’s hurt in his eyes and you want to reach out and stroke his cheek and tell him that it isn’t his fault. “I know…”

“Ahem,” Dustin coughs, clearly uncomfortable with whatever is going on. “So… Back to Dart.”

You clear your own throat, but your hand remains wrapped around Steve’s, who nods. “Wait a sec, how big are we talking?”

Without meaning to, you close your eyes and brace for Dustin’s witty remarks, but he surprises you by answering with a demonstration and zero mockery. “First it was like that,” he opens his fingers a few inches before using both hands to show about a foot in length. “Now he’s like this.”

Steve still looks doubtful. “And you’re sure it isn’t some weird lizard?”

A headache begins to form and you pinch the bridge of your nose again. “It’s not a lizard, Steve.”

“Well how do you know?”

“Because his face opened up and he ate our cat.” Dustin says bluntly.

This seems to shut Steve up and he nods his head in defeat. It’s silent in the car for the remainder of the drive, and just before Steve parks in your driveway, he looks over at you and sees your eyes closed in pain, and before he knows it he squeezes your hand and says, “sorry about your cat, by the way.”

Despite the pounding in your head and your utter exhaustion, his words make you laugh. “Just park, Steve.”

He smiles, feeling proud for getting you to laugh, and does as he’s told. Before you know it you’re standing at his trunk, staring at the baseball bat that saved your life last year. Dustin has already gone over to the cellar, waiting for you and Steve to follow.

The bat stares back at you, and you shiver as the memories come back. Though you had tried your best to forget that night, that entire week, honestly, it’s been useless. The nightmares still haunt you. You obsessively research trauma in children now to compensate for your own guilt from last year.

“Why’d you keep the bat?” You ask as Steve grabs it, giving it a practice swing. Your own blades are out again and he eyes their gleam.

“It’s kinda sick, don’t ya think?” He swings it again. “I look badass with it.”

He’s dodging, but you sense that he kept the bat for the same reason as why you kept the switchblade. You’ve been waiting in fear for something else to happen. “You don’t look too bad with it.”

Steve blushes a bit, which your stomach flutters seeing. “I, uh… Guess we can’t have that talk tonight?”

“No, not unless we somehow manage to deal with Dart in a timely manner. However, if I recall, nothing ever goes our way.”

“Nope!” He closes the trunk and tosses you a flashlight. Then, he sticks his hand out for you to shake. “But for now… Truce?”

You giggle. “Truce.”

His hand is warm, and even though you had just been holding it in the car moments earlier, his touch still fills you with a gooey warmth that you’ve come to associate with him. As soon as you and him are alone, away from Dustin’s nosy ears, you’ll really apologize to Steve. He may be being nice to you now, but he’s still guarding himself from you.

You hate it. You miss how open he used to be with you.

“Ready to go re-live my nightmares?” Steve asks.

You give him a thumbs up as you start heading towards Dustin. “Always, let’s go.”

“Took you guys long enough.” Your brother mutters when you and Steve arrive at the cellar, weapons in hand. You flash him an apologetic smile while Steve simply ignores him.

Steve approaches the door and listens for a second, “I don’t hear shit.”

You frown and listen as well. He’s right, it’s eerily silent. You shoot Dustin a questioning look and he shrugs as well, “He’s in there.”

“Duh, I know that much, You almost knocked me out when you shoved past me to get Dart in there.” you remark, before softly adding “he’s gotta be in there.”

Your words don’t reassure Steve, who begins to use the tip of his bat to bang against the locked doors. When nothing happens, he bangs harder against them before sighing in annoyance.

“All right, listen kid.” Steve begins, and you start to rub small circles into your scalp in a vain attempt to lessen your headache, because you already know that the next words out of his mouth will start yet another fight. “I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you’re dead.”

“Steve…” He ignores you and stares down your brother, shining the flashlight directly at his face in what you assume is meant to be a threatening manner.

“It's not a prank,” Dustin tiredly replies, squinting his eyes against the light. “Get it out of my face.”

Steve complies, still hesitant about the situation at hand, and turns to face you. “You got a key to this thing?”

You nod and fish the keys from out of your pocket and unlock the cellar doors. Steve bends down to investigate, and without him having to ask, you hand him the flashlight and step forward so that you’re next to him.

He flashes the light down the stairs and all that the three of you can see is darkness. An uneasy feeling creeps over you. Something isn’t right, but you really hope that you’re wrong.

“He has to be further down,” you say, more so to reassure yourself than the others.

Dustin shuffles his feet next to you and says, with an extremely unconvincingly “brave” voice, “I’ll stay up here in case he tries to… escape.”

Both you and Steve look at him in disbelief. Dustin stands his ground, however, and looks at the two of you expectantly. Steve shakes his head while you sigh in defeat. Your brother is such a pain sometimes.

“You do realize that if Dart eats me, you’ll have to deal with mom all by yourself, right?” You ask him.

The boy shrugs at you. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take, Y/N.”

“Yeah, love you too.” You mumble, before you begin to follow Steve down the steps.

“I’ll be thinking of you!” Dustin calls out, his voice echoing against the cellar walls.

You trail behind Steve, and the flashlight he brought does nothing to illuminate the dark area, so it’s a relief when he reaches above his head to turn the light on. As your eyes adjust to the light change, you scan the room to find the missing demodog. However, all your eyes land on is a long, thin sheet of film on the ground that you can only assume is molted skin.

“Oh, shit…” you breathe out. “This isn’t good.”

Steve picks the skin up with the tip of his bat and examines it and shakes his head. “Please tell me this isn’t Dart.”

“Actually, it’d be easier if it was him.”

Steve doesn’t laugh at your joke; he continues to look around the room before his eyes widen. You turn your head to see what’s caught his attention, and when you spot the problem, your knees weaken.

There’s a giant, Dart-sized hole in your cellar wall.

“Steve? Y/N? What’s going on down there?” Dustin’s voice carries down to you guys, and you and Steve share a nervous glance.

“Dustin…” You call up to him, your voice weaker than you’d prefer. You wish you could be braver for him at the moment, but right now it takes everything within you not to crawl into bed and shut the world out. Why did it always have to be giant monsters?

While you’re reeling, Steve walks over to the bottom of the steps and flashes his light at Dustin, instructing him to come down. Once the boy has joined you guys, Steve guides the light to his bat so that Dustin can see the skin.

“Oh, shit.”

“Funnily enough, that’s what your sister said, too.”

Then Steve shines the light to where the hole in the wall is, and you watch Dustin’s face go from concerned to horrified. “Oh, shit!”

The three of you crouch closer to the hole, and when Steve shines the flashlight through it, your heart stops and you gasp, “It’s a tunnel.”

“No way…” Dustin says in awe.

It’s hard to see exactly how deep the tunnel goes, but something tells you that there’s more to it than meets the eye. This wouldn’t be some simple fix like you had desperately hoped it would be.

Now you really, really wish Jonathan were here. And Nancy. Definitely Nancy.

But they aren’t. This time, you’re on your own with only Steve and Dustin by your side. No one else in the party is available, you don’t even know where they are or if they’re even safe, but right now that doesn’t matter.

What matters is that Dart has escaped.

And it’s happening again.

Everything you’ve tried so hard for the last year to ignore, to move on and pretend never happened to you, has come crashing back into your life.

Steve, seeing your apprehension, grabs your hand and pulls you in close. “Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’ll be here, okay?”

Even though you don’t deserve his kindness, his sincerity, you believe him.

-

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[peace-for-levi]

{when you need me...}

who would i be if i didn't project my mental health onto 2D characters/reader and not write about it? i see so many fics of reader being worried for nanami while he's out in shibuya and… we all know what happens there.

content warning: detailed descriptions of anxiety, reader refers to themselves as 'wife' (reader thinks they are a bad wife) and the use of 'she'. it's otherwise in the 2nd person perspective. negative self-talk/beliefs. use of pet names. nanami being the bestest husband. i miiiiight have made him OOC and overindulged on how soft i made him BUT ITS OK YOU GOTTA BE A DELULU IN THIS ECONOMY.

+18 discord server

No, you were not going to call him. Absolutely not! Or text him either, for that matter.

The anxiety had been bubbling away all day inside your head like billowing storm clouds. You were grateful work kept you occupied, but once you arrived home, you trudged to your bedroom. You didn't even change out of your work attire.

You knew the source of all this, too.

Nanami came home injured while you were out dealing with another curse of your own. Thankfully, he had dealt with the bleeding himself and got checked out by Shoko. But to see him come so depleted of energy – dark shadows hanging under his eyes like bats, shoulders heavy – left you extremely unsettled. You were already an anxious mess, and now there are talks of a special-grade 'patchwork' curse. Not to mention the two unregistered cursed spirits that Gojo encountered.

What was going on in the world?

Now, he had been called out to the school again. After being badly injured, no less!

What if he was asked to fight the patch-work curse again? Was that curse able to perform Domain Expansions? Your husband never reached that height of jujutsu…

Would he… make it home okay?

You worked a "normal" job, not being employed at as a teacher at the highschool. As a grade one sorcerer, though, you were sometimes called in on particularly difficult and awkward missions. Your figured your problems with anxiety in the past would slowly fizzle away if you quit working at that highschool; after all, they couldn't make you exorcise and hunt down curses as often if you didn't work there. In your naivety, you assumed that'd be the end to your worries. But they only persisted and got worse the longer your husband of four years continued to work there as a teacher.

You couldn't resent him for it, and you knew he found greater fulfillment in being a teacher than adhereing to the laborious life of a salaryman.

But, maybe… your selfish thoughts got the better of you when you wished he could work a more "normal" job like you… If he worked a job where his safety was guaranteed…

How could you say such a thing? What kind of wife says that?!

Your hand collides against your forehead, releasing a (poorly contained) groan. Your teeth continued to chatter.

Now, I'm a bad wife on top of everything else…

Gruesome images flood your mind's eye. It's obsessive, relentless. After all, you have to prepare for the worst to come, right…? That's what you always do.

If you were by his side, would that make you feel any more relieved? Just by seeing him? But like a jolt, any solution you try come up with is met with more disturbing imagery. It was so vivid, it is as if you were there.

All that gore and worry conjured up in your cursed, anxious little head. The redness – so much red – of your imagery. It seeps and spreads along the ground at a terrifying rate, the image of someone – Kento – bleeding out. No one is there to help him.

You are.

You aren't gifted like Shoko, though.

There is no amount of horror – be it from forms of media or the wicked imagination – that can prepare a person for seeing the life ebb from another; the hopelessness, the tearing at the soul that is the departing of the other. As your loved one leaves this earth.

You're anxious, you're spiralling… You just wanted him to be okay. You wanted him to confirm with you he was okay. But you disturb him enough already with your texts and calls during missions.

Of course, in reality, if you hailed for Kento, he'd drop everything to be with you. He always has.

You didn't realize your thumb was hovering above the 'send' button. Through bleary eyes, you can see a hastily constructed text. Loaded with typos and errors. You're hardly able to read it though. Thumbs fidgting, you toss the phone.

You knew, logically, that he would want to help. He always has helped. But god, maybe you wanted to be big girl for once and try deal with it without him? Maybe be a good wife who doesn't send him a barage of texts when she's anxious?

Anxiety is the leak in your boat. You have to find a way to patch that hole or you'll drown.

But how can you when your worries revolve around your husband's safety?

You try cling to the logic that he has never refused you, made you feel stupid or invalidated you. Ever. But why would you cling to logic when the voice of your anxiety echoes through megaphone at you.

Of course, you're a distraction. Of course, you're a nuisance.

You hadn't even done a single chore to help around the house today. Some wife you were…

Kento would tell you that these thoughts you have are ridiculous. But you couldn't help it. You felt like you were holding him back from everything he deserved – you were so blessed to have a husband like him. You counted your lucky stars to be with him, but you ultimately felt like you didn't deserve him.

But Kento wasn't here now. So all you had was your mind to bully you.

The thoughts come as an electrical storm in your brain that, quite honestly, are painful. It's different from a headache and it feels the same as intense sorrow. It's uneven breaths as you claw at your chest, and it feels like you're suffocating; all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. It's sobbing to the point of staining your shirt. The intense images come at you with cursed intent. Like being hooked up to a cattle fence - not enough voltage to kill but sufficient to keep things uncomfortable, paralysed with fear and unmoving. And you couldn't, for the life of you, talk yourself out of the spiral.

It wasn't as if you didn't want Kento to be there. You were just denying yourself of his presence. You thought you were being brave, you thought—

Ping!

You lower your hands from your eyes. You gaze at the phone, blinking owlishy, before picking it up.

You let out a groan. In anxiously twiddling your thumbs by your screen, you had sent the (questionable-looking) text.

You don't even have time to berate yourself, for your ringtone begins to chime.

"[F/n], honey. I don't quite understand your text," he greets. He goes back to doing what he was doing – it sounded like he was tidying something away. "Principal Yaga has us staying behind at the school to–"

He stops.

He immediately stops upon hearing you whimper over the phone.

"Sweetheart?"

You mumble, "I-I– Um, N-Nanami, I–"

What if he loses his patience today? Will this be the straw that breaks the camel's back?

You can hear him shuffling over the phone. "Talk to me, what is it? Are you hurt?"

You don't want him to leave work on your account. Damn, your thumbs! If only it stayed as an unsent draft.

You panicked. "I-I'm fine! I think I just–"

You hear him sigh. "You're a terrible liar… You're not fine." A pause. "I'm coming home."

"No, Kento, please–!"

The call ends there. Your fingers seize up and your phone falls to the bed. Your wrists bash off your head, hitting yourself. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Ping!

Be safe. I'll be there in fifteen.

Your heart sinks, especially knowing that he'd probably break several road safety laws to get back to you as soon as possible.

Another notification arrives swiftly after that.

I love you. You'll be fine.

The fifteen minutes drag by so slowly. You're still rooted at the side of your bed. Not having changed, started laundry, started making dinner. You shake your head. It's frightful how automatically you chastise yourself for anything and everything. Once you hear the click of the door, you shudder and cower, waiting for him to come into your shared bedroom to berate you.

Your eyes are clamped shut still, even when you feel his calloused thumb rub at your knee.

"Oh, sweetheart…" he says, and when he speaks it's so soft. Soft like he'd holding fine china.

He's careful to not press your boundaries too much, not wanting to hold you tighter. But he doesn't sense any resistance right now. You let him hold you.

He holds you like you are the most precious and loveliest thing in his world.

(You are.)

As if you weren't crying enough already, his touch makes you crumble more.

"What has you so anxious, [F/n]?" he asks, rubbing your arms up and down. He pulls away briefly to ask, "May I sit?"

You nod and he sets himself down. You overwhelmed by his love. You always have been. He always spoils you with his soft, passionate touch and his gentle words. You sniffle and it takes every ounce of self control to not explode into a heaving, babbling mess (more than what you currently were.) You continue to sob into his arms.

"Shhh, shhh. You're alright, you're going to be just fine, sweetheart. But in order to be okay, you're going to have to stop holding your breath like that."

You hadn't even realized. You always had been an open book to him.

Breathe, breathe, breathe…

Your thoughts were so out of control, you were in a terrible cycle of either hyperventilating, or holding your breath. You shake your head, trying to break free. He doesn't let go entirely, but he loosens his grip. His hands hold yours, breathing deeply, as if trying to do it for you. You continue to resist, fighting his hold more as you take agonizing breaths.

"Let me hold you. Let me make things better. Let me stay."

You sob harder, knowing that once again he'll be picking up the pieces. Your pieces.

"What has you so worked up?" he asks, in between practiced, deep breaths.

Before you even have a chance to say anything, he whispers softly against your temple, "I love you. So, please, let me in."

And you let everything out.

He holds you close again once each and every worry comes out. He rocks you slowly back and forth, he plants the odd kiss to your dewy temple. He listens to you intently, taking in everything you say and more. He has heard these worries countless times before, and he listens to them as if these are being revealed to him for the first time. He gently 'shhhh's against your brow when you start to hiccup and unravel more.

As your husband, he wants to be able to promise you his safert; he wants to promise he'll come home in one piece.

But he can't do that. Because he doesn't know how any of this will play out.

So he hugs you, impossibly tighter.

"What can I do to help? Tell me what I can do to make it all okay…"

You want to be a good wife; you don't share the selfish thoughts you have, of wanting him to work at a normal job again. Even when he hated it, even when it left him feeling so drained.

So you say nothing and you let your little lie spread its wings.

You calm down in his arms, holding you until your limbs feel heavy. He continues to soothe you as best as possible. His voice was so achingly gentle, rubbing circles into your hips. It has your heart shattering into pieces.

Mindlessly, you mumble under your breath. "I just want you to be okay…" you admit.

He averts his gaze helplessly, because knows he can't promise you that. He relaxes and lays down on the bed, taking you with him. You undo the top button of his shirt.

He smiles sadly. It's the one thing he can't promise.

And though he'll never let you know, he feels like he fails in this duties as a husband.

But sometimes, he knows he's at least doing something right when he helps calm you down from such a state that you end up dozing off in his arms. He holds you til his arms limp and heavy.

In this blood-stained, fleeting life, he'll walk with you to the ends of this earth.

Even if he must depart early.

taglist: @levi-my-beloved @licuadora-nasir @nelapanela94 @whattheheckmidoriya @poisonpeche @unadulteratedtreecrusade @notgoodforlife @sckerman @theferricfox @happybird16 @jayteacups and idk who else

[mewintheflesh-2]

Without You

Rating: Teen and Up audiences

Archive warnings: None

Characters: Francis Mosses, Original Characters

Tags: Unrequited Love, heartbreak, Song: Without You (Strawberry Guy), Crushes, Unrequited Crushes, Francis Mosses has sensory issues (briefly mentioned), minor blood and injury, Francis deals with the qualms of being a retail worker (kinda), men crying, emotional hurt, hurt/no comfort, not beta read, Reader is gender neutral.

Word count: 1,800 (rounded down)

Summary: Francis wasnt having a good time.

And you're not about to make it any better

Also posted on Ao3

Francis sighed solomly as he gripped the now empty milk carrier. Hard enough to leave imprints on his hand and whiten his knuckles.

His black leather shoes clicked and clacked against the cold, concrete sidewalk. The sunset painting everything around him in a golden light. It'd be nighttime soon.

He lifted his free hand to his head and clutched his sweaty hair from underneath his hat. He was so tired. He just wanted to get home and sleep.

But he mostly just wanted to talk to you.

Even if you only really talked through that thick, protective window, youd been making more and more conversation with eachother each time you spoke, getting to know eachother more and more each day.

It wasnt long before Francis' lovesick brain fell head over heels.

It was everything about you. The way you looked, with a smile rivaling the warmth of the sun, and just as dangerous to his heart and mind. You always seemed to know exactly what to say to him to pull at his heart like a puppet on a string.

If he didnt know any better, hed say you were doing it on purpose.

He wouldnt mind either way.

Francis slugged up to the reception window, a weight lifted off of him at the sight of you at your desk.

He pushed his ID and Entry Request inside the letterbox for you to receive, planting his hands on the metal shelf jutting out of the wall just below the window; watching you expectantly with a simultaneous aching and soothing feeling in his heart.

After a minute of shuffling papers and opening folders, you look up at him.

"Hello, Francie." You smiled warmly at him.

There it was.

That nickname.

God how it made his heart swell. 

'Francie.'

Such a cute nickname

and it was just for him, gifted from you.

"How's your day been?" You tilted your head slightly at him, setting down and organizing his identification and sliding his profile back into the appropriate folder.

Francis looked at you for a second before frowning. "Not great." He sighed as he shook his head softly, looking down at his shoes.

Your eyebrows knit together in concern, a frown adorning your lips.

"I'm sorry, Francie. What happened, if you dont mind me asking?" Your voice was so warm and soft as you leaned in closer to the window.

It made Francis' heart flutter for a second before he had to think back to all that had happened earlier.

"It's just a lot of little things building up. I'm probably more upset about it than I should be." Francis looked down at his hands, and then up to you.

The expression on his face was just killing your heart. 

"Im all ears." You speak softly as you push your chair in closer to your desk, and by extension, the window.

"If theres anything you need to say, then say it. Its always nice to get things off your chest, dont you think?" You smile softly at him, pushing your chair closer to your desk, and closer to the window by extension.

"Are you sure?" Francis looked around, almost worried. Surely he'd be taking up your time on your job if he did that, right?

"I have all the time in the world-- and I'd rather be talking to you than anything else right now." You assured, that deadly warm smile on your lips again.

The words made Francis feel warm and soft.

A small smile appeared on his face for a brief, fleeting moment. 

 Francis stared at you for a moment, as if asking for approval to speak.

You nod.

He sighed, looking down at the metal shelf infront of him as his ungloves hands tapped at it, wondering where to begin.

"Its just- work has been just awful today.  Someone had left their dog outside, as soon as it saw me it wouldn't stop chasing me, i tried to run away, but it eventually caught up to me and bit my leg.

It wouldnt let go until I had to pry it off of me. And even then it didn't leave me alone for awhile. Not until it's owners came back to take it off of me." 

You frowned, trying to open your mouth to speak, but Francis kept talking.

"And because of that dog, i dropped and broke multiple milk bottles on the sidewalk. So after the dog got taken off of me, i tried picking up the glass since I didn't want anybody accidentally stepping on it because of me, but the shards cut me. Badly. Even through my gloves."

He held his hand up to the window for you to see. There were bloodied bandages wrapped around his hand, and several smaller cuts on his bare fingers. 

You cringe at the sight.

"I had to take them off to clean the wounds, and everything has just been sensory hell ever since." Francis' face draws to a grimace.

"And to make things worse, I had to deal with people yelling at me for being incompetent for losing their deliveries."

He clenched his jaw, his expression doesn't look anything but sad.

"Even though it wasn't even my fault. I'm not the one who left their dog outside. And just to top it off, I've had a horrible migrane all day, and It's just-" He inhales and groans,  collapsing onto the metal shelf infront of him.

"I just want to take a break. I just want to rest."

He mumbles as he tucks his face into his folded arms.

Silence, for a moment.

"Francie........... That's awful-- I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?" You frown sympathetically as you push you chair forward even more, squishing yourself against your desk and placing a hand on the window infront of you.

Francis lifted his head to look up at your hand, and then at you.

"I think talking to you and going to sleep is  enough for me to feel better." Francis smiled briefly before registering what he'd said, casting his gaze anywhere but you after he realized what he'd spoken.

You laugh softly. "If you say so."

Silence for a bit, as Francis regains his composure.

He lifts himself up, slowly propping himself on his elbows on the shelf, leaning his head on his knuckles, huffing out a breath of air.

"...How was your day?" He asks after a beat, head tilted curiously.

You smile, retracting your hand from the window. "My days been pretty slow, but im meeting someone later, so im pretty excited for that."

Meeting someone?

...

Francis blinked for a second. His expression faltering to a look of sadness for just a moment.

No. Surely you didnt mean it like that.

"Meeting someone...?" He echoed.

"Mhm." You smiled softly at the thought. "We met just a few days ago. He seems pretty nice, I'm excited to get to know him more." You lean your head on your hand, mirroring the man behind the glass.

"A-ah.......... Congratulations." Francis did his best to refrain from letting any indication of his emotions fall upon his face as he straightened himself out; but he couldn't help but frown. 

"Francie? Are you alright?" You tilted your head the slightest bit, voice a catalyst of concern for the man standing on the other side of the thick, protective glass. 

"Mhm. I just remembered something. Apologies." He held the brim of his cap between his pointer and thumb, pulling it down over his eyes the slightest bit to avoid looking at you. But he really couldn't help himself.

"Oh, alright. Is there, uh, anything I can help you with?" Your voice was calm and careful in a way that just broke poor Francies heart even more. "About what you remembered- I mean." 

"No, no. It's fine. Thanks for the offer." He shook his head softly, forcing a small smile as he looked down at the shelf infront of him.

"Of course, Francie." Your eyebrows knit together in concern. "Just let me know if there's anything I can do for you. You can tell me anything." 

"Mhm. Thank you." Francis took a quick glance at the door, before looking back in your direction-- though nowhere near directly at you. You put together he was probably signaling to you that he wanted to leave now.

"I'll see you tommorow?" Your voice was soft, sweet, a delicacy and a curse to Francis' ears.

There was a light buzzing noise as you pressed the button to unlock the main entrance. 

"Mhm. Goodbye." He waved at you softly, only actually looking into your eyes for a brief, fleeting moment before walking away. 

"Goodbye........." You spoke quietly, a soft pit in your stomach as you watched Francis dissappear through the doors.

You were so caught off guard by his sudden change in behavior you nearly forgot to lock the door again.

He usually liked to stay for as long as he could.

Was it something you said?

You frowned, leaning back in your chair and fidgeting with some papers.

You'd have to ask him about it tomorrow.

Again began the waiting for your neighbors to return to their apartments.

Francis opened his apartment door with shaking hands, keys jingling as they were set on his kitchen counter.

With a heavy sigh, he flicked on his lamp, enveloping the room in a warm yellow glow, trying to keep his composure.

Slowly but surely he kicked off his shoes, grabbing and throwing his hat onto his dresser.

Just as he was about to unbutton his uniform he was hit with a sudden disgusting, sickening feeling in his chest as tears welled up in his eyes.

He shook his head, eyes squinting involuntary as he let himself fall onto his bed.

He lied there, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore anything he was feeling.

But no matter how many times he tried, something still peeked through.

He inhaled sharply through his nose as he flipped himself over onto his stomach, nestling his face into his soft pillows.

The feeling in his chest was too intense to bear, he could feel his breath become sporadic, unsure if it was because his face was buried in his pillows or otherwise.

He inhaled sharply once more, this time followed followed by a small Hic as his throat began to close up.

No, no, he wasn't going to cry. It's not that big of a deal. He's fine. He should be happy for you if anything.

But. With everything that happened up until that point. He really couldn't help himself from letting his emotions get the best of him.

Hot tears soaked into his pillow as his hands clutched at his hair violently, hissing in pain as his wounds flexed open.

He grits his teeth, another hic escaping his lips as he opened his eyes into the pillow.

Nothing but a warm, yellowish void.

 He pushed himself up and flipped onto his side, curling into himself, yanking a blanket over his shoulders before clutching his head, throbbing in a burning pain once again as he cried quietly.

He didn't even turn off the lamp before he'd passed out.

Silent, steady breathing, wet cheeks illuminated by the soft yellow light of his lamp. 

Tired eyes, finally getting their well deserved rest. 

An aching heart, beating slowly, deep inside his chest.

[ruukina]

WOLFISH

FANDOM: final fantasy xvi PAIRING: clive rosfield x reader ( gender neutral, afab ) RATING: explicit / 18+. minors dni. SUMMARY: After an exhausting week of running around Valisthea, you return home with your heart full and missing a certain outlaw. What you find upon your return is different... but not unwelcomed. WARNINGS: slightly rough sex, dirty talking, breeding kink, implied heat cycle. WORD COUNT: 7.7k

A/N: yeah i'm fairly down bad for this man. i normally don't write reader fics but i'm trying to expand my horizons so. here we are. gotta feed myself in this economy right?? expect more ffxvi stuff, whether its reader insert or other shit because the brainworms are very bad.

read on ao3!

It’s a silent ride back to Hideaway, as it always is on these solo missions of yours.

It’s not a common thing, but every so often you find yourself having to run around all of Valisthea with the job of making payments and collecting orders from the many kind souls that have been helping the cause that even keeps your personal home afloat. In fact, you could even say as Cid’s personal advisor, this was your main job; Otto was busy running the Hideaway and keeping it in check, so the job fell to you when you weren’t tailing after the man you worked under.

You also didn’t mind it, because it meant you had some time to yourself. You had the wind at your back, the smell of sea water to keep you company, and you could be in your thoughts alone.

Usually you didn’t mind it, at the very least. 

It’s not a long task to do or even a hard one, in fact you’d argue that most of your time spent there is arguing with the likes of Martha and Isabelle and even L’ubor to accept the gil that Cid himself has offered to give them, but this month’s mission of yours was different. It seemed like a certain boss of yours had racked up a few requests and the people he graciously helped either wanted to give him a reward or send a letter to ask for more help. And since you were unfortunately playing messenger, it meant that you were basically running around and doing his job… in the sense of gathering the requests and gifts, of course.

So, you were being a little delayed in returning. You made sure to send a Stolas, to let everyone know you weren’t dead - just incredibly busy.

But now you finally found yourself on the ferry back home and you were impatient to get back. Excited to get back to everyone, excited to finally be returning after about a week of having to travel by Chocobo to get to everywhere.

Excited to return back to him.

“Hey, Obolus, are we almost there yet?” You peer over to the ferryman, the wind wilding through your hair.

Obolus didn’t even look back at you, as he ‘tsks’ in response. “We’ll get there when we get there. Asking every five seconds won’t make the boat go any faster.”

You scrunch your nose at him, but he did unfortunately have a point. The trip usually never feels so long, but after being away for what seems like months, you were just anxious to get back and rest your feet. The silence of the ride passes, with only the sound of waves pressing against the exterior of the boat. 

You lean against the side and take the chance to reflect on all that’s happened. All that you’ve experienced. 

All that you’ve done.

You don’t really remember when you became Cid’s advisor. It’s had to have been years at this point, you remember only barely being what one would call an adult. You were a bearer without a brand, hiding your magic behind crystals. It’s what your father had taught you, to protect you from the cruel world you were born in. You were cursed, your mother refused to even acknowledge your existence - even more so after the death of your father. You only lived the way that you did because your mother loved your father more than she loved you, and made your father take care of you.

Your father never gave up on you. An idealist in a world of realists, he really thought you could be the one to change the world. 

He set himself up for failure, you bitterly had thought when news of his death arrived at your doorstep. He died for a cause he believed in, sure, but now he expected you to carry on that torch for him. And maybe there was a part of you that wanted to fight for a better world than the one you were handed, for those like you. You weren’t really sure what your true feelings were at that time.

There was one thing you did know, however; you knew you weren’t safe in your mother’s care, so you ran the day after your father’s passing and never looked back. You’re not even sure if your mother is even still alive or if she even misses you. Did she start anew, start all over with someone else and have a child she could be proud of?

As the years went on, you found that you didn’t even care. You can’t remember her face anymore.

You were crafty, a trickster, because that’s what kept you alive. Somehow, your paths with Cidolfus Telamon crossed. Not just once or twice, but five times. Four times, you rejected his appraisal and invitation to join him.

On the fifth path crossed, and the day he saved you from death, you finally joined him. You didn’t really expect to stay long in Hideaway, only thinking you would spend a few weeks or even a month before you jumped ship. You never stayed in one place for long, because it was always too dangerous for you to attach yourself to people. But everyone was so kind, so nice to you, and welcomed you with open arms. 

Especially Cidolfus.

You clung to him a lot, maybe because despite only meeting him five times he was the only person you really knew, and somehow you managed to become his advisor with your skills and your ability to pull him back to the ground. Otto was against it at first, not because he didn’t like you, but you were barely an adult. Yet, Cid had smiled and patted you on the shoulder, telling Otto that there was more to you than meets the eye.

It’s much more than what your mother gave you. Worthless, unneeded, dirty, sinful - that’s all that she had called you. Your own father would try and raise your spirits, but her words were sharp as a knife and they cut wounds in your wrists. Weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and you stayed. You stayed with the people who would become your family.

One day, Cid left with Goetz and the wolf he ( or rather, charon ) cared for, because of rumors of Shiva’s Dominant finally rising in a place where he can finally catch her, to give her the freedom she needed. He came back with Goetz carrying a girl on his back, and a branded man with the wolf practically attached to his hip.

Clive Rosfield.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but the man before you would change your life completely.

Cid introduced you to him, asking you to watch over him and help him adjust to the Hideaway. It’s almost funny to think about, because despite Clive’s grumblings about ‘not staying long’ ( words that echoed in your head as familiar, because you had said the same thing ), when you finally got track of him again, he was out helping the people of Hideaway. 

You made a joke about that and he quickly looked away, some colour on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It was a cute sight, unsightly for a rugged man like him. Despite his appearances, he was kind and soft, albeit a bit cynical from the hardships he faced in his life. Then you ended up helping him help people, because there wasn’t much to do at that time and you needed to stretch your legs, and that’s how Cid decided on his great idea to make Clive your personal assistant.

Clive then realized when Cid told him you ran him ragged, he meant it, because once Cid assigned Clive to you, it didn’t take you long to get him working because as long as someone could move, they could work. But of course, you joined Clive on his journey to help him out. Some days you had to stay at Hideaway but for the most part, you were at his side alongside Cid. 

You and Clive bonded together. Quick whips with one another, long nights together trying to figure out your next course of action with the Mothercrystals and how to save Valisthea, and slowly he became someone you… well, liked, essentially. You don’t exactly make friends with people, because you’ve never really had the chance to do so, but somehow Clive stabbed his way into your life and heart. 

He became softer with you, and you did too. You found it was easy to smile with him, to laugh with him, to love him. It scared you, because Clive was a Dominant - the second, mysterious Eikon of Fire, and yet something so much more than that. It was basically a target on your back, even more so than the relationship you had with Cid.

But you found that you couldn’t stop loving him, that you would endure the burning world for him. Maybe that scared you more.

He held you when you sobbed and broke down over Cid - the first time your mask of being strong ever cracked. You hated it, you hated being weak, because Cid didn’t need weak people helping him. Cid needed someone who could put themselves back together, but this time you couldn’t. The pieces of you were scattered all over the floor like glass and every time you picked one up, you cut your hand and let the blood drip from your wound.

Yet, Clive held you. He held you close, he didn’t judge you, because he was crying alongside you. Cid meant so much to everyone, including him. You sat in his arms, and he didn’t leave until he knew he could leave you alone without worrying over you. His gentleness contrasted his roughened up look, he looked at you so softly and filled with fondness towards you. He was not afraid to help pick up the pieces, even if it meant cutting his hands in the process. 

He put you back together, and he didn’t complain about it. Not even once.

Your relationship with him bloomed. Your friendship with him became something new, something else. It was a dangerous love, because of who Clive Rosfield is - what he is. Yet, you never swayed. You never faltered.

No matter what, he’s Clive to you.

But in public, he is Cid and you are Cid’s advisor - like you always were. You two were professional on the outside, only sneaking away to shed those titles when you had enough time to. You didn’t get those chances a lot, but when you did he made sure to treat you like you were a deity. You’ve had lovers in the past, but they never made you feel like Clive made you feel. He made you feel loved, appreciated, cared for. You took care of him, but he always took care of you in return. He never simply just took, he always gave back.

No wonder you were anxious to get back to him; you’ve missed him dearly.

“We’re approaching the Hideaway!”

The ferryman’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You open your eyes, quickly looking towards the horizons. Even in the blackest of nights, with the moon being your only light, you could see the shape of the broken down airship that you and everyone else called home. You could feel the smile creeping on your face.

“I’m home,” you whisper.

To who exactly? Not yourself, but to the man who was waiting for you.

You thank Obolus for the ride home as you step off of the boat, quickly rushing up the stairs. Most people had turned in for the night so there were only a few souls still haunting the Hideaway, and they offered their greetings to you and a cheery ‘welcome back, advisor!’, to which you returned with a smile.

You feel a little silly rushing through the halls, like an eager child, but you were happy to be home. 

You were happy about seeing him again.

You skid to a stop when you reached your destination. The Tub and Crown was a bit of a ghost town around this time, but you knew there were still a few people aside from Maeve haunting the area.

And you weren’t wrong. There sat Gav and Jill, with Torgal laying at Jill’s side. The hound lifts his head up at the sound of your footsteps, and once he lays his eyes on you he quickly stands up and rushes over towards you with a happy sounding bark. Since becoming Clive’s partner, Torgal never really left your side either. If he wasn’t with his owner or Jill, he was shuffling at your hip and following you around.

“Torgal!” You greet happily, kneeling on the ground to pet him and spoil him with some treats you carried on hand once you got close enough to where the two sat.

The two break from their conversation to see what Torgal was barking at, both of them greeting you with a smile on their faces.

“Well, if it ain’t our favorite advisor!” Gav slams his drink down. He looks you over, peering at the basket of gifts and requests at your side - all for a certain someone. “Talk about bein’ fashionably late. You weren’t kiddin’ when you said almost everyone in Valisthea was keepin’ you away.”

Jill nods her head in agreement, cupping her own chin to look over the heavy basket. “It sounds like you’ve had quite the adventure yourself.”

“Oh, it was the same ol’ stuff I deal with everyday. Just this time everyone in Valisthea caught wind that Cid’s advisor was in town and decided to make it their problem.” You rub Torgal’s belly, to which the hound accepts with happy pants. 

Speaking of the aforementioned man… You look to the side of Gav. No handsome brooding man there. 

You look to the side of Jill. No handsome brooding man there, either.

“Where is Clive?” You stop petting Torgal for a moment. “I figured he would be hanging out with you.”

Gav rolls his eyes a little, both good naturedly but also in some slight annoyance. “Went right to his chambers to work on things when we got back. He’s been in a bloody mood all week.” The scout holds up a finger. “Scowlin’ more than usual, more antsy than usual, tappin’ his foot while he waits at the door.” Every reason is met with a finger going up. “Not like everyone is afraid of him here, but it felt like we had to walk on eggshells around him. Even Charon was tryin’ not to rib him so hard.”

You blink a little, a brow raised. “Has the missions been going poorly or something?”

“Fuck no,” Gav shakes his head in response. “Everything’s been going smoothly. He’s just been actin’ like a shite.”

“He hasn’t been that bad,” counters Jill. Though, there’s a slight pause of hesitation from her. “But Gav isn’t wrong, he has been in a bit of a mood. More than likely, he was just worried about you.”

Worried about you? It’s not like you can’t handle yourself, and you’ve definitely been on missions longer than a week without him. You can’t help but scrunch your nose in thought - as always, when you’re thinking hard. Something was up with him, clearly.

Jill reads you like a book, with a smile on her face. “He’s still up, last time I checked. He’s burying his nose in reports as to distract himself. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the visit from you.” She stands up from her seat, as Torgal also rolls over and trots back to her side. “I’ve got some work to do with Tarja, but it was nice seeing you tonight.”

You nod your head, standing up and dusting yourself off. “Tarja, huh? Try not to stay up too late with her, alright?” You laugh a little when Shiva’s dominant huffs softly at your teasing, giving you just a gentle nudge in return. The two of you have gotten quite close over the years, and she was supportive of you and Clive. You felt like you could sigh in relief at that, that you didn’t have to worry about Clive’s childhood friend coming after you.

Gav finishes his drink, standing up as well. “I’m turnin’ in for the night.” He pats your shoulder with a grin on his face. “Make sure you give our leader a nice, warm welcome!”

He only grins harder seeing your cheeks turn red like a tomato at the implication of his words, and Jill’s soft laughter only makes you turn ever redder. Ah, there was your punishment for teasing Jill. The three of them make their way out of the alehouse, your eyes following them as you think about your conversation.

He’s in a mood.

What could he be in a mood about? You’ll have to do some digging, which isn’t hard - if there’s one thing Clive is with you that not even a sour mood could change, it’s that he was honest with you. It’s one of his best traits, really, that he’s open with his feelings and doesn’t usually shy away from speaking his mind about certain things. It’s not always easy, because there are some things he keeps to his chest, but for the most part communication is always important between you two. You pick up the basket of gifts and quickly make it to the end of the hall, where Clive’s chambers were.

And well, they were technically your chambers too, you think with the heat growing at your cheeks once more.

Shifting the basket a little, you use your free hand to knock on his chamber doors - once, twice and thrice.

“The door’s unlocked.” Clive’s low voice fills your ears. He already has you sighing and letting out a quivering breath. Founder, you’ve missed him.

You open the door with a smile on your face. You take in the sights before you - his room is as you left it, with the man himself seated at the desk. He seems to be burying himself in his usual reports and paperwork, just as Jill said. He didn’t even lift his head upon you entering.

“Guess who.” You smile, as you close the door behind you.

The sound of your voice has Clive immediately lift his head from his work. Cerulean eyes widened, the quill he was using drops from between his fingers and clattering on the desk.

“You’re back.” He sounds almost breathless. His chest raises a little as he breathes in and out, those cerulean eyes of him looking a lot more puppy-dog than usual.

This was different, indeed.

You walk towards him, placing the basket on the edge of the desk not covered in scattered papers. “Just got back. Gifts for you by the way, I was hunted down by weary souls who wanted to give their thanks to the so-called Cid the Outlaw.” You peer at him with a gentle, loving smile on your face.

He laughs a little in response, a rare smile forming on his own features. “No wonder you’re late. Sorry about that. I’ll be sure to pen my thanks to them soon.”

You shake your head at him. “Oh, don’t even start with the apologies. It’s my job to aid you, it’s kind of in the title.” A pause, shifting your feet a little as you hold your hands behind your back, shyly. “And… you know I’ll do anything for you, Clive.”

The words you whisper made him smile a little more. “You have perfect timing. I’m actually finishing up and I could use your advice.” He nudges his chair back a little, gently patting his thigh. 

For a moment, you stare with a tilted head, until you realize the implications. Your cheeks turn red.

Oh, he’s inviting you to sit there.

Oh, this was different, indeed.

But you don’t hesitate or falter at all. You take a seat on his thigh, leaning against him. One of his strong arms wraps themselves around your waist, pulling your body flushed against his. The position is a little embarrassing, you have to admit to yourself, but it feels warm, comforting - loving. It doesn’t take long for you to fall back into place, flipping through the letters and offering your advice and help to him.

It also doesn’t take long for Clive to stop paying attention. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. His hot breath tickles your skin, a shiver running down your spine, as his fingers draw circles in your hip. His lips ghosts around your skin, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your neck as though he was whispering forbidden words in your skin. The quill from his fingers once again falls onto the desk, the reports forgotten about as his attention shifts to you. It’s hard to focus when he’s like this, so you decide to also forget about the many papers that littered his desktop.

“Jill and Gav told me you were in a mood.” You finally shift the conversation to what was really on your mind.

Clive only offers a grunt at first. “I’m not really in a mood.”

“Are you? You’re acting a little differently tonight.” Your fingers run through his hair, out of his eyes. “What’s on your mind, Clive? You know you can tell me.”

For a moment, he hesitates, but he knows he doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. You know he doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. He pulls you close to him, finally lifting his head to look you in the eye.

“I was fine when you left, but after a day, it felt like there was a pit in my stomach.” Clive runs his fingers up and down your hip. “Hunger, I suppose, is the best way to describe it.”

“Hunger?”

“I felt like I couldn’t focus with you gone. It was worse when I was here alone. Your scent was so much stronger than it usually was…” Clive recounts, averting his gaze for a moment from slight embarrassment, but he quickly focuses back on you. “The more days you were away, the more the hunger grew.”

“And the grouchier you got?” You tease him, though your tease was cut short and replaced with a slight yelp when he pinches your thigh with a huff.

“I wasn’t grouchy.” He counters, but his tone of voice sounds like he’s not exactly fighting the accusation.

You think about what he’s said, though. A hunger he felt for you. It started happening when you first left. He found that your scent was stronger than normal, even when you weren’t there. The symptoms sounded fairly familiar to you, and you hummed a little in thought as you ran your fingers through his hair. He groaned in delight at that, leaning into your touch and burying his face in the crook of your neck once more.

“Maybe you’re going through a rut?”

Clive lifts his head up. “A rut? I’m not a dog, love.”

“I mean, you travel with a dog, you constantly have a permanent puppy-dog eyes look on you and you turn into a dog-lizard thing. You’re kind of dog-adjacent.” You shrug cheekily, with an equally cheeky smile on your face. “But I’m serious about the last thing. We don’t know a whole lot about Ifrit. Maybe it’s going through some kind of rut or something and it’s affecting you. It is springtime, you know. Maybe nature is just setting course for Ifrit, too.”

It’s a pretty plausible theory. Clive stops to think about it for a brief moment, his breath tickling your neck once more as you sigh. Still, he says nothing at first and pauses his movements, until he looks right back up at you, his gaze meeting yours.

“You do realize the implications of your theory, right?” His pupils are blown out, more than usual. His strong, calloused hands grip your hips, shifting you a little so your lower half is flushed right against his.

Oh, there’s something pressing against you. Your body warms up, a heat and ache pooling right in your core. 

You didn’t realize how much you miss his body pressing against yours in such a sinful manner, until he rolls his hips against yours in want and need.

“I meant what I said,” you begin to say, your hands gripping to his shoulders as you slowly grind against the bulge in his pants, meeting his hips’ movements. You couldn’t help but grin a little when he moaned lowly, a sound just for you. “You know I’ll do anything for you, Clive.”

That’s all you’re able to get out at that point, because once you give him permission to do what he needs to do, Clive’s lips press against yours. It was only a sweet, soft kiss for a for seconds at best, because it quickly turned into something fierce, hungry. His tongue prods against your lips, wanting access into your warm mouth, and you gladly part your lips for him, because you need him as much as he needs you. Your tongue presses and swirls against his - it’s a small battle for dominance you never win, but you know he likes a small challenge. His own tongue presses and pins yours, until you ease away to let him completely take the reins.

The kiss is hot, wet, truly sinful. His hands grope everywhere he could, mostly squeezing at your thighs and hips with his fingers digging into your soft, plump flesh until they found their way to your rear. Squeezing and grabbing, groping in such a way that would make you flustered had you not been needy with your own arousal, he lifts you up as though you’re made of nothing but feathers, and truly you’re a little limp in his grasp. Clive’s strength always managed to make you feel dizzy, in a good way, and that doesn’t change here. He pushes his chair back, leaving the desk and the many reports he still has to do in the dust and makes his way towards his bed - your shared bed.

He only breaks the kiss to place you down on the mattress, gentle pants leaving both of your lips as a string of saliva connects the two of you. It breaks as he pulls away a little more, only to dive back in and press fluttering, wet kisses to your neck. Just like the kiss from before, it turns into something a little more hot and brutal; his lips suck at your skin to give it a bruising mark, teeth sinking into your flesh to draw just a little bit of blood from you. You groan hotly, your fingers gripping at his dark locks as your hips jolt upwards. Clive licks and kisses at the bruise and bite mark he left, panting gently against your flesh.

“You still taste so, so good.” Clive whispers into your skin, as his hands tug right at your shirt. He tries his best not to rip it, but unbuttoning your shirt during these kinds of acts was never exactly a cleanful tact, because you can already see a few buttons pop off just from him ripping it open. You chuckle a little; some things really don’t change.

Your chest is bared to him, and Clive wastes no time in pressing gentle kisses on naked skin. Trailing down, he kisses, licks and sucks on any skin he could latch himself onto and sinks teeth into your sink that leaves behind a delicious sting of pain, until finally reaching your left breast. Your breath hitches a little as his tongue swirls around the nub of your nipple, the hitched breath morphing into a needy moan once his lips latch around it to give it a gentle suck. His fingers tease and play with the unattended one, his attacks on you relentless and cruel - cruel in the sense he never slowed down.

“Clive.” you whine with a high-pitched voice, trying your best to roll your hips against his. But he doesn’t let you, pinning you down with just his pelvis. He lifts his head up, a smirk on his face.

“Just lay there and let me make you feel good,” whispers Clive. The way his low voice sounded so commanding, you can’t help but obey him. He was always like this, though; he was always chasing for your pleasure and never his own. He loved you, he wanted to make you feel good. It was never really fair! But at the same time, it truly was nice. He was so different from lovers you had in the past, who only cared about their own needs.

He attends to your other breast, giving it the same treatment - a lick here, a suck there, leaving a trail of bruises and bite marks in his wake. Once he’s satisfied, his lips start to trail downwards. He worships you like this, with his lips and his tongue, making sure there’s a patch of skin with his mark on it. His hands make work of your bottoms, pulling off the offending fabric until you were just left in your undergarments. You expect to feel his fingers on your skin so he can pull them down, but instead when you look down, you see Clive is using his teeth to pull them down.

Oh, this is different. Normally he takes his time with you; press himself against you, kiss you all over. Even as someone who prefers to please his partners more than please himself, it seems like tonight he’s impatient.

“Seems like someone’s been wanting this,” chuckles Clive as he spreads your lower lips a little to inspect you. “You’re already so soaked. All I did was tease you a little. Founder, you’re as depraved as I am.” His hot breath hits your wetness as he speaks, never once pressing his lips against you. You jolt a little at the feeling, a soft huff escaping your lips.

“You started this mess,” You tell him, your fingers already gripping in his hair. “You finish it.”

Another chuckle leaves his lips. Clive is impatient, though, and he wastes no time in pressing his lips right against your dripping entrance. His tongue is relentless here just as it was on your skin; it wastes no time in slipping inside of you, as he starts to drink your essence and fuck you with his tongue alone. It’s almost unbearable to you, in a good way - he drinks like a man starved.

Clive is so good to you, but he knows how to be so cruel, because he knows you enjoy it. He knows how easily you melt on his tongue, and he enjoys every single moment of it.

His fingers slip in as well, two of them pumping in and out as he moves upwards a little, finding your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks at it and you feel the smirk against your entrance as soon as you squeak and moan from his actions. He licks, sucks, his movements becoming faster with each second that passes. You’re trying so hard to swallow back your moans, but the moment his lips wrap around your clit and give it a hard suck, you can’t control your volume anymore. It echoes off of the walls, embarrassingly so, but your mind is so fogged that you don’t seem to care like you usually would.

The knot in your lower stomach painfully tightens, you can feel yourself reaching your peak as Clive continues to tease your clit and thrust his fingers in and out of you. Just as you’re about to find your release, though, he abruptly stops. He pulls himself off of you, his fingers are coated with your essence.

“Clive–” You begin to whine, almost in pain. You stop yourself short when you watch him lick his fingers clean - slowly, like he’s putting on a show for you. Once they’re clean, he looks at you as though he’s a predator who has caught prey in his trap. The slight darkness of the room makes his cerulean eyes have a glow to them. The knot in your stomach returns.

He intends to devour you, his way. He’s going to drag this out, until you’re begging and crying for release.

Clive crawls back onto the bed, his hands moving to undo all of the leathers and fabric of his clothing, until he’s as bare as you are. His cloak and shirt go first, dropping onto the ground until his chest is revealed to you. Greagor, you could probably write several missives about Clive’s chest and muscles, but despite what your lover may say, you’re not that depraved. You keep all of those thoughts to yourself, like a good advisor should. Your eyes drift down with his hands, watching as they fumble a little with his belt, stifling a laugh from how needy and excited he is.

You stop laughing once he finally does undo his belt and pull his pants down, revealing his hard cock to you. You’ve seen it before, it’s been inside of you multiple times now, but you still hitch your breath when you see it. The gods certainly graced Clive with something to brag about, for certain. 

If you ever do meet Ultima maybe you should thank him for giving his vessel something that would make you cross your eyes and forget your own name, but something tells you a narcissistic god obsessed with the purity of his vessel may not appreciate the sonnets a mere mortal would write about said vessel’s cock.

Pre-cum dribbles at the tip, his fingers coated in a mix of his saliva and your juices as he uses it to his advantage to stroke himself a little, to really give you a show now. You hear yourself panting, your chest heaving up and down as you watch the sinful sight before you.

“Enjoying yourself?” Clive smirks, smugness in his voice.

You huff a little in response. “I’ll only enjoy myself when you actually fuck me instead of showing off, Rosfield.”

He laughs a little, leaning down to kiss your forehead sweetly. “As my faithful advisor commands.”

You have no time to respond, as he quickly flips you so you’re on your stomach, face slightly pressed against the pillow beneath you. He presses his front against your back, the tip of his cock pressing against your wet folds teasingly. Your needy whine and rear thrusting back to try and get him inside of you earns a laugh from him, but thankfully he’s not intensely cruel tonight. He presses inside of you, though it’s not as slow as he normally is. Normally he takes his time with you, but in just seconds he’s got his entire length inside of you. You feel the way his body shudders against your back, your soaked walls clenching around him. A sigh passes your lips, morphing into a moan. 

You’ve missed this. You’ve missed him.

His thrusts are slow at first, but it doesn’t take him long for him to pick up his speed. His hips meet your backside, a wonderful symphony of skin slapping against each other fills the room, loud enough to make your ears burn with embarrassment. You bury your face in the pillow to muffle your moans. A hand wraps itself around the back of your neck, though, to pull you up towards its owner. Clive’s heavy breath is in your ear now, worsening your arousal.

“Don’t hide your voice from me,” pants Clive, sharp teeth nibbling at your earlobe. “I want to hear you.”

And you find that you can’t deny him. Your moans are loud, needy, your knuckles turning white from how roughly you’re gripping the sheets to the point where they might tear. His other hand snakes down your stomach, reaching your lower half, and his fingers make work on your clit. It’s a slow rub, his thrusts contrasting the gentleness of his fingers. You can feel yourself reaching your peak, you can feel the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening until–

Until he pulls right out of you.

You whine, loudly, at the loss. Your walls clench at nothing, and you try to thrust yourself back towards him, but Clive doesn’t let you do that. Instead, he flips you both again - him on his back and you sitting on his lap. He looks up at you with a smile, his hand running up and down your stomach once more.

“I know exactly what you like.” The outlaw says, pulling you forward so his cock rests right against your stomach. You feel how hot it is, how hard it is, and how it throbs and pulsates against your skin. “Show me how much you want to cum.”

Oh, he’s definitely dragging this out as long as he can. You can’t exactly blame him, you don’t want this to end either. 

But you also really need to reach your peak, otherwise you may burn the whole Hideaway down.

Your wobbly legs manage to hold yourself up, slowly moving down on him. Your whole body shudders as his cock fills you up again, the tip pressing against the deepest parts of your inside. You move up and down on his length, moans and pants spilling from your lips as you decide to not hide your voice any longer - because he wants to hear you. And you can’t deny him, because you don’t want to deny him.

“Founder, your voice alone drives me mad.” Clive growls, his hand squeezing your thigh as he thrusts upwards to meet your own movements. “Tried to focus on my work, tried to put you out of my head for days, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I needed you blissed out on my cock–”

He’s rambling, his voice low and rough, and you love every second of it. Clive’s not much of a talker, but when he is, he makes you feel so depraved for him. Your legs were starting to shake and feel weak already, but you push yourself - you push yourself because you want this. Because you need this from him, just as much as he needed this from you.

“Clive,” you chant his name like a prayer, over and over again. You must sound delirious.

But Clive clearly doesn’t seem to mind, the way his back arches a little just from the sound of your sweet voice. It’s a powerful feeling, you realize, having such a powerful man like him weak at you - a mere mortal, a bearer but not a Dominant. Yet, it’s a good reminder that beneath everything, Clive is a mortal man as well.

“Can you feel me, sweetheart?” He places his hand on your lower stomach, feeling the way it bulges a little from the sheer size of him. You look down, shuddering at the sight as he continues to thrust upwards, your eyes following how the bulge disappears then reappears. “You take me so fucking well. It’s like you were made for me, the way you shake your hips like a woman at the Veil.”

You can’t respond, any time you try to all that fumbles from your lips are moans and whines of pure pleasure.

“I can get so deep into you like this,” groans Clive, his other hand grasping at your hip. “All the way into you. Fuck, I could breed you right here. I could make you swell with my child.”

Oh, that’s different.

And it’s clearly a good different, the way your body responds. Your walls clench around him, as if your body had a mind of its own, as if your body was begging for the man to breed you. He notices too, and he licks his lips and smirks once he realizes you may enjoy the idea as he did.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Another thrust upwards. His thrusts are getting sloppier and rougher, but Greagor does it feel so good. “I wouldn’t be able to control myself, seeing you like that. I’d fuck you every single day–”

You moan, so lecherously. “Clive, fuck, I’m going to cum!”

Both hands grab at your hips, fingers digging and sinking into your skin so hard you know there’s going to be some bruising there in the morning. But you don’t care. All you care about is the man underneath you, and chasing after your own release. Clive makes you move faster onto him, a growl rumbling from his throat.

“Go on, let yourself go.”

You were already so overstimulated from the foreplay from before, and the way his cock brushes against your sweet spots and bashes against the entrance to your womb, you can’t help it. Your walls tighten around him, and you let yourself go.

Another growl rumbles from his throat, this time he pulls you right down onto him, hard. It doesn’t take him long to follow you into a blissful climax, his hot seed pouring into you and flooding your insides. It’s a lot, more than usual, to the point where it floods out from your entrance and onto him.

You collapse onto him, and he instantly takes you in his arms. Slowly, he flips your positions again, just so he can press himself deeper into you. Thank the Founder, because your legs were about to give out.

A moment passes, until he finally pulls himself out from you. His blown out pupils watch as his seed overflows from you, dripping onto the sheets beneath you. He shudders at the sight, and you can’t help but shudder as well.

You’re fading in and out of existence, but when you mostly come to, Clive has wiped you and him down, cleaning you up and gently pressing kisses against any marks he’s left on you. The sheets will unfortunately have to wait until tomorrow. Frankly, you could give less of a shit about that.

The outlaw slumps himself against you, pulling you into his arms. You both lay there in a comfortable silence, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you.” His voice trembles, a little embarrassed - that’s the Clive you know. “I’ll, uh, make sure Tarja prepares a herbal tea for you tomorrow, so that you don’t…” He trails off, hiding his face against your neck even more now.

You chuckle, feeling the hotness of his cheeks against your skin. “Feeling better?”

“Yes,” answers the male as he lifts his head up with a smile. “Much better. You always seem to know how to cure my worries and needs.”

“What can I say? I know my boss pretty well.”

He laughs, and your heart feels so warm, so in love with the man before you. Clive leans in, pressing his lips against yours to share a sweet, innocent kiss that contrasts the sinful act you both just partook in. And you kiss him back, wrapping your arms around him. You only stop when you feel something hard rub against your thigh, pulling back to see he was still pretty aroused. He’s a little sheepish at that, but he looks at you in want, in need - and love, as always.

“I don’t think one time is going to be enough for you, big guy.”

A sheepish laugh falls from his lips. “I don’t think so either. I might need a few more rounds. That is, if my faithful advisor is up to it.” 

He’s challenging you, clearly. The smirk on his face tells you all you need to know. You smirk back, bucking your hips against his to accept.

“Only if you do most of the work.” You tell him, a leg going in to wrap itself around his waist. “You made me weak in my knees, Lord Rosfield. A gentleman should take some responsibility for his actions.”

His low chuckle reaches your ears, as he leans in to press his forehead against yours. It’s a tender action, one that definitely makes you feel weak in the knees - if you hadn’t already. It doesn’t take him long to reenter you, and you can’t hide the shudder of your slightly overstimulated body. 

But you want everything he has to offer, the good and the bad of Clive Rosfield, and he’ll give it to you. 

Because he wants everything you have to offer, the good and the bad of his faithful advisor, in return.

“As you wish, my love.”

He claims your lips. The night goes on.

“Somethin’ seems to be on your mind.”

Jill looks towards the source of the voice. Gav stands next to her, arms crossed as he meets her gaze with a raised brow. The Dominant says nothing to him, only slowly returning her gaze to where she once was looking. Gav’s line of sight follows hers, landing right on the scene that was unfolding before them.

“Clive, I’m trying to do work!”

Hideaway’s poor advisor was currently trying to shake an overgrown Cid the Outlaw off of them, who has currently draped himself over you. It had been a single day since you had returned from your trip and needless to say, Clive was acting as though you had been gone for years. Arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against yours.

“Nothing is stopping you from doing your work,” is all Clive remarks with, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Except for a fucking overgrown dog!”

Gav whistles at the sight before him. “Someone seems to be in a good mood.”

“Indeed,” nods Jill, her gaze never leaving the both of you. Right now you were trying to walk away, which resulted in you basically having to drag the second Eikon of fire around because he refused to let himself off of you. “But, I can’t help but wonder if this is worse than the mood he was in before.”

The scout shrugs his shoulders. “Our advisor has dealt with worse from him. And we don’t have to deal with him slobberin’ all over us, so I’d say a good mood is better than nothin’.”

The woman says nothing. She knows it’s going to be a few days before Clive will return to his normal self, if your theory about why he’s been moody all week rings true. Such things don’t end with a simple, pleasurable night. You’ll be fine, she knows that, so she’s not too worried that you won’t be able to handle Clive Rosfield.

It’s in your job description, after all.

( she’ll still pray to metia for you, at the very least, and hope you come out unscathed. )

[celestialtarot11]

Career Guidance + Messages 💼🥂🌃

Hi friends! Welcome to another PAC post 💌💖 thank you all for supporting me! We’re going to be getting you some career advice + messages regarding that! Happy picking ✨🌹

Pile 1: 9 of pentacles • The Tower • King Of Swords

Hi there pile 1’s! 💗🤗 Welcome to your reading. For some of ya’ll, maybe you received a short notice you were fired? Or for someone tried to either gossip about you, or fire you. Or cause some sort of situation at work where your reputation could’ve been damaged. Im sorry if that did happen pile 1’s, I do see you’re caring for yourself and currently living in your own world 💅🏻 as you should! If you got fired spirit is saying you didn’t deserve that, and you may actually have a chance to get a better job, a job you actually love and feel comfortable with. Im getting this massive download that some of ya’ll were waiting for someone or a group of people to receive their karma? They may have done you dirty in the past and now you’ve seen them receive it. I feel like spirit is saying continue caring for yourself, and if you’ve been losing sleep over finding another job, attract that opportunity 💗 spirit will make it known to you. You will rebuild after a loss or stagnation in your career and your reputation will improve. There is some sort of truth that this person or group hid that’ll bite them in the ass is what I heard 👀 pile 1’s, I hope this resonated for you. And I hope you can move on and do whats best for you to move forward in peace and love 🤍

Pile 2: King of Pentacles • Ace of wands • 5 of wands

Hi there pile 2’s! Welcome to your reading 💗🤗 I see you are financially stable or are reaching a point of stability and I heard this was a long time coming! You’ve been working your butt off is also what I heard, and you’ve faced many days and nights with conflict, issues and petty drama. Spirit is saying things will solidify and take a more consistent approach in your career, and your passion for life and making money will return. Some of ya’ll may actually enjoy the rush, you feel motivated and inspired to take action and maybe your next job/career will require you to be physically active. Or maybe it already does. But spirit is saying you may receive a bonus or promotion soon for your hard work! You will be recognized! 💗 I also see a lot of other people trying to one up you, so maybe this was an issue you faced in your career. People may have tried to compete against you and show off, but at the end you’ll be receiving a beautiful reward with recognition 🤍 and your own money is a sign of how much you’ve worked too so be proud! Spirit is very proud of you 🤗 make sure to rest and not burn yourself out as well, if you’ve been working a lot pile 2’s. Thank you for reading & please feel free to comment like or reblog! Have a great one 💗

Pile 3: 4 of pentacles • Page of cups • 3 of cups

Hi there pile 3’s! 🤗 welcome! I see for a while ya’ll have been saving up and now have an opportunity to spend on a night out 👀 you may get to know your coworkers a lot more and make friends! I see its a time for celebration too, so maybe you hit your goal amount either now, or in the future and you’ll want to celebrate with the people around you 💗 wonderful job pile 3’s! There may be a party at work or around you. For guidance, I feel that its important to get out there and get to know who is around you and what, especially if you’ve been focused on work for a while. Emotionally it’ll help you feel less pressured and more comfortable. I think you are the pile to stay alone and reserved, and thats understandable! So it may take some time for you to open up but I see plenty opportunities to get to know coworkers 🤗 you may also have a new coworker joining in! Someone you’ll get along greatly with and have fun with at work. I also feel some of yall have been saving up to be able to buy your sibling or friend a beautiful gift and now you can surprise them! I love this and I think they’ll love the gift, especially since its from you 🤍 for some of yall specifically that’ll resonate. Overall, work will improve and become fun if things have been stagnant or slow! Enjoy pile 3’s and please feel free to comment, reblog and like 💗

Pile 4: The Lovers • Ace of pentacles • 6 of cups

Hi there pile 4’s! 🤗 honestly this is such a sweet but hot and heavy energy 👀 I heard you’ll possibly be partnering up with someone of your dreams… romantically speaking. They may come in the form of a coworker, partner of some kind. But they will have lots of resources, money and resources to help you with any project, or anything! This could be a romantic opportunity as well, and a chance to bond with someone at work. They’ll help you financially and in some other ways…👀 is what I heard. I also heard you’re getting all in one 😂 whoever this person is, they’re cheeky and mischievous, but hella charming. And very smart. You’ll be getting a bonus or promotion soon! And will approach financial stability in the future. I see lots of cute moments and overall you’ll be enjoying your time at work. You’ll be feeling lighter, joyful, happy and expressive with the people around you. You’ll be feeling connected to what it is you do! This person could also show you another job opportunity too, so maybe some of yall are unhappy with your current job and this person comes in and gives you another reason to like them 😂 (another job) omg they’re so smooth and quick with it! Major flirt. Enjoy pile 4’s 👀 feel free to comment, like and reblog 💅🏻🤍

Thank ya’ll for reading! Feel free to like comment and reblog 🌟💗 thank ya’ll for the support! This was so much fun to do.

Paid Readings 🌟🤍

[thoughtsforsoob]

my birthday is coming up! can i please request smut with seonghwa and mingi (bcs its his birthday too! we share the same birthday 🥳)

- 🐰

a/n: happy birthday 🐰 anon !! I hope you have a good one and I hope this piece compensates as a good birthday gift 🩷 I hope your birthday was not too bad (that asshole you told me about sucks. don’t let him ruin your day! stink men don’t deserve the time of day) please enjoy!!

Mingi and seonghwa were never the first people you would think of when you try to think of members with similar interest. They both just kind of went on their own path. For example, Seonghwa loved his LEGO’s and Mingi loved playing video games/watching anime. One thing they could agree on though, was how much they adored you.

You were just a friend to them. You happened to work for them as a staff member for this world tour they were on. You were in charge of getting them from place to place, keeping them in line and helping during shows. They enjoyed your presence so much. The two men were particularly fond of you and would always fight over you. You found their bickering endearing but never took it deeply. Of course you thought they were just joking. Idols never go for staff but this case was very different.

Since the tour had started and you began working with them, they’d been plotting a way to get you into bed with them. Now that the final show was approaching and you’d go back to work with other groups, they needed to put their plan into action. It all started after the last show. The whole staff and the members got together for a nice dinner at a privately reserved restaurant. Of course, the two members took up all your attention the whole time and were practically tripping over their own feet to make you laugh. You just went along with it and gave them the attention they wanted. Besides, you’d grown to enjoy their company. You’d miss them a lot once you were gone. All came to an end after about three hours of talking and eating and drinking. You escorted the boys back to their room that they happened to be sharing together. Before leaving from their front door, they offered to bring you inside to drink some more and hang out. You hesitated because you could get in big trouble but how could you deny them? They’d been so sweet and kind to you that you felt awful saying no.

You went in and had a drink with them. Everything was all fun and giggles when you noticed that they both had their big, dreamy hands on your thighs. You tried not to make a big deal out of it but it was starting to make you feel stuff you didn’t think you should feel about them. At some point, the conversation died down and mingi was the first one to speak up about the situation. “So, y/n. Thank you for keeping us together for this tour. It’s means a lot. There’s just something we’ve been meaning to tell you about.” Seonghwa immediately chimes in, “yeah. This may come as a shock but we’re both really into you. We’ve been fighting over you this whole time but we decided not to fight anymore because we could just give you both our attention.” You’re sitting there…unsure of what to say to them. Mingi started to talk again, “so…before you leave us for good, we wanted to ask you something. Would you be interested in sleeping with us?” You immediately started to blush bright red. “S-sleep with you two? I’d love you but won’t I get in trouble? I don’t wanna get in trouble. I like this job.” You frowned and the boys immediately made you smile again. “Of course not! We’d never get you in trouble. We’re asking you for this. Please? Sleep with us? We promise we’ll show you pleasure you’ve never experienced before.” Seonghwa looked at you with his big, beautiful eyes and you just could deny him. You nodded and they looked so excited.

They started by having you strip out of your clothes and they did the same. They offered to let you shower and the three of you stepped into the very spacious shower. While cleaning up, a lot of deep, passionate kissing ensued. Mingis kisses were slopping and desperate and seonghwas kisses were gentle yet meaningful. Both kisses being very fulfilling and enjoyable. You three were finally clean and were able to get out and dry off. They didn’t even let you put on clothes because they wanted to get right to work. Mingi picked you up and set you on their big bed. They picked the biggest option they could in anticipation for this day (calking for the win). Seonghwa practically pushed mingi out of the way for the space between your legs. He pulled your legs over his broad shoulders and looked up at you. “Is this okay? Can I eat you out? You just look so delectable.” You nodded and he dove right in. Out of jealously, mingi got on the bed and started to kiss you and play with your nipples. These combined sensations made you beak out in moans. They enjoyed listening to your noises. After he was fed up, mingi made seonghwa trade with him to be fair. Mingi eat you out the same we he kissed you, messy and desperate. Saliva and slick were all over his face, making you even more wet at the sight. He didn’t even let you cum, wanting you on his cock before you were allowed to cum.

You started to get restless and that’s when you really began to take some charge. You turned around towards seonghwa, wanting him to go first. “Please? I need you inside. You can be first. Please?” You gave him your best big shiny eyes and he folded, not needing you to beg at all. Mingi moved so that seonghwa could have his way. He ask mingi to grab him a condom and he did. Seonghwa ripped it open with his teeth and slid it on. You whimped while watching him and he smirked, “you liked that, pretty girl? Don’t worry. Im going to take such good care of you right now. If something hurts, you’re gonna tell me. Okay?” You nodded up at him. You three went through picking a safe word and everything was squared away.

Seonghwa started but slowly pushing into your wet entrance. He started to hiss and you were whimpering. “Fuck! You feel so damn good! So good for me. Right?” You nodded and look at him, feeling the pain subside. “Mm please this feels so good. Thank you! Thank you!” Out of instinct you reach up to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He found the action endearing and let you hold onto him. Mingi watched the whole time, fucking his fist and moaning. You turned to look at him and smiled, enjoying watching how he touched himself. Seonghwa took his time with you and when you both were getting close, he warned you. “Fuck, I’m going to cum. Please? You’re gonna cum with me, pretty girl?” You nod, “mhm please let me cum! I’ve been so good!” He pulls you close and you do the same, finally cumming together. When you both finished, you laid down and panted but mingi didn’t give you much of a chance e to recover. You cried out when he jumped on top of you pushed himself inside you. The size difference was very noticeable to you and it made you feel the pain again. “Fuck! I can’t!” You cried and mingi just smirked, loving how you were complaining about his size. He gently caressed your cheek and tried his best to make you feel comfortable. “Does it hurt too much? Poor thing.” You look up at him with tears in your eyes and shake your head, “no please! Keep going. I want it.” You begged him and he continued. He fucked you at a quick pace, leaving your tummy with an ache afterwards. He just went in so deep and so fast. He finished a little quicker than seonghwa, moaning loudly when he finally came, making sure to let you cum also.

When all was said and done, they both laid there with you, taking care of you. Their aftercare combined was the best. They made sure you drank plenty of water and got some snacks in you. You also cleaned you up super gently. They don’t just want to fuck you and have it over with. They never did. They knew you deserved way better than that. “So, you aren’t just going to leave us, are you?” Seonghwa asked with a cute little pout. You shake your head and held onto him. “Nope. Not right now at least. I probably can’t walk always so I’m here for now.” They both laughed along with you and mingi scooted closer to you to snuggle you also. You enjoyed their affection. They were so sweet to you and made sure you were comfortable before falling asleep. You were going to miss them and they were going to miss you also. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to miss them too much because they planned to beg their management to recruit you into their company.

[silv3rswirls]

Sweet Thing

Requests are open, desperately in need of some more Yandere/dark requests <3

my masterlist for these kinds of fics

Summary: Sweet thing; mourning lamb. Believe him good or evil, or somewhere in between. He doesn’t care, what’s done is done.

warnings: dark yoongi, cults, religious themes, abuse of power, sex, mentions of virginity, corruption kink, mentions of mental health, manipulation, coercion, dead animals, blood, carcass. Can you tell I love a good sacrificial lamb theme

fic playlist for vibes

note: Requested by an anon, I hope you like it <3

You covered your mouth with your hands, your stomach churning and your dinner threatening to come back up.

You didn’t mind the role you played here, enjoyed it even. Until it was time to clean up the mess left behind. Why make the ones who raise the lamb clean its remains? You looked at the table, watching the slow drip of blood fall onto the floor. The room is empty and dark; earlier it had been filled to the brim and bustling with followers. Everyone seemed to like watching the sacrifice, listening to the father rant and rave all night.

You swallowed, filling tears threatening to brim your eyes as you forced your body to approach the animal’s body. 

You loved taking care of the animals. It was your job, along with a few of the other young girls and older women. Everyone had a job. Everyone in the father’s flock contributed. It was one of the many rules you had been presented when coming into their group. You had only been a part of the flock for about a year now, maybe a little less. It was hard to keep track without phones: no television, no internet, and no socializing with the outside world. Only the trusted members of father’s council could. There was a man that ran the organization's webpage, he had the only computer in the compound. The rest of the men that Father surrounded himself with also had phones, allowance to leave, and other perks for being more devoted, you supposed? 

All you really knew was that you didn’t, and likely never would have those kinds of gifts here. You were new, too young, and didn’t know enough about father’s words. You weren’t sure if you ever would. You liked it here, but it was confusing sometimes. Maybe you just needed to pay more attention. 

You hadn’t been looking for the word of father at the time. You had been heading home after another failed job interview. Anxiously waiting for the train home, watching the crowds of city goers weave around each other. 

You didn’t attend college, and your marks in school had never been the best. It was getting harder to find jobs to apply to now. No one wanted you. Not educated enough, and seemed to demure and slow to think in your interviews. At least, that’s what one particularly rude man had told you at the end of one. You didn’t even want to work, your family was pushing you. You couldn’t make them understand what was happening inside you. You couldn’t even explain it to yourself, let alone articulate the abstract happening in your head. 

Your train was running late, you looked down at the folded flier in your hand. A man had practically forced you to take it from him. You were used to seeing it; crazy people out this time of night trying to recruit people to their schemes.

You unfold it, looking at the paper that spared little information on their group. Not a cult, they insisted with a laugh. An organization for those who felt lost, and needed help and guidance. 

“We take care of each other, we’re family.” 

There was a code hidden on the flier, if you could solve it you would gain access to their website. You went home that night, and two days later you had solved it. Not long after you found yourself wandering out to meet with them. The rest had unfolded so fast, so smoothly. You pretend, as we often do. You were pretending to be an ignorant cynic. Terrified of waiting, or wanting something that you may never get. Daring to dream for anything more than what was on the platter life presented to you at birth. You hardly noticed the change, and soon the remnants of your old life faded. Father’s words set in, rooted inside your being. You liked him, and everyone here. You had never heard of Father’s God, but you didn’t mind turning to him just to have someone to take care of you.

You closed your eyes and scooped up the lamb, setting it in your wagon. You turned back to the blood smeared over the stone table and began to scrub.

It took a long time. Your arms felt like jelly and your back hurt from hunching over. It was washed and dry for the most part, but the past stains of blood remained. Faint traces left over from years of the same ceremony. You looked around the empty, dark room. Everyone else had left by now; your tasks always took the longest. The windows here were stained so dark even during daylight you couldn’t tell if it was light or dark out. It was late though. Most of the candles stacked around the room had burnt out, a few stays remained flickering.

You stood up, giving a big stretch and turning back to the lamb's body. When you saw the dead little lamb you could feel yourself starting to cry again. Too wrapped up in your woes, you hardly noticed the gentle click of the room’s door closing. Soft footsteps slowly make their way towards you. A comforting hand brushed against your back, murmuring slowly about how your tears should be of joy. Their sacrifice would make your life better, this would lay yet another small stepping stone to the future Father was building for everyone here.

The voice, so smooth and quiet, you recognized. Min Yoongi, a man you had never spoken to before about a month ago. He seemed to be good friends with father and was one of the higher-ranking members of the organization. He had taken notice of you on one of his many walks through the meadows you and the other girls watched over the lamb. He had come, snaking through the thick grass and wildflower, stopping just to look down at you. Asked about how much you liked the animals, made small talk, and came back every day afterward to keep talking.

It was odd at first. You were never sure of what to say or do in his presence. He seemed a bit untouchable during the rare moments you caught sight of him. Standing up there with father, and six other men. Men who felt like gods at his side. But he was persistent, and he liked you. 

“We’ve talked about this” he smiled at you, his thumb tracing your cheek to push the tears aside. You nodded, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Did you miss me?” He asks, his smile a bit cheeky as he waits for you to nod. You do. You missed him the past few days and have grown used to his presence. You weren’t sure about the feelings you held for him though. It was confusing, as was everything else in your head. But you liked him, liked the way he would kiss you just out of sight of everyone else. How he would guide you to his room some nights and spend hours basking upon you.

Yoongi moves in to kiss you, to which you meet him and return it. He smiles again, “have you thought about what I said the last time we met?”

You hesitantly nod. “I’m just not sure…I mean, father wouldn’t be happy if we were caught, right?”

Yoongi scoffs, laughing a bit as he looks around. “Baby, he doesn’t care what I do.” 

“And what about what I do?” You frown. You hated the way Yoongi could insinuate that he was above everyone else. Maybe he was, maybe father didn’t care what he and the other higher ranks did. Maybe they were favored, you just didn't want to think about it. But there were rules. Rules everyone here was expected to follow. Did father rules apply to him, you wondered for another moment. He would decide who got together for marriage; God would tell him. But, did it matter if it was him? Did it matter to who he chose to be close to? 

Would Yoongi marry you?

You looked up at him when he stood, peering through your eyelashes nervously. You liked Yoongi, he made it hard not to like him. 

“Just lay down here, come on.” He coaxed. Yoongi wet his lips, his eyes fixed on you. He wanted you. Wanted more than kissing and holding you, he was getting bored of it. He wanted you to lay back for him, let his hands roam your body, peel back your clothing, and trace every soft inch of your skin. 

Your will tetters and grows tighter as you lay back for him, finally snapping when he gives you one last reassuring smile. You try to relax, ignore the faint stain of lamb blood under you. “Exciting, right?” He asked and you nodded, your stomach swirled with excitement for him and anxiety for the room surrounding you. You wanted him, you had never felt such an urge for someone before in your life. Guys never looked at you before, and when you joined Father’s word it was far from everyone’s mind here. But Yoongi had been trying, peeling away every reserved and anxious layer on your body. He poked and prodded, his interest was never a secret.

He got close and kissed your cheek rather than your lips again. Then your jaw, just under your ear, then your neck. The way he moved, feverish but restrained, his breath hot and lips tracing your neck. He would stop and peck, and bite. It felt like he was trying to get to your throat, bite it open to listen to your secrets and hushed words spill out. Everything goes blurry when you experience him, you aren’t sure why or how. You wanted him, but here? Your eyes scan the room again. A sacred place like this, laying on the same table the pierced lamb on. Yoongi wanted it to be here, were you his lamb now? 

You unbutton your blouse for him, growing meek under his hard stare. His hands are cold as they run up your ribs, stopping just at your breast. 

Yoongi's breath hitched in excitement. How long had it been since he’d been with someone? A few months maybe. While you, he knew, had never been with anyone. He wouldn't admit aloud that that was what attracted him to you. The meek, reserved vibe you gave off. He liked women like that, he liked walking the fields and searching for his next. 

He loved it. Watching you shrink under him, turn away, try to cover yourself up in embarrassment under his hungry eye. The noises you made, noises you likely hadn’t made before. Your legs around him, pulling him closer. His hips pressed against yours, how eager you are, how you would look back at him. 

“Thank me for picking you. Come on say it again, thank me.” His breath hitched hearing your voice. So perfect for him at this moment.

“Thank you” you managed to get out between breathy moans. Your arms around him, tight and desperate to hold on. His face pressed into the crook of your neck. Teeth sinking into your skin, soft violent marks left in his wake. 

Was it poetic in some odd way to be taken on an altar of sacrifice? You’re head lulled back, your throat exposed for him to press hot kisses to and nip at. You looked up at the ceiling. The same stained panes of glass circled above you. The faint spears of moonlight leak in. The candles burned out as the seconds passed. 

“My sweet lamb.” He hissed, “So perfect for me.” His body dropped closer to yours. His mouth latched to your shoulder sucking marks onto it. “You’ve been waiting for me to come, right?” His fingertips press into your hips, kneading the soft flesh, nails pricking your skin. 

Was that all you were? An animal, standing alone in a clearing waiting for its mother to return. Fawns do that. A young doe placed among flowers to wait for her mother, or anyone really to return for it. Placid and waiting, like now. Waiting for him, or someone else? Your mother, when was the last you had seen her? Talked to her, was she waiting still? Did she know about you, what you were up to? Had she left or had someone taken you, you couldn’t tell anymore. Your memories were blurry. How have you found your way here again?

What had you thought when you first met the recruiters? You couldn’t remember. And when you were sentenced to the farm, slaving away for the lamb. Was that better than your old life at home? What had been your old life anyway? And him; what of him? When he walked the fields until finding you. You looked at him, and you knew he wasn’t the one you were waiting on. But everything was cold, and warmth was warmth. Had you been left there, but by who? God? Fathers God, or God himself? What had he done to find you; why had you sat patiently waiting.

“Sweet thing, little lamb” Yoongi’s breathless, eyes clouded as he looked down at you. Your chest rising and falling, your breath still trying to find you again. He gets off of you, but you take a second to lay there to soak up the feeling. Yoongi, how good he had felt, yet how much anxiety weighed your stomach. You could feel him on you, sticky against your inner thighs. Dripping from you, onto the altar. Thick and sticky, you would have to scrub the table off once more tonight. 

Yoongi finishes fixing himself up and moves back to you. Standing over you, eyes piercing your being once again. He twirls a piece of your hair gently between his fingers. “Sweet thing” he grinned, more to himself than you. “Finish up here, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You feel him tilt your head towards him. His lips pressed against yours one last time. You watch him go, and the stark silence of the room rings in your ears.

What fear a man like him, and those around him brings upon those like you. A woman like you and the unfortunate circumstances thrust upon you in early childhood. You didn’t want him to look at you anymore, and he could see it. In your eyes, he keeps looking. Eyes so dark, yet bright. You can see them, even through the thick darkness of the room. He was there when you spilled your first blood, and now your second. Standing, looking. No good, no evil, he was simply him; man, being, animal, serpent- whatever he was and would continue to be well after you.

taglist: @aft3rhrs

[82mitsu]

{18Trip} <PROLOGUE SIDE-A: Still blank> 000-A08 The biggest bet of one’s life

A translation of 18TRIP's PROLOGUE SIDE-A by 82mitsu. ENG proofreading by sasaranurude. Note: this is the final chapter of the prologue.

Kafka: ……

Kaede: Kafka? Hey, what’s wro—-

(Loud popping noise)

Kaeda: Uwawgh!?

Kafka: Congrats Kaede-chan!

Kaede: Huh, what…!?

Kafka: My company has decided to hire you~!

Kaede: Hweh, eh?

Sakujiro: Congratulations. I believe this has taken you around 5 hours. As expected from Kaede-san.

Kaede: Sakujiro-san!? Eh, where did you… why…?

Kaede: Also, you said “my company”... as in Kafka’s company?

Kafka: Fufufu… Surprised, aren’t you. Here, look at this.

Kaede: What…? Documents?

Kafka: Yeah. Registration documents for the company I created.

Kaede: Registration… I can’t keep up with what’s happening, but… did you really—a company…?

Kaede: What’s this mission statement thingie right here?

Kafka: Management philosophy, or maybe… the guidelines for what ideas you want to realize, perhaps I should say.

Kaede: In other words, what you want to achieve by making the company?

Kafka: Exactly that!

Kafka: Do you remember the first time you went on a trip? What you were wishing for, with who, and where you went? 

Kafka: A heart-pounding experience, a chance encounter… There might've been some unforeseen trouble, too.

Kafka: However, none of these things can be experienced unless you take that first step forward to embark on a trip.

Kafka: Where should you go? What should you do? What should you take with you? Together with who—? 

Kafka: All the people that yearn to see the world, and those who haven’t had a taste of traveling yet, HAMA receives with open arms.

Kafka: Hoping one day your heart will grow warm when memories resurface, as if it’s reaching out to give you courage.

Kafka: A trip to the HAMA that’s kept close, and loved. To take your hand and lead you there—

Kafka: That is…

Kaede & Kafka: Hama Tours

Kaede: Kafka, this is…

Kafka: Say, Kaede-chan.

Kafka: Today, you felt it when going around HAMA, didn’t you? In the past, how it differs from the first trip that you gifted me… That the HAMA we know now—it's in a tough spot.

Kafka: I’m no longer that ill person waiting for Kaede-chan’s tales of traveling.

Kafka: I’ll wager all that’s left of my life, and bring HAMA back on its feet. And in order to achieve that, I need you. That’s why…

Kafka: So, Kaede-chan, bet your whole life on me too.

Kaede: Kafka…

Kaede: (The whole time, no matter where I was, I could always feel a tiny bit of regret. Wondering if this is really the kind of job I wanted to do. Even though travel work is what I yearned for, these feelings that I had—)

Kaede: (Were ones of wanting to make someone smile, from a trip to HAMA. That’s what was left of them. —A trip like the one I gave to Kafka that day.)

Kaede: –I’ll place a bet. 

Kaede: On Kafka, on the work to bring HAMA back, I’ll bet my whole life!

Kafka: …Really? You mean it?

Kaede: Without a doubt.

Kafka: And it… isn’t it because you pity me? Wanting to “help” someone as miserable as me…That’s not how you feel, right?”

Kaede: No! Not a chance I’d ever think that.

Kaede: I, honestly, have been frustrated the entire time. Seeing HAMA drained of color compared to how it was… How it’s helpless, lifeless. 

Kaede: But all I could do was absentmindedly stare. That’s why… you’re truly amazing.

Kaede: Thanks to you, I’ll be able to do something for the sake of HAMA, too. I’ve never been this happy before. 

Kafka: Right… yeah. Right!

Kafka: Seems like I won after going all out, one way or another. 

Kaede: Hm? What are you talking about?

Kafka: Nothing at all.

Sakujiro: ……

Kaede: Um, so then… what now? Actually, what should I do first?

Kafka: Oh? You’re sure fired up~ Kaede-chan. How admirable!

Kaede: Obviously I am! Because…

Kaede: (I feel like I finally found the kind of job I wanted to do. And, most importantly, it’s the same one as Kafka’s.)

Kaede: (Reading HAMA Tours’ mission statement makes it all clear. How it's the same as me… How the trip we took together that day made Kafka who he is today!)

Kaede: Either way! I’ll do anything! And when do we start… Ah, that’s right. I’ll work myself to the bone if it’s from next week on.

Kaede: That unemployment really came at the right time…

Kafka: Yeah, I knew.

Kaede: Eh…  Did I… talk about how the company went out of business?

Kafka: Fufu, makes you wonder. The planets really aligned for this one, didn’t they.

Sakujiro: Young Master, it’s getting time…

Sakujiro: Your body will get cold.

Kafka: …

Kafka: I love the rain. No matter who it is, the raindrops will fall the same onto everyone. Besides—

Kafka: The coldness that has never stopped raining onto me will, at last, clear up tomorrow.

Kaede: Tomorrow? Is there something tomorrow?

Kafka: Yeah. My surgery.

Kaede: Wha….? Surgery… Surgery!? But Kafka, on PeChat, you said it was over…

Kafka: That was a lie.

Kafka: YOU LIED!? But, Sakujiro-san was also…

Sakujiro: My deepest condolences. This very Sakujiro’s 879th special skill is Co-Conspirator in No Time.

Kaede: Unbelievable….

Kaede: Wait, not that part!

Kaede: Even though your surgery is tomorrow, you went out, and now you're sitting in the pouring rain like this…! 

Kaede: Put on this jacket! And then a towel, towel… Ah, I have a handkerchief. Here use this to dry yourself off immediately—

Kafka: Ahaha! You’re panicking all over the place, Kaede-chan.

Kaede: Of course I’m panicking! This is no laughing matter, you know!?

Kafka: It is something to laugh about, c’mon.

Kafka: I won a bet I placed with my whole life, so I’m invincible now. No matter what the success rate for my surgery is, there’s no way I’d lose…

Kafka: I absolutely won’t die.

Kaede: I do believe that but… Kafka, why are you that confident about it?

Kafka: Because of the courage you gave to me.

Kaede: I did…?

Kafka: I’m done with just gazing through the window at the world you live in.

Kafka: I won’t let you leave me behind anymore, and I won’t wait for you either.

Kafka: From now on we’ll be equals, standing side-by-side, walking forward while being on the same page.

Kafka: It’s likely that… not everything will be alright. Just like that one trip we took back then, we can end up getting lost, not be able to make it to the observation deck because we didn’t have the money, things like these might happen, too.

Kaede: Yeah, you’re right. But…

Kaede: When that happens, we’ll look for somewhere else.

Kaede: Even if we didn’t get to the observation deck that day, the view of the evening colors from this building was breathtakingly out of this world, wasn’t it?

Kafka: Yeah… it’s exactly as you say.

Kafka: That’s why, Kaede-chan—

Kafka: Let’s go on a trip, together!

<<previous chapter / next chapter>>

prologue directory: A01 / A02 / A03 / A04 / A05 / A06 / A07 / A08 (x)

[murdrdocs]

ethan landry is perfect for romcoms.

ethan landry in a meet cute romcom. he spills coffee on your shirt when you have an interview for a job that would make your college experience tolerable. your shirt is white, pristine, perfect for the interview, and now it has a damp brown spot over your chest that you don't have time to fix. he apologizes profusely, and you let out a clenched "its fine" because you have to run back to your place and change. you're late for the interview, but it goes well, and you see ethan in a dining hall that afternoon and he looks like a deer in headlights when he sees you. he offers to buy you dinner, you accept, and the entire thing spirals from there.

ethan landry in a friends to lovers romcom. he's been your neighbor, and close friend, for years. you've always been closer to his sister, quinn, but the summer between your years of college when you're both home, a little more mature and willing to explore, changes things. through beach days, pool days, lake days, country club days, and movie nights, you grow closer and closer, emotionally and physically. and there's one night where you go to a party, and you're disrespected by some douche, leaving ethan to defend your honor, and suddenly you're kissing him in his car as a thank you before he drops you off next door. you're a little tipsy, he can taste it on your tongue, which brews a misunderstanding that isn't completely cleared up until the week before you're both due for move in. but there's always next summer. you both promise.

ethan landry in a hallmark romcom. your old friend from high school, the guy you hooked up with on the night of senior prom, and the guy you tried to forget as you went to college. now graduated and heading into the Real-Real World, you're back in your hometown for christmas after your december graduation and you just so happen to run into him at the place you both bonded over at 16. you share a coffee and a bite to eat, and can't help but notice how much he's filled out over the years. he helps you buy a tree, and helps you decorate. he goes gift shopping with you, and vents about how horrible he is at wrapping. he watches you as you teach him, and you start to notice just how he's looking at you. and it all comes to a head on new years eve when he finally kisses you just as the fireworks go off.

ethan in a "the bet" romcom. he went from the gapped tooth kid on the playground who used to do treasure hunts with you, to the jock who's best friends with the schools alpha, chad meeks-martin. you've stayed mostly the same, finding comfort with mindy meeks-martin, chad's twin sister. you're still in the same orbit, but far enough from each other to barely even give small smiles and waves. but suddenly he's really into you, asking you to homecoming, giving you his varsity jacket, taking you to sonic late at night to share oreo blasts with you. it's everything 8 year old you wanted, until you find out the truth after hanging out with his friends. they're laughing, 'ooo'ing, taunting you about being so dumb, and the only boys who look a little upset are chad and ethan. ethan's trying to apologize or explain, but you don't let him, reluctantly getting in the car with chad –– who you're also upset with because he knew –– who takes you to mindy, a shoulder you finally let yourself cry on.

ethan (and chad) in a love triangle romcom, the summer i turned pretty style. spending a summer on the island that your best friends have permanent homes on. you're torn between catching up with chad and ethan. your feelings are torn between chad and ethan. one a jock, everything young you ever dreamed of as you stared at posters of channing tatum during his modeling days. chad is suave, charming, experienced. and the other a little more nerdy. ethan is adorably awkward, a little timid, but he clearly cares about you so much. he's gotten so buff since the last time you visited, and his hair has gotten so curly and you just admire how pretty his teeth are without the braces you used to make fun of. late nights stargazing with ethan where he holds your cold hand up to point out constellations. nights at the local diner with chad where he tells you to order whatever you want and he gives you quarters to put into the jukebox. early mornings with ethan where he takes you with his dad to go fishing. early mornings with chad where he takes you surfing, giggling (and shirtless) as he teaches you the ins and outs. going to a kegger on the beach with both of their sisters, running into each boy separately, then together, all of the tension colliding in the moment where you stand far enough from the fire to not hear the chatter of teenagers. it's cold, the wind blows against you, they both offer their jackets, and you're left standing in the middle, trying to decide where to reach your hand.

[therobotmonster]

So many kid's toys these days just. Arn't fun. They're designed to be COLLECTED rather than PLAYED with. Everything is a fucking blindbag. Materials are flimsy and cheap and designs don't hold up to an actual child throwing them around. And it's all so EXPENSIVE, even accounting for inflation.

To expand on my thoughts here, I'm unrolling a Twitter thread I made about this trend. (with some additions)

The Big H's handling of mainline figs is... distressing, of late. Very little push for show mains, oversupport of already saturated legacy characters, and some frankly unsettling engineering and materials choices (esp in Cyberverse).

Increase in overall fragility, thinner parts, styrene-on-styrene joints that will go floppy in a few months of light play, very little "clicks" or locks solidly... the passion is clearly in the collector's end, and that's just bass ackwards.

This repugnus would have been amazing triumph from Mego in 1970s. But for a mainline big H TF line in the 2020s? This is a backslide. And before anyone brings up that it's from the kids' line, that's the point. They're KIDS, they should get MORE care and effort in their merch.

Every toy you make might be a kid's only birthday gift or holiday present. Toys are /given/ to children, and if the work is subpar, you make a chump out of grandma. You won't be there to blame if it breaks or disappoints.

It seriously drives me nuts seeing how far the stuff-for-kids industries have fallen. There's no brands without the work, but as the poet DMX said: "these cats done forgot what work is."

All your blockbuster superhero empires start in the pulp gutters. Compared to the movies toys, games and comics will never be profitable ENOUGH to be worth it on a billion-dollar scale ledger.

"Give me mighty oaks! There's no profit in acorns!"

If you want the stuff that makes the Michael Bay blockbuster, you have to start with the stupid goofy cartoon no one had seen before where anxiety over the oil crisis was acted out by robotic Punch and Judy puppets. How many studios would greenlight TMNT or TF sight unseen today?

If you make toys and cartoons and video games, your job is to make kids happy. How is that not sacred? If anything is sacred it should be that.

Art is the act of evoking emotion, and fun is an emotion (what else could it be described as?) and it is SO IMPORTANT.

I fear that gets lost in the "what to do over next?" rush. Every artist at those companies has a dozen amazing ideas in their back pocket that won't get a chance to become the next Transformers because a studio is terrified they'll make Jayce and the Wheeled Warriors instead.

Since the world is run by Captain Planet villains, I wouldn't bat an eye if we found out venture capital was a ploy by some disgruntled warlock who just hates the goddamn Care Bears.

Just some dick at Bear Sterns singing "There's no room for joy on a spreadsheet" to a weaselly sidekick.

Cuz guys, we've got companies that make GAMES for CHILDREN hiring the Pinkertons. I repeat. Games. For. Children. That's not normal. That's not a normal thing. That is a very disturbing thing.

And its hard to even discuss without sounding like a frickin' Care Bear myself. Because how do you sum up the creeping dread that the support beams are being mined thin, and everything fun for kids will go the way of Toys-R-Us, dragged down like Artax.

I'm not advocating pure altruism here. There's plenty of money to be made giving kids an awesome experience. It's investing in future fandom. Real Brand loyalty. If you want the blockbuster 15 years from now, get them hooked on the fun cartoon now. The value-add always pays off.

For every Transformers or He-Man there's going to be several Robotix-es or Power Lords. That's a risk. A risk worth taking. New ideas should be easier and cheaper to bring to fruition now than ever. But the system won't let it happen.

[stobinesque]

A Cure for All That Ails You 🥪

For Lex's Spicy Six Summer Challenge! Thanks so much for putting this together, @thefreakandthehair! rating: T | wc: 6k | cw: none | tags: Stobin, Fluff, Post-season 3 prompt: “How did you go through life so far without knowing how to make a grilled cheese sandwich?” I took inspiration from the recipe in this post when writing the fic. I have also been informed by my partner that reading this may, in fact, make you want a grilled cheese, so there's a recipe handy if you need to sate your hunger afterwards. [ READ ON AO3 ]

Light slants in through the window at too sharp an angle, and Robin blinks away the blurriness from her eyes. Her head is bent at an awkward angle, tucked into the crook of Steve’s neck. He’s snoring loudly in her ear.

Robin pushes herself upright on unsteady elbows. Most of the achiness in her muscles has faded by now. The worst of her injuries had been some whiplash, and the persistent ringing in her ears from the fireworks.

She looks down at Steve—his bruises are still healing, a mottled yellow-green painting his eye socket and cheekbone. That’s the least of it. She knows there’s worse hidden below the blanket from the cracked ribs he’d gotten up from the Russians.

It’s been five days.

Robin stares down at her hands where they’re folded in her lap. She squeezes them into fists. Stretches them wide. Tries to convince herself that she can connect sight and sensation to the fact of her body’s existence.

It’s been five days.

She’s alive.

Slotting herself back into the world that she’d known before she plummeted into the depths of the earth has felt impossible.

Though maybe that’s because there’s nothing left to slot herself into.

No school to return to, yet. No job to speak of—its remains a pile of rubble at the outskirts of town. No friends who know what happened.

No old friends, anyway.

There’s Steve.

He doesn’t quite feel like a friend though. He’s something…more. Something that exists beyond her understanding of what friendship or even love used to be. She’s never had a sibling—never wanted a sibling—and neither has Steve, so neither of them know enough to gauge if the weird, intense bond that’s sprouted between is sibling-like in nature. But it doesn’t feel like something so simple as that. She feels at once like she chose him, and like he was a gift to her from the universe.

It’s been five days. And he’s already the most important person in her life.

Robin sighs, and squeezes her eyes shut again, listening to the echoing silence of her house. It’s Tuesday. Her parents had taken the first few days after Starcourt off to help take care of her and Steve. Not that they were necessarily a huge help. But they’d made soup, and helped Steve with his bandages when needed. And it was just…nice to have them around. Their presence was grounding. Not so much because they were an especially calming pair, and more because their existence was so fundamentally at odds with the remembered atmosphere of the bunker and the tunnels, that seeing and hearing them made it almost impossible for Robin to forget where she was.

But today is their first day back at work, and the silence feels tangible. If she closes her eyes for too long she’ll be back in that cell, hands tied together, while a man spits sludge at her and asks what she knows; threatens to hurt her little friend if she doesn’t give up the intel he needs. Never touches her, never hurts her, but speaks with a glint in his eyes and a leer on his face that sets her teeth on edge and makes her stomach flip.

It’s been five days.

“Steve.” Her voice is hoarse, desperately scraping up her throat. She wants to hold his hand— rain bearing down, staring blankly at joined hands, linked fingers as her heart races—“Steve.”

Steve’s head rocks back and forth, and a small whine escapes him as he stretches and blinks against light. “Robs?” he voices is soft and slurry; it almost makes her smile.

“Morning, sleepy head.”

“Mmph.” He sits up, squinting heavily as he stares at her. His hair is all mussed, sticking up in every direction, and a thump of fondness beats in her chest, because she’s pretty sure that there aren’t many other people who get to see Steve “The Hair” Harrington without his signature coif. Maybe she should feel bad that she’s having such a stereotypical straight girl thought about it, but it’s not like she’s happy he’s in love with her or anything, it’s just…he’s hers now, and the way he’s trusting her like this makes her think that maybe she’s his now, too.

She’s never been another person’s favorite person before.

Her parents like her, sure. Love her, even. But she’s pretty sure she’s not their favorite person. She’s too anxious. Too loud, in the wrong ways, and never quiet in the right ones. She thought at one point she was Barb’s favorite person, but then Nancy came along and you can’t exactly ditch someone as easily as Barb ditched her if they’re your favorite person, right?

God, she needs to think about literally anything else right now.

“I’m hungry.”

Steve’s stomach growls the moment she says it. He scrubs a hand over his face and glares into the open air, like he’s offended his body has physical needs. “Me too, apparently.” He pushes himself upright, looking around the room. “‘time is it?”

Robin glances over at her clock. “Eleven.”

“Ugh. I want to sleep forever.” Instead, he pushes himself up and to a standing position. “C’mon, let’s go make some breakfast.” He reaches out a hand to her, and she accepts it with a decisive nod.

“That sounds like a great idea. Although I’m really more in the mood for lunch fare? At the very least something heartier than breakfast. Well, not heartier, because really a good breakfast should be pretty hearty since you’re eating for the first time in several hours and your body needs the extra boost. But, still, breakfast foods are so limiting, you know? Like, why are pancakes only a breakfast food? And eggs? I guess eggs can be an anytime food, but they’re usually a breakfast food, and for some reason there are some types of egg preparation that are extra especially breakfast-food-only. Like, who’s ever had an omelet for dinner, you know?”

“Robin.”

“Yeah?”

Steve stares at her for a beat, and for a second her heart rate kicks up—like going on some dumb little monologue about breakfast food is going to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back and makes him realize he doesn’t want such a weirdo for a friend.

He smiles. “I love you.”

Robin thinks she should balk at that. He’d just confessed to having a crush on her five days ago. She doesn’t want them to go on with him carrying a torch for her that she’ll never be able to accept.

But… Well. Robin’s not exactly an expert on romance. Even less an expert on reading people. But she thinks she’s figured out the secret code to Steve Harrington, and he’s not looking at her with tortured, lovelorn puppy eyes. He’s looking at her like she’s the sun. Like she’s some miraculous thing. But there’s nothing romantic there. He’s not staring at her mouth, or her chest. He’s looking at her like she’s nothing more and nothing less than the best thing he’s ever seen, and like that would be true no matter what she looked like.

She shakes her head. Smiles. “Love you too, dingo.”

“That one’s new.”

Robin shrugs. “Just possibly watching you take a bunch of punches to the gut from Russian spies made me feel like ‘dingus’ was a tad unfair.”

Steve laughs. “I’m flattered, but you can call me dingus all you want.”

“Okay then, dingus. What’s for breakfast-lunch then?”

“I think that’s just called ‘brunch,’ Bobs. But, um…how about soup and grilled cheese?”

“Only if you’re cooking, or want cold cheese on toast.”

Steve stops in his tracks and turns to stare at her. “Robs…do you not know how to make a grilled cheese sandwich?”

Robin shakes her head, feeling her cheeks warm a little. She’s more than capable of fending for herself when it comes to food. Can even cook a couple of staples. And she’s great when it comes to baking, and recipes with highly detailed instructions. But grilled cheese always felt like one of those kinds of things that are deceptively complicated. Like the fact that it’s supposed to be so simple is exactly the thing making it so hard. She was certain if she ever tried it’d come out a half-burnt, half-unmelted-cheese mess. “No…?”

“How did you go through life so far without knowing how to make a grilled cheese sandwich?” Steve looks genuinely distressed by this newfound knowledge.

Robin shrugs. “Never seemed important, I guess. Never really liked them when my mom made them, so I never bothered to figure out how, even once I realized that you can make them with cheese that isn’t glorified plastic.”

Steve gives her a despairing look. “Please don’t tell me your only experience of grilled cheeses have been ones made with Kraft singles.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you!” She says brightly.

Steve looks to be on the brink of tears.

“Hey…it’s okay, Steve. I promise you can pop my good-grilled-cheese cherry!”

Steve’s expression, if anything, grows even more pained. “Please, for the love of God, do not put it like that.”

Robin just grins at him, watching as he opens her fridge to take a look around. He rummages around for far longer than seems necessary for sussing out ingredients for a grilled cheese, but maybe he’s just taking stock of the contents for later? He comes back bearing all the cheeses currently residing in the Buckley fridge (sans the package of Kraft singles): a sharp cheddar, pepper jack, muenster, and swiss. He sets them down on the counter in front of them “Okay, pick one to three of these.”

Robin throws him a skeptical look, but points to the pepper jack and the muenster.

“Beautiful, okay. Now, lets see…” Steve sweeps his gaze across the kitchen, taking stock of the cabinets. He makes for the narrow one crammed between the stove and the sink, pulling it open to reveal the small stock of spices. He moans in disappointment. “I’m taking you grocery shopping after this. This is pathetic, Buckley. What do you all even eat?”

Robin shrugs, feeling a little self-conscious. “Mostly pasta, and sometimes roasted veggies, I guess?”

Steve turns to look at her, and his gaze is a little too sharp. A lot too knowing. The semi-judgmental look drops from his face, and is replaced by something more…tender? “Okay, yeah, me too, until I figured out how to cook for myself. My parents weren’t really into the whole ‘family meal’ thing.”

Robin shrugs. “Mine either.”

Steve looks surprised. “Really? But…I don’t know, they seem like they’d be into that kind of thing.”

Robin snorts. “What makes you say that?”

“Your parents seem to actually like spending time with you.”

“Do they?” Robin’s never gotten the sense that they hate being around her or anything. But sometimes she feels more like an inconvenient stray they took in than their kid.

Steve shrugs; stares down at his feet. “More than mine, anyway.”

“Yeah, well. Something tells me that’s not a high bar to clear.” Robin doesn’t know much about Mr. and Mrs. Harrington, but the fact that it’s been nearly a week since their son almost died and she’s seen neither hide nor hair of them speaks for itself. “But, no, my parents think that family meals and the ‘standard nuclear family’ are capitalist propaganda designed to create corporate drones who will destroy the planet. So. No family dinners. I don’t think it ever occurred to them that the reason some people do it is to have an organized reason to spend time with their family.” Robin tilts her head, considering. “Then again, they aren’t really into ‘organization’ in general.”

Steve nods with a small frown. “So…we both have fucked up parents, but in directly opposing ways?”

Robin hesitates. “I don’t know if I’d call them ‘fucked up,’ but they’re definitely not what you’d call functional parents, no.”

“Well, it’s a travesty that you’ve made it through 17 years on this planet without a proper grilled cheese, so I’m going to do the best I can with your meager offerings, and then we’re going to go shopping so that you’re armed to the teeth for any future grilled-cheese-making expenditures you may wish to embark on.”

Robin raises an eyebrow and shoots him a look. “I think Dustin’s rubbing off on you, buddy.”

Steve blinks and visibly plays back what he just said. “I don’t know where any of that came from,” he whispers in a joking panic.

Robin pats him on the shoulder. “It’s alright. Comes with the territory of befriending someone with an obnoxiously large personality.”

Steve grins at her. “Looking forward to it.”

Robin’s heart turns to goo and the smile she shoots back at him feels like it might split her face in two. “Me too.” Robin places her hands on her hips and turns to stare at the spice shelf. “Now, what exactly do you think we’re lacking on the spice front?”

“Robin, I don’t think we have time for me to list every single thing this cabinet is missing.”

“Fine, then tell me the things you wish were in it right now.”

Steve sighs. “Red pepper flakes, for one—although I guess if we’re using pepper jack for this it’s less important. It still makes me despair for the food you’ve been making before now that you don’t have it, though. And, uh…I guess herbs other than oregano and basil? Those are fine, but some variety would be nice, you know? Where’s the sage? The thyme? The rosemary? I guess we can go with oregano for now, though.” He pulls the jar from the cabinet and sets it on the counter. “Other than that I guess this is all we need for now— Oh!” Steve grabs the container of black pepper from the cabinet and adds it to his pile of ingredients. He keeps staring up at the cabinet, hands on his hip, and a small little frown on his face. "I’m still definitely helping you all stock up, because even if you’re just eating pasta and veggies you should still be using more spices than you’ve got here.”

Robin stares at him. “Steve Harrington…are you a cooking nerd?”

Steve’s head whips around and he stares at her, mouth agape. “No? What? Take that back right now!”

Robin crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head. “Nuh-uh. You are, aren’t you? You taught yourself a bunch of cooking tricks and have them all memorized. You can launch off onto little rants about flavor profiles and culinary technique, can’t you? I bet you have cookbooks stashed under your bed, or something.”

Steve fish-faces at her, waving an accusatory finger in her direction. “I’m…you…how did you know that?”

Robin laughs, delighted. “Genuine guess. But you do? Oh, that’s delicious. Becoming friends with you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. The Steve Harrington lore is long and varied. You should be studied for science.” She throws her head back with a pleased cackle.

Steve is just staring at her, dumbfounded, a light dusting of pink on his face.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Steve shakes his head, and his eyes lose a little of the glassy quality they’d gained. “Nothing.” His hand reaches up to pinch at his nose for a second before falling away. “I just…do you mean that?”

“Do I mean what?”

“That being my friend is the best thing that’s ever happened to you?”

Robin blinks at him slowly. “Yeah? I mean the how of it wasn’t ideal, but even without the Russians we were already on our way here, right? The trauma just sort of…fast-forwarded it.”

“I…” Steve looks around the kitchen like he’s looking for an emergency exit. “Yeah. I guess.”

Robin feels her face fall. “Do you…do you not feel the same?”

“No! I mean, yes!! I just…” Steve rakes a frantic hand through his hair. “I’m not, uh, used to people liking me that much. I guess.”

Robin frowns. “What are you talking about, dingus? You were literally Hawkins Royalty!”

Steve huffs in frustration. “Yeah, but that’s not…being popular isn’t the same as people liking you, you know?” She doesn’t. Or, maybe she can guess, based on what he said in the bunker. But it still seems…wrong, somehow. Like everything she understood about the world is backwards.

Steve keeps talking, before her thoughts can spiral away from her. “Sure, I was popular. But my only actual friends were Tommy and Carol, and they…I mean, they weren’t bad friends, I guess? Terrible people, sure, but they were actually pretty…I mean, for all the fucked up shit…they always had my back?”

“Until you wanted to stop being a douchebag, you mean?”

Steve grimaces. “Yeah. I think they were…all three of us, really, were trapped in our own misery too much to let other people’s happiness pass without punishment. So I don’t think they liked when I tried to find some of my own.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

A part of Robin wants to ask What about Nancy? the question poised at the tip of her tongue. But he said himself that he’s not in love with her anymore. Robin’s not sure how much she believes that, because he seems pretty smitten whenever she comes up in conversation—not that it’s happened a whole lot in the week since The Bathroom. Then again, that’s also sort of how he talks about her, and Robin’s reasonably sure that his crush petered out about as quickly as it appeared. Once the drugs were out of his system he admitted that he hadn’t really thought of her like that until Dustin had suggested they’d be good together, and after her bathroom confession he realized that while he did love her, it wasn’t actually romantic.

She doesn’t know anything about how Steve and Nancy broke up, though. Doesn’t know what baggage is or isn’t there—maybe it was just a regular teenage break up; goodness knows she doesn’t trust the Hawkins’ rumor mill as far as she can throw it. But she does know that he didn’t offer any caveats to his initial declaration—I’m not used to people liking me—and Robin's not going to go around shining lights in dark corners unless he does so first.

Robin’s stomach growls.

“Okay, sappy hour’s over. I’ve got to eat something stat, or else I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”

Steve shakes his head like he’s shaking loose cobwebs and leaps into action. He’s not finished gathering ingredients, though, apparently. He bustles around the kitchen until he’s added the butter bell, a few cloves of garlic, a loaf of bread, and a small jar of honey to his haul.

“What the fuck.”

Steve points in her direction with the spatula he’s materialized out of nowhere. “Just trust me, Bobbin.”

Robin raises an eyebrow. “Last time I did that I wound up trapped in an elevator to a secret Russian base.”

“Ouch.” There’s a genuine grimace of pain on his face.

“Too soon?”

“Maybe just a little.”

“Sorry.”

“No worries.” Steve turns to the stove, where he’s already unearthed and deposited one of the two frying pans in the house. “Now, let’s get started. First things first: the butter. The goal is to make the outside of the sandwich as tasty as the inside of the sandwich, so you’ve got to find a way to imbue the bread with flavor.”

Robin nods along. “Sure. What’s that got to do with butter?”

“You’re killing me, Buckley,” he says with a beleaguered little groan. He gestures to the frying pan. “First we’ve gotta imbue the butter with some flavor, so that the bread can soak it all up—which is part of why I wanted pepper flakes, but we’ll just have to make do with herbs and black pepper, I guess.”

Robin watches as Steve takes what seems like an obscene amount of butter and plops it into the pan, followed by a small handful of the oregano, a couple shakes of pepper, and a pinch of salt. “Okay, so now we’re going to turn the heat on—at low, we don’t want to burn anything—and we’re just gonna let that sit a bit until the butter melts and we start to smell the oregano on the air.”

“So…we just stand here and watch?”

“You can stir a bit to encourage the butter to melt a little quicker. But otherwise, yeah. Leave it alone. Let the butter and the heat do their thing together.”

“And then what?”

“Well, that should take about a minute or two, so now we can work on assembling our sandwiches. Sadly, you’ve only got Wonder Bread. Next time I’ll pick up a loaf of sourdough or something from Giant Eagle.” Steve waves the spatula through the air. “Or maybe we can make a quick loaf together.”

“Ugh, I hate baking bread.”

“…you know how to bake bread, but not how to make a grilled cheese?”

“…yeah? Baking makes sense. It’s just instructions.”

“I…yeah, okay, that makes sense.” Steve pulls a couple slices of bread from the bag, and starts spreading honey onto each one. “So what’s wrong with baking bread?”

“It’s sticky, and kneading the dough takes so much time, and it’s never the right consistency. I prefer, like, cakes and stuff. Brownies are perfect. Cookies are okay.”

“So: batter over dough, got it.”

“Exactly.” Robin joins Steve in spreading honey onto two slices of her own. “So, why the honey?”

“The sweetness adds some depth of flavor. Honey, butter, and cheese is a flavor profile without compare.” Steve stares in the direction of the pan. “Oh, shit, I forgot the most important ingredient! The garlic. Okay, drop what you’re doing. I should have thought to say this when I was talking about the herbs! The whole point is you want to get all your aromatics going at once, and what is garlic if not the world’s single most powerful aromatic? Nothing, I tell you. Nothing. But that’s okay, we can salvage this.” Steve grabs a couple cloves of garlic, a knife and just fucking…smashes the garlic with the flat of the blade.

“What the fuck…” Robin whispers to herself.

Steve just keeps moving like he isn’t getting up to absolute kitchen-wizardry, peeling away the papery skins from the cloves and tossing their mangled forms into the pan.

“We can give that another minute. The oregano might crisp up, but better to have crispy herbs and garlicky-butter than perfectly toasted herbs and sad, garlic-anemic butter.”

“I’ll just have to take your word on that, dude.”

Steve grins at her. “See, you do trust me.”

“Against my better judgment.” Robin deposits the second honeyed-bread slice on the plate in front of her. “Okay, what next?”

“Cheese!” Steve shakes out a few slices each of the pepper jack and muenster, layering them onto two of the four slices of bread spread out in front of them as the kitchen starts to fill with the scent of herbs and garlic. Robin’s cooked with garlic before, but usually she just chops it up and dumps it into the pot or pan along with everything else, so she’s never had the experience of smelling it on its own. She’s shocked by how much the scent makes it smell like a whole gourmet meal is already close to completion. She thinks back to every time she’s ever been over someone’s house while their mom was cooking and said something like wow, that smells great, Mrs. Johnson, and wonders if the only thing that’d actually been on the stove at that point was some garlic and herbs.

Robin shakes the thought from her head as she realizes Steve’s been monologuing. “…at this point you’ll want to turn the heat up a little.”

Robin nods again like she’s been following along this whole time. “Sure. Okay. Sandwich into butter, that makes sense.”

“Not sandwich time quite yet. Not a closed one, anyway. We want to be able to watch the cheese reach its melting point.” Steve drops two open-faced bread-with-cheese not-yet-sandwiches into the pan side by side, before reaching to turn the knob on the stove up to ‘5’. “Now we wait.”

Robin leans an elbow against the counter, staring intently at the sizzling pan. “How long?”

Steve shrugs. “Until the cheese starts to melt, or until it feels right. Some cheese melts more quickly, and some breads toast faster than others. You’re kind of aiming for the middle point of melty-cheese and golden-toasty-bread.”

Robin nods, and stares into the pan, fixated. Her grandmother’s voice floats through her head—a watched pot never boils, sweetheart. Robin knows it's an idiom, but she’s only ever had it said to her when she was literally watching a pot, waiting for it to boil. But Steve’s doing the same thing, watching as the garlic in the pan turns golden and crisp, and the butter bubbles and pops, and the edges of the bread begin to brown up.

Out of nowhere, she wishes there was music playing. She misses dancing around Scoops with him after close.

“What’re you humming?”

“Huh?” She hadn’t realized she’d been making any sound.

“The little,” Steve twirls a finger through the air and starts humming back at her, and Robin almost starts laughing.

“Apparently I was humming That’s What Friends Are For.” It had been on the songs on the closing mixtape they’d made together, but at the time she’d mostly added it as a joke.

Steve smiles at her, and it’s soft and cheesy, like the sandwiches sizzling away in the pan. He picks up the melody from her, extending a hand for hers.

“Steve, I’ve got two left feet.”

“Yeah, I know that, Robs,” he says, long-suffering, and takes her hand into his anyway. He resumes his humming, and yanks her into a little slow dance, spinning her around the kitchen like they’re two newly-weds, or care-free teenagers at the prom, blissfully unaware there are portals to hell beneath their feet. Except they’re better than that: two best friends dancing in the kitchen together after saving the world, while one of them teaches the other how to make a grilled cheese sandwich.

Robin takes over humming some of the lines when she thinks the song switches over from Dionne to Elton or Stevie—which she can’t quite bite back a snort at, when the thought drifts through her mind—and they carry on like that. They’re probably not really following the progression of the song, because neither of them are actually singing, but Robin has snatches of the lyrics running through her head as she concentrates on not stepping on Steve’s feet, and letting herself be dramatically dipped at odd intervals.

Steve hums the melody that Robin thinks matches up to knowing you can always count on me, and she finds herself leaning her head against his chest. His arms come up to wrap around her, and she burrows herself into his embrace. There are stupid little tears welling up at the corners of her eyes, but it barely even phases her. She feels no need to reach up and dash them away before someone can sniff out the sign of weakness. It feels silly, almost, to be so worked up about dancing around the kitchen in her sock-feet with this boy she’s barely known for a month, tentatively liked for a few weeks, and has loved for all of seven days. But that’s where she is, and she doesn’t think there’s any place she’d rather be.

Eventually Steve’s voice tapers off, and he slows them to a stop in the middle of the room. She stares up at him, her vision still a little blurry with tears. Steve’s looking down at her like she hung the moon, and leans in to press a kiss to her forehead. It sends the new tears spilling over, and she collapses back into him. “I’m so glad you made it out of there, dingus,” she says into his chest, right over his breastbone, his heartbeat thrumming against her lips.

“Yeah, me too, Bobby.” He squeezes his arms around her tight.

“…do you think the grilled cheeses are done now?” Her voice is still muffled from her face being buried against his chest. For all that she’s been swept away by emotion, she’s still really hungry.

“Mmm, well, it’d be hard for them to be done with only one slice of bread, but they might be ready to close and flip.”

Steve gently disentangles them and shuffles back over to the stove. The cheese does seem to be nicely melted now, and Steve hums in satisfaction, closing each sandwich with the other two honeyed slices of bread, before taking up the spatula again, and flipping each one with a little flourish. Robin cuts her eyes at him “Am I supposed to be impressed by that?”

Steve smirks. “Are you not?”

“Remains to be seen, Harrington. You might be all flair and no substance. The proof is in the pudding.”

“Well, they should be done in another few minutes, so you’ll get a chance to taste for yourself.”

The bread of the cooked side of the sandwich facing up at them is nicely crisped. Buttery and golden—almost brown in the center, and along the edges—and Robin can feel her mouth watering. She won’t say it until she knows for sure, but it certainly looks like one of the best things she’s ever tasted. She wants it in her mouth immediately.

“Cooking involves so much waiting,” she whines.

“So does baking.”

“Yeah, but unless you’re making bread, all of the waiting happens at the end. With cooking you’ve got all these mini waiting times: you’ve got to wait for the water to boil, or the pan to heat. You have to wait for something to cook the right amount before adding the next thing. You have to wait for the actual thing you’re cooking to cook enough on one side and then you’ve got to flip it and wait that same amount of time for it to cook evenly on the other side. It’s maddening! I don’t know how you do it.”

The corners of Steve’s mouth twitch. “I guess I’ve never thought of it like that. And it’s different with something like this, because this is pretty low on prep work. But with most things you always have stuff you can be doing during the waiting times. You have vegetables to chop, or you can get a head start on washing the dishes you used. If whatever you’re making involves having two pans or pots going you can time it so that you’re always doing something in at least one dish. And a lot of stuff involves active waiting. Like, you’ve got to stir the pot every now and then, or you have to slowly add something to the pan. And, I don’t know, I kind of like the pace of it. Having to keep track of all the little variables. It’s soothing.”

Robin squints at him. “You’re a weirdo, Steve Harrington.”

“Am not!”

“Are too! You’re a tiny little weirdo, who managed to convince the entire populace of Hawkins that you’re a cookie-cutter little rich boy. I’m almost impressed.” Robin pokes him in the chest. “You’re a weirdo, and a nerd, and a dork, to boot!” She’s grinning so wide again her cheeks ache. “And you’re my favorite person.”

“Well you’re my favorite person and you are also a weirdo, so there!”

“Stevie, I think we all already knew I was a weirdo.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.” Steve picks up the spatula again and carefully shuffles the sandwiches from their warm, buttery home. “Stuff your face so I don’t have to hear you yap any more,” he says. There’s a touch of faux-annoyance in his tone, but there’s no edge to it, and Robin can see a smile just as wide as her own plastered on his face.

“Okay, gimme the goods, Harrington.” She makes grabby hands at the chipped plate he’s deposited the first sandwich onto.

“Alright, alright, hold your horses.” Steve hands the plate to her, finishes scooping his own sandwich from the pan, and turns the heat off. He stares down at the plate in his own hand with a considering look. “I think we can skip the soup; I’ve already spent too much time talking your ear off about the grilled cheese. If I have to walk you through making soup, we’ll be here all week.”

“I know how to make soup!” Robin squawks, a bit offended.

Steve casts another despairing look at the spice cabinet. “See, somehow that’s worse.”

Robin sticks her tongue out at him. “Rude.”

Steve holds up his free hand in surrender. “Hey, I’m just of the opinion that if people are taking the time to make food for themselves it should taste good.”

“You've had soup here before!”

“Yeah, and I’ve also been concussed all week!”

“Rude!” She shouts again. She flaps her hands in his face. “And, I’ll have you know that my French onion soup is amazing!”

Steve narrows his eyes. “I cannot accept that. There is no thyme to be found here.”

“What is your obsession with thyme?”

“It’s not an obsession! It’s a spice cabinet staple!”

“Ugh, whatever. Let’s eat before I murder you out of sheer hunger.”

“I don’t like the link you’re making between those two concepts.”

Robin pats a hand on his cheek as she walks past him to the tiny table tucked against the kitchen wall. “Don’t worry, babe. The giant meat monster put me off of cannibalism.”

“Thanks,” he mutters after her. “That’s so comforting.”

Robin folds herself into one of the vinyl chairs at the table, and Steve drops into the one across from her. She picks the grilled cheese up off the plate with careful fingers, grease immediately welling up from the soaked bread and running down her fingers.

It smells…divine, actually. The bread is perfectly crisp, and she can smell the garlic wafting from it. She leans forward to take a tentative bite, careful of burning herself, and can’t bite back the full-throated moan that pours out of her. Garlic and honey break out across her tongue, followed by the heat of the pepper, and the fatty goodness of the cheeses. “Oh my God,” she groans, fully ignoring the etiquette of waiting to swallow before talking as she speaks around her mouthful. “I’m in love with you,” she says to the sandwich, and she thinks she’s going to cry. There might be actual tears welling up again. This sandwich is better than most orgasms she’s hand—and sure, maybe she doesn’t really know what she’s doing with herself on that front, but up until this moment she also didn’t know what she was doing when it came to making a grilled cheese sandwich, so it feels like a totally reasonable to comparison.

“So…you like it, huh?”

Robin’s head jerks as she tears her gaze away from the sandwich and looks over at Steve, who has a giant, shit-eating grin on his face.

“Oh, shut up, asshole.”

“I’m not the one practically orgasming at the table, Bobs.”

“Am not.”

“You definitely are. I’m flattered, really. I didn’t realize my prowess extended this far.”

Robin flaps a hand in his face. “Ew, disgusting! Stop that!”

Steve throws his head back and cackles. “Oh my god, the look on your face!” He reaches up to wipe away a stray tear, and tilts his head back down to shoot her a fond look. “Seriously, though, I’m glad you like it.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but smiles at him anyway. “Yeah, thanks for making it, dingus.”

Steve smiles right back. “Anytime, dingo.”

Robin takes another bite. In this bubble of space, with a song on loop in her head, a smile on Steve’s face, and the taste of the world’s best grilled cheese on her tongue, Robin thinks that maybe, just maybe, everything is going to be alright.

[its-wabby-stuff]

How Human is your Animal?

Based on animalistic representation in Media. Ranging from anthropomorphic to everyday pet.

A tier list for your convenience

S Tier- Humans don’t exist here

Qualifications: the world has no humans, animals tend to walk on hind legs and participate in human like societies, most likely anthropomorphic but not required

Zootopia, Kung Fu Panda, Sing, Rise of the Planet of the Apes, Chicken Little, My Little Pony, Goofy Movie, Ducktales, Robin Hood, Angry Birds, Samurai Rabbit, Paws of Fury, Spiderhams Universe

A Tier- I see, a little co-op happening

Qualifications: the world has humans, humans acknowledge animals in some way, they can be hired/considered for jobs and/or are active in society. Might be considered mutants

Paddigton, Muppets, Stuart Little, The Bad Guys, Pinnocio, Shrek universe, Care Bears, the Bee Movie, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3, and subsequently the entire MCU, Monsters Inc, Storks, Looney Tunes, TMNT, MHA, Yogi Bear, We Bare Bears, Chip N’ Dale: Rescue Rangers (2022), Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Hop, Wonderland, James and the Giant Peach, Hoodwinked, Mr. Peabody and Sherman, Ichabod and Toad, Sonic Movie

B Tier- Your getting suspiciously close

Qualifications: act more human like, perhaps develop a hidden society or walk on hind legs or plan elaborate heists, it’s just not quite right for an animal

Madagascar, Ice Age, Shark Tale, Surfs Up, Snoopy, Rescuers, SpongeBob, Ratatouille, Horton Hears a Who, Free Birds, Great Mouse Detective, Chicken Run, Flushed Away, Fantastic Mr. Fox, Tom and Jerry, Secret of Nym, Tale of Desperaeux, American Tail, Once Upon a Forest, Garfield, Over the Hedge, Rango

C Tier- Communication is key in fostering animal relationships

Qualifications: Perhaps by magical transformation or special gift or something that has always been kept a secret until now, these animals are able to talk to you

Cinderella, Tarzan, Jungle Book, Epic, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, Charlottes Web, Scooby Doo, Happy Feet, Snow White, Pete’s Dragon, Princess and the Frog, Aladdin, The Little Mermaid, Spies In Disguise, Emperors New Groove, Enchanted, Sophia the First, Peter Rabbit, Meet the Robinsons, Anastasia, Swan Princess, Dr. Dolittle, Leo, Up

D Tier- Oh look, it’s gaining complexity

Qualifications: although animals have been known to convey emotions nothing is more complex than creating Shakespearean like storylines. Humans take to the sidelines

Lion King, Finding Nemo, 101 Dalmatians, Bambi, Land Before Time, The Secret Life of Pets, Bugs Life, Oliver and Company, All Dogs go to Heaven, Lady and the Tramp, Fox and the Hound, Aristocats, Migration, Bolt, Dinosaur, The Good Dinosaur, Super Pets, Dumbo, Home in the Range, G-force, The Wild, Spirit, Rio, Curious George

F Tier- It’s all okay, animals are just animals here

Qualifications: Imagine your pet in a movie, that’s prolly what fits here. The everyday dog, or cat, or shark. Likely plays a part in the plot progression of the movie

Babe, Jurassic Park, Milo and Otis, Old Yeller, Life of Pi, Sword in the Stone, Beethoven, A Dogs Purpose, We Bought a Zoo, Pokémon, Dolphins Tale, Homeward Bound, The Black Stallion, Marley and Me, Jaws, King Kong, How to Train Your Dragon

Z Tier- So it doesn’t work like other places, but it works for you

Qualifications: a Universe with its own set of rules, perhaps jumping into a place outside of their own where rules seem just a little different. Who can say if it was real, or a dream?

Mary Poppins, Spiderverse, Fantasia, Mario Bros, Song of the South, Alice in Wonderland (cartoon), Calvin and Hobbes

Each placing is based on the highest human to animal ratio in universe even if that is one exception. This is for fun, don’t take it too seriously. You’re welcome to fill in anything you think is missing. If I mentioned one of your favorite movies you have to reblog, I don’t make the rules.

😉

[fanatic-writers]

Adventures in Baby Sitting

Chapter One: The Adventure Begins

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A/n: I have a lot of fun things planned for this series. A lot of it is going to stick to the basis of the show but I also want to add some fun filler-type fics here and there. Some slice of life if you will. If there is anything you'd like to see feel free to send me a message and I will try to incorporate it into the series. I hope yall enjoy this and I'm actually really excited to keep writing this.

Word Count: 1952

Pairing: (Eventual) Din Djarin x Mandalorian!Reader

Warnings: Canon levels of violence but it's very tame, unedited like everything cause I'm lazy lol

Summary: Reader is the Armorer's daughter and is also a foundling. She and Din have known each other for a long time but he was never quite able to break his shell. When the Mandalorians help Din escape with the child she is ordered to go to his ship to help him care for the thing.

You hadn’t seen him come in at first, focused on your work despite the assistance of the machinery crafting armor from beskar wasn’t the easiest task in the world. Although that was the least of your worries. You watched as Din, or the Mandalorian as he was simply called now, fitted in his familiar armor had taken his seat. You glanced up from your work as your mother joined him. She hadn’t beckoned you over, so you did your best to continue despite wanting to catch up with your old friend. The two of you had known each other for quite some time, both foundlings, however, the Armorer had taken you under her wing when the Mandalorian that had found you passed shortly after. You were still too young to take the oath when it happened, but your mother had come to show you everything about her job, from forging to leading. You had grown since then, sworn to walk the path and follow The Way, honing in your skills by making armor for the foundlings. She eventually raised a hand to call you over and you joined her. Standing beside her as she handed you the piece of beskar. “Imperial?” You mumbled looking to the armor-clad man in front of you through your visor. “How did you-?” “It does not matter how.” Your mother spoke up “It is back in its rightful place. I’ll be crafting a pauldron, bring it to the smelter and then finish up with your work.” You nodded, silently doing as you were told. You watched as the beskar melted down, your mother preparing her tools. It wasn’t long before your piece for the Foundlings was finished, and she was handing over the new piece of armor to your friend.

“You didn’t speak to him.” Your mother’s voice filled the room that had been taken over by silence as you cleaned up your workstation. “He didn’t wish to speak.” You responded as you pulled out a failed project from ages ago, preparing to melt it down and turn it into a chest piece for yourself. As part of your practice, the Armorer had wanted you to slowly craft your own armor set, knowing the leather that the both of you wore wouldn’t protect you in every circumstance. “You didn’t ask.” You could hear the smirk on her lips despite the golden helmet that covered her face. If you hadn’t worn a helmet of your own, she’d see the look you gave her, but you hoped she could sense your disdain for her meddling in your relationship. You knew she only wanted what was best for you and that she knew how you felt about Mando, that didn’t mean you wanted her to try and set you up with the guy. “He’ll return eventually, and we will speak.”

Your mother had finished her work for the day, but you weren’t done yet. The sooner you finished your own armor the sooner you could work on more sets for the foundlings. You remembered watching your mother work on other sets of armor, patiently waiting for the day your own would come. Eventually, you were gifted a helmet for when you took the oath but most everything else was made of leather and chainmail. It wasn’t until you were able to create your own armor that you had your own set. You’d grown out of that long ago though. Your hammer swung, the pounding of metal filling the room as you let yourself get lost in your thoughts. What in the hell was Din Djarin doing with Imperial Beskar? And if he had it did it mean they were back? You put your anxiety and fear to work, letting it strengthen your swings. If they were back, you’d need to be ready to protect the Tribe, to protect your small clan. You looked at the chest plate, the final piece you’d needed to complete your set, and smiled softly. You were rarely happy with your work but this one felt right, it felt finished. All it needed now was a coat of paint. You’d have to do that later though. Instead, you cleaned up the armory and put the pieces in their place for when you were ready for them next. After that was finished you slipped from the armory and made your way to your room. The one upside to living with the Mandalorian was that despite the overall lack of privacy provided by the tunnels and caves something as simple as a cloth over an opening was respected as a door and never moved.

You pulled the tarp open over the opening of your small room and got to work removing your leather armor and finally, your helmet, setting it on a ledge next to your bed made of a pile of fabrics and whatever could have been scrounged up. Despite the circumstances, you considered your room rather cozy and your bed comfortable. You lay down and pulled the blanket up to your chin, turning your back to the door should someone intrude for whatever reason.

Days later you had spotted the Mandalorian as he walked down the halls to the all too familiar armory, a smile gracing your lips upon seeing his return. You briefly make your presence known to him before slipping into one of the many side halls that connect to the maze you and your clan had learned to call home. You noticed that there seemed to be quite the commotion going on at the armory, so you made your way there, sure you’d heard Paz getting upset about something yet again. The older Mandalorian always seemed to be in a mood lately, so you mostly stayed out of his way. Your mother made quick work of dispersing the conflict and you joined her in the armory, watching her work. It was expected that one day you would take her mantle. Whenever it was, she retired you had to be ready to not only mold and shape Beskar into the best armor but also become a guide for the Tribe. Your mother had done her best to make sure you would be ready when she was gone, knowing she had left quite the shoes to fill. She was the one who made sure that everyone was safe, especially after the destruction of Mandalore. You stood, lost in your thoughts, along the perimeter of the armor. You moved expertly to the various points your mother had instructed you to go to long ago when you first began your training, making sure you had the best angle to view the work she was doing. It was rare that the opportunity came to make a full set of armor from beskar alone, especially all in one go. You stole glances at the Mandalorian who waited ever so patiently for his new set of armor. Once the pieces were formed you joined your mother in her work, shaping the metal to its final form and making sure that it would function properly. When she was pleased with the pieces you had worked on your mother had tasked you with the making of the whistling birds. You were sure your joy was evident as you began to work on your favorite thing to craft. You carefully placed each “bird” in its slot before handing your piece over to the Mandalorian. “You’ll have to show me your new set-in action.” You spoke as you set the piece on the table “It's rare I get to see my craftmanship at work.” Din nodded before taking the pieces and leaving for the room he rarely used, preferring the razor crest to anything here. You could hear your mother take a breath, preparing to speak. “Don’t start.” You mumbled, causing a soft, and rare, laugh to escape her.

You’d spent the rest of your day working on the finishing touches of your own armor. There wasn’t much paint to go around in the caves, but you’d managed to find a merchant in Nevarro that had some. Youd painted the edges of your armor a pale green, keeping the design rather simple. You wouldn’t have enough to cover the entirety of your set, instead settling for hints of color here and there. Your signet you painted a deep red doing your best to match your helmet. You finished off the rest of your detailing with dull blue accents. “Let's hope your paint has dried.” Your mother spoke from behind you “Din Djarin is in trouble. Put your armor on and meet the rest of us outside” You frowned and turned to her, it had been a while since you’d been caught in a fight. “You are no longer a child; this day would have come soon enough.” Your mother spoke before disappearing. You noticed the others running by, getting to the easy exit points. You quickly slipped your armor on stretching out a bit to make sure everything fit well before leaving in the same path you had watched the Armorer take. “You may need to fight your way there, but I want you on the Razor Crest. Whatever it is your Mandalorian has found is worth fighting for he will need help keeping safe. Understood.” Your mother commanded. “He’s not my Mandalorian.” You mumbled as you made your way out of the tunnel and into the light of day, or rather evening.

The fight had already begun by the time you had emerged from hiding. Most of the fire was in the middle of the street, leaving alleyways open and mostly safe. You ducked behind cover and moved in the shadows as you watched the rest of the Tribe come to Din’s aid. Despite his earlier qualms, you watched as Paz evened the playfield before spotting the Razor Crest. You booked it to the ship, noticing another form entering the hold. Frowning you picked up the pace, only slowing when you remembered you’d need to make a quiet entrance. You weren’t familiar with most of Navarro’s citizens, but it was hard not to recognize Greef Karga. “What do you think you’re doing here?” You asked the man, blaster at the ready. “I could ask you the same.” The man put his hands up, but you knew better than to trust his sign of surrender. You maneuvered so you were further into the hull of the ship, making sure his back was against the entrance rather than your own. “You could make this easy for the both of us and accept your defeat, but you look like a hard-way kinda guy.” Karga chuckled, shaking his head “Aren’t you a smart one?” His hands darted down to his blaster but before he could get a hot off you pulled the trigger on your own, shooting him in the chest. You watched as he flew back a bit before crumbling to the ground, an all too familiar Mandalorian facing you with a bundle in his arms. “Sorry to make a mess in your ship.” You smile at him under your helm, your blaster finding its spot at your hip. “We should go.” You made quick work of rolling the body out of the Razor Crest. “We?” Din asked, keeping the bundle of cloth close to him. “You think my mother trusts you to care for a living thing on your own.” You teased as you walked back over to him, trying to get a peek at just what was buried under all that cloth. “This isn’t your fight.” He contested, trying to find a way to get you off his ship. “It is now.” You shrugged, pushing past him and up to the cockpit.

[cbrownjc]

Armand question: who’s Armand’s endgame? (Daniel or…?) Does he even have one?

Hi Anon!

Your question actually goes into a theory I've been starting to have, so I'm going to throw that in at the end of this answer.

So, within the first three books in the series, at least, you can say Armand's larger goal usually is, at its core, finding a companion that'll help him connect to the world.

Armand actually wanted Lestat to be his companion when they encountered each other. Lestat turned Armand down, basically with a "you and I wouldn't work out together," which more or less pissed Armand off. (And it's been antagonistic between them ever since. But don't get it twisted - if Armand could have Lestat in that way, if Lestat was at all interested, Armand would jump at the chance.)

When we meet Armand again in Interview with the Vampire, it's Louis Armand gets eyes on for a companion. Which he ends up getting for a time (a long time). By the time Louis gave his first interview, he and Armand had split up though.

Armand encounters Daniel after that first interview happened and, after a time, Daniel becomes his companion and his connection to the modern world.

Armand is basically the story's main antagonist within the first two books, only starting to not be one by the third. And my guess is the show is going to have him in a similar role here, especially for S2, since it will for sure be covering the latter half of the IWTV book at the very least. Which is when Armand goes hard in his endgame to make Louis his companion.

As in the book, I think Armand has lied to both Lestat and Louis that the other is dead. All to keep Louis with him.

Where Daniel fits into this, I can only guess. But I don't think it's a coincidence that the show has Armand's book-canon endgame companion/lover in the story here. And that Daniel clearly has missing memories about Armand, as was confirmed in that final scene.

In Queen of the Damned, when Armand had Daniel by his side, his full obsession was with Daniel. He even saw Daniel as a gift to him from Louis.

As far as the show goes, I think Armand's goal has been to keep Louis by his side. I don't think he's BS-ing about Louis wanting to kill himself. But I'm also not sure that Daniel is even going to be allowed to publish this book now, at least to the wider world, that would have Vampires coming to try and kill Louis for it. Because there was clearly a set narrative that was supposed to be told to Daniel for that book. But Daniel is way better at his job than he was back in 1973, and he was able to crack through that set narrative.

My feeling is that Daniel is for sure not leaving that tower penthouse apartment. He's as much trapped in that gilded cage as Louis is now.

And this is where my theory/speculation comes in:

Armand, in the book, would keep humans as pets. And I think we're going to see his character doing that in Season 2. Daniel himself was pretty much a pet at the start of his entanglement with Armand in the QotD book, before Armand fell in love with him.

And I think show-Daniel was that very thing at one time too. Back when he was younger. A very beloved pet - "our boy" - but a pet nonetheless.

But, unlike Armand's other human pets in the book, Daniel was never killed by him. And Armand, due to his love for Daniel, eventually turned Daniel when he was dying.

In the show, Daniel was clearly not killed or turned. I think he was let go instead, with altered memories. Because I think Daniel was with Armand and Louis for longer and more than just that failed interview night in 1973.

I think for sure that Louis and Lestat are endgame on the show. But I do not think there is going to be any sort of extended love triangle between Lestat, Louis, and Armand. Louis chose Lestat over his beloved Claudia. If in full possession of himself and knowing Lestat is alive, Louis would choose Lestat over Armand every single time. Which is why Armand even has to manipulate to have Louis with him now.

So, I'm pretty sure, at the moment, that Daniel is Armand's true endgame. Even though I don't think Daniel nor Armand know that themselves yet. (Daniel because his memories have been altered, Armand because he's still locked in with Louis.) But that is the course I think they, and the show, are headed.