#I don’t really know where this was going (again. running on six hours’ sleep right now.) but. yeah. timezones

[anguis-sapphire]

Welp, it seems today is already off to a melancholy start

[erwinsvow]

it’s like you were put on this earth to bother rafe.

everyday, without fail, come some sort of request—rafe, let’s go get coffee. rafe, i want ice cream. rafe, i wanna go to bed. he tells you to go to bed and you whine immediately after, letting out a faint “not alone! not what i meant!” before he rolls his eyes, one huge hand settling on your hip and the other one on your back, throwing you over his shoulder and taking you to bed. 

once you finally get him there it’s all laughs and giggles and avoiding his gaze, getting shy again, refusing to tell him what you really want. he rolls his eyes and gives it to you hard, like he knows you need it, so you’ll fall asleep and let him finish his work in silence. and it works—for a few hours, that is. then you're up again, usually with more requests.

“rafe, they’re having a sale.” you fiddle with your R pendant, the way you always do when you want something and can’t find the words to just ask for it. for a girl pawing at his dick and begging for it raw half the time, you get awfully shy. 

“so? how many fuckin’ clothes do y’need?” 

“you’re the one who keeps ripping ‘em up! not my fault-”

he rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair.

"knock it off," he says, coming out louder and more frustrated than he meant.

then he watches you quiet down and scroll on your phone, biting your cheek. he thinks he messed up and made you cry. he feels bad the second it's done, because there’s definitely some pretty, tiny dress pulled up on the screen that you want to show him. 

he knows how your brain works at this point—you want him to get it for you, take you out to a cute dinner so you can wear it and then have him yank it off of you later that night. you won’t ask for it though, there’s your shyness again. 

you feel bad when he actually does buy you anything more than a six-dollar latte or a big ice cream that you can’t finish.

"what're you looking at?" he finally asks, not even a minute later, looking at your body resting on the complete other side of the bed now.

"nothing."

"you gonna do this right now?"

"do what?"

"just show me what you want."

"no, it's nothing. i'll just ask my other boyfriend for it, it's fine-"

before your sentence is finished, he's already on top of you, squishing your cheeks together, pinning you down. he stares into your eyes, maybe expecting tears, but they don't come. instead you look... satisfied. satisfied with yourself for riling him up like you wanted.

"yeah? other boyfriend?"

"jus' a joke, rafey." your voice comes out all quiet and squeaky since he's holding your face tight. your eyes are big and wide staring up at him. he hates that he's getting hard right now. he lets you go, rolling off and feeling your body sink into his bed.

“get your ass in the car.” it comes out as a statement, not a request. you comply immediately, leaning over to give him a wet, sloppy kiss before stumbling out of bed to grab your shoes. he gets up too, looking for his keys, when you come right back to give him a hug. you press your head against his chest, arms wrapped tight around his neck, eyes fluttering shut, breathing in his scent.

“thank you, rafe,” you murmur against his shirt.

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” he starts, but you don’t miss the way the tops of his ears are flushed with pink. “get the fuckin’ address for that place out-”

he does take you out to dinner, a cute place where he pulls out your chair for you and holds your hand in his on the table. he gets you flowers that match the color of your new dress, which are resting in the backseat of his car now. he kisses your cheek when he helps you put your jacket back on. then he slaps your ass when you’re getting into the passenger seat of his truck, because now it’s his turn to have fun with that dress.

later that night, close to sleep, you paw at his arm and ask for ice cream. the two of you are on the road five minutes later. he turns his head at the red light to watch you lick your cone. then you hold it up to his mouth so he can have some too, smiling and laughing when he takes a big bite.

he's starting to think he likes when you bother him for stuff.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Secret Love II

So, here we are with the second part! I don't really where I'm going with it right now to be honest, so I'm just gonna I’ll just let my imagination run wild.

Thanks for your reviews, don't hesitate leave me some, it always makes me very happy to know what you think of my writings :)

Enjoy!

P.S Part one is HERE

____________________________________________________________

A few hours after leaving your hotel room, you return there hoping to be as discreet as you were before. On tiptoe, you reach your bed and slip under the covers, your mind always with Alexia. She also went to her room, you both agreed that it was important to enjoy the last hours of sleep before dawn. While you are looking for sleep, you don't realize that Ona’s breathing is no longer as deep as when you left, indicating that she is awake.

"... going to be late!"

Ona’s voice comes to you like through a fog and you need a few blinks of eyes to finally fix your gaze on her face.

"Breakfast is in seven minutes, you know how is Vilda with late people"

Oh man. You jump of your bed, frantically searching for your clothes by making more mess than anything else. You sprint in the bathroom to wash your face and comb your hair in a messy bun, trying to get the sleep of your face.

"Ona go, don't be let yourself" you say to your roomate.

"You sure?" she asked, popping her head by the door.

"Yeah"

"Ok. Your shirt is upside down."

You swear before you put it right, jump in your sneakers and go out slamming the door of the room. Obviously the elevator doors close a few meters from you, so you decide to take the stairs. It’s a miracle you’re on time and you're not even the last one.

You spot Alexia, sitting next to Jenni and Irene, with the same fresh, rested look as if she had slept 12 hours straight. This woman, you thought, before serving you a breakfast tray and looking for a free place.

************************

"Y/N what's that?"

You turn around but Aitana had time to have a close look to the hickey Alexia made two days ago. Her loud question made everyone turn around, even if you all were supposed to be focused on your strength exercises.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, your mind racing while looking for a good excuse.

"You got a bruise on your neck"

At this point those who were furthest away turned their attention to their exercises, but you feel that the look of several of your teammates burning your back. You crossed Alexia's eyes for a second and open the mouth to talk, but another voice answers before you.

"It must have been when you fell while getting ready, the morning you were late. I thought she was gonna break her neck."

The second sentence is more for Aitana than for you, but she seems to accept this answer with even a small laugh before grabbing his dumbbell again. It's Ona's look that you cross this time and since you don’t know what to tell her, you’re starting to do your exercises again.

************************

"So, you and Alexia uh?"

You were back in your room, reading a book while listening some music. It was free time but it was so cold outside that you didn't want to go out for now. Ona had said nothing until now, even during the meal time when you found yourself sitting in front of her. Even if you knew the subject was coming at some point, you appreciate the fact that she chooses to be sure she isn’t being heard by anyone to bring the subject.

"Well... Maybe"

You can't fight back the smile on your face and your vague answer seems to be enough for your roommate.

"Who knows?" she asked.

"No one, apart from Alexia’s mother."

"Even Jenni?"

You bite your lip and shakes your head. You know Alexia want to talk about it with Jenni, she's her bestfriend after all. But you had a rule and she just get with it.

"We got together six months after I arrived in Barcelona, I had a hard time understanding what was happening the first time she tried to flirt with me."

You smile in spite of yourself, the flirting was not necessarily the strong of Alexia but you always found it touching.

"And then we broke up when we lost against Wolfsburg, she thought our relationship was what kept her from focusing on the game and the win."

You swallow with difficulty, these memories being particularly dark for both of you. But now that you’ve started talking about your story, you can’t stop. Especially since the Catalan seems to be an excellent listener.

"After that we lost the final... It was awful. I spent every second trying not to look at her, not to show anything to anyone. No one knew and they thought I was disappointed that we lost the final when I was in reality heartbroken."

Lost in your thoughts, your gaze on your hands, you notice only when you feel her presence that Ona left her bed to sit next to you. She places her hand on your arm and you look up at her smiling, which must probably seem strange to her given with what you're saying after.

"Weeks and months passed and we found ourselves training for the Euro. And you certainly don’t need me to remind you what happened with her ACL."

Ona’s grimace speaking of herself, you continue, leaning against the wall behind you.

"I wrote her several times to tell her that I was thinking about her, but she didn't answer. I didn't expect her though, I knew that she had cut contact with almost everyone. But when we were eliminated and I returned to Barcelona, I found her one time on my doormat. She was... I never saw her like that Ona. She was destroyed."

The memory of this moment gives you shivers and you shake yourself mentally to return to the present.

"I let her in and she talked about her insecurities. She told me she was supposed to be in rehab in 15 minutes, but she didn’t want to go. She felt that it was useless and that she would never play again. So I threatened to call her mother and took her there. That’s when we started seeing each other again and got back together soon after."

There was a small silence, during which Ona seemed to digest the information you had just given her. With frowns, she looks at you thoughtfully when answering.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it was this deep. And I’m sorry you both had to go through this without being able to tell anyone."

"It's in the past now. I can't talk for her but she makes me really happy. You really saved us this morning, but please keep it to yourself for now"

"I will"

She smiles and you kiss her cheek before she gets up to go to the bathroom. Thinking it's better to inform Alexia, you take your phone.

You - Can you talk?

Mi Reina ♥ - Yes, what's up?

You - Ona knows about us, I kind of just told her everything.

Mi Reina ♥ - Well she kind of cover you up this morning so it was obvious Guapa

You - Sorry if my girlfriend can't keep her lips to herself :)

Mi Reina ♥ - Touché.

Mi Reina ♥ - Can I talk to Jenni about us, since Ona knows?

You - If you want to, it's ok for me.

The next day, it didn’t take you long to realize that Alexia had spoken to Jenni. You have surprised the gaze of the striker several times, examining you with a thoughtfulness look. Every time you catch her looking at you, you were foolishly blushing and it was only when Alexia slapped her head that she stopped looking at you.

************************

Time pass and here you are, at the final of the World Cup. The more you advanced in the tournament, the harder it was to manage time for you and Alexia. But you had a few moments, thanks to Jenni and Ona who covered you a few times. You didn’t escape Jenni’s threatening conversation, based on "Hurt my best friend and you won’t see the light of the day again" but other than that she seems to have given you her blessing.

You were in the locker room once again, but this time it was the Final. You were playing against England, your last game of the tournament. You're not really listening what Vilda is saying, focused on your boots. You start the match, next to Alexia, Ona, Jenni and your others teammates. You’re stressed, you can’t wait for the game to start now.

You haven't forget the promise Alexia made this night in your hotel, but you haven't bring to topic again. Even if it doesn't happend, you couldn't be more happy.

What it seems an eternity later, you were on the fields and the referee was blowing in her whistle. You made it, you were World Champions. Tears of joy and relief invaded your eyes and you find yourself caught in a collective embrace, without really knowing who is tight against you. Cries of joy, tears and the cheering of the crowd around you seem to come from far away.

When you are able to stand up, you find yourself facing Ona who also huggs you before mumbling "I have to find Lucy". Of course she have to, not matter what is her relationship with her, they are really close.

You search for a particular person too, your eyes scanning around for pink hair. When you spot Alexia, she's on the ground and Jenni is helping her to stand up.

A bit like in a dream, you start running towards her before throwing yourself in her arms. The mix of emotion makes you feel like you’re floating when you wrap your legs around her waist and she hugs you back.

"We did it" you say, while she keeps you in her arms.

"Yes we did" she answers, with the most beautiful smile in her face.

If you weren't already madly in love with her, you'll probably fall again right now.

"So… What now?" you asked soflty after some seconds of silence you passed admiring her.

"I'm going to kiss you."

And she did, barely letting you the time to understand what she said. Keeping you in her arms, she approaches her face to yours and places her lips on yours, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Of course you hear exclamations of surprise around you, but you can’t focus on anything other than Alexia. She ends up putting you down, letting go your lips for a few seconds to catch her breath. You then kiss her a few seconds later, drawing her as close as possible.

You may have won the World Cup, but ultimately your greatest victory is her.

[rat-typewriter]

Clumsy - Leon Kennedy x Reader

proofread?: I will soon,,,, i promise

summary: You injure yourself; Leon wishes you'd be more careful.

You wished you had been looking where you had been going. Maybe then, you wouldn't have had to experience the horrible moment of free-fall as you realise that you've overstepped slightly and are about to tumble down the stairs. On your way down, not only did you smack your head into the wall - giving yourself a nosebleed - and crack your phone screen, but you landed on your ankle at an awkward angle.

Which really fucking hurt.

For a moment, you lay in a pathetic heap at the bottom of the stairwell - stunned by the whole experience. It was only when you heard Leon’s voice from several flights up that you snapped out of your daze.

“Y/N, Have you got the keys?” You quickly heaved yourself up into a sitting position, rummaging through your pockets - which contained no keys.

Shit.

You could picture them, still sat on your coffee table - now locked inside your flat.

Even from there, you could practically hear the teasing grin on his face as he added. “You always forget them.” 

Sighing, you moved to stand - using the handrail to heave yourself up. 

“I don’t have them.” You groaned. “God, I’m sorry, I’ve got to stop-”

Pain shot up through your leg - forcing a surprised yelp out of your throat. You veered sideways, grabbing the handrail for support as you doubled over in agony.

“Y/N?” 

Leon’s footsteps echoed as he thundered down the stairs, calling your name again. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Ow, fuck.

Blood dripped out of your nose - the warm wetness running down your chin - clumsily you wiped it away, smearing red across your hand. 

“Y/N!” 

The panic in Leon’s usually steady voice made you feel a little ill (or maybe it was the way your head spun after daring to peer down at your ankle, which seemed to be at an interesting angle). You were by no means squeamish; in your line of work there simply wasn’t room to be. But in that moment - at eleven forty-four at night, in the stairwell of your flat - you weren’t feeling so brave.  

Leon rounded the corner and took the last flight of stairs three at a time - practically skidding to a halt beside you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, allowing you to lean on him as he slowly lowered you to the ground. 

“What happened?” He scanned your body; swearing quietly as he took in the blood (which although was only from your nose, you realised looked quite worrying when it was smeared across your shirt and hands). “Shit, Y/N. I’m going to call someone-”

He moved to stand and you grabbed his shoulder. “I’m alright!” You blurted out, your voice shaking a little. “Seriously, I’m okay.” You smiled in what you hoped to be a reassuring fashion - but Leon stared back, unimpressed. Admittedly you were not even remotely okay, but hearing your level-headed boyfriend panic filled you with anxiety.

“Yeah - no you’re not, sweetheart.” 

You laughed flatly. “Yeah, okay.”

---

You had never thought your city had many potholes, before making the drive to the hospital with a broken ankle. Leon did his best to avoid them all - but for each one he hit, you swore loudly - earning a flinch and slightly alarmed apology from him.

Now you sat in the Accident and Emergency waiting room, alone - save for a drunken girl who had called five (or was it six?) friends to cry about something unintelligible. According to the clock hung on the sterile white wall, an hour and twenty minutes had passed since the receptionist told you that someone would be “right with you” (before disappearing to god knows where). 

Despite your best efforts, sleep was out of the question - even when you tucked your head under Leon’s chin, successfully blocking out the garish white lights - the angry throbbing from your swollen foot was too hard to ignore. From time-to-time you felt Leon begin to drift off, before jerking awake; you felt terrible for dragging him out, just because you were so clumsy. 

Despite his snarky remarks - rarely did you ever have a legitimate disagreement. You had playful spats and often pushed each other's buttons - but Leon always knew where to draw the line.  

You knew he put up with a hell of a lot from you. Even the time your cat died and you refused to leave your flat for a month. He patiently came over and sat with you every single day until you felt ready to come out again. Even when you came back from missions and were too afraid to sleep. He’d sit awake with you watching every film under the sun until you fell asleep. Even the times where you did something genuinely stupid - touching an oven tray with your bare hands, locking yourself out for the millionth time - he’d just sigh and tease you for being such a ditz. But every time his voice - through the speaker of your phone would say:

It’s okay, don’t worry about it.

I’m on my way; I’ll see you soon.

Hang tight, sweetheart.

He was everything to you. You glanced up at him, the movement enough to disturb him from his bored trance.

“I’m sure it won’t be long now.” He squeezed you gently, tightening his arm around your waist and you smiled awkwardly.

“Sorry." 

He cocked his head at you, giving you a tired smile. “You haven’t got anything to apologise for. Those stairs are far too steep - they’re an accident waiting to happen.” 

They really weren’t. And you both knew this. It was just a regular flight of stairs and you hadn’t been looking where you were going. 

You looked down at your foot, which had contentedly settled as an angry shade of purple. You were clumsy. A great officer - you kept up with Leon on missions easily, but you had a tendency to misjudge. It drove your boyfriend mad - your undying (perhaps foolish) confidence that I can make that jump or I'll be able to outrun those guys. His exasperated sighs and swearing under his breath often misled others. It always seemed to come as quite a shock that - although you spent a fair amount of time bumping heads, that not only did you work together - but you also loved one another.

After being separated in missions - no matter how much ranted about how you were too reckless or unprofessional or infuriating - he'd always squeeze your hand.

You didn't know what you did to deserve him. You wished you knew.

Pulling you from your thoughts, Leon pressed a kiss to your temple.

"You're thinking too hard." He spoke quietly. "That's never a good thing."

You shifted in your seat, thinking carefully before you spoke.

"Please don't leave me," 

You felt Leon sir back a little and - even though didn't move to look at his face - you felt him almost spluttering; buffering through various expressions as he scrambled for a response.

He started to speak a couple of times, cutting himself off before he could even form the first word. Finally, he let out a breathy laugh.

"What?" He said, craning his neck slightly to get a better look at your face.

You stared at the floor still, afraid to move. God, you sounded pathetic. So attention-seeking; so whiny.

"I-" You paused to suck in a breath, your throat beginning to shut. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Leon."

He laughed again, this time more firmly, shaking his head. "Do I look like I could function without you?"

What is he talking about? You took deep breaths and tried to steady yourself and focus on him. 

He had turned to you, propping himself up with his elbow on the back of your seat. Leon wasn't a massively touchy person - not in public at least - but you noticed how suddenly there were mere inches between you. Even now, you could see a glimpse of yourself, a gangly twenty year-old at the Police Academy in Racoon City - as the boy who sat next to you asked for your number.

He raised his eyebrows, pushing a strand of hair out of your face. "I had no idea I seemed so put together."

"I-" Your voice came out as a sort of hollow whisper. "What?"

He smiled, leaning closer as he laughed again. "M'not going to leave you, sweetheart. I thought it was obvious, but you're going to have to try a little harder than a broken ankle to get rid of me." 

A weak laugh forced its way out of you - even when you were a teenager, you had been a nervous-laugher. In the back of your mind, you were vaguely grateful that the drunken girl had now passed out across a row of seats - right then, it was only Leon.

"Really?" You said.

"Mhm." He nodded, barely a hint of his usual smugness remaining in his voice. "I mean - as long as you still want me around - I'm going to need you."

He sat back, raising an eyebrow at you. "I wouldn't want anyone else watching my back."

You giggled again, a memory of your time in the academy appearing in your mind.

"Even the time I tripped us both up in front of Officer James?"

He nodded, laughing. "Yeah, even so."

Leaning into his side again, you felt a little silly. Leon never let you feel unloved, it was just your own insecurity that got the better of you from time to time.

For a moment you sat in silence, comfortably nestled against one another. 

Leon sighed.

"Do you think they've forgotten us?" You asked, watching the empty reception desk carefully.

"Probably." He said. "Oh well,"

After another mind-numbingly dull forty minutes, a nurse appeared - taking you for x-rays and various tests. By the time you and Leon finally left the hospital, the sky was beginning to lighten. 

Leon watched nervously as you struggled with your crutches, limping through the car park. He made sure to never be more than a pace or so away from you, his hands poised so he could leap forwards and catch you whenever you stumbled.

“I’m not going to break, Leon.” You laughed watching his wide-eyed expression as you faltered slightly - but caught yourself easily. 

“I know,” He said, swallowing - but still not taking his eyes off of you. “I’m just here-” you slipped again and he grabbed you around the waist, supporting you. He let out a sigh before continuing. “I’m just here in case that happens.”

“Who would have thought it, stoic Agent Kennedy - all worried, just for little old me.” you grinned, raising an eyebrow - earning a huff from Leon.

“Well, clearly, you need my help.” 

“Oh do I?” you stumbled again; Leon caught you. 

This time it was his turn to raise his eyebrows, his signature cocky smile speaking for itself.

As much as you hated to admit it, that smile never failed to make you weak at the knees. You rolled your eyes, turning away - there was no way you’d ever give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “Shut up.” you huffed.

“I didn’t say anything.” he said, feigning innocence. You could hear his smugness.

“You were about to.” you gently shoved him with your hip - causing him to playfully lift you an inch or so off the ground. 

“I’d be careful, if I were you, agent L/N. I might just drop you.”

With a fake gasp you responded. “Oh you wouldn’t dream of it.”

---

A/N: Aaa I love leon so muchhh if anyone has only more re4 or re8 requests pls send them!!!

[artdivadej]

Mr.Sandman

Part One

18+ | NSFW

The nightmares never stopped. Not unless I was in his arms. I’d been trying so hard to keep a good distance between us these last six months because I was still confused about how I felt to be honest. I knew I needed him. I knew I’d never cared for anyone else in the way I did him. Was that because the feelings were from trauma bonding to him or because I did finally actually see him after 11 years? It seemed wholly unfair to keep putting him in situations if I couldn’t reciprocate his earnest feelings. He was always honest about where he stood to the way he spoke and how he treated me. How passionate he could be!

During the second games I’d allowed myself to just let my body respond when he’d kissed me on the beach. It scared the hell out of me. Fire erupted in my veins and the pit of my stomach when his tongue met mine, my roots tingled with every pass of his large, gentle fingers running up my neck to cup my cheeks. I’d never wanted sex until that moment.

When Peeta had pulled back and met my gaze, his pecan eyes now a toasted walnut, they too screamed his hunger for more. I wanted his hands all over me, to give me everything that he had on that beach. To feel his gentle lips explore every inch of me. To listen to Peeta worship me all the while. Because I can tell just by how sweetly he talks to me normally that he’d be so vocal. I wanted to really give the capital a show of the fiery passion within me for him in that moment. I was afraid of what that might mean.

I’d been forcing myself to sleep alone since we got back from the war although he only lived 2 houses down from me. Or at least as much sleep as I could muster, which was never usually more than 2-3 hours.

The nightmares never stayed at bay long.

I did visit him when he was asleep. He still slept with his window open and there was a nook built under the window in his bedroom. I’d sneak in when I was sure he was asleep and watch him sleep for a while, surrounded by his scent to make me feel safe again. It brought peace and allowed me to get more sleep at night to see him safe and content.

This was my routine.

I know it made me seem crazy. Especially since I know I could selfishly ask to climb into bed with him and he’d happily tell me yes. That somehow seemed more wrong than this. This didn’t feel like using him. That did.

I didn’t see him conscious much, choosing to hide out in the forest or in my cellar most of the daytime. I used to spend more time at Haymitch’s but Effie’s been visiting him for the last month and I don’t want to intrude.

I missed Peeta. His friendship. His warmth. His light. His smile. His touch. His lips. His hands.

Was that because he was all I had? Because his presence was the only thing that kept me going? I still swear he’d put some kind of spell on me that night at that beach.

I’d slept all alone this week though, knowing he had some big orders for weddings this month (the biggest gossip at the Hob right now) and would be working late hours. I couldn’t be sure when he would be down or up, now that his schedule had been changed for who knows how long.

It had been a hellish week and I just needed some sleep. It had been over 48 hours since I’d gotten any and my body was screaming to just let it drop. I’d have to risk oversleeping a little tonight at Peeta’s and pray he was just as tired from the extra orders.

I waited until a little after 2 am before I popped open my bedroom window and peeked around to make sure the coast was clear before leaping onto the grass barefoot. He’d definitely been baking something because the closer to his house I crept, the stronger the scent of fresh bread became. Oh, I missed this smell. Pushing onto the balls of my feet, I peeked inside to see him rolled facing away from the window, sleeping peacefully with his blanket around his waist. I leapt inside hitting the cushion silently, staying still for a few moments to make sure I didn’t disturb him. Peeta grunted, his left-hand scratching at his hair, his soft dirty blonde hair, before he was still again. I let out a deep breath and pulled the hoodie he had on the seat over my head, settling in and listening to the sounds of his peaceful breathing to lull me to sleep.

×××

I jumped awake, startled by how deeply I’d been sleeping. I wasn’t wearing his hoodie anymore. I’d been wrapped in the same blanket Peeta had round his waist earlier. I was no longer in the window seat either. Peeta had to have woken in the middle of the night and seen me. Shit! When had he moved me to the bed? It was still dark out. A chance look at his alarm clock let me know that I’d only been sleeping for about an hour but, Peeta wasn’t here.

Just as I thought to make a speedy exit, he came out of the adjoining bathroom scratching at his wayward curls, his bare feet slapping the floor lowly. He climbed into the bed still unaware that I was now awake and watching him since I’d stayed on my side. When his arm curled around my waist and pulled me in close, I felt my body slump immediately, my safety returned.

Turning in his arms I realized I’d surprised him as much as he had me when his eyes met mine.

“I didn’t mean to wake you”, he hummed as he brushed his fingertips tenderly down my cheek.

“That’s my line”, I choke ignoring how my breath hitched at his touch.

Oh, I’d been starving for his touch. Those large hands, capable of tossing a man twice his size with ease, yet gentle enough to make fine strokes that create an intricate design on whatever they touched.

“I had to piss anyway”

“You leaving must have woken me up”

“It always did”, he smirked playfully. “So...”

“So?”

I sigh knowing he’s going to want to talk about why I haven't been around him for the last 6 months. I’m a little too tired for that tonight.

“How long have you been sleeping here?”

Ok.

Not the question I was expecting. I bite my bottom lip and break eye contact. His honest, adoring pecan eyes always made me crack and I desperately wanted to lie.

“Baby girl?” he cooed pulling my eyes back to him, his index finger tilting my chin up to make sure he could hold me spellbound.

“A while” I breath

“I knew I hadn’t heard you scream in a long time”

“You could hear me?”

“Of course. I could hear you across a forest, you don’t think I’d hear you 100 feet away?”

“Sorry about that”

“Don’t be. I missed having you this close”, he breathed pulling me in tighter so my rapidly heating body was flush against his.

Oh God I loved his strong arms around me, his thick corded upper body able to surround me completely whenever I buried my face in his chest.

“I can’t sleep without you”, I admit trying to catch my breath

“You missed me?”

I don’t answer and his hand is cupping my cheek, his left that had been tucked under my hip had curled around my waist and was sliding up my back now. His left-hand slides beneath my shirt and up my back smoothly making my body tremble in response. For someone who worked so much with his hands they were so damn soft when he handled me. Whether he was tossing me behind him protectively or throwing me up onto his hips for a hug. Peeta’s terrifyingly powerful hands always felt like silk on my skin. He smirked when he realized there was no bra beneath my t-shirt. Oh, his hands. He tilts his head minutely so his lips just barely brush mine and that heat flares within my belly again. I want him to kiss me so bad.

I want his hands on more of me.

“Say it sweetness”

“Yes. I missed you” I finally admit practically hissing with need.

God I must be tired. I couldn’t string together a coherent thought outside of his lips or his prodding fingers along the expanse of my back and cheek.

“Good girl”, he grinned pecking my lips gently.

The hand cupping my cheek slid down the curve of my neck and I had to be honest, I briefly imagined them on my throat as he made love to me, his overgrown blonde curls falling into his eyes as he brought me to climax beneath him.

Such power in those gentle fingers. I arched up to kiss him again but he pulled back, slightly rolling so that he lay atop me now, both of his hands on either side of my head as I gaze up in wonder at him. His tight muscles strain against his shirt nicely and I reach out to touch him, not wanting him to hover above me but for his skin to touch mine. His right hand grabbed mine. Peeta nibbled my fingers before locking it above my head with the other, pinning me in place with his left hand. He hadn’t even needed to flex a muscle to keep me immobile.

Oh God.

I whined and arched again, hoping he’d take pity and kiss me again if he wasn’t going to touch me.

“Is there something you want?”, he hummed pushing my thighs apart with his knees.

“You”

“What about me?”

“To kiss me” I whined loudly

I would never be this honest if I wasn’t delirious from sleep deprivation but, as far as I knew this could all be a dream. The perfect time to take full advantage of such the perfect dominant vocal Peeta.

His brow quirked but he seemed to have mercy on me as he leaned forward towards my lips. I couldn’t help the excited whine that left my throat any more than my low groan when they met my neck instead.

“You want my mouth on you sweet girl?”, Peeta hummed as his lips began to suck at my neck oh so gently, his thick tongue rolling over my pulse so wonderfully.

“Oh yes!”

“You missed my lips?”, Peeta whispers through his teeth before sinking his teeth into the column of my throat, sucking hard enough to bruise.

Oh Fuck! His lips were descending lower, his teeth snagging at my raised shirt to pull it over my collarbone.

“So beautiful”

I squirmed under his penetrating gaze as his eyes took in every part of my exposed torso, hating that of all the scars the Capitol could get rid of, the one Cato gave me would forever mar my upper body. He’d cut me from waist to throat badly enough I had to practically sew my torso back together. It went from my left hip up through the middle of my breasts, and over my shoulder. The skin was still slightly raised and a deep angry red that made my otherwise pretty skin a jagged mess. Peeta leaned forward and lay a kiss on its apex at my shoulder, suckling the sensitive skin lower and lower until his hot mouth hovered just above my nipple.

“You’re so pretty sweetness”, Peeta groaned pulling my left nipple between his lips, giving a soft suckle. “Such strength in such a lovely frame”

“Ah, Peeta!”

He released my hands, my left happily threaded through his soft curls while my right squeezed at his shoulder. His left hand hiked my thigh up so that my legs dropped open to make more room for his wide frame. Peeta’s large hands cupped both of my breasts, his lips wrapped around the slick swollen bud of my left, his teeth nibbling as he sucked hungrily. I couldn’t stop the shaking of my frame if I tried. Moving his attention to my left breast I pull at his hair, my hips bucking to meet his desperately, drowning in his wet mouth on my nipples.

“Is this what you miss?” he hummed

“I-I-I've never” I try and fail to explain

“You wanted just me to taste you sweet girl?”

“Only you” I pant with another buck of the hips

This makes Peeta smile with a wicked mischief I only remember seeing on his face when he announced my fake pregnancy. His left hand releases my breast and I whine at the loss of contact but his mouth is quick to suckle the bud up into his warm mouth. Only leaving the bud to suck around it and leave his mark on more of my heated skin.I was so lost in his mouth that I’d lost track of his free right hand. Peeta had pushed my panties to the side, dragging his index and middle finger up back and forth against my slick lips.

“So wet for me”, he moaned

Peeta was robbing me of all reason I had as his hands explored every dip and groove that set my body on fire. To hear his deep sweet voice, whisper such lewd things as he made me melt with his fiery touch was enough to set every atom ablaze with his heat. When he slipped his index finger deep within me to his palm, I gasped in surprise at the fullness the thickness of his finger gave me. His mouth was on mine in seconds, swallowing my gasps of pleasure as he curled and slow stroked my walls.

“Peeta”

“Breathe pretty girl. I need you ready for me” he whispered in my ear as his left hand rolled my nipple between his fingers.

If his finger felt like this how would I fit all of him inside of me? Almost as if sensing my thoughts Peeta’s teeth enclose around the top shell of my ear before licking the shell and biting again. Oh. I liked that.

“Can I taste you sweetness?”

“I thought you were” I gasp when he tweaks my nipple and thrusts up particularly hard with his finger in a way that makes me clench around him.

“Oh no, I meant your sweet pussy”

He slips his finger from within me and I can’t help but whine again, missing the full feeling but he places his soaked finger into my open mouth. I wrap my lips around it and suck hard, rolling my tongue over it, making a show of enjoying the sweet flavor. Peeta’s eyes widen as he watches me and I can feel his dick twitch against my thigh. His lips capture mine quickly as his tongue sucks mine hungrily to get a taste of me as well.

“Can I please?” he groans against my lips, his hips rocking back and forth desperately now.

“Yes”

“Yes”

The triumphant soft moan that leaves his lips makes my clit jump in response. Was Peeta always this doting? This open about his desires? Oh, I couldn’t wait to feel his mouth worshipping my lips for the first time. I had a feeling Peeta was going to have me awake for the rest of the night.

[bigoltrashpile]

Here to help

The amazing @tkspersonaldump commissioned me for this very sweet story, thanks again TK!

Everything was fuzzy.  Everything hurt.  You groaned as you held your head.  There was no reason for you to be feeling this way, you needed to stop hurting!  Well, maybe there were a few reasons.  The fact that you hadn’t slept in two days, and the various letters surrounding you definitely didn’t help.  Bills, doctor’s notes, letters telling you your SSI had been rejected yet again, more bills…there was a lot on your plate.

Which was probably why the splitting headache wouldn’t go away.  You yelled in frustration and grabbed your phone.  You didn’t know why, you just hit one  of the numbers in your contacts.  You needed help, as much as you hated to admit it, and even though you couldn’t see much right now, the familiar voice of Hound helped you snap out of your pain.

“hey, it’s hound.  i can’t come to the phone right now-” Shit.  Of course he didn’t pick up.  You knew he hated answering phones, not to mention he usually had his on silent.

“Hound, I need help,” you managed to croak out.  “Everything hurts, and…and I don’t know what to do.  Just come get me.”  You winced, before trying again.

“hey, it’s hound.  i can’t come to the phone r-”

“FUCK.  Hound, I need help right now, please just come and get me!”  You had tears running down your face.

You tried again.  “hey, it’s hound. i ca-”  With a yell of anger, you threw your phone across the room, before curling up and sobbing.  You couldn’t do much else.  Everything hurt way too much, and you just…

Wanted….

To sleep………

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

Hound groaned as he ran his hands down his face.  Even though he didn’t have eyes, his sockets still hurt from staring at his computer screen.  He really needed to invest in some blue light glasses.  He finally stood up and turned to the darkness of his room.  He had been researching for the last several hours, and he really needed something to eat.

As he left his room, he was quickly confronted by his brother.  Or, not his brother, but the strange, friendly, blue-eyed version.  “AH, PA-HOUND.  ANY UPDATES?”

“nothing good.  contacted the doctor at least six times, wouldn’t tell me shit.  the stupid ass human government wouldn’t help me with the ssi either.”  He sighed.  “i’m just gettin’ something to eat before i try again.”

“I SEE.  WELL, WE HAVEN’T FIGURED OUT A WAY TO GET THEM TO MOVE IN WITH US,” Lucky grumbled.  “THEY ARE JUST FAR TOO STUBBORN.  AND WE DON’T WANT TO LOSE THEIR TRUST BY FORCING THEM.”  He let out a frustrated sigh.  “Why Can’t They See How Much Better Things Will Be If They Just Move In…”

“eh, they’re too independent.  reminds me of someone i know,” Hound joked.

Lucky scoffed, knowing Hound was talking about him.  And all the other Sanses.  “FAIR POINT.  STILL, WE HAVE TO KEEP TRYING.”  A playful, less serious grin spread across his face.  “NOT TO MENTION, IMAGINE HOW FUN IT WOULD BE TO HAVE THEM WITH US ALL THE TIME!”

“we’d be able to cuddle all fuckin’ night,” Hound laughed.  “the dream.”

“WELL, I WON’T KEEP YOU FROM YOUR BREAK,” Lucky waved.  “GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR WORK.”

“yeah, you too.”  Hound strolled down the stairs to the kitchen, absentmindedly pulling out his phone as he did.  As soon as he turned it on, he almost choked on nothing.

He had three missed calls.  From you.  And three voicemails.

Frantically, Hound listened to the first voicemail.  Hound, I need help.”  Your voice was weak and soft, Hound had never heard it like that before.   “Everything hurts, and…and I don’t know what to do.  Just come get me.”

Shit, he needed to find Scar.  Hound raced around the house while he listened to the second voicemail.  “-CK.  Hound, I need help right now, please just come and get me!”  This time, Hound was sure you were crying.  Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, where was Scar??  He needed to get to your house, now.

A flash of purple.  There he was!  Chatting with the “original” Papyrus in the kitchen.  “bro, bro, c’mere,” Hound grabbed his brother by the scruff of the neck.

“WHAT, CAN’T YOU SEE I’M HAVING A CO-” Scar’s sassy comment died in his throat when he saw the genuine fear on Hound’s face.  Wordlessly, Hound opened the last voicemail.

This one was the scariest.  There weren’t any words, just a loud thud before the faint sound of your sobbing.

Hound looked up.  Scar’s eyes were completely black, and Papyrus had his hands over his mouth, a terrified look in his eyes.  “take me to them,” Hound demanded.

Wordlessly, Scar nodded and grabbed his brother’s hand.  “I’LL PREPARE THE SPARE ROOM FOR THEM,” Papyrus said quickly.  “AND TELL THE OTHERS.”

Scar nodded, and in a blink, him and Hound were gone.

Hound sucked in a deep breath when he and Scar landed outside your front door.  Shit, Hound hated how dizzy that always made him, but at least it was fast.  He put a hand on the door to brace himself while his brother knocked.

“TK?  ARE YOU HOME?”  There was no response.  Scar knocked, louder.  “TK, THIS IS IMPORTANT.  PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR.”  Still, silence.

Hound gently pushed his brother to the side.  Effortlessly, he phased his hand through the door, and unlocked the door from the other side.  Thank the stars for the brothers’ weird physics breaking abilities.

As soon as the door was unlocked, the two of them burst into the living room.  Now that they were inside, they could hear shaky breathing coming from your bedroom.  They sprinted down the hall, and found you curled up on the floor.

You were surrounded by letters, and there were tear tracks running down your face.  Even though you weren’t crying, it was obvious that you had been for a long time.  Hound internally cursed himself for always having his phone on silent.  If he had heard you, you wouldn’t have been in this state.

Scar examined a few of the letters while Hound knelt next to you.  “hey darlin’, it’s us,” he whispered.  You just stared, like you didn’t recognize him.  “i’m so sorry i wasn’t here sooner.  c’mon, let’s get you out of here.”

Gently, like you were made of glass, Hound picked you up bridal style.  You didn’t respond at all, just sat there, limp.  Completely uncaring.  Hound kissed your forehead.  “we’re gonna get ya home, safe an’ sound.  i promise, angel.”

Scar sighed before standing up straight.  He looked at you with concern, but said nothing.  He simply put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, and the three of you were teleported back home.

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

You rolled over in bed.  Ugh, it was too early.  Five more minutes.  You pulled the blankets up over your head as if to block out the whole world.  It was then that you realized what was wrong.

This wasn’t your bed.

Immediately, you jumped up, wide awake.  You frantically whipped your head around, then sighed in relief.  It was just the guest room of the skeletons, your good friends.  You had slept here a few times before, but…what were you doing here now?

Shakily, you tried to get out of bed.  You didn’t remember how you got here, when, or who brought you.  All you remembered was trying to call Hound, before everything became a blur.

You winced to yourself.  Shit, you had probably scared him so much, you had to apologize.  As you got closer to the door, you heard familiar voices outside.  The closer you got, the louder they became.

“-EST OPTION.  THERE’S ALREADY A ROOM FOR THEM, AND WE ALL LIKE THEM.”

“yeah, but we really gotta ask ‘em first.  they’ve said no every time.”

“we gotta wait ‘til they wake up, let’s just call the doctor again and-”

You opened the door, and instantly, all conversation stopped.  All eight skeletons were standing in a circle outside your door.  Clearly, they were surprised to see you, judging by their wide eyes and open mouths.

“TK!” Papyrus cheered.  Before you could say anything, he had wrapped you in a tight hug.  “HOW ARE YOU FEELING?  WE WERE ALL  SO WORRIED!”

“Um, I’m okay, I”m so sorry for worrying y-”

“YOU DON’T HAVE ANYTHING TO APOLOGIZE FOR,” Noir said sternly.  “WE CARE ABOUT YOU, WORRYING IS JUST PART OF THE DEAL.”

“we’re just glad you’re awake,” Sans said.  The bags under his eyes seemed darker than normal.  “when scar and hound brought ya back, we thought ya had fallen down.  didn’t know if humans could do that, but it looked pretty damn close.”

Slim gently put a hand on your shoulder.  “how about ya go sit down, i’ll get ya some monster candy and some soup, that’ll help ya feel better.”

You smiled gratefully at him.  “Before you do that, what were you guys talking about?  I’m guessing it was about me.”

They all looked away.  It was cute how they all had the same mannerisms.  After a beat of silence, Butch broke it.  “we were gonna ask ya to move in with us again.  we know how stubborn ya are, so don’t say no yet, but it’s the best option.  we can help cover your expenses, ya wouldn’t have to pay rent, and ya’d always have us there for ya when ya need us.  before ya say no-”

“Okay.”

Butch blinked.  “....okay?”

“I’ll move in with you guys.”  You rubbed your shoulder.  “Today was really scary.  I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come to help me.  Plus, everything is just so crazy, and I’m going to have to start some new medications…”  You looked up at them hopefully.  “If you’ll let me stay, that would make me feel a lot better.”

Instantly, Lucky scooped you up in a hug.  “YES YES YES!!!  SEE, I TOLD YOU GUYS THEY’D AGREE!”

“i can’t believe you’ve finally agreed,” Slim beamed.  He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead.  “welcome to the family, honey!”

You beamed.  “Thank you guys.  You all mean so much to me.”

“and you mean the world to us, darlin’,” Hound smiled.  “we love ya.”

“And I love you all too.”

[jjmaybankshousekeeping]

burden - jj maybank

summary - jj always feel like a burden to his girlfriend when she has to clean him up after he gets into a fight.

warnings - fluff, angst?

word count - 804

a/n - sorry if this isn't the best, i've never wrote anything like this before, but i'm trying my best. also, this ended up being a lot longer than anticipated, but oh well.

post number - 1

reader - she/her, fem!

add yourself to my taglist here

after a difficult eight hour shift, at the local walmart where she worked,  yn made her way back to the château, the place where she practically lived at this point. it’d been a busy night, with multiple new customers coming in every minute or so, and then piling onto the register, that she was working on, five minutes later. given that she was the only one working on the registers after six pm, it was a very stressful night.

but she could forget all about that and relax once she got back to the château and could sleep all of the stress away.

once yn got to the château, she went straight into the spare bedroom, which her boyfriend had claimed as his own, expecting to see him in bed already, either waiting for her or already asleep. mildly surprising yn, jj was nowhere to be seen. however, she didn’t worry; instead she assumed he’d gone out to smoke, or for a late surf or walk.

she climbed into the double bed and immediately melted into the soft mattress. she leant against her silky, white pillow to check on her unread messages that she’d gotten since last time she’d checked. while reading her messages, yn saw a blonde haired boy enter the room in the corner of her eye. she didn’t remove her eyes from the screen as she assumed that jj would just join her in bed momentarily, which he did. 

jj climbed underneath the duvet and moved over to where yn was sitting, before he dug his head into her stomach and snuggled up to her.

“hi, baby.” she said softly, still not looking away from the screen, running her hands through his soft blonde hair, “where’ve you been?”

“got caught up at the club.” jj mumbled into his girlfriends shirt, which previously belonged to him.

“hm?”

he repeated himself, “caught up at work.”

“your shift finished at eight… it’s on. what kept you there for so long?” yn asked, growing slightly suspicious, finally looking at jj.

“nothing, don’t worry.”

“jj..” her tone changed. yn knew when something was wrong with her boyfriend.

“it's nothing.”

yn tugged jj’s hair softly, to make him look at her. his face was covered in small cuts and bruises, and he had a crimson liquid dripping from the largest cut on his face, which sat just below his right eye. yn took jj’s face in her hand.

“baby.. what happened?” she ran her thumb across his cheek.

“nothin- it’s nothing.” he brushed it off.

“jj, don’t lie to me. what happened?”

“nothing. me and rafe just sorta got into it at the club. don’t worry about it.” he pushed yn’s hand off, before going to his own side of the bed.

“why? did he say something again?”

jj sighed, knowing there was absolutely no way she was letting it go, “he said something about me being your bitch, and about how i’m a pussy when you’re not around. i-” his voice got stuck in his throat, “i just lost it. i’m so sick of him. he treats us all like shit because his daddy has money and ours don’t.”

by this point, yn had noticed the tear rolling down jj’s face, and his voice breaking in between words. she wiped the tear from his face, “please don’t cry, love.”

“sorry- he just really gets to me.”

“i know. let’s just get you cleaned up, and we’ll talk about it in the mornin’, yeah? i can tell you’re tired.”

“i’ll be fine. let’s just go to sleep.”

“jj, these could get infected. they need to be cleaned, baby. please just let me help you.”

“it’s fine.”

“jj-”

“i said its fine!” he snapped, shocking yn slightly, “i’m sorry- i’m just sick of burdening you all of the fucking time. every time i get into a fight, there you are; having to clean me up like i’m a fucking child! you’re probably so sick of me.”

“jj maybank, don’t you dare think that again.” she cupped his face, “jj, you are my boyfriend, you are not a burden to me in any way whatsoever. the fact you would even think that hurts me a little.”

“sorry. but rafe isn’t wrong. everytime i fight, i come running to you for help-”

“you don't come running to me.” yn interrupted, “i help you because i want to help you, and i like helping you. that’s what girlfriends are for.”

“right. i know that, but he gets in my head.”

she smiled at him softly, “well don’t let him. his opinion means fuck all.”

he chuckled, “i love you, yn”

“I love you too, jj.” she pressed her lips against jj’s cut ones, softly, making sure not to hurt him anymore than he already was, “now let's get you cleaned up.”

[egipci]

Meditations

That’s seven hours that they’ve been gone now which you know because your dad sat you down and taught you how to read that old-school clock. The first time he drew a square and arms inside it and wrote in a twelve, a three, a six, a nine and he said when the big arm’s at the twelve I will be back, or a little after, between the twelve and the three I will be back. You said it’s a square, a clock’s not square, so he rounded over the corners and said a clock can be any shape but here you go here’s a circle and I’ll be back between the twelve and the three or by the six when it’s light outside but you shouldn’t wait up, you should listen to whatever your brother says, when he says time for bed you go to bed and I’ll be there before you know it. Between the three and the six. You nodded then but later you told your brother how the clock didn’t really look like the clock on the wall so he filled in the rest of the hours like he fills the hours you spend alone together. But now he’s not here. They didn’t say when they’re coming back and they’ve been gone for seven hours. You know this because you counted the hours on the clock. They didn’t say where they’re going and maybe it takes seven hours to get there. If it takes seven hours to get there then they just got there or maybe they’re not there yet but they’re about to get there and it takes some time to finish their business and then it will be another seven hours before they're back which means they’ll be back when it’s light outside which means they’ll be back just in time for school. But if they're not back in time you’ll have to miss class because Dad said don’t leave this house until we get back, unless when they get where they’re going Dean calls and says hey sleep tight we’re turning in but we’re heading back first thing in the morning we're seven hours away, which means maybe you’ll have time to go to school and back and Dad won’t even know it and all the while at school you’ll be at your desk wondering where are they, how far is that, what if they call again and I’m not home, what if they’re already on the way back, what if they’re rounding the corner and they're about to pull up into the driveway right now and I’m not there and Dad looks for me and freaks out and comes to pick me up before school’s over and he’s super pissed and starts shouting in the car about never going anywhere without him. But this will only happen if they come back tomorrow when you’re still at school. If you get back before they’re back you’ll wait for them and it’ll get dark again and you’ll be waiting for Dean’s call again and again you’ll be thinking maybe they’re not coming back, not tonight, they’re coming back tomorrow and maybe tomorrow on their way back something happens to them like Dad’s too tired and he’s driving anyway because he’s rushing to get to me and he’s driving real fast, because he called and I was’t there to pick up, he’s driving all sleepy and he starts to fall asleep and the car drifts off the road and flips over a bunch of times or it drifts left and a huge 18-wheeler is coming from the other side and the trucker can see them drifting but the truck is so huge he can’t stop it in time so he honks loud but Dad’s asleep because he’s tired and Dean’s in the passenger seat sleeping too and I'm not there to wake them up, so there’s nothing to do about it, and the truck runs into them and it crushes the car and when the ambulance gets there Dad and Dean are in a really bad state and they take them to the hospital and they need blood but I'm not there to give it, unless the EMTs get up to the car and they find Dad and Dean dead, if they find Dad and Dean already dead they won’t know anything about you so they won’t know to call you at the house or at school to tell you and you’re just waiting for them to come back but they’re not coming back, they’re not coming back tonight or tomorrow or ever because they’re already dead, they crashed on the way and you weren’t there and all this time they’ve been dead and they’re never coming back but no one knows to tell you.

[steddiealltheway]

Part Seven of Alone Together :))))))) Part One. Part Six. AO3 Link.

Steve paces around his living room. Eddie kissed him. That means he has to like him, yeah? Or was this just him going through with tradition? He did run out after it.  

Did he regret it? But he had kissed him twice. But he ran. 

Steve groans and flops down on his couch. He didn’t sleep well the night before, and he really needs a nap. He closes his eyes. 

What if this changes things between him and Eddie but not in a good way? What if Eddie realizes that he isn’t what he wants and things get awkward between them?  

Steve’s eyes blink open. He sighs wishing his thoughts would stop racing every time he tried to rest. He takes a deep breath. 

“Let’s approach this differently, Steve,” he mumbles resting his eyes. He imagines what would happen if all these what ifs went away and Eddie did like him. He smiles. Eddie would still flirt with him as always, maybe more obnoxiously than before, but this time Steve knows it’s real. And he could shut him up with a kiss. 

Before he realizes, Steve starts dozing off, dreaming of New Year’s kisses and resolutions made with Eddie. If only dreams could become reality. 

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve wakes up to the ringing of his telephone. He cracks one eye open and wills it to stop. To his surprise it does, and he immediately closes his eyes again. He drifts off for what feels like a short period but wakes up again to his doorbell ringing. 

He sits up with a grunt and runs a hand over his face. When did it get dark, and what time is it? He makes his way to his front door and opens it. “What do you want?” he asks to the small group standing in front of him.  

“We’ve been calling you for over an hour. We’re going to look at Christmas lights. Are you coming or not?” Dustin asks. 

Steve shivers. “What time is it?” 

“It’s like seven,” Will chimes in. 

Will, Dustin, Mike, and Lucas stare at him with slight concern. “Just... give me a few minutes,” Steve requests. 

“We’ll be waiting in the RV,” Lucas says, turning around. 

Steve’s eyes shoot up taking in the large vehicle he somehow didn’t see parked in front of his house. “You guys didn’t steal it this time, right?” 

“No, not this time. Eddie said he knew a guy and...” Dustin trails off. “We’re going to check on that.” 

As the four of them walk away, Mike and Will question when they stole an RV and Lucas and Dustin tell them the tale of Eddie hotwiring one. Steve shakes his head when he realizes how cool the kids think that is. He’ll have to make sure Eddie doesn’t teach any of them. 

He closes the front door and grabs an apple and some warmer clothes. And maybe he uses most of his few minutes to fix his hair while finishing the apple. He takes a deep breath before he walks outside. He locks his door and approaches the driver side door and knocks. 

Eddie swings the door open and hops out. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Steve says unable to hide his smile. He and Eddie kind of just hover there for a few moments, not knowing what to do in each other’s presence. Steve really wants to kiss him. 

The car horn beeps loudly. “Shut the door! It’s cold! Let’s go!” Dustin yells, laying on the horn. 

Steve squeezes Eddie’s shoulder and moves past him to climb in the vehicle. “Yeah, yeah, no need to cause a scene, dude.” 

“You literally don’t have neighbors, and no one is on the road.” 

“I’m saying that for future use. Now go sit down,” Steve says as Eddie climbs into the passenger seat. “Is everyone ready?” 

There’re shouts of affirmation, but Steve still makes sure to check that everyone is sitting down, and that Eddie has his seatbelt on, before he pulls out into the road. As he drives off, he realizes, “I have no idea where I’m going.”  

A hand squeezes his shoulder. “Don’t worry,” Nancy says, “I’m behind you with directions.” 

“Always prepared,” Steve comments with a small smile. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Eddie’s hand clench in a fist for a moment. He reaches over and rests his hand over Eddie’s which immediately relaxes and turns to hold Steve’s. 

Nancy guides them around from neighborhood to neighborhood while all the kids press up against the windows. They boo at houses with no lights and sing along to the Christmas tape in the car stereo. Jonathan even immerges with a thermos full of hot chocolate along with Styrofoam cups and marshmallows.  

Steve parks the RV when they go to their last stop at a decorated park. They all get out with cups in hand as they carefully hurry to a large, lit-up Christmas tree.  

Eddie chugs his cocoa and ends up yelling that he’ll race everyone to the tree. Only Dustin takes him up on it, and Steve chuckles as they run off.  

Robin comes up next to him and nudges him. “I saw that moment outside the RV earlier. What was that about?” She sips at her hot chocolate, but it doesn’t hide her prying grin. 

Steve glances around and takes note of them being a bit behind the rest of the group. Nancy even gives them their space to talk. Steve lowers his voice, “Don’t make a big deal about it but... Eddie and I kissed yesterday.” 

“You what?!” Robin yells, effectively getting everyone’s attention. She quickly realizes her mistake and yells back, “Sorry! Steve just told me that he took a sip of my hot chocolate when I wasn’t looking, and that means germs, and I really can’t be getting sick so close to Christmas because-” 

“We got it, sweetheart!” Nancy says with a knowing smile, redirecting the group’s attention elsewhere. 

“God, I love her. But you and Eddie kissed! You know that means he has to like you.” 

Steve sips at his drink then shakes his head. “Hardly. He did it because it’s tradition when there’s mistletoe.” 

“That actually worked?!” 

“That was you?” 

Robin laughs, “No, that was actually Nancy. Told me that was the push you two needed if what I was telling her was right.” Steve looks ahead at Nancy incredibly thankful that he was able to keep her in his life. “Hey, don’t look at my girlfriend like that.” 

Steve shoves Robin a bit and rolls his eyes. “You know I look at you the same way – strictly platonic.” 

“I know,” Robin says with a smile, wrapping her arm around Steve’s. 

They all make it to the tree where Eddie is holding Dustin in a headlock. “Let go of me you asshole!” Dustin yells but his giggling defuses all the venom in his tone. Eddie pulls him into a crushing hug instead before releasing him to Suzie. Steve catches Eddie’s eyes filled with childlike joy and gives him a smile. Eddie’s smiles at him equally as bright and joins him and Robin. 

Less than five minutes go by before the teens start complaining about being cold – after Argyle comments with chattering teeth about Indiana weather being way colder than California. Argyle and Max get into a discussion about it on the way back with her giving him tips on how to adjust. 

The drive back is spent mostly in silence besides the Christmas music still playing. Most of the people in the back start to doze off even though it’s not too late, but the nonstop holiday festivities are starting to catch up to them. 

Eddie rests a hand on Steve’s leg as he taps along to the rhythm of each song. And once Steve reassures Nancy that he knows where he is, she starts to doze off on Robin’s shoulder. At every stop sign, Steve picks up Eddie’s hand and presses a kiss to the back of it, and Eddie squeezes his thigh every time he puts it back down. Steve is glad the kids aren’t awake to comment about the cheesiness of it. 

The last stop is Robin’s house, and on her way out she covers Eddie’s ears and tells Steve, “Go get him, tiger.”  

Steve shouts out after her to never say that again, and she throws her head back and cackles. 

“Did you hear that?” Steve asks Eddie as he makes sure Robin gets inside safely. 

“Not a word, tiger,” Eddie replies with a wink. 

Steve curses under his breath and starts on his way back to his home. Eddie hums along to the Christmas music then slowly starts singing along. Steve reluctantly joins in praying Eddie won’t make a huge deal out of it. He does. 

Halfway to his house, Steve starts giving himself an internal pep talk. He can talk to Eddie and tell him he has feelings for him. He’s Steve Harrington, and when he knows what he wants he goes after it. No shame or hesitation. All he has to do is tell Eddie his feelings. Easy. 

“You alright over there?” Eddie asks tentatively. “You didn’t sing the chorus of ‘Rocking Around the Christmas Tree,’ and I just have a feeling that you love that song.” 

He’s right, but Steve isn’t going to admit that right now when he has something more pressing to admit. “Eddie I...” Steve trails off but Eddie waits patiently for once. “You know this pact we made?” 

Eddie clears his throat awkwardly, and Steve can see him fiddling with his rings out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, man, I remember.” 

“I was just thinking maybe we should... stop it.” 

Eddie doesn’t reply. Shit. This is what Steve was worried about. He doesn’t want to stop because he wants it to be fake. Maybe he really doesn’t like him. 

“Is this because I kissed you?” Eddie asks quietly. 

“No. I mean yeah. That’s partially it, but I think it was a nudge from Robin that finally pushed me in the right direction,” Steve admits. 

Eddie scoffs and coldly mutters, “The right direction. And this came from Buckley?” 

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He didn’t think Eddie would get rude about his feelings. “Yeah, Nancy too.” 

God, he feels like that was somehow the wrong thing to say too. Why is he upset that Robin and Nancy know about Steve’s feelings for him? 

“Sorry, this is going way worse than I imagined,” Steve admits hoping that will clear the air a bit as he sees his house in the distance. “I just needed to tell you how I feel because I really really like-” 

There’s an extra car in his driveway.  

“Fuck,” Steve panics. 

“It’s fine, dude. It’s whatever,” Eddie spits out. 

Why are his parents home early? Why right now? Steve comes to a stop further away from his house so his parents won’t be able to see him yet. He turns to Eddie. “I-” he stops when he takes in his appearance – fists clenched, mouth in a flat line, and eyes slightly watery. 

“Eddie, hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t think the news would upset you so much or I wouldn’t have said anything.” 

“You didn’t think it would upset me? Are you fucking kidding me?” Eddie asks. 

Steve shifts in his seat, and stares at Eddie in utter confusion. “I think... I think there’s been a misunderstanding. If not, I’m confused.” 

“Nope, I heard you loud and clear, Harrington. And you’re confused? Imagine how I feel! Christ, just fuck off, man.” 

What the fuck? “Are you kidding me?’ Steve asks in disbelief. “I tell you that I have feelings for-” A movement out of the corner of his eye cuts him off. The front door of his house opens. Shit. “You know what? Forget it. Bye, Munson and Merry Christmas.” Steve punctuates it with the slam of the car door. He walks towards his front porch where his mother stands. 

He can’t fucking deal with this right now. 

“Steven, honey? What were you doing in that thing?” His mom asks with clear disgust in her voice. 

“What are you doing home? I thought you were gone through the New Year,” Steve asks brushing past her and inside the house. 

“Shoes off at the door,” his mom says as he’s already unlacing his shoes. “Your dad and I are stopping by to grab a few things on our way to his next conference.” 

Great his dad is here. “How long are you staying?” 

“Tone, Steven. We’re leaving tonight.” 

Steve slowly turns to face her. “Tonight? It’s getting late, aren’t you going to stay the night?” Steve asks, because no matter how difficult his family is, tonight he wants at least some sort of peace of mind knowing he isn’t entirely alone in the house. 

“I’m afraid we just didn’t schedule it that way, but I’m glad I get to see you so I can give you your Christmas card in person.” His mom starts towards the table near the entrance where an envelope lays. She hands it to him, and Steve holds back a scoff. 

“Thank you, Mom. Merry Christmas. I’m going to go to bed – not feeling too well,” Steve lies, not having the energy to talk to her any longer. 

“Alright,” she replies with the least concern in the world. 

Steve is just happy she lets him go in peace. 

“Oh, and Steven, sweetie?” she calls out. Steve turns on the stairs. “Clean all of this up by New Years, will you?” She asks but it’s not a question. 

“Yes, Mother,” Steve says making his way to the room careful not to slam his door the way he wants to. He doubts his father will want to make an effort to see him, and he’s thankful for that. He can’t wait to explain to Robin how he got him, Tiger. 

Part Eight

Tag List, my loves:

@eddiesbabe95 @hagbaby420 @grtwdsmwhr @mightbeasleep @saramelaniemoon @bidisastersworld @spectrum-spectre @henderdads @wrenisflying @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @strangerthings1983fan @haluton

[thewidowsghost]

A Warrior's Return (Sacrifice - Pt. 2)

Part 1 - Sacrifice

Main Masterlist

Max’s eyes return to normal, and she falls to the ground.

Max pants, her eyes wild, and Lucas pulls Max into his arms.

Sobs rack Max’s body.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Lucas whispers.

“I’m here,” Max gasps, grabbing onto Lucas’s bicep and running her fingers down his arm, “I’m still here. I’m still here.”

The claws around Steve’s heart unclench, for this time, no one had died.

. . .

“Hey, Dustin, this is Eddie the Banished,” Eddie says into the walkie talkie. “You there? Dustin, can you hear me?”

Nancy Wheeler sits up at the sound of the walkie.

“Earth to Dustin,” Eddie continues.

“Hey, it’s Nancy,” Nancy says, answering Eddie.

“Wheeler! Hey!” Eddie says. “Um, I’m gonna need a food delivery, like, really soon, unless you want me going out into the world.”

“No. No, no, no. Don’t do that,” Nancy replies. “Stay where you are, and we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Eddie says. “Listen, um . . . can you pick me up a six-pack? I know it’s sutpid as shit, drinking right now, but a cold beer would really calm my jangled nerves.”

Nancy shifts in her seat on the floor before looking over to the couch Max had been sleeping on - the girl was gone.

“Hey, I’m gonna have to call you back,” Nancy says, dropping the walkie and shaking Dustin’s shoulder. “Wake up,” Nancy says, shaking the boy’s shoulders again.

“What?” Dustin questions.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on Max watch?” Nancy asks.

“Yep,” Dusin replies, “Yep, yep, yep. Sorry.”

“Then where is she?” Nancy questions.

“She’s right there,” Dustin gestures to the empty couch, then he starts. “A second ago. I swear, I just dozed off for . . . an hour.”

Nancy and Dustin sprint up the stairs three at a time, then enter the kitchen. The two relax when they spot Max sitting at the kitchen table, once again bundled up in her sister’s jacket. Max is leaning over the table, her headphones over her ears.

“Morning guys,” Mrs. Wheeler says, setting a plate of pancakes down onto the island. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Nancy says, glancing between Max and her mother.

Max looks over at the sound of Nancy’s voice.

“I think it’s so sweet that you guys are sticking together like this,” Mrs. Wheeler continues.

“Could try sticking together at a different house for a change,” Mr. Wheeler says, not looking up from his newspaper.

Nancy moves over to the table, sitting down beside Max.

Before anybody can speak, the doorbell rings.

Mrs. Wheeler frowns a little as she moves to the front door. That she knew of, all the kids are already at her house, but her eyes widen considerably when she opens the door.

“Hi, Mrs. Wheeler,” the figure says and Mrs. Wheeler’s mouth drops open a little. “Um, is Max here?” (Y/n) Mayfield rasps.

Mrs. Wheeler’s mouth closes with a clop and she nods. “Come on in,” Mrs. Wheeler says. Her eyes flicker to the girl’s shaved head, her thin frame, and muscular arms. “You’re welcome to breakfast,” the woman says kindly.

“Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler,” (Y/n) murmurs, following the woman through the house.

(Y/n) catches sight of the figure sitting at the table and almost doesn’t recognize her. Max was definitely older - her hair was longer, she seemed taller sitting in the seat, and she looked overly stressed. A pang shatters (Y/n)’s heart for a moment, wondering if her ‘death’ was still the cause of her sister’s stress.

“Max,” (Y/n)’s voice cracks without her consent, but her voice was loud enough that her sister heard.

When Max looks up, (Y/n) takes in the haunted look on her sister’s face.

Once again, a pain stabs at (Y/n)’s heart when her sister doesn’t seem to acknowledge her presence.

Max turns to Nancy, who was staring at (Y/n) with wide eyes.

“Are you seeing this?” Max asks Nancy, who nods.

With confirmation from the older girl, Max gets up from the table, rushing into her sister’s arms.

“How -” Max goes to ask, but she quiets when (Y/n) buries her face into the crook of her sister’s neck - Max a good three inches taller than (Y/n) now, most likely to (Y/n)’s malnutrition.

Wrapping her arms around her older sister’s body, Max, like everyone else who’d hugged (Y/n) - or seen her - takes note of her thinness. But (Y/n) doesn’t move, and Max softens even more when she feels something wet drip onto her neck, and both sisters know that it’s tears.

(Y/n) pulls back, her hands resting on Max’s forearms. “Is that my jacket?” she asks, gesturing to the teal fabric.

“I’m not giving it back,” Max replies and (Y/n) smiles waterily.

Mrs. Wheeler sets a plate of pancakes and bacon on the table, and Max forces her sister to sit down and eat.

(Y/n) looks up from her plate, looking at the drawings littering the table.

“Is this what you saw yesterday?” Nancy asks Max, whose gaze falls onto the drawings as well.

The redhead nods. “I mean, it’s supposed to be. I thought it would be easier to draw it out than to explain it, but . . . not so much.”

“Is that?” Nancy asks, pulling a drawing of two people with no eyes and their limbs bent the wrong ways.

“It was like they were on display or something,” Max replies, staring down at the drawings. “And then there was this red fog everywhere. It was like a dream. A nightmare.” Max glances up at (Y/n), the haunted look in her eyes returning.

“You think Vecna’s just trying to scare you?” Nancy asks and (Y/n)’s expression asks the question - Who is Vecna?

“With -?” Max pauses. “Yeah. But when I made it here . . .” Max gestures to her drawings. “I dunno, something was different. He seemed surprised, almost. Like he didn’t want me there.”

Dustin leans forward in his seat. “Maybe you infiltrated his mind,” Dustin offers. “He invaded your mind, right? Is it that big a leap to suggest you somehow wound up in his? Like Freddie Kruger’s boiler room.”

“Freddie Kruger?” Holly, Nancy’s younger sister, asks.

“He’s a super burned-up dude with razors for fingers,” Dustin explains and the girl’s eyebrow raises. “And he kills you in your dreams?”

“Seriously?” Nancy asks Dustin.

“He’s not real,” (Y/n) soothes, looking at the six-year-old. “It’s just a movie.”

“It’s not real,” Dustin repeats (Y/n). “Just . . . think about it,” he continues. “What if you somehow unlocked a backdoor to Vecna’s world?” (Y/n)’s appetite leaves her and she pushes the plate away. “Like, maybe the answer we’re looking for is somewhere in this incredibly vague drawing.”

(Y/n) quirks her head at the drawing, then she stands up, rounding the table to stand between Nancy and Dustin.

“God, we need Will,” Dustin says, looking at one of the drawings.

“No shit,” Max replies and (Y/n)’s eyes flick up to meet Max’s. “But I tried them again this morning, and it’s the same busy signal.”

(Y/n) takes what looks like a stained glass window drawing from Dustin. “Is this a window?” she asks.

Max blinks with surprise. “Yeah,” Max replies.

“Stained glass with roses,” (Y/n) taps the table trying to remember.

“Yeah. See?” Max glances over at Dustin. “I’m not so terrible after all.”

(Y/n) begins taking the drawings and folding them at. She takes a sharpie and begins to draw the outlines of the house.

“It’s pieces of a house,” Max realizes.

“Not just any house,” Nancy says, picking up

“The Creels?” (Y/n) tries. “Dude killed his wife and two kids after cutting out their eyeballs.”

“How do you know that?” Nancy asks.

“I was a Weekly Watcher fan,” (Y/n) replies. “I mean, not seriously.”

“You would get along well with Robin,” Nancy remarks, getting to her feet.

“Where are you going?” Dustin asks, his mouth full of pancake.

“To wake the others,” Nancy replies.

A minute later, the rest of the kids, Robin, and Steve run up the stairs. They stare, wide eyed at (Y/n), and she waves shyly, which was unlike her.

Steve grins, making his way over and hugging the girl.

“Hey, man,” (Y/n) smiles slightly, hugging the man.

As the kids are leaving the house, (Y/n) grabs another pancake and a piece of sausage, eating the pancake and sausage like a burrito.

Steve tilts his head at the girl.

“What?” (Y/n) asks, her mouth half full. “I’m starving.”

. . .

The car stops outside the Creel House and Max, Lucas, (Y/n), Dustin, Robin, Steve, and Nancy get out of the car.

There is a silence as the group stares at the house.

Max reaches over and takes her sister’s hand. (Y/n) jumps a little at the contact, but then she relaxes.

“Yeah, that’s not creepy,” Steve remarks, combing his hair out of his eyes.

Steve and (Y/n) use hammers to pry off the wood covering the door.

“What exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?” (Y/n) questions.

“We’re not sure,” Nancy admits. “We just know this house is important to Vecna.”

“Who is?” (Y/n) prompts.

“He’s from the -” Dustin begins.

“Upside Down,” (Y/n) replies. “I figured.”

“He hunts down teens who’ve faced trauma,” Dustin continues, grinning slightly at (Y/n)’s deadpan.

(Y/n) glances at her sister as she pulls out the last nail.

“Maybe the house holds a cue to where Vecna is. Why he’s back. Why he killed the Creels,” Dustin says.

“Or who he is,” (Y/n) reasons.“Finding out who he is might help us figure out the other questions.”

“I missed having our genius around,” Lucas says, nudging (Y/n) who smiles at the younger boy. “We don’t think he’s in here, do we?” Lucas asks.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Max replies.

(Y/n) and Nancy step back as the plywood hits the porch; all the kids flinch, stepping back.

Steve steps forward, rattling the doorknob. “It’s locked,” he says. “Should I knock, see if anybody’s home?”

“Dude, I doubt anybody’s home,” (Y/n) replies, crossing her arms over her chest.

“There’s no need,” Robin pipes up and (Y/n) glances over at the older girl. She lifts a brick and (Y/n) grins. “I found the key.”

The window shatters and glass rattles as it hits the floor.

Steve sticks his arm through the broken window, and reaches down, turning the knob.

The door screeches as it opens.

Steve is the first to enter the house, Nancy, Robin, and (Y/n) just behind him.

Max follows her sister closely, and when they enter the house where there’s more space, she hands (Y/n) a flashlight, then takes her hand.

(Y/n) squeezes her sister’s hand, and Max almost comments on how rough and calloused they are.

Lucas and Dustin follow the others into the house. Lucas moves over to one of the lamps and attempts to light it.

“Looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill,” Lucas deadpans and (Y/n)’s lips twitch. She’d forgotten how nice it was to be around her friends. But that wasn’t true. She’d wished for the company of her friends, no, her family, for the last year.

The others turn on their flashlights, and Steve asks, “Where’d everyone get those?”

“Do you need to be told everything?” Dustin asks, turning to his friend. “You’re not a child,” Dustin says and (Y/n) chuckles.

“Thank you,” Steve replies, glancing at (Y/n) and then Dustin.

“Huh,” Dustin says, unslinging his backpack and handing it to Steve. “Back pocket.”

Steve takes the pack, pulls out a flashlight, and drops the backpack to the floor.

Nancy’s flashlight sweeps the room, “They just left everything.”

“I guess a triple homicide isn’t good for resale value,” Robin replies and (Y/n) laughs slightly.

“Hey, guys?” Max’s voice comes from the other side of the room. “You all see that, right?”

“Yeah,” Dustin replies.

“Yeah,” Steve answers.

(Y/n) stares up at the grandfather clock, her eyebrows furrowing.

“Is that what you saw?” Nancy questions Max. “In your visions?”

Max swallows thickly, and (Y/n) takes her sister’s hand.

“I mean, it’s . . . just a clock.” Robin meets (Y/n)’s gaze over Max’s shoulder. “Right?” Robin takes a step closer to the clock, looking at the dusty glass covering the clock piece and the hands. She uses a hand to wipe the glass, making a squeaking noise, and (Y/n) cringes at the noise. “Like a normal old clock.”

“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” Steve wonders aloud, staring at the ancient clock. “Maybe he’s like, a clockmaker or something?” Steve questions.

“I think you cracked the case, Steve,” Dustin says sarcastically.

“All I know,” Nancy says, and the others turn to her, “is that the answers are here. Somewhere.”

Max grips her sister’s hand tighter, and looks around.

“Okay, everyone stay in groups of two,” Nancy takes charge. “Robin, me and you, upstairs.

(Y/n) and Max pair up, leaving Lucas, Dustin, and Steve together.

. . .

Max’s tape deck is playing “Running Up That Hill” on a loop faintly in the background. The deck clicks off, and Max scrambles to reset the deck.

“I wish we had a longer loop,” (Y/n) says, Lucas having quietly and quickly filled her in on the details about Vecna and the song in the back of Nancy’s car.

“Forty-six minutes isn’t so bad,” Max replies, studying her sister. “I think there are bigger concerns.” She reaches over, her hands brushing through the buzzed hair. (Y/n) doesn’t say anything as the action seemed to calm Max. “Like, what if, by listening to this over and over again, I get sick of it, and suddenly it’s not my favorite anymore? Will it still work? Or will Kate Bush, like, lose her magic power or something?”

(Y/n) looks over at her sister. “Kate Bush could never,” (Y/n) replies, reaching out and taking Max’s hand.

“I forgot you were a Kate Bush fan,” Max says, smiling slightly.

“Even if I wasn’t before,” (Y/n) continues, meeting her sister’s gaze seriously, “I would damn be now. She saved your life. Besides, we’re hot on this creep’s trail. We’ll find Vecna before he can hurt you again.” (Y/n), trying to brighten her sister’s spirits, turns towards a piano. “Maybe if we hit a few keys in the right order, we’ll open a door to his secret layer.” (Y/n) plays a horribly out of tune cord, very different from her actual piano skills.

Max laughs, “You, (Y/n) Mayfield, are a dork.”

(Y/n) smiles wistfully. “I missed this.”

“What?” Max’s expression falls slightly.

“You. Our friends,” (Y/n) replies, but then she drives her feelings away. Her goal, as it always had been - and always will - would be to keep her sister safe.

A set of lights flickers, and (Y/n) pushes Max behind her. The wall sconce makes a slight thrumming noise.

“I promise I’m gonna stop asking this, but . . .” Max begins.

“Yeah, I can see it,” (Y/n) interrupts, knowing what her sister’s question was going to be.

Max moves out from behind (Y/n) reaching for the light, but as she goes to touch one of the shakes, the light flickers out. Max stares at the light before (Y/n) nudges her.

“Look,” she murmurs. Another light, outside in the main hall, had begun to flicker. (Y/n) swallows thickly and follows her sister out of the room, following the trail of flickering lights.

. . .

Night had fallen by the time (Y/n) and Max had rounded everyone else up, their flashlights shining through the dusty air of the house.

All of the kids are staring up at the chandelier in the middle of the room, pulsating with a yellow light.

“It’s like the Christmas lights,” (Y/n) murmurs.

“Christmas lights?” Robin asks questioningly.

“Yeah, when Will was in the Upside Down,” Nancy answers her girlfriend’s question, “the lights . . . came to life.”

“Vecna’s here,” Lucas murmurs, taking Max’s unoccupied hand - (Y/n) was grasping the other tightly. “In this house.” Dustin glances over at Lucas, nodding slightly. “Just on the other side.”

Suddenly, the light flickers out, leaving the group standing in a semicircle, the only light in the room coming from the flashlights in their hands.

“I think he just left the room,” Robin says, her voice quavering.

“D-did he h-hear us?” Max asks, pressing into her sister’s side, desperate for a reply - and comfort.

“Can he see us?” Steve adds with a frown.

“Headphones,” (Y/n) and Lucas say in unison.

“Wait, wait!” Nancy says quickly. “Everyone, turn off your flashlights and spread out.

The others - with no other ideas - follow Nancy’s words.

“We’re not going to be able to see if we -” Steve just sighs. “Jesus Christ.”

. . .

In the attic of the Creel House, all the flashlights’ bulbs shatter, chunks of glass flying up.

(Y/n) inhales sharply as a huge piece of glass imbeds itself into her cheek.

. . .

“Not to be a wimp,” Robin says, using a pair of tweezers to pull the chunk of glass out of (Y/n)’s cheek, “but can I sit in the car?” She glances over at her girlfriend in the driver’s seat. “‘Cause this is gonna totally and royally suck.”

“It’ll be -” Nancy pauses, “fine.”

“I can’t stand to see those dull eyes of Eddie’s break again,” Robin mutters, using some medical tape to secure some gauze onto (Y/n)’s cheek.

“At least he can drink himself into feeling better,” Steve manages, his mouth full of crackers.

“That’s what my mom does,” Max replies without thinking, and (Y/n) glances at her sister, her eyes wide with question.

“Why don’t we just give it a trial run?” Robin says, patting (Y/n)’s patched up cheek gently, before turning her attention to Nancy. “‘Hey, Eddie. Uh, good news first this time. We got you some Dustin-approved junk food and that six-pack you requested. Oh yeah, and we found Vecna. The only bad news is that he’s in that other, darker, much scarier dimension, and the gate’s closed, so we have now way of getting to him. He’s entirely shut off to us, so basically, you’re screwed.’”

Nancy glances over at Robin, finding the rambling really cute, but she has no idea what to say in reply.

But Robin just continues, “‘And, no, I know you were already screwed, but now you’re doubly, triply screwed.’”

“Ey, Rob,” (Y/n) interrupts her friend. “Maybe we don’t put it like that.”

“We’re one step closer to finding Vecna,” Nancy scrambles for a positive. “That’s what we say. That’s what’s important.”

“See, Robin?” Steve asks his friend. “Positive spin can make all the difference.”

“Uh-huh,” Robin rolls her eyes.

“Shit,” Nancy says, staring at the roadblock.

Word Count: 3169 words

Taglist:

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@wayward-saint

@uselessbutinteresting

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[getsojaded]

non refundable vii | calum hood

a/n: hello & happy new year!! wishing you all the best for 2023. this part is a tad short but i know i kind of left the last little bit on a cliffhanger(-ish) and it’s been a whiiiileee since i updated this so i hope u guys enjoy :)) mwah xo

—

Unlocking the door to their shared hotel room, he’s expecting a sleeping Y/N in their bed. But his heart drops once he realizes that there’s nobody in there but their suitcases.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, where did she go?” He whispers to himself, checking the closets and washroom just in case she was hiding. Nobody there. He starts to panic, and runs out of the hotel room and into the elevator, violently pressing the main lobby’s button.

“Can’t this shit go any faster?!” He exclaims, banging his fist on one of the walls of the elevator. After what felt like centuries, the elevator doors opened. Running out and towards the front desk, the workers are quite confused and scared as to why the six foot man with fear written all over his face is rushing to them.

“Have you seen a girl about this tall, wearing glasses? She’s not in our hotel room and I have no idea where she went.” He asks the two women at the desk, out of breath.

“I saw a girl in a green hoodie with glasses leave about an hour ago. She was crying, and I asked her what was wrong and if she needed any help. She said that she got into an argument with her boyfriend, and that she’s going to go look for him. I was going to ask her for her number in case he - I mean - you - came back but she ran off before I could say anything.” She responds.

Green hoodie. Empathy hoodie. That’s his Y/N she’s describing. “Do you have any idea where she went?!” He asks, extremely stressed out, running his fingers through his hair. “No sir, I’m sorry.” And that’s all it takes for Calum to run out of the hotel lobby, into the crisp Japan air.

He has no idea where to start looking for her, but then comes to the realization that he had never turned on his phone.

from m’girl x

calum where are you

it’s late and ur wandering in a city that ur not from at 2 am

im freaking out

baby please

im sorry

i love you too i love you so fucking much i’m sorry just please come back to the hotel

i’m so sorry

His shaking hands click on her contact, bringing his phone up to his ear. The rings are deafening as she doesn’t pick up with each ring. He’s about to end the call and try again, but she picks up on the last ring. “C-Cal?”

He feels a weight come off his shoulders once he hears her voice. “Y/N, baby, where are you?!” His voice cracks, trying to keep his tears at bay. “I-I’m lost. I went to go look for you, b-but I went too far and I d-don’t know where I am. I’m sitting at, I’m sitting at a bench at a p-park, I was waiting here in c-case you’d pass by,” She chokes out in between her sobs, and with each cry, she cuts out a little piece of Calum’s heart. “I love you, Cal. I’m s-so sorry. Please come get me.”

“Send your location, my love. I’m coming, okay? Stay right there, I’m on my way,” His shaky breath responds as he receives a notification from Y/N, sending her current location. “M-my phone’s about to die, Cal please hurr-” and the line cuts off, indicating that her phone is now dead. “FUCK!” he yells out, about to make a run to the location she was currently at. But he stops in his tracks once he hears a petite voice call out for him. “Sir, sir!” He turns around to see one of the ladies at the front desk, holding up a pair of car keys. “I’m not supposed to do this, but it’s really late and you need to find your girlfriend. Take this car, and just park it back where it was before when you get back.” He runs over to the small employee, giving her a hug and thanking her for her help, before getting into the driver's seat and flooring it to her location.

What’s supposed to be a ten minute drive turns into a three minute drive from the speed Calum’s going at, beating every red light he can and not bothering to stop at stop signs. Once he arrives at the park, he doesn’t bother to turn off the car as he puts it in park and runs towards the benches.

“Y/N?!” his broken voice calls out, eyeing each bench with no girl in sight. But there she was, at the last bench, in the green empathy hoodie, knees tucked into her chest, her head looking down.

Her head peeks up at the sound of her name, and sees Calum running towards her. She gets up from her seat and runs as fast as her legs can take her, collapsing into his arms as he holds her as tightly as he can. “I’m so sorry, Calum.” She sobs out, her small body shaking against his as he sways their bodies back and forth. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I love you, it’s okay. Let’s go back, it’s okay.”

The drive back to the hotel was silent, aside from their breaths from crying. Once he had parked the car in its designated spot, the two of them walk back into the hotel lobby hand in hand. Both eyes bloodshot red, with tears staining their whole faces and tired bodies. Calum walks towards the two workers, giving back the car keys. “Thank you so much,” He whispers to them, the two ladies nodding in response. “We’re glad you found her. Take it easy tonight, you two.”

Although Y/N’s confused, she gives the workers a nod and a smile before they both walk into the elevator. She’s clutching onto his arm, leaning her head on his shoulder. She’s afraid if she loosens her grip anymore, he’ll be out of her reach, for good this time.

Calum and Y/N are throwing their arms around each other the moment they unlock the door and kick their shoes off. Just when Y/N thought her tears were over for the night, her uncontrollable sobs are the only thing you hear in their room.

They’re tired, they’re in pain, and they’re in love. As the heavy breathing and sniffles arise, they can’t do anything else but hold each other tighter, making up for the months they weren’t able to have each other close.

“I love you, Cal. I’m so sorry.” She whispers. “I didn’t mean to get lost. I just wanted to find you because I was so worried and you weren’t responding and-“

“Hey, none of that. I’m sorry I even left in the first place. I should’ve let you know where I am and that I was okay. You were just looking out for me, and I love you so much for that.” Calum cuts off Y/N’s rambling. She looks up at him, and he wonders how she still manages to be the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid his eyes on — even when there’s tears streaming down her face.

She takes his face in her hands and presses her lips into his, giving him the long awaited kiss he’s been dying for since the moment they arrived. He immediately deepens the kiss, nostalgia, love, and everything in between hitting the both of them all at once. Calum can’t help but slip his tongue in her mouth, and his knees almost buckle at her little whimper of a reaction.

They’ve missed this, God they’ve missed this so much and they’ve never wanted anything more than to be in this moment — holding one another after months of yearning for each other.

Y/N pulls away to catch her breath, Calum’s grip tightening on her waist. She can’t help but giggle at the sudden grabs at her hips, Calum pecking her lips once more. “Can’t let you walk out again, baby.” He jokes, moving his hands up to her face to wipe away her tears.

As Y/N’s about to speak, she lets out a big yawn, and looks at the time right after. “Holy shit, 3 am,” she sighs, walking towards the bed and getting under the covers. “You gonna come join me?” She asks, resulting in Calum immediately jumping into the empty spot next to her, as she snuggles into his side. He wraps his arm around her body, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead.

“It’s been a long day, we need sleep,” she groans, placing her hand on his chest. “Talk tomorrow?”

She feels Calum’s head nod against her body. “A lot to unpack tomorrow. We need all the rest we can get.” He responds, her humming in response. “Goodnight, Cal.” she softly says.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“And Cal?”

“Yeah?”

“I never stopped loving you, either.”

—

taglist — @someinsanefangirl @lucyjafari @i-s-a-b-e-l-l-a-o @valesnicks @juhvette @perfctcalum @bohemianhargrove @fobodob @wldflwrbby @wiiildflowerrr @fangirl-candy @asmilinghopefullromantic @jazzymariexoxoc @caramelcalum @imightcry-blog @leomoonbaby @dreaded-awakening @mytlrh @noraskaar @sonoma @sunkissedruel @rafeyybabyy @soomanybands @dasguccier

[greghatecrimes]

Once again I am yearning to write but have very little energy. Have a snippet of Chase's thoughts on him and Thirteen being like siblings from a few weeks back. Post After Hours, hopefully to be continued into a full one-shot.

He’s struck by how eerily this feels like a moment from another lifetime. A lifetime where his mother had never fallen down the bottle; a lifetime where his father might have stayed. Where he’d never been forced to grow up too fast and then felt the overwhelming need to run, abandoning his sister for the seminary, and then for the States. In another life, his sister would be sitting where Thirteen is, Princeton would be Melbourne, and they’d be sitting on his sofa after work, just like this; watching crappy movies with pizza and cheap wine and taking comfort in each other’s presence.  He thinks back to the last time he spoke to her, after he found out that their father died. Had he told her that he missed her? That he loved her? That he was proud of her for straightening out, living her life for something other than the numbing haze of alcohol and the bitter thrill of spite?  Chase glances at Thirteen on the couch beside him, legs pulled to her chest, chin resting on her knees. The dark circles under her eyes have only gotten more pronounced as they both approach thirty-six hours without any sleep, nearing the same shade of purple as the bruise he’d left on her neck. There’s still a twinge of guilt when he remembers what it had felt like to throw her to the ground after it became clear she wasn’t going to stop fighting, her blue eyes wide with shock and hurt and betrayal. But he’d done the right thing, hadn’t he? He’d just been looking out for her; he'd just wanted to stop her from doing something she couldn’t come back from. It’s what he would have wanted someone to do for his sister. Would Thirteen's brother have done the same?  Had she gotten to have one last conversation with him before she pushed the plunger, or had the Huntington’s stolen too much for him to say any more than those two words? (It’s time.) Did she know in those last moments that her brother would miss her? That he loved her? That he was proud of her?  Chase decides that she needs to know. She needs to hear it from someone, even if he's not the brother she needs him to be. “You know,” he says evenly, breaking the silence. “You remind me a lot of my sister.” That grabs her attention. She glances away from the TV to look at him curiously. “…You have a sister. That’s new.”  “We don’t… talk much. Not since she was small.” He admits. He just needs to tell her and be done with it. He’s starting to fumble his words. “But I was thinking and, you know… you remind me a lot of her. Too clever for your own good. Stubbornly brave. Compassionate.” He takes a breath and goes straight for the heart of it before he can lose his nerve.  “I’d be proud if she had grown up into someone like you.” Thirteen stares at him for a moment, processing. After a second of hesitation, she forces out a stunted, awkward laugh. “You… can’t actually mean that.” When Chase doesn’t refute, she furrows her brows and frowns at him in disbelief. “I have Huntington’s. I went to prison. I euthanized my brother.” She shakes her head at him. “...The only reason you’re able to say that is because you’re as fucked up as I am.”  “No,” Chase insists. “I really would be. You’re a good person, Remy. You’re a good doctor.” he swallows and finds that, for some reason, he can’t quite look her in the eye. “After everything today… sure, we fucked up, but we worked together and made it through. I’m proud of us.”  There’s a long pause, and Chase briefly wonders if he should have said anything at all. When he glances back up, Thirteen’s got her eyes trained on the TV, careful not to look at him.  “…Thanks,” she finally says, choked up. “…Thank you. I mean it.”  He moves a little closer to her and rests one arm along the back of the couch, just behind her shoulders. “I do, too.” he tells her. Thirteen heaves out a quiet sigh. She allows her head to fall softly against the side of Chase's shoulder, and for the first time all evening, lets the weight of exhaustion pull her eyes closed.

[grenue]

Withered Soul, One Goal | Incorrect Quotes

*The few is playing a team sport* TC: Are you upset you don’t get to be on the same team as Goldy? Rose: Have you ever played a game with Goldy? TC: No… Rose: Have you ever been trapped in a cage with a wolverine? *Meanwhile, on the other side of the field* Goldy, chasing Moon: I SAID FASTER! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE WORD “FASTER” MEANS? IT MEANS MORE FAST!!!! | Goldy: Where are you going? Moon: To either get ice cream or commit a felony. I'll decide on the way. | Moon: At this point I have to confess… I started to feel a little bad for Rose. Maybe it was the fact that I had just outperformed them at their own game, or maybe it was that I held an obvious advantage over the poor bastard. Maybe it was just that unbearable to look into their eyes. Either way, I started to wonder if maybe this was a pointless endeavor after all. What was I doing to this person? What was I trying to prove? Was this really some grand, noble quest, to tear an overconfident fraud from their unearned throne? To show everyone that I was right. That Rose did not deserve to stand at that zenith, to lord over all their lowly competitors. Or… perhaps… was I really just doing this for myself? Beating an opponent within an inch of their life over and over and over again… all for my own petty ego. All to fill this emptiness inside of me. I asked myself, was Rose really the bad guy? Or was it me, all along? Moon: But then I remembered that Rose ain’t shit, and I got over it! | Sun: Hey I just got a pet snake. What should I name him? Space: A pet WHAT?! Moon: William Snakespeare. | TC: I was put on this earth to do one thing. TC: Luckily I forgot what it was so I can do whatever I want. | Goldy: I just watched Moon jump off of a spinning chair. Luckily, they weren't hurt that badly. But the whole time, Rose was screaming for help, which caused Space to run in to help Moon. Just note that all of this happened in the span of six minutes. | *The gang's cooking skills* Sun: *master chef* Goldy: *knows a few recipes* Eclipse: *can follow instructions on a box* Moon: *made toast once* TC: *banned from the kitchen*

|

Moon: Legend says that when you can’t sleep, it means you’re awake in someone else’s dreams. Moon: When I find out who you are, I’m going to punch you in the face.

|

TC: Priest kink is definitely a thing and I am afflicted by it. Space: Go to church. Space: WAIT—

|

Rose: Why's it called an oven when you of in the cold food and you of out hot eat the food? Goldy: ...What???

|

Goldy: Go to hell! Eclipse: Oh! I’ve been there, thank you. I found it quite lovely.

|

Moon: So, Sun is late today. Anyone wanna bet why? Moon: I say they slipped through the subway grate and is having terrible sex with the mole man. Rose: I don't know about that...I think either their alarm clock didn't go off, or they're in line at the bank. TC: Take this more seriously! Sun was clearly taken in their sleep! Space: I bet they tucked themselves into the bed too tightly and got stuck. Eclipse: Maybe they fell into another dimension where they're more interesting...? *Sun arrives* Sun: Sorry I'm late - there was a problem at the bank. Rose, clapping their hands in excitement: HOT DAMN!

|

Rose, tied up with Goldy: Its hard to resist, I'm really sorry- I mean, considering your approach so far, you had us tied here for- what? Hours? And you haven’t even had us confirm what exactly we are! Kidnapper: What are you then? Rose: I'm a Virgo!

Goldy: HAH!

|

Rose: So jellyshish- Sun, laughing: JELLYSHISH!? Rose: You know what I meant!

|

Eclipse: Being gay isn't a choice. It's a game and I'm winning.

(Grenue's note: This is just Eclipse in general-)

[jalapenobee]

Dreams

Keith sat up in his bed at 1 in the morning. Why? Because of Lance. He was going to appear any second now, Keith knew it. And honestly, he couldn’t wait for the Cuban to show up.

After a particularly hard battle, the paladins of Voltron were getting ready to sleep on a foreign planet while the lions and castle recharged. Keith couldn’t sleep, so he sat on top of the red lion (yes, I like to ignore the lion switch) and watched for any danger.

He was staring off at the stars when he heard a strange rustling noise coming from below. He got on his knees and crawled to the edge of the lion and looked down, but he couldn’t see anything. So, grabbing his bayard, he descended the lion to scout out.

The noise was gone.

And then behind him.

Keith whipped around, aiming his sword at a shadow that he couldn’t really make out (pfft). He scowled.

“Identify yourself.”

“Jeez, calm down Mullet. It’s only me.” Lance was standing there, his hair messy and his eyes still held that dazed, tired look.

“Thank god. I thought it was something dangerous.”

Keith lowered his bayard and Lance rolled his eyes, stepping closer. “You know, Pidge said that same thing to me in a dream once.”

“You dream about Pidge?”

“I don’t know. I helped her with some stuff earlier that day, so yeah.”

“What else do you dream about?”

So Lance started telling Keith about his dreams, like the one where Slav took on the body of a talking dog, or the one where Keith was stabbing a shark and then kissed him (but he didn’t mention that last part).

Lance then burst into Keith’s room, a huge smile on his face. “I think I just had the best dream ever.”

Keith smirked. “You said that last night. And the night before that.”

And the night before that.

Lance pouted, sat next to Keith on his bed, and started to talk about his latest dream. Something about Shiro acting like a six year old and then trying to work his lion.

I could listen to him talk for hours. His voice is nice. I wonder if he dreams of me. Does he? Would that be weird? Maybe. Depends on what I’m doing. What if he- oop, he’s out.

Lance’s energy had been drained while he was talking and Keith was thinking, and he was now passed out on Keith’s bed. Again. So Keith moved him to a proper position and put a blanket over him. Then he grabbed one of his pillows and tossed it on the floor, preparing to sleep. But he remembered what Lance had said.

“You slept on the floor again? Next time, Mullet, just sleep in the bed.”

Keith sighed, put the pillow back, and crawled under the covers, careful to avoid touching Lance. Just as he closed his eyes, he heard some rustling and a quiet, sleepy voice.

“Keith?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re sleeping in the bed tonight, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And when I wake up, you’ll be here, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. I can’t have you sleeping on the floor again. It’s cold, Keith.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sweet dreams, sharpshooter.”

~Timeskip because I didn’t know how to write this~

What smells so good?

Lance woke up, his face in Keith’s hair and Keith’s face in Lance’s chest. He didn’t mind, of course, but now he understood why Keith didn’t want to sleep in the same bed.

Keith was… very warm.

And Lance didn’t want to let go.

So he braided Keith’s hair and hummed a tune to himself, enjoying the quiet. He decided he liked sleeping Keith, because he didn’t look angry or even sad. And he liked the way his breaths were quiet and steady, not big and gasping for air.

However, when Keith groaned and woke up, he immediately pushed Lance in a blushing (gay) mess.

A little too far. Like, off the bed.

“Sorry! I forgot you were there!”

Lance groaned and rubbed his head. “Looks like I’m not the only one who forgets our bonding moments, huh?”

“So you do remember.”

“Hold on-”

“You lied?”

And Lance was running. From Keith.

“Shiro, control yoUR BROTHERRRR!”

703 words

I said I’d write this, didn’t I?

Sorry it was rushed, hope you like

[colorsunimaginable]

the spare // chapter forty-six // death eater ! tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary:  While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words this chapter: 3.5k warnings for this chapter: none

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Forty-Six:

Narcissa takes me on a tour of the grounds and the Manor, which takes up most of the afternoon. I don’t really say much besides smiling politely. My brain is fried from everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours.

She shows me to the room I’ll be staying in and I’m kinda disappointed it’s not Thomus’. The trunk Thomus let me borrow is already on the bed.

“Dinner will be ready soon and I’ve let Hermione know to come collect you,” Narcissa says from the doorway.

I move into the room and pop the trunk. “Thanks,” I say, giving her a small smile over my shoulder. “See you soon then.”

She closes the door and I feel a headache coming on. I’m so exhausted.

There’s a small wardrobe by the door to the bathroom and I carry the trunk over to it. While I unpack, my mind starts running through the laundry list of things my anxiety wants me to fret over. My heart is racing, but my movements are slow, focused on reassuring myself through every one.

George is still at the cottage. Injured. But that’s okay because Caelan is with him. Thomus will be out of the country for most of his recovery time. With any luck, by the time we get back, they both should be long gone.

Rodolphus Lestrange knows who I am now. It’s clear that he wants to use me to get back at Thomus. It’s also clear that he’s very willing and excited at the prospect of being able to physically hurt me. But right now everything’s fine. He shouldn’t be able to get to me here. Thomus wouldn’t have left me here if I wasn’t going to be safe.

And Thomus. His actions were simply a… reaction to finding me in the lap of another man. Of course, it’s not just some other man. It’s the man that’s been married to the woman he’s… he’s been in love with since he was a teenager. It is love, isn’t it? I don’t know about her side, but definitely his… right?

He said nothing’s changed.

He said nothing’s changed.

 If nothing’s truly changed, then how could he explain last night? Fucking me against the wall, okay yes, that was clearly a reaction, but after? How could he look at me like that? How could he touch me like that? After everything he’s said? That he finds me disgusting, that he needed a lust potion to sleep with me, that he was just using me because I was there.

Without Occlumency, the question I had locked in the mausoleum is free, flying around uncontrolled in my head.

Why did he buy me? Why did he buy me? Why did he buy me? Why did he –

A knock at my door makes me realize I’d finished unpacking and had just been staring into the trunk at my feet. I open the door to find Hermione on the other side and I don’t hesitate to hug her.

When I pull back, I’m not really sure what to say. I have so much to tell her, but nothing that needs to be dumped out within the first minute of seeing her again. I can’t even think of something funny.

“After dinner,” she says as she starts to lead me to the dining room downstairs, “I’ll show you where my room is and we can catch up.”

I sigh and give her a look. “Good, because there’s a lot.”

“Definitely.”

When the three of us sit down at the table, I’m relieved not to see any other place sets.

“Is… Lord Malfoy not here?” I ask.

Narcissa’s lip quirks before she takes a sip of her wine, her expression more somber. “No, my husband is not presently at home.”

Her reassurance has me relaxing in my seat. “Perfect.”

“In fact,” she continues, “I doubt you’ll see him at all during your stay here.”

I know she’s trying reassure me still, but I can’t dismiss her saddened tone. A round of soup appears in front of us. Tomato this time, instead of pumpkin.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m sure you miss him.”

“That’s very kind of you, dear,” she murmurs. “I miss both my son and my husband when they’re away.” Her blue eyes crinkle when she takes on a teasing smirk. “Thomus as well, when I fancy it.”

Wanting to talk about something other than the man lurking in the back of my mind, I ignore her last comment.

“Is Draco gone often?” I ask, glancing at Hermione. Her eyes are downcast, taking in her soup one slow spoonful at a time.

“More often than I’d like,” Narcissa responds.

Conversation fades after that and I get the feeling that this is a common occurrence. What is there to talk about besides doom and gloom?

“I hope you’ll be at home here,” Narcissa says before we set off in our own directions for the night. “If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

I thank her and Hermione leads me back upstairs to her room. It’s twice the size of mine, space enough for a sitting area before the fire.

We sit down opposite each other in the armchairs and the first thing I ask her is, “Have you been working on your Occlumency?”

She blinks, taken aback by my directness. “Yes, of course.”

“Good. Because you’re not going to believe what I have to tell you and you can’t tell anyone.”

~*~

We spend hours regaling each other with everything that’s happened since we last saw each other. I even tell her about what happened before then, too. She isn’t too upset that I hadn’t told her about Edinburgh after I explained I was just trying to spare her since it seemed Draco had purposefully tried keeping her from there.

I’m kind of shocked to learn about the different… approaches Draco and Thomus had taken in regards to the inspections. Draco had performed some Germanic ritual to physically remove Hermione’s virginity. She even shows me the evidence, a jar containing a glowing orb tucked away in a bedside drawer. The ordeal sounds extremely uncomfortable given how involved Draco’s parents were and I’m almost relieved that my virginity had just been fucked out of me the good ole fashioned way.

Both of us are relieved that her choice at fertility had been spared. She reaches over and holds my hand when I tell her what happened to me. I haven’t had the chance to talk about it with anyone yet, and I’m surprised I’m not crying. I just wave off her concern and joke about how I can fuck freely now that the baby factory’s been demolished. She doesn’t laugh at my joke, but I can see her face twinges pink as she thinks.

“So you two, um,” she starts, “are still…?”

I haven’t told her about the things that Thomus has said. I don’t tell her about how he acted before and after. I don’t know how to process it. I don’t know how to interpret what he’s done versus what he’s said. These aren’t normal circumstances. It’s not like talking about a crush at school. I can’t read between the lines and get caught up in whether or not he actually cares about me. What I hope for and how things actually are never align for me. That’s never been the case when it comes to the guys I like.

And ugh, no. I don’t like Thomus, and if I think I do, then something’s wrong with me. Admitting something like that will only give him the power to hurt me.

If you don’t like him, then why does your chest ache when you think about all the shitty things he’s said to you? Why does it all hurt so much?

“Sometimes,” I answer her after a moment too long.

“It’s… consensual, right?” she asks.

“It’s not like I don’t want to,” I admit honestly. “He’s hot as fuck.”

She laughs this time, thank god. “Must be the genes. Strange he’s not blond, though.”

I shrug. “He’s only Lucius’ half-brother, so he has to take after his mom.”

Mippy pops in just then with a tray of tea and coffee. She asks whether I prefer tea or coffee like Hermione. I thank her and say tea is just fine.

When I finally tell her about George, she’s honestly shocked, but relieved that he’s alive. I tell her about Caelan and amazingly, she already knows who he is. Apparently Fred and George would go on about how Caelan was the only Animagus they knew personally – besides Professor McGonagall and Harry’s Godfather, Sirius Black.

Smaller country, smaller world, I guess.

She catches me up on everything that’s been happening in Edinburgh. At least that she’s been up to. I couldn’t believe all that she had to go through just to pass Ginny a note about the Horcruxes.

“Okay, so how many of them are left?” I ask. “Do you know what they are?”

They’re questions that have been bugging me since we parted ways right before the battle at Hogwarts. I’d stayed with the rest of the order to fight. They’d continued after the rest of the Horcruxes.

“As far as I know it’s just his snake now,” she answers. “Ron and I destroyed the cup. Harry found Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem and it got destroyed by fiendfyre. So you were right about that.”

When we had the locket, we’d resisted trying fiendfyre because of how dangerous it was.

“Who cast the spell?” I ask, confused. “That would’ve been really hard to control.”

“It was,” she admitted dryly. “The entire Room of Requirement was consumed by it.”

“Okay so, fiendfyre – check. Basilisk venom – check. Sword of Gryffindor – check. I guess besides the fiendfyre, Ginny might have access to those.”

“Being the Dark Lord’s pet does have its perks, I suppose,” Hermione slyly remarks. “It’s not something I like to think about.”

“How lucky we have it? Compared to everyone else?”

The look we share tells me I’m not alone in the guilt I feel.

Next she tells me she’s finally made headway with the tattoos. Death Eaters in Edinburgh had unwittingly given her some keywords to cross-reference in the library.

“The Scourers?” I gasp, but I’m not shocked by any means. “Of course it’s the fucking Scourers.”

She gives me a bewildered look. “You know about them?”

I nod. “It’s because of them that MACUSA was founded in the first place. It’s a part of the curriculum at Ilvermorny. I don’t know details of how they operated obviously, but they were heavily involved in slave trading.”

She nods, too. “Nott Sr claims to have made advances to their techniques. I’m still reading through the list of books from my last search.”

I smile ruefully. “At least we’re both busy.”

~*~

We say our goodnights a little after midnight and I climb into the new unfamiliar bed.

I try to sleep, but I just can’t get comfortable. I toss and I turn. Sometimes I’m too hot, then I’m too cold. Eventually I try to wear myself out by trying to overcome the suppression potion. It’s only been one day since I took it last. So of course nothing happens.

After only a few hours of restless sleep, I meet Hermione for breakfast in her room. Then we head off to the library.

“I’m not sure how much help I’m going to be to you,” I explain while dragging a finger along the book spines of a shelf nearby the table where she’s spread out her notes.

“What do you mean?” she asks after a moment, her head hovering over a handwritten journal.

“I googled my way through college and high school,” I admit. “I just don’t have the patience to read books I have no interest in.”

She looks up at me then, her head tilted. “Don’t you have an English degree?”

“Mmm-hm, a language I already spoke.” I wander to the table and pick up one of the books. The Disappearance of the Scourers by John Brookside. My eyes wander to the big windows lining the room. “I think I’ll find somewhere outside to read.”

“Watch out for the peacocks,” she warns as I head for the doors.

It’s a nice day out. A late August morning. Narcissa had briefly gestured to the perimeter yesterday while she was showing me the gardens. But I want to know exactly how far they extend.

Beyond the front door maze bushes taller than I’d ever seen stop far above my head. They line the front pathway from the gate to the house. I follow around the house until I can see the tall metal fence. It lines the property until it disappears into the woods.

Just like at the cottage, the electric hum is easily detectable. I hold my hand near it as I walk along the fence. I walk far enough that the Manor shifts to reveal the lake with the gazebo and their gardens in the back. Movement of elves and peacocks catch my eye and I make note to stay away from them. Beyond the gardens are wide open fields that seem to extend forever.

I follow beyond the tree line where the fence extends. There’s a little clearing right next to the fence, a few yards from the tree line. The area is grassy and secluded, foliage provides just enough privacy from the rest of the property. Before I settle down with the book, I walk around the entire edge of the clearing, making sure I wouldn’t accidentally walk through the perimeter. The electric hum stays with the fence where it further disappears into the woods.

Finally, I sit and open the book. I’m not exactly sure what it is I should be looking for. I guess I should’ve asked before I left.

I find my gaze often drifting from the book to look around. Staring at nothing really, just movement from a breeze shifting branches and leaves. I briefly wonder what Thomus is doing right then before shaking my head and refocusing on the book.

Eventually I find someone else’s bookmark. Maybe Hermione’s on a first flip through? It’s just a blank piece of paper.

I look at the fence. There’s plenty of space between the bars for Caelan to slide through. If they did come here to try to contact me, I wouldn’t know when or where or if they’d left a note.

I fold the piece of paper in half and scooch closer to the fence. I slide the paper in between the bars, as close as I dared. A nearby stick helps me push it further out until its tail protrudes beyond the fence. I find a rock under a bush and roll it on top of the paper to keep it from flying away. It’s stupid to believe that this will be enough of a marker for Caelan or Kyle, but it’s all I can do.

~*~

I make daily walks to the clearing, hoping that the piece of paper has moved or that there’s a note inside. But every day is the same.

Three days go by and I still don’t have my magic. If I go another, there goes my hope that I’d been becoming immune or stronger than the potion. What use will I be to Kyle when he finds out? Then I won’t be able to do anything.

I try to help Hermione. I really do, but every time I try to read one of those books, I can’t focus or I fucking doze off. It’s not even good sleep either. I only wake up feeling more tired than I did. Trying to sleep at night is just the same.

It feels like I’m stressed. Anxious for something to happen, but I don’t even know what.

Tonight I’m so desperate for sleep that I ask Hermione if there’s some Dreamless Sleep potion I can take. She asks Mippy about it, because Mippy is who supplies Hermione with it as well. Mippy is only happy to give me anything I ask for. She really is so fucking sweet.

When I take the potion and only sleep for two fucking hours, I finally fucking lose it. I cry into my pillow until I hear glass shattering next to the bed. My crying stops abruptly and I shoot to a sitting position.

The glass of water that had been on my bedside table now lies in broken pieces scattered on the floor. The bed, table, and floor is wet from the water.

With my heart racing, I murmur a damage reversal spell. The bits of glass and water sparkle in the candle light as they fly back to the top of the table. The glass reforms before my eyes as if nothing had happened. I close my eyes and collapse back onto the bed, sighing in relief.

I try to sleep once more, but again, another recurring problem, I just can’t get comfortable.

I pull on some clothes and tread barefoot down the hallways. The illumination spell hovers above my hand while I wander. I have enough common sense not to wander where Narcissa had pointed not to go, as they were hers and Lucius’ private wings. Downstairs I almost think I’m lost until I pass the portraits and the busts of long dead Malfoys. Every one of them has something unkind to say to me, one even hissing how I didn’t deserve the magical power that I have. I just told that one in particular to fuck off.

Back upstairs, I find myself in front of a door that until now, I didn’t know I’d been looking for. My hand grazes down the familiar green wood until I get my hand on the doorknob. I just want…

I’m not sure what I want from in there.

Either way, it doesn’t matter. The door’s locked. I try it again, hoping it’s just stuck. Alohomora does absolutely nothing.

When nothing works, I just sit on the floor next to the door, knees pulled up, head cradled on my arm.

“What’re you doing up, dear?” Narcissa’s voice softly chimes. My head pops up and she’s walking towards me from the direction of her wing. Her long blond hair is loose and flowing over her white nightgown. The light glowing from the end of her wand makes her look like a ghost.

I rub my eyes. “I’ve been having a hard time sleeping. Was trying to wear myself out.”

“Dreamless Sleep potion didn’t work?”

“Not really,” I sigh. “Did I wake you?”

She raises an amused eyebrow. “Lucius’ great-uncle deemed it most urgent that I stop you from running amuck through the halls.”

“That must’ve been the one I told to fuck off.”

Her eyes jump from me to the green door next to me. “Thomus explicitly forbade me from letting you enter his room while he’s gone.”

I don’t know why that fun little factoid makes my chest ache. I don’t even have a witty response. After a moment I just settle for the truth.

“Whenever I have trouble sleeping at the cottage, I’ll sleep in his bed or with his pillow,” I admit softly. I can’t meet her eyes. I just stare at the glowing ball of light in my hand. “I think it has something to do with how he smells. It’s like –“

“A Christmas tree?” she fills in and I look at her in surprise. She’s got a soft smile on. “Christmas was his mother’s favorite time of the year and it made her happy to smell it all year round.”

I blink. “You know her?”

“Our mothers ran in the same circles, so I was acquainted with her for a time. This is before she had Thomus, of course.”

I just stare at her, exhausted brain whirring. “Do you still talk to her?”

“She’s passed away,” Narcissa murmurs. “He did get to see her before she died.”

“His first trip to the US,” I say. “She’d married a No-Maj.”

Her head tilts and she looks at me curiously. “I’m surprised you know that.”

“I suppose,” I shrug.

“Well, let’s get you into bed,” she chirps. She points her wand at the door and I hear it unlock before it swings open. “It should open for you on your own now.”

“Thank you,” I say, getting to my feet.

“I believe he has some Dreamless Sleep potion in his bathroom,” she says.

I pass into his room and take deep inhales of the still air. Cedar and pine. A Christmas tree. Familiarity.

“I’ll let Hermione know if you’re not at breakfast,” she says and I can hear the smile in her voice as I take in the room again.

“Thank you,” I say and she says goodnight before closing the door.

I dash into the bathroom. Honestly I’m not sure I’ll need the potion, but I might as well. I down it and I feel it immediately take effect as I stumble back to his bed, my body slow and sluggish as if I were drunk. I nestle under the covers and wonder briefly if it’s more comfortable just because it’s his bed.

I pass out with the memory of him holding me.

[witchofinterest]

“sorry i knocked you out in that bar fight last night, but i brought you to the hospital and stuck around ‘til you woke up to apologize” + jaykay 👀

this is so them!!! okay set b4 they find out eachothers identity’s!

Kay had never slept in a hospital chair before. Six hours ago she never thought she’d be able to, but apparently she had nodded off. Moving to stand up, she found out why.

It hurt to stand up, and she stretched out, making it worse. Slumping her shoulders slightly to avoid it, she looked at the sleeping patient once again. He was really cute, which was really bad, since she had knocked him out yesterday. She knew letting Quentin and Will talk her into going to the bar with them was a horrible idea.

She twisted her arms, popping her elbow like a knuckle. That noise woke him up, eyes snapping open as she put her arms down to her sides.

“Where the fuck am I?” he asked, getting his bearings.

“You’re at the hospital,” she explained, nodding “Uh, how much do you remember from last night?”

“I was at the bar with my friend Molly and her friends when one of them got into a fight with this other guy and when I went to end it I got fuckin knocked out,” he said, pushing a hand against his head.

“Ah, well then I can apologize properly, I knocked you out and I’m so sorry, I was trying to get the guy harassing my friend Quentin and he moved and you were right there,” she ended, taking a deep breathe.

Jason just nodded, sitting up fully. He looked her up and down before smiling.

“No harm babe, how’s your friend?” he asked, getting off the bed.

“Uhh, he’s good, are you sure you should be getting up right now?” she asked, looking around for a nurse.

“It’s cool, so you knock guys out often?” he stretched out his arm and then his neck.

“No, first time in a bar and a barfight. Sorry again,” she re-apologized, finally making eye contact. He really didn’t seem mad which was making her more embarrassed.

“It’s okay, but I know a way you can make it up to me?” he said, a small smile teasing at his lips.

“Sure, what?”

“Take me on a date,” he requested, fully smiling.

Kay was speechless. This was something out of a dream. She had punched her longest running celebrity crush and now he wanted to go on a date. She wasn’t a big fan-fiction person but this was right out of one.

She was overthinking this. If Will found out she let this pass he’d kill her.

But before she could respond, he said “Hey, if you don’t want to it’s alright,”

“No, I, I do. Here,” she pulled a piece of paper from her pocket that turned out to be a flyer for one of Will’s games and grabbed the pen from the nurses board, scrawling her number.

“I’ll set something up and you can text me,” she said, giving it to him.

“I will,” he promised, taking a look at the digits.

“Kay, what’s that short for?” he asked, but before she could answer, three people walked in. Bruce Wayne, Lucius Fox and Quentin.

Quentin grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. She wasn’t sure if this was an apology for leaving her in the ER with Jason or a thank you for sticking up for him. She squeezed back either way.

“Jason, who’s your friend?” Bruce asked and Kay really wanted to shrink into the wall. Her pale pink shirt was the same color, maybe it would work.

“This is Katherine Mulaney,” Lucius introduced her himself “she and Quentin go to the same university.”

“Well it was nice of you to stay with him Katherine,” Bruce said and Kay just nodded.

“Sure was,” Jason teased from his position of Bruce forcing him back on the bed.

“You two have class, correct?” Lucius asked and Quentin answered yes for them.

After a quick round of good-byes, they absconded from the hospital room and out into the street.

“Was it just me or was Jason Todd totally flirting with you,” he asked.

“He was,” Kay stated, her phone chirping before she could elaborate.

“And you’re not losing your mind?” he questioned her as he leaned over to read her text message.

“Hey K. lmk the details asap so I can ditch these security guards 😉- J.” it read.

“The details for what Katherine?”