#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.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 67

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 6K

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Friday, March 5th; 11:15 PM - On the plane.

"Sweetheart," Lucy whispers to me. "We're about to land."

I groan, sinking into what seems to be her neck, judging by the familiar scent reaching my nose. I’m so comfortable. I don’t want to open my eyes, but I feel like I have to when she alternates between caressing and shaking my thigh. A grumble escapes me, making my girlfriend laugh.

"Come on, sleepyhead. Don't make me take drastic measures."

I can’t help but smile. I missed that nickname.

"I’d like to see you try."

My voice is rough, betraying my six hours of sleep. Lucy runs her hand through my hair, making me hum with satisfaction. Reuniting with her after a week of classes feels so good. I’ve worked so hard that I’m completely drained. I pull back to stretch, and Lucy waits until I’m done to kiss me. I glance to the other side, where Ingrid is still lost in her own world with her headphones on. Either she woke up before me, or she hasn’t moved since takeoff.

"Am I the only one who slept?" I ask.

"Mmhmm," she teases.

I sigh and cuddle back against Lucy. We still have a few minutes left. She kisses the top of my head, making me shiver.

"It feels like ages since I’ve been home."

"A month," Lucy comments.

"It feels longer."

It really does. Ingrid and Mapi had started dating at my place. A little month, and yet so much happiness has been shared since then. I hope it lasts. The plane lands smoothly, and the passengers disembark with a bit of jostling. Shay wasn’t here this time, but I hope to see her on the way back. I liked her. We make our way to the terminal. Hector is picking us up, but I’m not surprised to see Mapi by his side. She rushes into her beloved’s arms, who welcomes her warmly. We take the opportunity to greet my driver, who seems happy to see us again. After picking up our luggage, we head out. I sit up front to give Mapi and Ingrid time to catch up. As for me, I’ll have plenty of time to enjoy the arms of my girlfriend, which I missed so much last night. I sleep much better with her, but I’m not complaining. We have weekends, and not everyone is that lucky. 

The ride is short. Mapi's conversations make time fly. Everyone seems full of energy except me, even though I slept. I’m lucky my suitcase is the lightest. I didn’t bring much, following Lucy’s advice. That way, I’ll be able to bring some stuff back to Manchester. Our move is progressing, and it makes me happy. When we arrive at the house, I expect Lucy to greet me, but to my surprise, my mom welcomes us instead.

"Good evening, girls. I hope you had a good trip."

"Hey, Mom. Yeah, it wasn’t too bad."

"Speak for yourself. You slept the whole way," Ingrid mocks, making Mapi laugh.

I glare at her, but Lucy quickly pulls me into her arms to ease my tension.

"Okay, that’s enough."

"Can we go upstairs?" I suggest with a tired sigh.

I’m not in the mood to face everything right now, even though I came to settle many things. Lucy smiles and kisses my forehead.

"Yes, I think we’re all exhausted."

"We’ll chat tomorrow morning over breakfast," my mom agrees.

"You’ll be there?" I ask, surprised.

"I’m on duty for a few hours in the late afternoon tomorrow, but otherwise, I’m free for the weekend. I had some hours to take, so I arranged it because I knew you’d be coming."

"Oh... okay. Do you know if Joan is in my room?"

"I don’t think so. I put him to bed in his own room, and I haven’t heard a peep since. Who knows, maybe he’s changed rooms."

I nod and thank her for the info, though it doesn’t help much. We exchange goodnights before heading upstairs. The girls take their usual room, and Lucy and I go to mine. I don’t turn on the light until I’m sure my brother isn’t there. Surprisingly, he’s really not, but I’m not going to complain. It means I can enjoy Lucy’s company as much as I want.

"I’m going to change," Lucy announces after rummaging through her suitcase.

"Yep. Hurry up."

She winks at me before slipping behind the bathroom door. She acts like she’s at home, and I love it. I quickly change in the dressing room, wearing one of my dad’s old T-shirts. I don’t bother with shorts since the shirt falls almost mid-thigh. Lucy’s seen me in less, and I feel comfortable with her now. It’s not like she’d take advantage of the situation. I’m done by the time she reopens the door. I join her to brush my teeth, admiring her curves highlighted by a tank top and shorts while she finishes the task herself.

"I’m almost done," she says with a mouthful.

"Take your time," I reply with a smile.

She rinses and wipes her mouth, finally giving me space. I quickly brush my teeth and rush to join her in bed, where she’s already lying down. I make sure to turn off all the lights before lying beside her. A satisfied sigh escapes me. I particularly love my bed, especially when I’m sharing it with Lucy.

"For a change, could you hold me tonight?" she asks unexpectedly.

Her request catches me off guard, but I immediately turn toward her and wrap my arms around her.

"You don’t need to ask," I murmur. "Come here."

A few seconds later, I can feel her against me, her breath brushing my chest. My T-shirt had ridden up, but I didn’t mind. Lucy took the opportunity to slip her arms underneath. I wasn’t wearing a bra, but she didn’t push the intimacy.

"I missed you," she whispers.

"I missed you too," I admit. "So much."

I kiss her face repeatedly. She hums little sounds of amusement.

"Good night, my love," I finish, kissing her lips.

"Good night," she mumbles in return. "I love you."

Smiling, I fall asleep without any trouble.

Saturday, March 6th; 9:30 AM - At Ona’s house.

The atmosphere in the house felt strange this morning. When Lucy and I came downstairs, I was surprised to find Marcus in the living room, reading the newspaper, waiting for breakfast. That wasn’t all. Samuel wasn’t in the kitchen today. It was my mom making pancakes, burning her fingers in the process, with Joan. Something had definitely changed.

"Morning," I mumbled.

"Ona!"

"Oh, hey girls. Did you sleep well?"

I hugged my brother as Lucy answered my mom, saying everything was fine.

"Where’s Samuel?" I asked.

"I gave him the weekend off. Marcus and I are here, so we didn’t want to bother him."

"Oh..."

I struggled to hide my disappointment. I would have loved to see him again, just like I miss Lucy so much.

"Can we help with anything?" Lucy offered, noticing my reaction.

"The table isn’t set yet, but don’t worry about it. I’ll do it when I’m done here."

"No, we’ll do it," Lucy insisted. "Will you help me, sweetheart? I don’t know where the silverware is."

9

I obey without showing my joy. First, I set Joan down after kissing his cheek. Then, I help Lucy find everything and bring it to the dining room.

"She's trying to be nice, so please, don't lose your temper," my girlfriend scolds me when we're alone.

"Something's off. This house has never been this calm and full before," I say, placing the silverware after Lucy set the plates down.

She stops and cups my face, making it impossible for me to look away.

"Stop overthinking."

"You don't know them," I say, raising my voice in a whisper, forcing her to let go. "They’ve never spent a weekend together at home."

"Maybe they talked things out. Didn’t you say things weren’t going well with Joan?"

"Hmm," I respond uncertainly. "Usually, when things seem this way, something bad is about to happen."

She sighs, offering a small smile.

"Nothing will happen today if you just relax. I'm here, okay? And I always will be. Just stop expecting the worst in this house."

I sigh and nod, struggling to believe her, but I’ll trust her for now. Mapi and Ingrid interrupt us at that moment, and then my mother enters with a huge plate of pancakes. The girls look happy and it’s nice to see. We sit down for breakfast. I’m having a hard time enjoying myself, especially since Joan has placed himself between Lucy and me. I notice he seems more cheerful than last week when he stayed with us. Maybe Lucy is right. Conversations start flowing at the table. I don't feel like joining in, too lost in my thoughts, and Lucy notices. When she finishes eating, she lets her hand linger near my neck, a silent reminder of her support, all while sipping her coffee and engaging in the discussion.

"What do you all have planned today?" my mother asks.

"We’re not sure yet. Nothing special," Lucy replies.

"But I can tell you we won't be here tonight," I say calmly.

"Yeah, it’s going to be a party!" Mapi adds.

"Really? You’re going out? Where to?" my mother asks excitedly.

"Ah, that’s a surprise. It’s our couples' anniversary, so we’re celebrating!" Mapi grins.

"Already? Time flies."

I sigh softly. If Lucy weren’t touching me, I would've gotten up long ago to clear my plate. My mother, sitting next to me at the head of the table, smiles at me timidly, but I don't return it. I feel uncomfortable in this picture-perfect family atmosphere.

"I’d like to take a walk along the beach," I say to Lucy. "It’s been a long time since I’ve been."

"We can go, if you want. The weather looks nice outside, and I haven’t been yet," she replies.

"It’s already warmer than Manchester," I remark.

"You’ll have to get used to it," she teases.

I smile, nodding. It’s the right time to share the news. We haven’t told anyone yet, and while it might seem obvious, it’s good to confirm it.

"I’ve decided to move in with Lucy," I announce bluntly.

"Really?" Ingrid exclaims. "Since when?"

"You two are so secretive, it’s unbelievable," Mapi adds, looking more surprised than anything.

My smile widens despite myself. She really knows how to lighten the mood. I glance at Lucy, who keeps supporting me from where she sits.

"We decided last week."

"Well, the house will stay quiet, then," Marcus comments.

"It’s sudden," my mother adds.

"It was a bit of an impulsive decision," Lucy admits.

"We had a bit of a spat over the gallery’s response," I explain.

"Oh, did you finally get an answer?" my mother asks, surprised. "What did they say?"

"They want to send me to Cardiff. I’m applying elsewhere. We prepared my applications this week, and they were sent yesterday, just before we left."

"But it’s a good opportunity," Marcus remarks.

"I know, but I don’t want to be far from Lucy. I have a meeting with Mr. Fields next Monday. We’ll see how it goes," I shrug. "Either way, my decision is made."

"Let’s wait for the meeting first," my girlfriend interjects. "The decision isn't final yet."

I feel like she still hopes I’ll accept the offer… Or maybe she just wants to reassure my mother and Marcus? Either way, if it’s the first, she’ll have to accept it won’t happen because, for me, it’s already clear.

"Well…" my mother says, getting up from the table.

"You’ll stay for lunch, right? I’m making lasagna."

The girls look at me with starry eyes. I roll mine and end up agreeing to please them. Lasagna, of all things—one of my favorite dishes. At least we’d enjoy the morning here. Everyone pitches in to clear the table first. I'm not sure how it happened, but at one point, I found myself alone with my mother in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher.

"So…" she starts. "Everything’s good with Lucy?"

"Uh, yeah. I think my decision to move in with her says a lot."

"True…"

"And how’s Joan? Is he behaving better?"

I had checked in with her last week to make sure Mapi and Joan had arrived safely. I’d briefly mentioned my concerns, but since it was late in Barcelona, we hadn’t had time to delve deeper into the conversation.

"A little. We’re slowly getting him back on track. Marcus and I have adjusted our schedules so one of us is always around to be with him."

I nod. Lucy was right. That’s already a good step. I didn’t have that privilege. Lucy was the one who took care of me when I got home from school.

"During the day, he’s fine. The main issue is after school. But we can’t always be available; we both have demanding jobs."

"At least he’s seeing you more. What about Sofia and Sam? You’re not planning to let them go, are you?"

"Oh no! They do so much for us that the thought never crossed our minds. Now that we’re around more, we try to give them more time off when it suits them. I think Samuel even went away for the weekend with his boyfriend."

"Okay," I murmur. "That’s good, then."

I turn around when I hear footsteps and feel relieved to see Lucy. Her timing couldn’t have been better. She brings in the last of the dishes. We exchange a smile.

"Need any help here?"

"Oh no, we’re almost done."

"The girls are settled on the couch. Apparently, Joan picked Mulan… The animated one, of course."

I chuckle softly, just imagining Mapi watching a Disney movie. I stop when I realize Lucy is serious.

"Really?"

"Yep. And he’s asking for you, but I bet you guessed that."

I groan, causing my mother to laugh. I hadn’t imagined our morning ending like this, but well, we’re family after all.

"Go ahead. I’ll finish up."

"Thanks."

I put away the last plate before heading off with my girlfriend. She wraps her arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.

"Everything okay?" she asks, kissing my temple.

"Let’s say it is…" I exhale.

"Did she tell you what she wanted to?"

I frown, realizing I’d completely forgotten about that in the middle of everything. She had insisted on sharing some big news.

"No. I forgot all about it. We talked about Joan instead."

"You’ll tell me later," she says as we enter the living room.

The couch has been pulled out into a bed. Our friends are already lying on one side, with my brother in the middle. His face lights up when he sees us.

"Can we start?"

"Yeah, just give us a second," I laugh. "Let us settle in."

I sit next to her and snuggle up to Lucy when she joins me. Maybe this moment won’t be as bad as I thought. My brother starts the movie, but honestly, I don’t pay much attention. I’m too focused on the soothing touch of my girlfriend. It’s so comforting and relaxing.

Saturday, March 6th, 6:30 PM – At Ona’s Place

I’m nervous. I look at myself in the mirror one more time. I think I look beautiful, wearing a dress and heels. I hope Lucy finds me beautiful too. I’m not used to seeing myself like this, even less with Mapi, who’s sitting on my bed looking just as stylish.

"Everything will be fine, you know," she teases. "It’s not like this is your first date."

"I know," I murmur. "Do you have the tickets I asked for?"

"Oh yeah, they’re downstairs," she says, standing up.

"Downstairs? What are they doing down there?"

"Well, did you think I’d risk Ingrid finding them? The last thing I needed was her thinking they were for her, and then I’d have to explain everything."

"Hum..."

I take a deep breath. I’m a little scared. I planned to go to the Barcelona theatre for a show. I had fallen in love with it and wanted Lucy to experience our theatre. This was the perfect opportunity. But of course, dinner had to come first. I chose a casual restaurant. I wanted to impress, but not too much. I wanted it to feel like us. We didn’t need anything grandiose—just a moment to share, like we always love.

"Alright, can we go down? I’m sure the girls are already waiting for us."

"Yeah, I think so."

She laughs, patting my back.

"Come on, stop. You’ve already won her heart. Tonight’s just a romantic evening."

She winks at me, and I smile. She’s right. We just need to enjoy ourselves. That’s the theme of this weekend. The afternoon was already amazing by the beach. I loved seeing it again. I missed the scenery, but I can’t complain about where I am now.

"Let’s go. We don’t want to keep them waiting."

The girls got ready in the guest room that Mapi and Ingrid were staying in. Lucy just grabbed her bag and locked herself in there. Now, I’m eager to see her again. We head downstairs quietly. My anxiety returns as we descend the stairs. I hope we’re the first ones down, but of course, we’re not. Ingrid and Lucy are already there, chatting and even laughing with my mom. She looks stunning, just as I expected. She’s wearing a navy blue dress with an open back. The front is held by a strap around her neck. I stand there for a moment, just admiring her. She’s the first to move, walking toward me in her white heels. She takes my hand to help me down the last few steps and plants a kiss on it.

"You look stunning, my love," she murmurs, pulling me into her arms, making me melt completely.

"You’re not too bad yourself."

She laughs softly. I’m tempted to kiss her, but I remember we’re not alone. Mapi has joined Ingrid, and my mom is watching from the side.

"Shall we go?"

"Yes... Did you manage to get the car keys?"

"Of course. Your mom seems to trust me more than she trusts you."

"That’s undeniable," I say, rolling my eyes, making my girlfriend laugh.

"Have a great evening, girls," my mom says as we head outside.

"Thank you."

Outside, I’m surprised to see not one, but two cars. It makes things easier, but I wasn’t expecting it. There’s Hector’s car and my mom’s.

"Well, I guess this is where we part ways," Ingrid says.

It’s at that moment that I take a good look at her. It’s the first time I’ve seen her looking so different. She’s dressed up for a night out as well.

"Yeah," my girlfriend responds. "Have a great evening on your side. See you later, maybe."

As she speaks, she opens the door to my mom’s Jeep. I get in, feeling a bit uneasy. I don’t have great memories in this car, the few times I’ve been in it. It’s what she used to take me to my detox sessions at the hospital, at least when she could. Lucy takes the driver’s seat, and we’re the first to leave. I’m floating on a little cloud, with her hand resting on my thigh. She hums along to the song on the radio, and after a while, I realize she’s driving without me giving her any directions. Then, I remember—I forgot to get the tickets!

"You know!" I exclaim.

She laughs heartily, squeezing my knee in her palm.

"Sorry, baby. I hope you won’t be mad, but I made a small change to your plans."

"W-what? What do you mean?"

She smiles, glancing at me briefly before turning her eyes back to the road, knowing I prefer that.

"Mapi told Ingrid she was panicking because she lost the tickets for what you had planned, and she didn’t dare tell you."

I widen my eyes. Sure, the theatre was important to me, but I wouldn’t have been mad at Mapi for something out of her control.

"Of course, I found out and contacted Mapi. I offered to take over the planning and make it a last-minute surprise for you. So here we are. I hope you won’t be upset that I made that decision."

I exhale softly. I don’t know if I want to be mad at them or not. I was really looking forward to organizing this evening for once, but at the same time, it’s so sweet. I can’t be mad at her for this. She always wants to make me happy.

"I know you wanted to plan this evening yourself... but I just love surprising you. I can’t help it."

What did I just say? I laugh as she brings my hand to her lips. This woman will drive me crazy. I definitely can’t be mad at her.

"You’re not mad, are you?"

"No... So, what have you planned instead?"

"You’ll find out soon enough. Don’t expect anything wild. It’s just us tonight."

We had the same idea—it’s amazing. I smile, feeling at peace.

"I’m already excited then."

We reach the city center, and I recognize the street we’re on. I think I know where we’re going, but I wait until we’re closer to be sure. She must’ve gotten the idea from Mapi. There’s no other way—she doesn’t know anything about my old life, let alone my habits. She parks the car, and with a squeeze on my thigh, I understand I should stay in my seat. She walks around to open my door and offers me her arm.

"Really?" I tease playfully.

"Only the best for my lady," she replies with a mischievous grin as we start walking.

"But tonight was supposed to be my chance to be the gentlewoman. You missed the boat, what a shame."

She laughs and kisses my cheek.

"This night doesn’t belong to anyone in particular. What I mean is, it’s our night—just the two of us."

"You’re right."

I hold onto her arm and rest my head on her shoulder, smiling as I see the Arkadia sign glowing red in the distance. It’s been a while since I’ve been here.

"You know where we’re going, don’t you?"

I laugh a little, taking my eyes off the sign. She must’ve noticed my gaze. I have a lot of memories here, with Mapi and my high school friends. We used to hang out here a lot when Miller didn’t throw a party. I’m eager to see if the place has changed.

"It was obvious the second you drove by here," I admit.

"I’m becoming predictable—that’s not good."

I giggle again, leaning into her a little more.

"Don’t be silly, baby. It was unexpected, really. I was expecting the theatre, so you know."

"The theatre? That was your plan?"

"Mmhmm," I confirm. "With a nice little dinner before, but yeah."

"I didn’t know you liked that."

"It depends on the show. When my dad came back from missions, he’d take me there every time. I loved going because it was our moment, you know?"

"I see," she smiles. "One day, I’ll take you to the one in Porto."

"Are you crazy? The shows there cost an arm and a leg, and they’re not even the best. But I’d love to visit it. »

- Very well, Princess. We'll visit it when we go to Porto then.  

I smile as she opens the door for me to enter the restaurant/bar. The décor hasn’t changed one bit over the years. It’s a totally modern style with a central bar and all the tables surrounding it.  

- Oh, I can’t believe it... Ona Batlle! It’s been a while!  

- Sterling? I’m surprised. Hey.  

I awkwardly accept his embrace, which catches me off guard. He’s an old high school friend. We were never particularly close. He was an athlete, and we were always in the same class. We know each other that way, but also from a few parties we attended together thanks to mutual friends.  

- How are you? What have you been up to? he asks, stepping back.  

- I’m doing pretty well, I say as I feel a hand slide across my back.  

I glance at Lucy and give her a soft smile.  

- Let me introduce you. Sterling, an old high school classmate. Sterling, this is my girlfriend, Lucy.  

- Well, you must be doing really well, he laughs. Hi.  

He extends his hand to Lucy. She takes it for a polite handshake but doesn’t say anything.  

- Do you still hear from Mapi? he asks. She still comes by here from time to time, unlike you.  

- Oh, yes, yes. We see each other regularly when I’m here. I live in Manchester now. And you, what are you doing here? Do you work here?  

- Yeah, on weekends. I’m still in college, so I need a bit of cash.  

Lucy clears her throat, catching Sterling’s attention. I hold back a smile. She just can’t help herself.  

- I’ve reserved a table for two under the name Woods, she announces.  

- Oh yeah, sure. Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you. It’s just been a while since we last saw each other. Come on, I’ll show you to your table.  

- Could we get one of the round tables in the back? I ask. That’s my favorite spot.  

- Yeah, I think that can be arranged.  

He takes us exactly where I wanted. I love these spots because the seating wraps around the table in an arc, and there are walls that go all the way up to the ceiling, shielding us from the other tables. The other side has chairs, but what I love most is how cozy it feels, making the space less noisy.  

- Here you go, ladies. I’ll leave you with the menus and be back to check on you.  

- Thank you.  

I slide onto the bench first, quickly followed by my girlfriend. This way, we sit side by side.  

- I can see why you like these seats, Lucy murmurs.  

- It’s perfect for tonight, don’t you think?  

- Exactly, she says, picking up the menu. We can eat and have a drink here, right?  

- We don’t have to stay here the whole night.  

- No. This is great for tonight. I even saw a pool table over there...  

- Yeah, there’s a pool table here, I giggle. Maybe it’s time for you to give me a private lesson, you being the expert. Maybe I can finally beat your friends.  

She laughs and nods.  

- That would be an idea, because you’re a walking disaster at pool.  

- Hey, that’s not my fault, I pout.  

- I never said it was, she teases. So, what do you recommend from the menu?  

- Everything, I laugh. No, for real, we could order something to share. Like this dish, look. My friends and I used to get this because it was cheap, and we could split the bill.  

- Don’t worry about the price. I’m paying tonight.  

- No, I always pay! You could let me pay for once!  

- No way, she smiles. Since I planned tonight, I’m going all the way.  

- You have a secret stash of money or something?  

She laughs heartily at my little joke. I actually wonder how much she earns because she never seems to have any complaints, considering what she owns.  

- Nonsense. I’m just well-paid, that’s all. And since I’m still in school, I don’t have daily expenses, so I save a lot. Plus, I got paid for the nights and weekends I worked... thanks to you, by the way, she laughs. So, yeah.  

- Well, when you put it like that... Do you pay for your meals?  

- No, it’s included in my contract, along with my living expenses for staying in the dorm.  

- That’s amazing!  

- Not really. It’s a private school. It’s either you or your parents, in your case, who pay for the teachers. Plus, there are partnerships, like with the government. There aren’t many schools like Camp Wiegman.  

- Did you know the Putellas and Leah and Alessia families ended up there because of a judge? I ask her.  

- Yes, I knew thanks to Ingrid.  

- Does everyone confide in you?  

- Yes. We don’t let students leave until they’ve talked at least once about why they’re there. We want it to have a freeing effect on them, you know? Not everyone has someone to listen to them.  

- That was the case for me, I murmur. But you had to push hard before I opened up.  

- That’s true, she laughs. You weren’t easy, but I understand why. It depends on the case... Like Alexia, for example. Within two weeks, we knew why she and her sister were there. Ingrid practically let her go right away. She was a good student and didn’t have any internal struggles.  

- That doesn’t surprise me. She’s always been happy and studious.  

- She was relieved to be there, you could tell.  

- Well, the school brought them stability, and she no longer had to worry about her sister taking care of everything on her own.  

- That’s true.  

A brief silence falls between us. I close the menu after glancing through it quickly. It hasn’t changed, so I already know what I’m going to order.  

- Have you decided?  

- Yeah. I’m getting what I always get.  

- And what’s that?  

- A Margarita cocktail. It’s excellent here.  

- Well then, I’ll follow your lead.  

The evening goes perfectly. We order quickly, and we talk, laugh, and eat... all while staying close to each other. I wouldn’t trade this night for anything in the world. This was our first night out alone, and I regret that we don’t do it more often. I get to hear numerous anecdotes she shares over drinks and our shared plate.  

- I’ve always wanted to travel, she tells me.  

- Really?  

- Yeah. I think the world hides so many secrets. I’ve never had the chance to go to America, for example.  

- I’ve been there once, I confess. When I was little, but honestly, I don’t remember much.  

- What country did you visit?  

- Cuba, I think, one summer. My mom loves warm places. That’s why she chose Barcelona.  

- Cuba, she murmurs. It must be a beautiful country.  

- I’d love to visit Argentina one day. I hear everything there is gorgeous.  

- That’s true, she agrees, nodding. Egypt too. It must be amazing to see a pyramid. Or New Zealand.  

- Oh, and Japan too! I add.  

- Japan? she raises an eyebrow. I’m not sure you’d like the weather there, she laughs. You’re always complaining about Manchester, and it probably rains even more there.  

- Yeah, well, I’d get used to it. It’s not like a week would kill me.  

- Noted, she smiles, popping one of the last fries from the plate into her mouth.  

- Oh no, I see what you’re up to! You need to stop getting ahead of my surprise ideas.  

- I don’t know what you’re talking about, she replies with a mischievous grin.  

- Yeah, right! You’re always one step ahead of me!  

- You’re exaggerating.  

- No, I giggle. Look at tonight. I had everything planned, and you just flipped it all.  

- I didn’t flip anything, she laughs. Maybe you had something special planned that I didn’t know about? she teases me.  

I blush, remembering what I had intended to do tonight. Maybe now is the time to make my announcement. Lucy notices my state and smiles gently.  

- Oh, so you did have something planned? she teases again.  

- Stop it, I giggle, lightly pushing her away. Or I’ll cancel what I was going to do.  

Oh, threats now?

She laughs but steps back to give me space. I clear my throat and turn slightly on the bench to face her, trying to show her that this is serious. She doesn't take it that way at all. She looks like she's teasing me, with her head resting on her hand and a small smile on her lips. I can't speak anymore. The apprehension of opening up to her leaves me speechless. But she gives me time. So I watch her, especially her beautiful eyes. From the first day, they had haunted me. I could always relive that moment as if it were yesterday. I was frozen, trapped in that disorienting vision. It was silent, for the first time that evening. I take advantage of it to gently touch her beautiful face, tracing its contours. Lucy says nothing. She lets me rediscover her with her eyes closed. I touch everywhere: her eyebrows, her chin, her nose, her lips... I linger on the latter before kissing her as tenderly as possible. We rediscover each other softly before separating again. There's no trace of amusement on her face anymore. She understands that this is serious. So, I begin.

"I love you," I murmur. "I love you so much... You're the person I've always wanted in my life. You really don’t understand what you mean to me. You make me better... you make me happy. If we ever talk about breaking up, it would never come from me. Because I love you so much. Like I've never loved anyone before. Y-you must be my soulmate. I can’t see it any other way..."

The words are strong, but I had to let them out. I’d been holding it in for too long. My eyes fill with tears. Lucy is in the same state as me. It's the first time I've seen her eyes this watery. She says nothing, though, and panic starts to rise in me. Maybe I went too far, talking about soulmates? But that’s what I feel, and she deserves to know. She, who has waited for me all this time. She, who has accepted me with my character, my flaws, and my mood swings. To be honest, I don't even like myself sometimes.

"Lucy, I-"

"Shhh."

Her fingers brush my lips, encouraging me to stay silent. She replaces them with her lips, starting another kiss. Soft at first, then rougher towards the end. We can't hold back anymore. Our emotions speak for us. We kiss, again and again, barely pausing for breath, closing the gap between us as much as possible. The only regret I have is being in a public place. I have this overwhelming urge to tear off her clothes, to discover this body that belongs to me.

"I-I want you," I whisper against her lips in a moment of euphoria.

My comment breaks the powerful connection between us. We’re both out of breath. She smiles at me before resting her forehead against mine. This moment allows us to come down from our high, eyes closed. I blush, realizing what I just said. When I open my eyes, Lucy is already looking at me. Her eyes are dilated, dark with desire. I’m speechless at the sight. She gently runs her fingers across my face.

"I love you, and I’ll make love to you one day... But definitely not on a whim and certainly not under your mother’s roof."

I burst out laughing despite myself. Tears fall from my eyes at the same time. It's adorable that she can still think of my mom in this situation. She smiles and eventually laughs too when she sees that I can't calm down. This unique moment is so us. It’s reserved, full of love, and sprinkled with joy. My laughter slowly fades. We return to the moment where we're gazing into each other's eyes. I feel silly for being so scared. With Lucy, everything was so simple. She made things feel so easy.

"I love you," I whisper again.

« and I love you," she says with a soft smile.

She knew this was a big step for me. She never even questioned my reasons. That’s admirable of her. I plan to explain it all to her one day.

"I feel like I'm starting a new life with you. It’s like I'm reliving my first times all over again. Maybe not for everything, but for most of it. I know it’s strange, but... I don’t even know how to express it."

"There’s nothing strange about that. You’ve erased your past from your mind, and now you’re starting your life over, so it feels like you’re experiencing everything for the first time again."

I nod. She completely understood what I was trying to say. She takes my hands in hers.

"I would've loved to be your first. I completely understand why you’re anxious, but you don't need to be. You won’t mess up this new chance. I fully intend to be the last person you’ll ever know that intimately."

I throw myself awkwardly into her arms, burying my head in her neck. I’ve never needed to explain much for Lucy to understand me. That’s one of the reasons I love her so much. She kisses the top of my head, holding me as tightly as she can, whispering sweet words to reassure me. Meanwhile, I keep repeating that I love her in what feels like uncontrollable sobs, overwhelmed by all the emotions coursing through me.

[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.”

[serenefreakgeekao3]

Apricity

[Table of Contents]

CHAPTER SIX, Preparation

Week 4

Step One: Be inconspicuous.

You step out of the Medjack hut, blinking your eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness of the night. You hadn’t realised you’d been in the hut for so long, assuming only a few hours as Clint had said. Minho notices your confusion, leaning in to quietly inform you that your swelling might’ve taken a little longer to go down than originally anticipated. The comment about calming everyone down seemed to make a little more sense now than it did inside the building. You walk forward, relying on the cane heavily, and begin to wonder how long your ankle will take to heal. You’ll need to be able to run for your plan, so you have at least as long as it takes to heal to prepare.

You realise that Minho has been herding you toward the outdoor dining area- and it’s becoming increasingly apparent that this is the hangout spot for most of the Gladers, including you and your friends. You scan the crowd around the table, half of them sitting while the other half hover nearby- Thomas sitting on the table itself with his feet on the seat, and Newt sitting with his back against the table on the bench next to him. They’re facing each other, Newt’s arm resting on Thomas’ thigh, and seem to be speaking seriously to each other from the looks on their faces.

“Too distracted to notice the object of your affections approaches?” Minho interrupts their private conversation with his loud, boisterous voice, which causes both men to turn suddenly, their eyes skipping over him and landing on you. They both look at a loss for words, before Minho steps between their eyes and yourself, playing on his theatrics some more. “Don’t worry boys, I’m right here! No need to cry yourselves to sleep tonight.”

Thomas, always so single-minded in his thoughts, immediately pushes to a stand and circles around Minho to get closer to you. His eyes stray nowhere toward your cane or wrapped ankle, staring into your eyes as he reaches for your free hand, taking it with an almost anxious energy. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You begin, laughing as you watch Newt circle Minho’s other side, his eyes scanning you up and down and lingering on your ankle and new cane. “I promise, I’m completely fine. They just had to ice my ankle a bit so the swelling would go down, and then he wrapped it.” You study Newt’s sudden focus, seemingly staring at the cane in your hand more than your actual injury. Thomas gets your attention back with his voice once again.

“Are you sure that’s all it is? Clint wouldn’t let us in to see you, even after I offered to help him out.” You laugh at this, shaking your head toward Thomas with a smile.

“You’re a runner, Tommy, not a Medjack. I think Clint knows what he’s doing.” Thomas sighs, running an agitated hand through his hair.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Uh- I’m right here guys?” Minho pipes up finally, and you look at him standing between Newt and Thomas with an amused expression. He has his injured and newly wrapped arm up in the air, waving it around for emphasis. “Your actually injured friend, who was bleeding to death about five minutes ago? Hello?”

Thomas huffs a laugh, shaking his head with mirth as he faces Minho with a smirk. “We knew you would be okay. You injure yourself every other day!” You furrow your brows, looking at Minho, though you’re surprised when he doesn’t deny it. Was he really so careless? Was that where he went to when he disappeared through the day? Your eyes are slowly drawn back to Newt, who is still staring down at the cane in your hand. You follow his gaze, your own eyes studying the cane. Was there something about it that offended him?

The memory catches you off-guard as it pops into your head so suddenly- the fall that Newt took, and consequentially his injury from that. Was this the cane he had used to learn how to walk again? Suddenly, the thought of using this cane filled you both with a sense of unease, but also a strange sense of comfort that you’re holding what helped Newt to heal. You stare down at the smooth stick in your hand, wondering if it had just so happened to be the right size and shape, and then Newt’s grip on it over time just smoothed it to this shine? It was a ridiculous thought, Gally probably used sandpaper on it at some point. But the thought of Newt’s touch being all over this was nice.

You take a hesitant step closer to Newt, shaking him out of his thoughts as the cane moves out of his direct line of sight. He blinks as if coming back to himself, and you lean closer to him while you mildly hear Thomas and Minho bickering next to you. “I’m okay, you know.” You smile at Newt as he finally meets your eyes, trying to give an encouraging nod. “I just slipped a little, but I’m fine. Just gonna be walking funny for the next week.” He gives you a peculiar look, one that likely translates to his own injury and some pointless linking of the two events, until suddenly Minho appears between the two of you. He wraps an arm around Newt’s shoulders, somehow pulling him from his thought spiral- Newt even smiles just slightly at the jostling that Minho supplies.

“What is it with you two and ignoring me today? I’ve been wounded! Don’t you care!” His last sentence was yelled out more as an exclamation than a question, causing the three of you to laugh at his antics. You were appreciative of Minho’s help- if you were anyone else you might just think he was always oblivious and boisterous in a way that he didn’t realize was disrupting. In actuality- knowing of him from books and movies and not just from the few weeks you’ve known him in person- you knew he had a particular knack for noticing when people were feeling a certain way, and was happy to play clown if it meant taking someone’s mind off of things for awhile. He had this way of reading people, especially Thomas and Newt, that you envied. Although with the more often occurring looks that he shoots you, you wonder if he can’t read you at all.

Step Two: Gather supplies.

You were given leave from your job to focus on healing. Which meant a lot of sitting around, staring at people doing their work and feeling antsy to help out. This also gave you plenty of time to stew in your plans, picking them apart piece by piece and thinking up excuses or safety measures for each part. Besides the main goal of actually killing the thing, you had one part of the plan that just wouldn’t seem to fit itself into place. It has you awake tonight, laying in bed and staring at the darkened ceiling above you, listening to the breaths and snores and mumbles of the Gladers around you.

How were you going to get into the Runner’s shed? You obviously had to, that much was for certain. Firstly, they had the running shoes. The good ones, shoes that aren’t falling apart on your feet like your current ones already are. They also had the majority of the paper and pens, which would come in handy. Then, there was the major thing; the map of the maze. You weren’t exactly sure you could memorize the whole thing, or even make a sketch in quick enough time before being noticed missing, but at least taking a look out which gate you’ll be exiting might help.

You turn over on your pad, looking at the barely-covered back of Thomas as he sleeps quietly next to you. It’s almost surprising he’s not a snorer to you- you’re unsure why, he just seemed like the sort. But considering the events of the book series, you suppose it's a good thing that neither Thomas nor Newt were particularly loud sleepers. You wonder for a bit if Minho is- which is when the thought finally comes to you. You sit up quickly, glancing around the dark space looking for him. After all this time spent here, you still have no clue where exactly Minho sleeps, or even if he’s on a bedpad or a hammock. But, this might be the chance you were waiting for.

It’s been a few days since your injury, but your ankle still smarts as you stand without the cane, slowly looking around for Minho’s head. You take a few careful steps, wincing in pain every time you need to use your right foot, but keep your head on a swivel. That’s when you finally see him, sleeping near the middle of the crowd of Gladers in a hammock. You take your time as you make your way over to him, scanning the area surrounding him for some sort of bag or box that might denote his belongings. Your heart sinks as you get close enough to find that his bag is in his hammock with him, laying like a pillow for his feet.

‘Where is that key…’ You wonder to yourself, then begin scanning his form and what you can see of his bag for something that might show what you’re looking for. You’re about to give up- you couldn’t just dig your hand around in his clothing or bag blindly without him noticing- when you finally spot a glint of metal poking from one of his pockets. You glance at Minho’s sleeping face, taking a deep breath and slowly inching your hand closer, gently tugging the metal out of his pocket. You were right, it was a key! Hopefully, it was the key to the Runner’s hut, but you couldn’t exactly know without testing it.

And you couldn’t just keep the key for yourself, considering he goes to the hut first thing in the morning before his run. You curse inwardly as you stare at the key in your hand, biting your lip. You hadn’t exactly planned to be doing this immediately, but you knew you weren’t likely to get another shot like this. You pocket the key as you stare at Minho’s sleeping form once again, promising to return it soon. Turning, you gently pick your way through the crowd of Gladers until you break from the sleeping area, free to walk along the grass.

You want to jog or run- do anything to make this process go faster, but your ankle is still killing you and you don’t want to risk going back to fetch your cane. It takes some time, but eventually, you make it to the small hut in the centre of the Glade, tucked away slightly by a few stray trees from the Deadhead. You shakily pull the key from your pocket, lining it up to the hole in the doorway. You take one last glance around, then stick the key in and turn.

You hear a click as the key does the trick, unlocking the door in front of you. You push the door open, leaving the key in its keyhole as you take a few slow steps inside. All things considered, the hut is just as small on the inside as it looks from the outside- made worse by the large circular table taking up the centre of the room. The table holding the meticulously placed sticks that make up the map of the maze. Your eyes scan over it quickly, a vision of the movie playing before your eyes before you flash back to reality. It's larger in person than you thought it would be, and yet looking inside at the thin walls they have laid out to mock the large stone pillars surrounding you- it’s overwhelming suddenly. You stare at this map in horror- you’re surrounded by layers upon layers upon layers of harsh stone, and yet the runners somehow were able to map the entirety of it out, down to the outskirts.

You’re finally able to tear your gaze away, though you don’t have to look too far to see notes upon notes piled along the table’s edge, and as you grab a couple you notice even more hung along the wall. The papers you hold are labelled for certain days of the week, with lines drawn randomly across the sheets- some papers being held together by some glue-like substance to extend the paper’s reach. You take your time studying the papers in your hands and finally notice the numbers in the corners. Slowly, you take Wednesday’s paper and line it up with the corresponding number on the map. You suck in a breath, as suddenly the walls are changed by the lines of the paper- this was how they were doing it.

The maze changes every day, that was Minho’s entire problem with making this map himself. They seemed to have found a solution to that within the last five years- not only do they have the entire maze mapped out, but they have addendums in place for each subtle change every day. You’re placing different days down on the map, shaking your head at the overflow of information being poured out at you. You weren’t even sure you could memorize the one map, now it’s all of them?

Your eyes slowly glance up and notice a bundle of papers on the wall right next to the door. Tilting your head, you realize it looks familiar, though it’s nothing you’ve ever seen in the movies or read from the books. No… This is what they would imagine a calendar to look like. You place the papers in your hands down, approaching the calendar and studying it closely. There are marks through the days that have passed- not big exaggerated slashes, but enough to know what day it was.

It’s Monday- or, rather, Tuesday you suppose, considering the late hour. Your hand traces the small marks and acronyms along the page, each one meaning something special to the Runners that you have no idea how to comprehend. Your finger drags slowly across the next few days, with no marks along to note anything happening. Your finger stops on the 30th, this Thursday.

You flip the page, expecting the next month to be listed, but it's just the previous month instead. As you flip back more pages, you realise this calendar has been going on for years- likely just adding a new page the next time the month renews. You wonder why they haven’t prepped any extra months in advance, then wonder if it was some notion of hope for freedom. At this you take in a deep breath, fingers tracing across the page. Then another memory comes to you- one more recent and from your current reality.

“So what job am I working?” You asked, ready and eager to help out- to prove yourself if you must. You hesitate at Thomas’ laugh, freezing as you wonder what you said to make him laugh like that. Did he think you were lazy?

“Oh, don’t get too carried away now,” Newt speaks up instead, and you turn an uneasy look toward him as he walks over, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Today’s a light day on the work front- it’s Bonfire Night.”

“Bonfire Night?” You question, glancing slowly back to Thomas as he finally regains control of himself.

“Yeah, no, sorry- that wasn’t that funny I don’t know why I laughed that hard.” Thomas apologises, waving his hands dismissively. “Yeah, it’s Bonfire Night. No one worries about work on Bonfire Night.”

“Speak for yourself,” Chuck mumbles, elbowing Thomas out of his way to be included in your little group. You smile down at the young boy- you think you might be starting to like this one. “But as the glader of honour, you especially can’t work, though. Not until tomorrow- oh!”

“And what he means to say-” Newt interrupts quickly, shooting Chuck a smirk as he pouts from being interrupted. “The Bonfire Night happens the first of every month. They used to be a celebration of the arrival of new Gladers, but we’ve already told you that that’s been dying down. So instead we just throw the party for ourselves.”

“Work for twenty-nine days, and party hard for the last day!” Thomas insists, his grin large as he pumps an arm into the air. You laugh at his bombastic nature, tilting your head.

“Well, technically it’d be the first day.” Newt’s challenge causes you to laugh as Thomas playfully deflates, but you notice he can’t keep the smile off of his face as he stares into Newt’s eyes. You glance between them back and forth, noticing something in the air between them.

“So, anyway, if you’re wondering about what job you’ll be doing tomorrow, why not try out the Sloppers?” Chuck’s enthusiastic voice pops in, interrupting whatever moment was happening just next to you, and you take in a deep breath as you look down at him. With a smile, you chuckle, reaching a hand out to mess with his hair.

“Yeah, sure, kid. Let’s do that.”

Bonfire Night.

Your finger drags across the number 30 to the blank square next to it, tapping on the day. Friday night, bonfire night. If you’re quick enough- if you’re quiet enough- then maybe they won’t even notice your disappearance. That gives you until the end of the week to get your ankle into running shape. The hard part is out of the way already, being inside the Runner’s hut means you can gather the majority of the supplies you’ll need for that night. The last thing you need to worry about now would be getting ahold of some Grief Serum.

With a date set, you turn back toward the map with more determination. You place all the papers but a few back where you found them, laying out Friday’s map across the spikes of the pretend walls. It looks like the east and west gates will be open that day, and you bite your lip, glancing out of the door to look at either of them. You leave the door open, realizing the only light you’re reading by is from the artificial moon above you. You decide to leave through the western gate, the one right next to the Deadheads. Gladers don’t go in there very often, it’ll be easy to hide your bag of supplies there until the end of the week.

You take longer than you would like to study the map. You find what markers meant what traps, and find a few stone-crushing traps that could work to crush a Griever if you timed them just right. Dropping them off of a cliff wouldn’t help, you needed their stinger. You huff a sigh, then grab a piece of paper and begin drawing a very rough, very basic image of just inside the western gate. You needed to at least get there without getting lost. If you could secure the stinger, even if you didn’t make it back-

You stop that train of thought with a huff, shaking your head and folding up the paper you drew on, sliding it into a pocket. You replace Friday’s papers where they go, then take a long look around the rest of the hut. The extra supplies were stuffed on a shelf in the back, practically forgotten. Hopefully, they weren’t taking inventory often and you could use that to your advantage.

You find a sack backpack and a pair of shoes your size, as well as a few blank pieces of parchment, a pencil, a canteen that you’ll need to fill with water, and finally you find a watch that seems to still work. You watch the time ticking away, wishing you could just wear this from now on, but knowing it would be conspicuous. It would be nice to know the exact time whenever you wanted to know, though. Sighing, you pocket that, and everything else, into the bag. Scanning the shelves, it doesn’t look like anything else could be of use to you.

You close and lock the Runner’s shed behind you, heading along the edge of the Deadheads toward the Western Gate. You get as close to the wall as you can, then walk three trees inside the woods. You find a nice crevice between a few tree roots, pulling some dirt out and burying the bag there. Sighing, now that that’s hidden away, you thought you’d feel a sense of ease for not having the contraband on you anymore. If anything, it’s like a weight settling on your shoulders now, a grief that you can’t share with anyone. You make sure to brush your hands clean and pick the dirt from your fingernails on your limped walk back to the sleeping area.

Your eyes are heavy, having supposed to be asleep hours ago. Perhaps more, now, considering you really didn’t know how long you’ve been in the Runner’s hut. At least you didn’t have work in the morning, you tried to reassure yourself, taking your ankle into account. You manage to carefully step your way back to Minho’s hammock without stepping on any stray hands or feet, considering that an accomplishment. Your eyes are heavy, your ankle hurts, and your weight shifts just so while you’re sliding the key back into his pocket. Pain flares up your leg- just the same as before when you fell- and you attempt to muffle your cry of pain as you fall forward, losing balance.

“Hey, what-” Minho wakes up quickly, though unsurprisingly considering you fell on top of him.

“Shuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“[Y/N?]” Minho’s voice is rough and sleepy, but he manages to blink his eyes wide enough to see you leaning against his hammock, making it tilt dangerously to one side. “What happened, are you okay?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine, just my ankle-” You hiss out in pain as you reach down, prodding the bandage with your finger. “Shuck, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall on you at all.” Your eyes land on his form, scanning quickly. You see the edge of the key peeking out of his pocket- at least you managed to put it back before rudely waking him up. Minho pushes himself up to what could be called sitting if it wasn’t in a hammock.

“Hold up, let me-” He swings his legs around, getting out of the hammock and letting the fabric flop uselessly beside the two of you. He turns to you, concern etching across his face. “What were you getting up for? You know that Newt and Thomas would run to grab you anything, even in the dead of night?” He turns quickly at this, scanning across the way as if to assure himself that both of the boys are still there. You watch his shoulders relax slightly once he notices them sleeping peacefully, turning toward you with a confused expression.

“I- I know,” You stutter out, your mind running a mile a minute. “But I couldn’t wake them for this, I-” You hesitate at this, your brow furrowing with panic. Of all the excuses you’ve planned out, you never expected to be in this situation. You begin ranting quietly and quickly, hoping something that makes sense comes out. “My ankle was just throbbing really badly- like it really hurts- and I wanted an ice pack. And I know I could’ve sent them to go get it, but I didn’t want to wake them, I mean it’s Tommy’s last day of work before his day off so he needs the sleep. And of course, Newt always needs his sleep. He’s running around constantly trying to take care of whatever Alby can’t get to. Plus, my foot is all wrapped up and I didn’t want to make it wet with the ice pack and mess it up, so I thought I could go over there without disturbing anyone and unwrap and ice it and then maybe find a fresh one and wrap it up and-”

“Okay, okay” Minho holds his hands out, begging you to calm down with his expression and gestures. “Just, take a breath for me for a second, okay?” You nod, taking a deep breath and trying to calm your racing heart. He’s studying you closely, you can tell even if his face doesn’t show the concentration, and you hope he doesn’t see past your lie. He huffs out a sigh, dropping his hands. “And when you got there, and found out the Medjack hut is locked, what would you do then?”

You freeze at this, wondering if you’ve been caught out. Though he doesn’t look suspicious or blameful, so you take another breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know? I guess I would’ve walked over there for no reason.” Minho huffs out a quiet laugh at this, finally smiling and nodding toward you. He motions for you to follow him, then stops with concern etched across his face once more.

“Wait, where’s your cane?” You bite your lip, gesturing toward the sleeping area. He sighs theatrically, shaking his head. He mumbles something under his breath, and it takes you a moment to realize what he said. “Just as stubborn as he was.” Minho motions for you to stay, picking his way across the sleeping area not quite as carefully as you had. He takes up the cane, bringing it back over to you. The moment you rest your weight against it, you let out a long sigh. You really should’ve brought it with you on the little expedition you took, you hadn’t realized how badly it was hurting you. Minho’s voice is quiet and careful as he places a hand on your elbow, “Come on, I have a key to the Medjack hut. Let’s get you that ice pack.”

“You know, if you had woken Newt up, he could’ve gotten the key and the ice pack for you, and brought it over to you somewhere closer to the sleeping area so you wouldn’t have to walk on it for so long.”

You swallow roughly, shrugging a shoulder once Minho turns around from unlocking the door, holding it open for you. You limp forward, leaning heavily on your cane, and make your way to the closest cot to the door. You hop up onto it, your eyes immediately flicking to the cabinet with the Grief Serum but glancing away just as quickly. Leaning the cane against the side of the bed, you look up and watch as Minho makes his way over to the little storage area situated in the ground, pulling the trapdoor up and reaching inside.

“He barely gets any sleep as it is,” Your voice is quiet, mumbled really, but you know Minho is easily able to hear it in the silence that surrounds the two of you. He sighs as he pulls out an ice pack, closing the trapdoor softly and moving over to you. You pull your leg up onto the bed belatedly, reaching down to pull apart the bandages. Minho bats your hand out of the way, setting the ice pack on the bed and working on carefully undoing them himself.

“Yeah, ‘cause he worries about you lot.” Minho’s own voice is quiet, you hadn’t really heard him speak this way but for a few short and serious moments. They were few and far between, but you were always curious when they did pop up. It was as if he was showing you his real self instead of the front he puts up most of the time. Although, you couldn’t classify his playful side as a front in all honesty; every person is multifaceted.

“Yeah,” You agree with a wince, causing him to glance up at you before looking back at what he’s doing. “He’s always so worried about the Glade, even when Alby-”

“I wasn’t talking about the Glade.” Minho’s interruption was just as gentle as his hands, talking softly but full of care. He pauses his hands, looking up at you with a serious look. “You lot. Thomas, Chuck, even Gally. And now you.” He lowers his gaze to your ankle again, pulling the bandage more gently now that he is peeling it from your skin.

“He worries about you too, Minho.” You didn’t know why you felt the need to say this, but you watched a small smile grow across his face. Then, you realize that you fully admitted he was right when saying that. You hadn’t even bothered to deny the notion.

“I know he worries about me. But I’m the least of his concern.” He pulls the old bandages up, placing the ice pack on your ankle before beginning to inspect them. “You were right before though, you definitely need new bandages.”

“And how did you get so good at Medjacking, then?” Minho’s smirk grows, giving you a side-eye.

“I get injured pretty often.”

“Ah. So plenty reason for Newt to worry, then.” Minho’s small falls slightly, just enough for his expression to turn serious once more as he turns to face you.

“But I heal just as quickly.” He circles the bed, standing next to you and looking into your eyes as if searching for something. “I’m his friend, sure. And he worries about his friends. But he worries about you more.” You’re already shaking your head, ready to deny it when he interrupts you, lifting a hand as if to pause you. “Don’t deny it. I know you see it just as much as I do. The way he acts and caters to you.” Minho drops his hand and is quiet for a moment before he finally whispers, “Just like he is with Thomas,” Then begins to walk over to the wash basin for the Medjacks. It’s currently empty, but he lays the dirty bandages inside, moving to go grab some fresh ones. You’re quiet as you watch him walk, only speaking up once he has them in hand and is moving back toward you.

“Is there a point you’re trying to make?” You huff out a sigh, shaking your head. “Everyone keeps telling me how Newt treats me special. Keeps equating me to Tommy- which they shouldn’t. I’m not like Tommy. I’m-” You huff out again, your eyes scanning the room around you as you try to think up the words to finish the sentence, even though they refuse to come to you.

“They’re saying it because it’s true, obviously.” Minho snarks, smirking at you as he takes a seat on the bed next to your iced ankle. “If I’m saying it, then you know it's serious.” You just set a glare on him, feeling tired still. The pain and falling onto Minho had filled you with adrenaline earlier, but the tiredness from your lack of sleep was catching up to you. Minho’s face gentles as he notices this, placing a hand on your leg. “Look, the point I’m making is that Newt has sunk a lot of his feelings into you. And that’s not a bad thing. So long as you feel the same way.” He ends his sentence like a statement, but you see the question mark in his eyes. You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“He,” Your voice cracks and you clear it, but you can’t manage to get your voice to go above a whisper. “There’s nothing for me there. I’m not like Tommy.” You say it with more emphasis, begging him to understand with your eyes. You see confusion cross his face for a few moments before it clears like he finally realizes what you’re saying. He looks away, chewing on his lip and messing with the bandages in his hand. When he speaks, his voice startles you, having been silent for a good few minutes.

“You know, Thomas always talks about you on our runs.” You furrow your brow, tilting your head as you stare at his side profile.

“What?”

“Well, he talks about a lot of things. That boy can talk, let me tell you. But he mostly talks about you. Or Newt.” He glances at you from the corner of his eye, then lowers his gaze down to the bandages he keeps unrolling and rerolling back up. “It used to be just Newt. But from the moment you came into the Glade, he can’t stop thinking about you. Worrying about you.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Man, the day after your Bonfire Night, you were the only thing he could think of. Only thing he talked about, for sure.” You don’t know what your face looks like as you take in this information, but whatever it is must’ve been funny from the laugh that Minho lets out when he finally looks back at you. “No, I’m serious!

“When we go out running, we don’t always stay together. We have certain paths we trace, different ways we need to explore and record and whatnot, but we generally all meet back up at different parts throughout the day, especially during lunch, everyone gets together for that one.” He shakes his head, looking off into space as he’s remembering. “I remember that day, though, specifically. Because he just wouldn’t shut up. ‘Do you think they’re taking to the new job well? I don’t think they’ll be a Slopper, do you think they’ll be a Slopper? I mean, it’s fine if they’re a Slopper, they can have any job they wanna have, obviously.’ Like, my man, shut up.”

You laugh finally at this, but the idea of Thomas thinking of you like that- so often, and so early on?- was enough to have your brain freeze on the spot. Thomas? Really? Although, he hasn’t exactly made any attempt to hide his curiosity of you, even going so far as to ask a million questions the second week you were off work. The third day off you guys shared was once again full of play, relaxation, but none of the serious talk. It almost felt as if he was scared to bring up anything serious like that again. You wondered why, but you had a pretty good inkling it might’ve been the slight shyness you’d felt after remembering everyone and where they’re from. You still wished you could tell him something to explain that away, but nothing felt right when you tried to come up with the correct lie. Maybe you just didn’t want to lie to Thomas.

“Anyway, we’ve been putting up with it. I mean, how could you not? Thomas is so single-minded, even if we screamed about another topic at him, he still wouldn’t shut up. Unless it was another thing he cared about. One time I got him to finally stop worrying about who you were hanging out with by asking him if Newt was going to be hosting Gally’s surprise party.” You perk your ears, tilting your head at this news.

“Surprise party?”

“Not the point,” Minho holds out a finger toward you, exasperation clear on his face. “The point is that Thomas likes you also. As much as Newt does, I’d bet.” You furrow your brows as you try to understand this thought. The words weren’t hard to understand, true, but the concept that Thomas might like you as much as he likes Newt? You’ve seen the way he looks at the man, how could that be possible? You bite your lip in doubt, but Minho ploughs forward. “In fact, he’s one of my best friends too, right alongside Newt. So I’ll say the same thing as I did before. He feels a crap ton about you, which is fine. That’s all dandy, as long as you feel the same way.” He sighs, staring directly into your eyes as if he can pull the truth from them himself. “I just don’t want this to go on for too long if you don’t have plans to reciprocate those feelings. You guys move on your own terms, sure, but-”

“What are you saying?” You couldn’t help but interrupt, your breathing speeding up as realisation is slowly coming to you. “That- What, that Newt and Thomas both have feelings for me?”

“Well,” Minho winces, looking away finally as if trying to come up with an excuse for his argument. “I mean, feelings is a very general term, so yeah, sure. Feelings. I won’t specify which ones, but strong feelings, yeah.” You scoff, then begin laughing, shaking your head.

“No, no. That’s not possible.” You continue to shake your head in disbelief, staring at him with wide eyes. “No, ‘cause I’ve only been here a month so far. They can’t-” You change direction, throwing a hand out toward him. “Everyone always says they feel some sort of way for each other. Even Gally compared the two of them to him and Ben!” Minho starts to chuckle, then nods slowly.

“I can see where he would get that notion, though Newt doesn’t quite move as fast as Gally does.” You blink a few times, watching Minho as he voluntarily brings up the context. “Oh, Gally was obsessed with Ben for a good few years before even talking properly to the man. Then he took another year before he finally asked him out.” Minho laughs, shaking his head. “Granted, Newt and Thomas hit it off immediately and have been friends the whole time. But they haven’t made an actual move yet, that I know of. Everyone knows they’re practically destined for each other, it’s a wonder why they aren’t making out at the seating area every day before the run.”

You continue to watch his little rant, nodding along. “Yeah. So, that, then. They like each other.” Minho turns to look at you with a look of disbelief mixed with annoyance. He sighs, leaning closer to you, placing a hand by your thigh to hold himself up.

“You must’ve missed what I said then. Newt and Thomas like you just as much as they like each other.” It was almost an impulse at this point, to start shaking your head in rejection of what he just said. He sighs, straightening back up and throwing his hands in the air in mock surrender. “I’m just calling it like I see it. But I feel like if you’re gonna listen to anyone about this, it should be me.” He hesitates, then wiggles his head back and forth. “Well, Newt and Thomas firstmost, but I doubt they’d make any moves considering their history. But me also. You know, I am their best friend.” You nod, conceding that point to him. Hell, they broke into Wicked’s main complex to spirit him away toward the end of their story, you already knew how they felt about each other.

The silence that surrounds you feels suffocating. It’s hard to accept they have feelings for you mainly because you know the type of risk that you’re plotting. Going out into the maze, killing a Griever? If they lo-... If they liked you as much as Minho was saying they did, then it added so much more risk to the operation. No, you just couldn’t accept that they felt that way about you. Because if it killed them to see you gone, then it would kill you just as much to walk away. Into that maze. You were already terrified for your own safety, you couldn’t take having this stacked on top of it.

“I don’t want to hurt them,” You whisper, and you glance up to see Minho’s surprised face as he turns to meet your eyes. It seems like he wasn’t expecting an answer. “I’m not saying I don’t feel the same way. I-” You sigh out, shaking your head, “I don’t know what I feel. But I can’t just choose between them.” You watch Minho’s surprise melt into a mix of sympathy and understanding. He only says two words, but it changes something in you as you hear it.

“Then don’t.”

[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

[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.

[midnightkens]

had the shiniest wheels, now they’re rusting

TW for mentions of DV

****

Ken crosses his arms and leans against the doorjamb, keeping his gaze downcast. There’s a dark brown stain on the rug. Spilled coffee, maybe? Colt rifles through his drawers in search of sweatpants. They’ll be big, but Ken doesn’t mind. The stuntman’s clothes are so soft and warm, a blanket of protection and safety. 

Safety. What does that even mean anymore? Images of cozy Saturday nights with Barbie, Gloria, Ryan, and Sasha dance around the room, and there’s a pang of longing so deep that Ken aches with it. They’re blissfully unaware of this secret, the deep shame that’s burrowed underneath his skin and settled into his bones. It’s better this way, isn’t it? The family already knows too much, and Patrick loathes them.

He is  willing to sacrifice safety if it means keeping his family. It isn’t a fair trade, but when has anything about this relationship been fair?

“Okay.” Ken’s startled out of his stupor by a slamming drawer. He averts his eyes from the stained carpet and looks at Colt, squirming uncomfortably. Those blue eyes see right through him. How is it possible for a man who has only been in his life for six months to understand Ken more than his partner of over a year? “These should work.”

Ken reaches for the black sweatpants, but Colt doesn’t pass them. He chews his lower lip huffs. Ken eyes him curiously. “What?”

“Are you okay?” The words are so jumbled that it takes Ken a moment to understand them. He opens his mouth, but Colt presses on. “You’ve been really quiet all night. I’ve been wanting to ask, but, you know…A lotta people.”

I’m fine. The words are on the tip of his tongue, but they refuse to come out. Ken huffs. It would be so easy to lie. Lying comes naturally. There was a time where he would have balked at the very concept. Why would anyone lie? But now, jaded by time and experience, he understands. Lying is paramount to his survival.

I got enough sleep. I’m fine.

I’ve been eating enough. Don’t worry about me.

I fell off my surfboard and sprained my wrist. 

I’m an idiot. I walked into a door.

Lie and pray that the day won’t be a disaster. Don’t lie and wait with baited breath, wound as tightly as a coil, tension so thick it’s tangible. It’s a dangerous game, a constant balancing on a shimming tightrope that requires airtight execution. 

Leaving Barbie Land was supposed to fix everything. Finally, his own script at the tip of his fingers! Only that script has been torn to shreds, pieces of doll and man scattered so carelessly that Ken sometimes wonders if anyone sees them. 

Doll and man are once again beholden to the whims of another person. A heart beats steadily in a chest that rises and falls with life, but the body is an empty husk, more dollike than ever before.

“Ken?”

Ken jumps and blinks, running a hand through his hair. Stop doing that. You’re being weird again. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“You’re not fine, and I am worried about you, so there’s that.”

A tiny smile quirks at the corners of Ken’s lips. It’s nice, albeit dangerous, to have someone aside from Barbie and their little family actually care. But he’s always been greedy for attention and affection, especially from Colt. He’s not sure how the other man yanked him into his orbit so quickly. Ken isn’t strong enough to resist. Not that he’s trying that hard, but…

Colt sighs, and the former doll wants nothing more than to envelope him into a hug and soothe the aches. But how is he supposed to fix Colt’s aches when he’s the source?

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

It would be easy to play dumb, to go back to his world of pretend and play-acting. Lying is easy…Except for when the object of his affections is asking. At one point, Ken would have given Patrick the world; now, he yearns to give it to Colt, to give him the scattered pieces of himself. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Traces of the pleasant buzz linger, even hours later. 

All Ken knows is that between the alcohol and everything that is Colt, lying would be impossible. 

“I have to tell you something.” 

[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?”

[nnothingnesss]

The Dark (Short Story)

Mani and Glam survive in a dystopian world where nobody know’s what happens in the dark.

I watched her paint. It made me feel wide awake in the middle of a long dream. It was nice. It's the first time I'd ever seen someone make real art before. I had read of painting from books about Salvador Dali but I'd never imagined I'd see it in person. I feel like a witness to some ancient skill from a dead civilization I'll have to testify against. She continues streaking the canvas with black acrylics banishing white from the piece forever. My imagination trails to a bustling museum full of people who came peacefully to revere someone like her.

Had anyone else seen her, she probably would've been taken to the local scavengers and never seen again. Watching her unleash a mad passion on that canvas makes me think she really doesn't care, that she'd leave a hole in between any pair of eyes that tried. And after she'd go right back to painting.

"You mean to tell me you can just shoot a handgun all day and come back here and make such delicate artwork? Like it's nothing?" I asked her

"Pretty much," she tells me.

"Here I was thinking I was crazy. I can't stop shaking,"

"You need to get used to it,"

"Not something I want to get used to."

I look back down at my hands and I've finally managed to calm down a little. Flashes of what happened earlier, the dark man, the forest, the sunsetting sky.

"Are you sure we're safe?" I begin to worry again.

"I promise. We've been here for almost six hours and nothing has happened right?"

"So you mean we can just stay here forever and we'll be fine?"

"Yeah, if you want to leave our stuff at the school and never see the others again, sure"

Worry. I'm a huge worrier. I worry constantly. I really can't stop it.

"I don't want to leave," I say. She stops to set down her brush. Her painting is more than halfway finished. Four more hours until sunrise.

"We talked about this, we'll leave once the sun starts coming up so we can see that thing if it tries to follow us, then we'll run back into the high school and grab the rest of our stuff and we'll head right back to the city."

"I know, god please, I'm just scared"

"If you ever freeze up like you did in that forest again and I'm not there, you'll die."

"I know,"

"If you do that in the school then I'll have to be the one to put you down. And I swear to god, Mani, if I have to be the one to put you down I will fucking kill you. This isn't your first rodeo, so don't go acting like a rookie."

"You're right. Sorry."

"It's okay. I know, that thing, it almost got to you. You don't have to talk about it with me just so you know."

"No it's fine, it's just..." a shiver travels down my spine “I don’t want to think about what that thing would do to us.”

Glam doesn't say anything, instead she picks her brush up and dips it in paint.

"I can't shake it.”

3 Hours Later

I can see the first orange ray peaking through the blinds. It lights up the dark and cold room, overcast with shadows and covered furniture. I can begin making out the features of Glam’s face as she sleeps on the hard floor. She found me after I ran away from..well..we can talk about that later.

I don’t think that there’s anything wrong with running. Our jobs were pretty much that at any given moment. Any one you met was running from something. Whether it be from the Dark or their past, it wasn’t hard to tell. We all have seen it, with our own eyes. I’m just happy all the innocent people who died in the first few nights never had to.

“Hey, Glam, the sun is up,”

Glam darts awake, startled and then relaxes. Reflex.

“God, I’m tired of these awful nightmares,”

“I know. Come on, let’s go,”

“Just give me a minute will you?”

We stand up from the corner of the room. We managed to run into this estate last minute, right before the sun began going down. I look down the room to find a way carefully through tarp covered furniture. Whoever lived here must’ve been incredibly rich. They must’ve also thought they’d be coming back. God were they wrong.

“I swear the God’s hate us,” I sigh.

I place a couple of rationed food on the table while Glam took her few minutes. A couple cans of peaches, homemade beef jerky, and water. That’s it. I open the yellow can of peaches with a small combat knife. I got it off a dead soldier on the way into the forest. This was my first time ever using it.

After I pour the peaches into a partially cleaned bowl, I begin to pick out debris and any occasional insect that might’ve found it’s way into the can. One of them had a bullet hole on the side of it. The kitchen was filled with them.

I’m not sure why life turned out like this. Why the Dark had to become violent. All I know is now, any humans left out there will kill you quicker than any Dark could if they know you’ve been outside all night. Glam would do it. And so would I.

“Mani,”

Last night, I was this fucking close. I was so close to getting caught by the Dark. The sky was mostly purple and I never ever look behind me when I’m running. But nobody know’s what the fuck happens in the dark.

“Mani,”

I looked behind me, to the opposite side of the sun, the darkness in all of the trees, there was no light. The thing had fucking horns for god’s sake, and it was moving towards me so fast I could see it shaking the trees. I could feel it was hungry. If any of them get close to you I am so sorry you have to die that painful and miserable death.

“Alright, Mani your just sitting there with your damn hand in the peach bowl, wake up”

Glam pulls my hand out of the bowl.

“Oh you’re up, feeling better?” she asks me.

“I’m feeling ready. Let’s just get this shit over with.”

“Yeah. I’m with you there,”

The school wasn’t far just a 20 minute walk. In broad daylight we were completely safe from those hideous creatures. Unfortunately it makes other survivors the little tree mongers.

I’ve ran into people who kidnap women and do the most terrible things. Their smiles leave the most insidious feeling behind in their words and conversation.

And more often then not, these interactions were unavoidable. If it weren’t for squatters and cargo movers keeping our sensitive karma in check, I wouldn’t be making money and they wouldn’t be jumping like kids.

We don’t need to get too explicit. Sometimes discernment is key. Intuit into everyone around us and if you smell smoke? Run. In these terrible times it was all about survival. Not who’s got cooler stories in the dark.

“You got everything?” Glam asks.

“Yeah, come on.” I throw my bag over my back and walk behind Glam through the front door.