#I’ll be laughing for the rest of the summer break and beyond

[lightsoutandaway]

[sweetercalypso]

Texas Hold ‘Em || Joel Miller

Summary: when a heatwave interrupts your lake house vacation, you and dbf!Joel find another way to have some fun

Word Count: 2.4k

Notes: minors dni; stripping, blowjob, unprotected p in v sex, pull-out method, reader on top, implied age gap, afab reader, mentions of alcohol and drinking

Summer in Texas is hot.

Cracked asphalt sidewalks burn underfoot, paired with sharp, dry grass that pricks at your skin when you stray off the path in search of relief.

The sun is too bright, the air is unbearably warm, and the humidity is enough to take your breath away.

Days like this are best spent inside.

With an impending heat wave looming in the forecast, it seems like summer might pass by entirely before you have the chance to enjoy your break. Joel Miller – a drinking buddy your dad had picked up in recent years – had offered you a trip to his lakeside cabin with the promise that a cold drink and a dip in the water would be the perfect remedy for the high temperatures.

You’d arrived three days ago, and every afternoon since had brought a thick, sweltering heat that made it impossible to pull yourself away from the comfort of the living room. Even the calm, inviting waves lapping gently at the lake’s edge weren’t enough to tempt you back outdoors to fry under the brutal sun.

The only solution was to sulk inside, bitterly cherishing the tiny air conditioner working overtime to keep you cool. Joel didn’t seem outwardly bothered by the heat, but you could tell he preferred to stay indoors, too.

“S’posed to be in the high 90’s today,” he says, strolling into the living room with his attention turned to the vivid landscape beyond the patio doors. “But it’s so humid, it’ll feel like a hundred.”

You tip your head back and let out a dramatic groan, resenting the prospect of another day spent inside. You liked Joel, and his cabin was nice, but you wanted nothing more than to feel the sun on your skin, to be submerged in the cool, twinkling lake like you’d been promised.

“Can’t we go sit by the water, just for a little while?”

His mouth turns down at the corners, frowning as he thinks. “That’s up to you, darlin’. Just don’t want you gettin’ burnt up out there.”

You know he’s right. Even from the comfort of the living room, you could tell that it was too hot to venture outside. The handful of other cabins scattered around the lake were all vacant for the season, driveways sitting empty and abandoned canoes rocking idly at the pier.

“How ‘bout we find something else to do? Don’t have to sit here bored just ‘cause we’re stuck inside.”

Joel’s cabin was barely furnished beyond the necessities – an outdated kitchen, a stiff living room set, and a couple beds tucked away in otherwise empty rooms. But you couldn’t complain.

No one comes to a lake house to admire the décor.

He perches himself on the other end of the couch and you move to sit up beside him. “What d’you want to do?”

“Well,” he drawls, stalling as he looks around for an answer. “There’s cold beer in the fridge. Got a deck of cars around here somewhere. That could be a good start.”

“Beer and poker? Sounds like quite the party.”

“Hey,” he laughs, hands raised in mock offense. “It’s the best I can do for now.”

Your head tilts as you consider his offer.

Joel was handsome, aged like fine wine with a glint in his eye that spoke of a hidden depth you’d like to explore. Maybe you could have some fun this summer after all.

“All right,” you decide, slipping off the couch with newfound interest. “You find the cards, I’ll get the beer.”

Five minutes later and you’re sitting across the cabin’s small, circular kitchen table, dealing cards from the worn-out deck that Joel had pulled from the junk drawer.  

“Poker, huh?” He grabs his drink by the neck of the bottle. “We don’t have any chips, though. How are we gonna know who wins?”

You place the rest of the deck to the side and pick up the two cards you’d been dealt, fingertips gliding over their frayed, softened corners. “I know another way we can play.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Instead of winning poker chips, whoever has the best hand picks something for the other person to take off. If you refuse, you lose.”

“So, strip poker?” he says with a dry laugh. “You’re not serious.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. Besides – as hot as it is, we don’t need clothes anyway.”

Joel shrugs and tips back his drink, thinking about the day you’d arrived at the cabin, still clinging to your hopes of having the perfect vacation.

Stubbornly glued to the beach towel you’d placed at the edge of the water, sweat glistening on your bare skin, donning a swimsuit that would’ve made a lesser man blush – he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested.  

“Okay, fine.” He concedes and rests his forearms against the table, a wry grin pulling at his features. “But I’ll have you know, I’m very good at poker.”

Four rounds later, and Joel had yet to live up to his claim. Maybe it was just the luck of the cards, or maybe you’d spent enough time observing the man’s expressions to call his bluff, but you’d won every hand so far.

The first round was a close call – a full house versus three-of-a-kind. You’d chosen Joel’s watch to ease into the game, and he’d stared you down with a fire in his eyes as he placed it face-up on the table.

Next, you’d doubled down and won with an ace high, and Joel had been relieved of his shoes and his belt, which he’d dropped onto the floor with the promise of a comeback. The third hand played out the same way and you’d demanded his flannel, stealing glances at his toned arms as he handed over your reward.

By the fourth turn, you were reeling from the high of your winning streak and ready to make your move.

“I thought you said you were good at this, Mr. Miller.” You bat your lashes at him with an exaggerated simper as he deals out the next hand.

“I’m a pro, sweetheart. Just thought I’d let you have your fun.”

Throughout the round, your attention flickers back and forth between your cards and the man sitting across from you. Joel’s left with only his t-shirt and jeans to gamble away, and while you’re deciding which to relieve him of next, he slaps his cards down with a boisterous laugh.

“Well, would you look at that – a royal flush.”

A king and queen lay strewn out on the table, their stony, time-worn faces taunting you with their triumph. You’d been too distracted to notice that the community cards all shared a common suit, lining up perfectly with the cards Joel had been dealt.

He sucks in a slow breath and looks over you in careful consideration, debating what to take for his win. Finally, he gestures to your top and says, “take it off”.  

Still shocked by the unanticipated loss, you place your cards down with a huff and shrug the thin material over your head without complaint. The sunlight glaring through the windows warms your exposed skin as you reveal yourself to Joel’s unwavering stare.

You toss your shirt at his chest and he catches it with a raised brow, eyes tracing over the curve of your breasts before trailing gradually back to your face. He adds your top to the growing pile of clothes littering the floor around his chair. When he speaks, his voice is low in his throat, like he’d finally understood your plan.

“Just beautiful, darlin’,” he says under his breath. “How ‘bout we raise the stakes a bit?”

“What’d you have in mind?”

His jaw tenses as he mulls over his options. “If I win, you come over here and use that pretty mouth for something other than trash talkin’. If you win, I’ll fuck you any way you want.”

You bite your lip to hold back the pleased grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. Either way, you’re bound to have a good time.

“Sounds like a deal, cowboy.”

A palpable tension fills the air as Joel shuffles the deck with a renewed confidence. He lays out the sequence and flips the first three over, and it doesn’t seem like the cards are in your favor.

It’s an aimless, faceless group, and the next two aren’t much better. None of your cards pair together, and there’s nothing to do but accept your fate.

You muck your hand onto the pile with a mumbled profanity, waiting for Joel to flaunt his win. When he drops his own useless cards in the middle of the table, you look up to find him just as perplexed as you.

It’s a tie.

Neither of you have enough to make a decent hand, leaving the game in a dead heat. All this built-up tension relying on this pivotal round, and it’s a tie.

“Well,” Joel says, scratching absently at the salt and pepper stubble lining his cheeks. “I’d say it’s a draw.”

“So, who wins?”

He thinks for a moment before leaning back in his chair and not-so-subtly positioning his knees with room for you to sit in between them. “I think we both win.”

You take the glaringly obvious suggestion and pull yourself out of your seat, slinking around the table to situate yourself between Joel’s legs.

“Claim your prize, Mr. Miller.”

Your hands sweep over his thighs as he pops open the button of his jeans and drags his thickening cock from the confines of his boxers. Beaded precum drools from the tip as he languidly palms his shaft.   

The sight of his digits running over the length of his cock is hypnotizing – rough, calloused fingers against warm, flushed skin. A burning fire builds in your core as you imagine how his cock would feel inside of you.

“Open up for me, sugar.”

He cups your jaw with his free hand and guides you closer until his salty head rests against the plush of your bottom lip. When your tongue darts out to trace the vein on the underside of his cock, he groans and inches forward in his seat.

“Fuck- take it all.”

You eagerly bob over his length and Joel revels in your rapt attention, in the way you dedicate yourself to the task at hand.

“Such a nice mouth,” he pants, prodding the head of his cock against the inside of your cheek and admiring the protrusion it creates. Your fingers twist into the material of his jeans and you chastise yourself for not starting the game with a bolder approach.

Joel’s hips buck against your face as he dips his cock further into your mouth, lingering briefly on the back of your tongue before hesitantly pulling back with a hiss.

“As much as I’d like to keep you down there all day, we’d better stop now if you want your reward.”

You’d almost forgotten about the bet you’d made, too preoccupied with swallowing Joel’s length to remember how you’d gotten into this position in the first place.

He holds a hand out to help you up, and you lick the remnants of his presence from your lips.

“Where d’you want me?” He trails a hand over your arm, sending a shiver up the length of your spine.

“Here,” you say with impressive ambition. “Right here in this chair, just like I’ve pictured all evening.”

“Yeah? Gonna ride my cock right here in the kitchen?”

You nod with conviction and Joel grins as his hands move to the button of your jeans. He yanks the material down past your thighs, fingers hooked into the waist band of you underwear to leave you bare in one move.

“This too,” you mention with a tug to his t-shirt. You want to see everything while you have the chance – who knows how many times a simple game of poker will amount to this.

Your jeans pool at your feet and you step out of them while Joel throws his shirt somewhere off to the side, dark curls sticking up in odd directions from the fabric disrupting their shape.

He leans back against the chair and holds your waist while you position yourself in his lap, his cock twitching with interest as it brushes against your skin. You’re not sure who’s more eager for what’s to come – you or the man beneath you.  

Joel laments the lost opportunity of taking you apart on his fingers and his mouth, but there’s no delaying the zealous way you sink down onto his cock. That’s alright, he thinks with a choked noise, there’s always next time.

His thick length parts your walls with a delicious pressure, nudging against your sweet spot when you settle completely onto his lap. You’re still for a moment as you adjust to the strain, chest heaving with the effort of keeping yourself upright.

“Oh, fuck- you feel perfect.”

Joel’s hands travel up your sides until his warm palms find the swell of your tits. He leans in to sweep messy, open-mouthed kisses against the column of your throat, distracting himself with your heavy breath until you’re ready to move.

After what feels like an eternity of waiting in greedy impatience, you regain your strength enough to wrap your thighs around his waist, molding yourself to his frame as you lift up halfway before coming back down, smearing slick over his skin.

“That’s it,” he grunts. “Take what you need.”

Your pace quickens each time you raise off his cock, coming back down and grinding against his pelvis in one fluid motion. His broad, freckled shoulders are warm under your hands, an anchor for the rhythmic cycle of your hips over his.

“M’not gonna last much longer.”

You pant as his hand abandons your breast to stroke circles against your puffy clit, carrying you to the precipice of your release.

When your movements falter and you crumple against his chest, Joel picks up where you left off. He thrusts up into you in search of his pleasure, grunting as your walls flex around him.

Just as he’s about to tip over the edge, he slides his length free and grips the base with a tight fist, rubbing the head of his cock against your balmy skin as he paints the evidence of his arousal over your naval.

The air is filled with a litany of lewd sounds, pants and sighs overlapping in your equal states of bliss. Joel’s softening cock rests against your thigh as you run your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck and he flattens a hand against the arch of your back, both thinking about how fortunate it was that Joel suggested a card game to cure your mutual boredom.

[wileys-russo]

hey!! could i request a little fluffy kcc fic where it’s like ‘the 5 times you and kyra almost kissed and the 1 time u did’ or sumth like that :P

the five times you almost kissed kyra, and the one time you did II k.cooney-cross

this is a super cute concept, maybe I’ll make this a lil prompt series for different players 🫶🏻

@celmeme this one’s for you bby

the five times you almost kissed kyra, and the one time you did II k.cooney-cross

one. you'd befriended kyra since the very first day the two of you had signed for melbourne victory. having played alongside one another a few times before in the young matildas a few years prior you knew of each other, but beyond that you’d really not interacted all that much at all.

you'd grown a lot closer at victory, being the same age you often roomed together for away games and through nights spent filled with breathless laughter, poor dad jokes and card games your friendship deepened.

you hadn't realized you felt much more for her than loving her like your best friend until it was during one of those sleepless sleepovers, the two of you clutching at your stomachs as your guts hurt from the deep belly laughs you desperately tried to stifle into your hands.

you were sprawled out on her bed, your own laying untouched with both your cases on it, clothes flung messily around the room as the two of you came down from a post win high, agreeing to pull an all nighter so you could sleep on the flight home tomorrow.

kyra was determined to teach you a new card game, one she'd grown up playing that must have been a queensland tribute as you'd grown up in victoria and never once heard of it.

your growing frustrations at losing over and over were grating at your patience, but the more annoyed you became the more kyra's grin grew.

"i give up!" you huffed, throwing the cards in her smug face and flopping down onto the bed with a frown. "sore loser! sore loser! sore loser!" the girl chanted beside you, playfully smacking you in the face with the playing cards as she grinned.

she finally ceased her teasing and laid down beside you, the two of you on your sides so you were face to face. kyra challenged you to a staring competition, forever competing with you over anything she could, and you of course accepted.

though as you were practically forced to look at her, properly look at her, you couldn't help but be distracted as you locked in on all the little features which made her, well her.

the freckles which littered her sun kissed skin, arching over her nose and cheeks, the alluringly safe and warm pools of hazel which were her eyes, the dimples in each corner of her mouth as she gave you that signature cheeky grin.

and her lips, her rosy pink lips which sat there staring right at you, you felt a weird pull in your stomach and blinked, the girls cheering at her victory snapping you out of it.

you could have kissed the smug smile right off her face then and there.

two. you don't know how you ended up here, you hated crowds and you hated the feel of the sweaty bodies all pressed up against you, the sour tang of alcohol soaked clothing filling the air.

but when you glance to your left and see her smile, everything else just melted away and suddenly there isn't anywhere else you'd rather be than here by her side.

you'd lost the rest of your friends hours ago but neither of you minded, wanting to see different bands than they had anyway and you all knew where to meet up later once the festival came to a close and the six of you would begin your long walk back to the caravan park you were spending the weekend at.

you hear her yell in your ear that she wants to get closer, her favourite band are up next and she's been hanging for their set all day, they were the main reason the two of you even ended up at this festival in the first place.

neither of you were drinking, just soaking in the luxury of another blisteringly hot australian summer and having a week break in between the A League season finishing and the international camp starting.

you felt her hand slip into yours, squeezing tightly as she threaded her way through the throng of intoxicated bodies littered around you, glancing over her shoulder with an excited grin to check you were still with her, eventually settling a few rows back from the front of the barricade.

she chattered away happily to you, always having been the talker among the pair of you as you were ever an avid listener. you loved the way she spoke so animatedly, gesturing her hands around and throwing her whole body into a story, switching between personalities and accents to really make you feel as though you'd been there with her.

the sun setting behind the main stage casted a gorgeous orange glow on the eager crowd below, the next band announced as a deafening cheer ripped out the pack of festival goers, kyra screaming in your ear as she shook you happily making you let out a loud laugh.

it was a few songs in when two more of your friends found you, hands resting on your shoulders as kyra's face lit up even more as they started to play her favourite song. you laughed in surprise as she grabbed your hands, sunglasses teetering on the end of her nose as she sang to you, spinning you around and dipping you as your laughter only increased.

though your breath caught in your throat as she suddenly pulled your body into hers, pressing her sweat dampened forehead to yours and screaming the final few lyrics in your face, lips only a mere millimeters from yours

all it would have taken was a slight adjustment, a sudden burst of unwavering confidence and you'd have kissed her, you wished you had.

three. the first real bump in the road came when both you and kyra finally broke out of the A League and into the international football scene. she signed with hammerby and you with arsenal, and though you'd spent time on different teams when she'd moved briefly to the wanderers, you'd never had this sort of distance between you.

it meant for more sleepless nights but this time alone, the two of you staying up to watch one anothers respective matches when they were on, face timing as much as you could and keeping in as much contact as possible.

and though your feelings for kyra should have dimmed given the way you'd not seen one another properly for so long, it seemed the distance in between you two had made your heart grow fonder.

you found your mind constantly occupied wondering what she was doing in the spare pockets of time you had to yourself.

not that you really had to try to hard to imagine it given kyra texted you at least a hundred times a day with constant updates of her whereabouts, inner monologue and just sometimes the most unhinged random thoughts which popped into her head.

as the months ticked by you found yourself counting down to the next matildas camp, your stomach knotting at the worry that you might not be called up, despite steph and caitlin's constant reassurance you would be.

of course, you were, and not even thirty seconds after hanging up with tony did kyra's contact photo flashed across your screen making you smile.

"looks like i'll be stuck with you again in july." she sighed dramatically as the two of you chattered away and wandered from where a few of the other girls were huddled together for a movie night, sitting out on steph's back deck as calvin came to keep you company.

"oh show me!" kyra begged as you scratched at the furball with his head on your legs, switching to facetime and flipping your screen to show him, kyra cooing her hello's. "well well well and here i was thinking you were out here alone." you jumped slightly hearing steph's voice as she came to join you.

"congratulations on the squad call up, not that any of us doubted you both would be. except maybe this one!" steph playfully shoved your head as you handed her your phone, her and kyra catching up for a moment before your best friend bid you both goodbye, needing to get ready for training.

"god you're both such oblivious idiots." steph chuckled as she handed you back your phone. "and what's that supposed to mean stephanie?" you challenged with narrowed eyes as the two of you stood, the older girl shaking her head with a smile.

"it means you're both clearly obsessed with one another but too in denial the other feels the same way to act on it." she smiled knowingly, slinging an arm over your shoulder and whistling for calvin to follow you both inside.

"shut up." you grumbled, shoving her off and taking your seat back beside lia and leah. "you didn't deny it." steph teased with a wink, prompting several of the other girls to try and wedge their way into whatever the two of you had been discussing, you waving them all off refusing to continue the conversation.

though as you tucked your knees into your chest your phone vibrated and you glanced down seeing kyra had sent you a series of snapchats. you turned your body a little more for privacy and opened them, smiling as you clicked through the various selfies.

the last one your finger hovered over to click out of, kyra up close to the camera with her lips pursed into a duck faced pout, captioning it 'smooches for pooches' and telling you to give calvin a kiss for her.

but unbeknownst to your best friend, the only person you wished you could give a kiss was her.

four. the world cup had all but flown by, weeks felt like hours and with every match played your emotions became all the more heightened. you were lucky enough to get your starting debut in the game against canada, having been utilized as a super sub in every other game.

once you were informed the first person you sought out to tell was your best friend, who'd started most games and you knew would understand the electric combination of excitement and nerves wracking your body.

"i'm starting tomorrow!" you burst through the door of your shared room, making kyra jump from where she'd been previously laid in bed doom scrolling. your best friend let out an excited squeal, jumping to her feet and launching herself at you.

"ow! dickhead." you laughed and shoved her as she landed on top of you, sending the two of you tumbling to the ground, a tangled mess of limbs. "see! i told you! i toldddd you!" the brunette sang out with a grin, grabbing your face and kissing your cheek with a loud mwah, and you were aware of the blush you felt creeping up your neck, wishing nothing more than for her to kiss you like that but not on the cheek.

"i'm so proud of you squish." the girl grinned, the two of you standing before she quite literally tackled you onto the bed, beaming down at you as you rolled your eyes at the nickname. "god don't call me that." you groaned, the midfielder only squishing your cheeks together aggressively with her hands making you squirm and push her away.

"hey kid, breathe." caitlin chuckled behind you, squeezing your shoulders as you tapped your foot anxiously in the tunnel, peering out to the thundering screams of the pitch which awaited you.

"you've earned this, go and show the world why!" stephs hand came to rest on your cheek where she stood in front of you, captains armband sitting proudly on her bicep as you nodded, sending her an appreciative smile.

your best friend watched from toward the back of the line up, the pining look after you not lost on her other best friend whom you were also quite close with, the blondes eyes narrowing as a smile curled on her lips.

"i think that if she scores tonight you need to reward her by telling her how you really feel." charlie leant forward and whispered in kyra's ear, causing the girl to turn around and shoot her a glare, mumbling for her to shut up before facing forward again.

unlike the match prior the team kicked off with a flying start, hayley getting you all on the score sheet early on much to the teams collective relief, everyone feeling the pressure of two prior lackluster performances looming over them.

by the time the clock wound down into injury time you were three goals up and absoloutely flying. you hadn't expected to play the entire match, tony had given you the heads up you'd likely be subbed off not long after half time for some fresh legs.

but here you were entering the 100th minute, legs still pounding the pitch as you trailed after hayley, flanked by ellie on your left and kyra on your right as they passed between them as you moved into position on the other side of the box.

kyra's head popped up for a moment and her eyes caught yours, you sent her a grin expecting her to cross it over to charlie who was right by the post, but she sent you a nod and suddenly the ball was sailing toward you as a sea of red uniforms came charging in.

you jumped suddenly realising that if you didn't the ball would be easily clipped out of play by a defender. you went in blind as two canadians pressed into either side of you, then suddenly as your eyes squeezed closed and you felt someone crash into your midsection, something came bouncing off your forehead moments before you slumped down to the ground.

any pain you felt from the harsh tackle was immediately wiped away as the stadium errupted and bodies piled on top of you as the final whistle sounded to end the game.

you were drowned in kisses and hugs and slung over shoulders and passed from team mate to team mate, celebrating your debut goal as you couldn't wipe the shit eating grin off your face.

"look! see! you're a little fucking rocket." steph beamed, grabbing you by the shoulders and turning your body, pointing up to the big screen where your goal was replayed, your captain shaking you with an excited cheer, kissing your cheek before running off.

you watched the goal replay as a sense of pride unlike something you'd ever known began to creep through your body, drowning out the deafening cheers and chants of the crowd as you finally felt like you belonged here.

though the moment was cut short as a body crashed into you, sending you tumbling to the ground as your best friend hovered over you. "you fucking did it! you scored! you played the full game and you pulled out a banger in the last minute!" kyra screamed at the top of her lungs, tilting her head back as she sat on top of you and cheering as loud as she could up toward the open sky making you laugh.

"wouldn't have happened without your assist!" you smacked her chest as you sat up, kyra shuffling off of you as the two of you sat side by side on the pitch, her head falling to your shoulder as you both soaked it all in for a moment.

you felt a warm hand slip into yours, fingers intertwining and gently squeezing as kyra brought your hand up to her mouth, kissing it and sending you a smile so soft you could have melted into the grass beneath you.

and again you both felt the world slip away as your eyes remained locked, the two of you seemingly caught in a trance as without realizing you both began to lean in slightly, kyra's eyes dropping down to your lips before flickering back up, left eyebrow every so slightly raised as if asking permission for something.

however you were both brought swiftly back to reality as charlie suddenly launched herself on top of the two of you with a squeal, arms slung around your necks as both yours and kyras cheeks burnt red, both avoiding one anothers gaze as if it would turn one another to stone.

five. ever since the almost kiss after the canada game and the crushing semi final elimination, things with you and kyra for the first time ever had felt strained, awkward, different.

decompressing after a whirlwind world cup you threw yourself with pre season and a week away with your arsenal national teammates, you and kyra had hardly spoken bar a few painfully awkward text conversations.

you were both aware of how uncomfortable things had become, and of course you both knew why and wanted to speak about it, but neither of you realised the other was feeling the same. and for fear of rejection or losing your friendship all together, you both suffered through the rough patch silently.

but then, everything changed the day that kyra's signing was announced.

seeing it pop up on your social media's you found yourself overcome with waves of differing emotions. you were angry she'd not told you, sad that she hadn't felt like it was something she could have told you, over the moon that once again you'd finally be playing alongside one another at a club level, and absolutely terrified at the thought of seeing her again in person.

turns out your chance came quite soon, kyra arriving to colney for her first training session with the team meant she'd called you the night before. she'd apologised over and over for not telling you, explaining she was doing her best to keep it as under wraps as she could before it was announced given it was such a last minute buy and transfer.

this had then snowballed into the two of you spending three and a half hours on the phone together, catching up on everything and anything from the past month you'd not actually spoken about, things finally starting to feel a little more normal again.

"you nervous to see your little girlfriend squish?" caitlin teased quietly as she took her seat beside you at breakfast, causing you to send her a firm glare, ignoring her words. "girlfriend?" katie had then chimed in, a lot louder than your australian team mate as your eyes widened and you smacked a hand over her mouth.

"do you have any other volume than fucking loud mccabe?" you scowled, removing your hand and shoveling a mouthful of fruit into your mouth.

"well clearly someone pissed in your cereal this morning." the irishwoman clipped, not taking the teasing any further as steph arrived and sent both women beside you a firm look, having overheard their previous words.

"hey, you okay?" the older girl kicked you softly causing you to look up and send her a nod, gaze dropping back to your tray as you picked at your breakfast.

"girls!" you all glanced up at jonas's voice, your breakfast suddenly caught in your throat at the sight of the tanned midfielder standing beside him with a nervous smile as jonas introduced her properly.

seeing the clearly overwhelmed look twinkle in her eyes, masked to almost everyone but you, you grabbed your tray and quickly stood to your feet. abandoning your breakfast you were quickly by her side, squeezing her hip reassuringly and grabbing her hand, pulling her with you to start introducing her to all of the girls.

“do you think they’ll ever confess that they’re in love with one another?” caitlin quietly murmured to steph who smiled, seeing the obvious glances of longing you and kyra would bathe one another with when you assumed the other wasn’t looking, and the way your gaze’s would quickly flick down to the others lips as you spoke, clearly distracted with the turmoil of your hidden affections for one another.

“yeah you know I do, but when they’re ready.”

one.

things finally felt normal between you and your best friend again, well as normal as it could be.

everyday you’d find you had to catch yourself, getting a little too close with the tanned midfielder.

a hug perhaps lingering a few moments too long, hands grazing skin as the two of you brushed up against one another in training, causing you both to become flustered and overwhelmed and yet somehow you both failed to notice the others obvious pining.

you both felt the tension between you two growing, but determined not to form any cracks in your once again rock solid friendship you refused to acknowledge them, pushing your feelings deep deep down and ignoring them as best as you could.

until one day, everything bubbled over.

it was the window of international break, so with over half your team mates scattered across the globe with national team commitments you and kyra found yourself with a lot more uninterrupted time together.

the two of you had done a lower body workout together earlier in the day under the watchful eyes of kim and jen, steph and caitlin normally your assigned babysitters away on a weekend getaway in spain together for some much needed r+r.

finishing up the two of you were left to your own devices, kim and jen satisfied that with your energy levels seemingly at bay you and kyra could be left alone in the gym for awhile before you’d all link back up later for some drills.

“i bet you i can hang upside down on this for five whole minutes!” kyra challenged as the two of you messed around with the gymnastics ropes, swinging around like monkeys as kyra had control of the gym speakers, your favourite band blasting around you.

“no way. you’ll break your neck if you fall!” you warned as the girl simply sent you a cheeky grin and shifted her position so she could get her legs up and into the hoops she’d been hanging off.

“ky you could seriously hurt yourself.” you warned again as she waved you off and continued on with her task, stubborn nature kicking in as you sighed in defeat and moved in closer, hoping to be able to catch her if she fell.

“okay start timing me!” the girl ordered, pulling herself up as you rolled your eyes but tapped onto the timer of your apple watch as she dropped her body, now hanging upside down with her feet through the hoops.

“see! told you, piece of cake mate.” kyra beamed beckoning you closer as you shook your head at her, the two of you basically eye to eye given how high she was on the ropes. “i feel like spider man this is so cool.” the brunette giggled, face starting to go red as the blood rushed to her head.

“you wish.” you rolled your eyes playfully, moving a stray hair out of her face as a comfortable silence settled between the two of you, eyes roaming one another’s faces silently.

“you could be my gwen stacey.” kyra smiled though much softer this time, her hands reaching out for you as you grabbed them, fingers intertwining, breath hitching as she tugged you closer, the two of you so close that if you even turned your head slightly your nose would bump hers.

and just like all those weeks ago everything seemed to slow, the guitar riff currently booming around the gym ceasing to a quiet hum as you found yourself completely lost in the soft pools of hazel brown which stared at you, a subtle longing drawing you in closer.

kyra’s breath hitched slightly as your hands came to gently clasp her cheeks, your touch warm and comforting and familiar. your eyes flickered up to her lips as she ever so slightly nodded, her body screaming out for the exact same thing yours was.

ever so slowly, agonisingly so for kyra, you leaned in that little bit further until finally, finally, your lips met hers.

her lips felt soft, and warm and your stomach did a backflip as they moved against your own, her mouth slotting perfectly with yours as fireworks punched their way around your insides, the gentle touch of your best friend setting your hairs on end, goosebumps rippling your tanned skin.

“kyra! jesus christ get the hell down from there you’re gonna break your neck!” you jumped away from her as the sound of your captains voice rang sternly through the gym.

caught off guard kyra let out a squeal as her feet unhooked, sending her tumbling down on top of you, the two of you crashing down to the ground with a loud thud and a shared groan.

but as the scottish woman ripped into the two of you angrily your eyes still found kyra’s, lips curling into a soft smile and cheeks glowing bright red as you slipped your hand into hers, squeezing softly as kyra reciprocated your shy smile.

because to the two of you in that moment, nothing else mattered.

[a-babe-without-a-name]

Sister Lovers, Water Brothers

Chapter 1: The Champion

Masterlist

Steve wasn't happy with the way Munson was treating one of his kids. So unhappy in fact, that he forces himself into their club leader's van to see what he's getting up to with Chrissy Cunningham, and maybe it's a good thing he's so paranoid because it might just save her life.

Or, the one where Chrissy doesn't die in the Munson trailer, and, despite the world-ending, the king(former) and queen(current) of Hawkins High cannot take their eyes off Eddie Munson

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

A.N. I co-wrote this with my roommate! We are going insane, it's gonna be along one so if you want to read on AO3 the link is below, just like and then head over :)

Read on A03

Greta, or Ms. G for those faint of heart, was running behind as expected.

Eddie was waiting for her outside the cafeteria, but the drama teacher was notorious for running late at almost any given moment. He didn’t mind waiting for Greta to finish up her last class to let him on stage, mostly for the fact she let them use the stage for Hellfire, but also hers one was one the few classes he’s managed to pass with an A.

“Don’t,” she emphasized her warning with a wrinkled finger, “touch the curtains. Any of the ropes for that matter. The trusses and the legs are all weighted and if you mess with them they could fall.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the boys keep their hands to themselves.”

“I know, I trust you all, I just don’t want anyone getting hurt,” She waved him off and led him on stage, where she’d already cleared any of the theater’s work off to the sides. Pointing out a few for things not to touch and unlocking the lighting box.

He was not expecting, once she left him alone, for the cafeteria doors to bang back open only minutes later and for Steve fucking Harrington to clumsily push through the center of the curtains. As they fell back in place, he saw a glimpse of a girl lingering outside. What would the king be without a fan club?

“Don’t-” Eddie frantically reached up to stop him from fumbling with the fabric, trying to pull it closed behind him, but it was already too late. They both looked at each other waiting for the other to speak.

“Uhm, it's Eddie, right? Munson?”

Panicking at the sudden intrusion into his Hellfire set up he dipped into a half hearted bow, hands flourishing as they tended to when he was worked up, “‘Tis I.”

“I’m Steve.”

“Yeah I’ve got that much,” Eddie droned, when he didn’t say anything beyond introducing himself. “What are you doing here, man?”

“I wanted to talk to you…” Harrington ran a hand through his hair. His eyes bounced around the room, looking anywhere but Eddie, almost like he was nervous. “About Sinclair.”

“Lucas?”

“Yeah, look man, Dustin told me about the whole trying to find a sub for tonight but you gotta cancel, or at least let the rest of them make it too his game.”

“You want me to cancel?” Eddie laughed cruelly, arms crossing over his chest and pulling into himself only to push up into Harrington's personal space.

“For Lucas’s game, yes.”

“I’ve been working on this campaign for months! I’m not letting it go unfinished over spring break because Sinclair is a traitor!”

“So you know how it feels then?” Steve demanded, stepping back out of Eddie’s face to give the stance full effect as he leaned forward, hand on his hip, and glared with a force that could knock a weaker man down.

“What?” Eddie breathed, refusing to be that weaker man.

“He’s been practicing all year for this!” He shouted, bull dozing over Eddie's confusion, before cutting himself off. Taking a step back, he looked down at his shoes and mumbled “I wasn’t supposed to yell.” He let out a controlled breath then restarted, calmer. “ He’s been practicing all year. I helped him all summer get ready for tryouts. This is something he cares about and you are all mad at him because a schedule he did not make conflicts with your game,” Steve hissed out, one of his hands off his hip so he can wave a pointed finger in Eddie’s face.

“Well… he was supposed to be one of us, and now he spends half his time with douchebags that push his friends into lockers, and call us freaks!” Eddie pushed back, moving in tighter as he got louder.

“One of you, one of them, what does it matter?” Steve asked almost sadly, “He’s supposed to be your friend. He’s a kid, who doesn’t want to be treated like one of the freaks and wants to enjoy the game he plays with his friends, and you’re the only thing stopping him from having both. You, Eddie Munson,” Steve declares, the finger now solidly on Eddie’s chest a burning point of contact, “hater of conformity are forcing one of yours to… conform.” he finished lamely.

Eddie opened his mouth to argue that if Lucas just dropped the whole sports thing, they wouldn’t be having this problem, but Steve cut him off. “You think he’s going to want to keep playing with you if you keep treating him like this? It’s the big game, and you all are shitty friends for not showing up, I hope you know that.”

“It’s my last campaign,” Eddie said softly, feeling the fight go out of him.

“I hope no one shows up for you then, I’ll be cheering on Lucas.” Harrington shook his head and shot one last disapproving glance back at Eddie before turning on his heel and disappearing back around the curtain.

Through it Eddie could still hear Steve arguing with the girl that had been trailing after him.

“That was a little mean wasn’t it.” That must be the girl.

“He’s bullying Lucas!”

“You were a bully t-”

“Yeah thanks, Robin, I know but I’m not going to let him-”

“Yeah, yeah you gotta defend your kids.”

“They aren’t my kids I just-”

“They are too.”

“Are not.” “Are too.” They traded back and forth as they must have made their way up the aisle, and out of ear shot. Stumbling back and leaning on the set pushed to the edges of the stage, Eddie stood, still in shock with hands clasped over his mouth as he tried to process what had just happened.

The stage lights they used to during Hellfire meetings were off, leaving the fluorescent work lights glaring down on him. Under the acrid yellow, Eddie felt overexposed, even as he tucked himself smaller into the throne he commandeered from Mrs. Pearson’s last production– some Shakespeare thing he hadn’t bothered to go see. 

The problem was, Eddie knew Harrington was kinda right. He was forcing Sinclair to choose between basketball and Hellfire, and there wasn’t really opting out of games for organized sports. He also felt stupid for not even thinking about seeing Lucas’s game, he’d just let the other boys bitch about him, probably not making it off the bench. When the hell had he become such a champion for cliques?

He sat there for god knows how long debating whether or not he could handle admitting Steve Harrington might have known better than him. He’d come to accept at some point in the last year that Steve might be an alright babysitter, but this… he didn’t know how to reconcile the image of Harrington from his glory days and this strange, caring, and awkward figure before him.

By the time the rest of Hellfire arrived, his legs were cramping from being curled in a ball, his ass was numb, nothing was set up, and the work lights were still on. He had made his decision.

“What the hell, Eddie?” Gareth asked, as their fearless DM sprung out of his throne, tripping and catching himself in a dance against gravity, before finishing with a sigh and a flourish.

“Gentleman, there will be no hellfire today,” Eddie announced solemnly, and already anticipating the club members' cries of despair kept talking over them. “Another great adventure awaits… in the gymnasium.”

“We’re going to the game?” Dustin asked as he arrived with Mike and another child wearing an American flag as a cape.

“Yes,” Eddie declared, a smug smile spreading across his face. “We’re going to support Sinclair.”

“My loser brother?” the child sneered. 

“Who is she?” Gareth asked.

“Erica,” She answered for herself at the same time Mike and Eddie said “Lucas’s sister.”

“And yes,” Eddie continued, “Hellfire, and Lady Sinclair apparently, will be attending the game in support of our fellow adventurer.”

“But he never even makes it off the bench,” Mike whined, “and we brought a replacement, let's just finish the campaign.” Eddie, sick of all the talking, stepped up onto the table smoothly and stalked across to the gathering of nerds.

“Good luck playing without  a dungeon master,” he shrugged, hopping off the other end, and pushing past the bickering crowd back into the hallway and out towards the gym. 

He didn't make it very far before the rest of them were trailing after him, some content to go along with his scheming, others, namely Wheeler, still complaining about wanting to play all the way there.

Once they made it inside the crowded gym, Eddie could barely spot Steve in the sea of green and yellow, but Steve saw him right away. 

The whole club came in together after the clock had been started and grabbed the closest seat they could find. Over the rising din of the crowd and the game picking up, Steve raised a hand to wave in recognition. Eddie ducked his head and nodded back subtly, hoping none of the guys noticed.

*

The final buzzer went off and the crowd erupted as the team picked up Lucas, lifting him above their heads to accept the cheers for his score. The band picked up the fight song, loud and fast, and eventually everyone was clapping along. 

When the celebration died down the energy carried on as everyone picked up their own conversations, recounting the game and the winning basket as they rushed for the exits.

On his way to the locker rooms, Dustin managed to snag Lucas by the arm and pulled him into a hug even as he jumped around, babbling about how well he did. Eddie slapped him on the back, and told him it was a good game that it was nice to see him play.

“I didn’t think you guys would be here,” he said with a bit of awe, the adrenaline still running through him making everything more fantastical, “What about Hellfire?”

“We decided to wait for you,” Eddie shrugged, before moving out of the way to let the other members greet their star player; even Mike offered him a slap on the shoulder, mimicking their DM, and managed to not complain about postponing the game.

Eventually, the gathered crowd filtered outside, and began to dissipate as they piled into cars and made their way home. Groups of players and their friends lingered in the pools of light along the sides of the gym, waiting for the remainder of the team to make it outside.

The players and cheerleaders seemed to be debating who would be meeting up later, and who would be driving, while Steve tried to convince the gaggle of children that had ambushed him to find their own rides home.

“Get Nancy to take you home,” Steve waved toward Mike, already heading to join his sister.

“He had to be home five minutes ago,” Dustin rolled his eyes, like Steve should have all of their bedtimes memorized. “They don’t have time to drop me off, besides, looks like you’ve lost your date already.” The kid sounded almost scolding as he pointed out Steve’s failure to bring a girl home.

“She had her own ride, plus, I’m waiting for Robin,” He told Dustin for the third time, “Wasn’t your mom going to pick you up from dungeons and dipshits anyway?”

“Yeah, but you can just-”

“No! I told you, Robin has to change and deal with band stuff, so just go meet your… mom.” Steve’s voice trailed off as he watched Eddie wander away from the rest of his club, and gesture at someone coming out of the locker rooms, before turning back into the school. 

A minute later, Chrissy Cunningham carefully made her way toward the far corner of the parking lot. Whenever the basketball team let out another loud whoop, she looked back nervously and pushed further from the few lights in the parking lot. Steve watched her path, trying to convince himself that she wasn’t headed for the black van parked by itself. Today might have been the first time he’d actually spoken to Eddie, but everyone knew that van. Sure there were the typical rumors about who to talk to for weed, where to find him, but recently Steve had gotten used to Eddie tearing out of the parking lot as Steve arrived to pick the kids up from Hellfire. Every time it made him wonder how Eddie wasn’t already deaf, from how loud his music was blasting even in the parking lot.

“Steve! Steve!” Dustin was screeching at him trying to get his attention, but he shoved past the kid, close on Chrissy’s trail. 

The next time she looked back, checking to make sure no one near the gym had noticed her slip away, she did a double take as Steve came up next to her, just as she rounded the passenger side of the van.

“Hey Chrissy,” he greeted with faux casualty. “Crazy game right?” he laughed, letting her put space between them as she pulled her sweater closer around her, clearly off put. “You did a great job out there, you know, cheering everyone on.”

“Oh, uh, thanks Steve,” Chrissy shifted awkwardly, he hadn’t ever really spoken to her maybe in passing once or twice, but he had never approached her like this, “Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah, of course, Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Steve nodded, trailing off, “Huge night for the Tigers…uh Chrissy, by the way, where are you going?”

The question took Chrissy off guard, Steve seemed like a guy to mind his own business, this felt weird.

“Yeah, huge night…” She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to avoid the question. 

“Yep…” He looked down at her awkwardly, “So, where ya going?”

“Why do you care?” Chrissy snapped, curling a lip at him.

“I don’t know, I mean,” Steve shrugged, heaving a sarcastic sigh, “Your boyfriend just won what was probably the best game of his career, and you're here, waiting like a puppy outside Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson’s van.”

“What’s your damage, man?” Chrissy flinched, becoming overly defensive “I barely fucking know you, didn’t you graduate, like, last year? Leave me alone?”

“Chrissy listen, I really don’t think-”

“And I really don’t care what you think!” Chrissy half yelled, she ducked her head, glancing past Steve towards the crowds by the school, anxious about drawing attention.

“Please Chrissy I-” Steve tried to plead, 

“Hey!” Chrissy’s view of Steve was obscured when Eddie reached the van, stepping between them, “She said fuck off,”

“Well,” Steve shrugged, taking a step back, “That’s not exactly what she said,”

“Jesus H. Christ Harrington, what is this fucking boner you have over me all of the sudden,” Eddie shook his head in disbelief, “Can you go back to ignoring my existence for like two seconds?”

Eddie turned, making a point to slam his shoulder into Steve as he did so, and opened the car door for Chrissy. She thanked him with a small nod and climbed into the passenger seat, fumbling awkwardly with the usually unused seatbelt.

Eddie left Steve fuming at the side of the van as he made his way to the driver’s side. He hopped into the seat, jamming the keys into the ignition and trying to stifle his irritation in front of Chrissy, worried about scaring her off. 

Before he could put the van into reverse, the side door slid open with a bang.

“Nope!” Steve announced, climbing into the back and sliding the door closed behind him, “I’m coming with.”

“Like hell,” Eddie whipped around, genuinely too stunned at Steve’s brashness to react physically, “Get the fuck out.”

“No, no way, I don’t trust you!” Steve jabbed a finger at Eddie, crouching between the two front seats, “If you can’t do whatever it is you plan to with me around, probably shouldn't be doing it.”

“This is trespassing,” Eddie offered, still caught off guard, “I could have you arrested.”

“Yeah, okay” Steve reached under Eddie’s seat, snatching up a ziplock bag of weed, “I’m sure the cops would love digging through your van.”

Eddie huffed, quirking his jaw to the side in irritation as he gave in.

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie turned to Chrissy, soothing out the crease in his forehead, “If you want to do this another night…”

“No!” Chrissy interjected too enthusiastically, but she really felt like if she spent tonight sober she’d die, “I mean, it’s fine…. I really need this..” 

Steve raised an eyebrow, at Chrissy, suddenly unsure of what he stepped into. 

Eddie chewed his lip, he could see the desperation on Chrissy’s face. Fuck Harrington, Chrissy trusted him, he said he’d help her with this.

“Fuck it,” Eddie turned around and threw the van into reverse, “Buckle up Harrington.”

Chrissy sat back in the front seat, trying to stay out of view of the crowds in the parking lot. Eddie's reckless driving didn’t help keep eyes away from her as the Van sped through the parking lot, narrowly missing groups of highschoolers. When they were finally out of the post game traffic and away from the school, Chrissy let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She allowed herself to relax for a moment, forgetting about the uninvited guest in the back seat as she looked around Eddie's van. It  was…dirty, but not gross, and she could tell that he had swept up the loose items he usually kept in the passenger seat into a lidless shoe box on the floor by her feet. A pair of old concert ticket stubs were pinned in the visor above her head. A chain hung from the rear view mirror, a heavy oval locket hung at the bottom, and a few hair ties were wrapped around the mirror as well.

Chrissy glanced over at Eddie, one wrist draped over the steering wheel the other arm leaning against the open window. The parts of his hair closest to the side of his face whipped around in the wind, glancing off his cheek as he nodded his head along to the music, Chrissy wondered what he’d look like with his hair pulled back.

Catching herself staring at him, she jerked her head away choosing to instead look at herself in the side mirror. She looked tired, not from cheering at the game or classes all day, but in a way that made her look close to death. Movement on her left pulled her attention away from her own grim reflection. Eddie leaned over, ejecting the tape in his radio. He opened up the glove box in front of Chrissy, tossing the tape in with the others. 

“I’m sick of that album,” Eddie leaned back to his side of the car, he nodded towards the tapes in his glove box, “See if there’s anything you might like in there.”

Chriss hesitated for a moment before Eddie nodded at her again, encouraging her to look through them. She leaned forward, carefully sorting through the tapes, flipping them over and reading the names. Most of them were unrecognizable to her, the type of stuff Jason would call devil music. One stuck out to her though, the cover was unfamiliar, but she recognized the name. 

She put the tape in and turned the volume down, unsure of what this would actually sound like. The radio whirred for a moment before the sound of guitar on the first song began to play. 

“This is a good one,” Eddie laughed lightly, taking the case from her and looking at it, “This is Queen’s first album actually, their sound has changed alot since then. You listen to them alot?”

“I wouldn’t say… a lot,” Chrissy admitted, fidgeting with her necklace, “I used to listen to them more in middle school, but I haven't heard this one before. I think I like it though.”

“Yeah, it’s a good one.” Eddie agreed, “It’s been a while since I had it in, I’ll probably keep it on for a while…”

His words trailed off as he listened to the music. He nodded along to the beat, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Oh, you did really well at the game, by the way.” Eddie piped up, glancing over at her. 

“You were at the game?” Chrissy was surprised he came and more surprised she hadn’t noticed him there.

“Yeah, of course,” Eddie threw a pointed glance over his shoulder at Steve, turning sarcastic, “Tiger’s big game, wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

“I’m glad I went. Really!” Eddie offered up, worried the bite meant for Steve was coming off like he meant it for Chrissy, “You do that cheer thing, like, really well.”

“Thank you,” She liked that he seemed to appreciate her cheering, even if the rest of the school didn’t sometimes, “I’m glad you were able to make it to the game.”

“Yeah, of course.” Eddie nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek, “You’ll have to let me know what other things you cheer at, it was super cool, you looked great…”

“Oh, so you came to the game just to watch the cheerleaders?” Steve scoffed, “and now what you’re stealing Jason’s girl-”

Chrissy jumped, surprised at Steve’s sudden interjection. When she turned around to look at him, he was leaning forward in the tiny fold-down seat in the back of the van.

“Woah, woah!” Eddie laughed in disbelief, “First of all, you’re the one that coerced me into going to the game-”

“Cause you were being an ass to Lucas,” Steve sneered, but Eddie argued over him. 

“And you might think that women are property, Harrington, but not all of us only talk to girls who’s pants-”

“Hey!”

“Thought, it’s not like you’ve been getting any recently anyway, if Henderson knows his shit,” Eddie half regretted saying it, only for the fact he was betraying Dustin's trust, but the way it made Steve turn a deep shade of red, proving the statement true, was worth it. 

Chrissy watched the two bicker for a moment, confused as to whatever relationship they had. She assumed they had never had an interaction in their lives, but it seemed like they knew more about each other than just distant school peers. She turned away, deciding to be more interested in whatever was outside 

The town of Hawkins whipped by the open window, suburban houses giving way to dense forests as they got closer and closer to Forest Hills. The town she spent most of her life in felt unfamiliar tonight, darker and colder than it should on a night in March. Then the scenery began to slow down, unblurring until everything was still as the van rolled to a stop.

Chrissy waited a beat and then, realizing the boy's argument had petered out, looked forward. Confused to see the straight road stretched out in front of them, no stop sign like she expected.

“What are we-” Chrissy began, stopping when she realized Eddie was no longer on the driver’s seat, “Eddie?” 

She turned around in her seat, Steve also missing from where he just was.  She unbuckled her seat belt, kneeling in the seat to look further into the back of the van.

“Eddie?” She waited a moment, “Steve?”

Nothing, just the gentle rumble of the idling van. 

Chrissy opened the door, climbed out onto the street, and looking around. The road was empty, no sign of the boys she had just been in the car with less than a minute ago. She called for them again, feeling panic rise in her chest as she took a few hesitant steps in one direction and then the other. She could see the sign for the trailer park where Eddie lived up ahead, not far from where they stopped. She tugged the sleeves of her jacket into her palms, fidgeting with the fabric, unsure of what was happening but figured heading towards where people might be was a good idea. She was halfway towards the sign when an odd whirring started to ring out around her. Chrissy stopped standing still and tried to figure out where the sound was coming from. She turned to see that the van was gone and in the place where it had been she could make out the silhouette of someone sitting at a table. Chrissy took a few steps towards the figure.

“Hello?” Chrissy called out.

Something was wrong. This was wrong.

She walked closer, unsure of what else to do. The whirring got louder as she approached, she began to recognize the figure sitting at the table facing away from her. 

“Mom?” Chrissy asked, confused as to why her mom was set up and sewing in the middle of Kerley at 10:30 at night. 

“Just loosening this up for you sweetheart,”  It was her mothers voice, but something was wrong. It didn't sound like her at all, “You’re going to look…absolutely beautiful.”

Chrissy took a step closer, reaching out to put a hand on her moms shoulder when her mom turned around in her chair. Except it wasn’t her mom at all, it was a horrible and distorted version of her mom. Chrissy screamed at the sight of her mothers glazed over eyes and rotting smile. 

She turned to run down the street, towards the trailer park and away from whatever this was. When she turned, though, she was no longer on Kerley in the middle of the night, instead she was in her own home. She was on the 2nd floor landing, right outside her own open bedroom door. She began to pant, her heart beating faster than it ever had as she felt the presence of something bad behind her. Coming for her. Calling for her.

Chrissy took off, sprinting down her stairs, taking them two at a time as she ran from whatever it was that was after her. She nearly tripped as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She looked around, hoping to see anything that felt right. Down the hall Chrissy could see her father sitting in his usual chair in the family room, the glow of the tv lighting up the room around him.

“Dad!” She shouted out, running to him like she was a little girl again., “Dad?”

When she reached him though, like her mom it wasn’t him. He turned in his chair to look up at his daughter, but his eyes and mouth were sewn tightly shut. Chrissy screamed jumping back as he struggled to speak, thrashing in his seat. Chrissy didn’t know what else to do but to run, she headed towards the front door. She couldn't help but to stop and gag when she reached the large dining room of her house. The long table that was rarely used was covered in plates and platters full of  slimy rotting food covered in thousands of spiders. Chrissy choked back the bile in her throat and sprinted past. She could still feel the presence of whatever was hunting her not far behind. 

She reached the front doors with a bang as she fell into them. Chrissy wasted no time in throwing open  both doors. Her heart sank at the sight of heavy boards crossing in front of the exit. Blocking her only way out 

“No… no!” She screamed, slamming her shoulder into the wood, she screamed as loud as she possibly could, “Help! Please somebody help!

She could hear the pounding of  footfalls approaching her. She continued to slam into the door, watching behind her as a tall figure stepped into the archway of the main hall. Slowly her struggle came to an end as a rough voice called out to her.

The almost human figure in front of her was grotesque. Tall and distorted with glazed over eyes and thick tendrils running all over its body like roots. With the light reflecting off its wet skin Chrissy could see the roots move over his body, like a separate alive entity. Its feet squelched into the hardwood with each heavy step.  It approached her slowly as she whimpered against the wood, pressing herself as far back into it as she could praying to a god she had never believed in to save her.

“Don’t cry, Chrissy.” It spoke, coming closer and closer. She couldn’t respond with anything aside from more fearful cries.

“It’s time for your suffering…” It was right in front of her now, close enough she could smell the earthy wet mildew scent radiating from its body. Slowly it raised a hand, its horrifyingly long fingers stretching out to hover over Chrissy’s face, “to end.”

 Chrissy whimpered, doing her best to prepare herself for whatever hell she was about to enter. She did what she had done years ago when she pictured her own death, she dragged the good stuff to the front of her brain. She had always known that whenever she died, however she died, whether she wished it upon herself or not, she’d want the good things to be the last things she thought of. 

She thought of her dad, of him helping her practice cheers and taking her out for ice cream afterwards. She thought of her brother, who had made it a point one summer to have breakfast ready every morning for Chrissy when she came down from her bedroom before going to her summer job and driving him to baseball camp. She thought of her friends on the cheer team, how much she loved being an athlete with them. She thought of Jason, how nervous he was to ask her to homecoming freshman year with a bouquet of flowers that made him sneeze in the middle of asking her. She even thought of Eddie today, the way he was the first person her age that actually noticed her in months. How he did his best to make her laugh earlier that very day. Her last day.

Chrissy could swear she could even hear him saying her name… calling her name. And she could hear a song she would never be able to name, but was sure she listened to as a kid with her father.

“Once I believed in everyone.” She could hear it faintly, far away accompanied by the muted strum of a guitar and then the beat of a drum as the voice sang on, “Everyone and anyone can see.”

She recognizes the voice, understanding now that it was the Queen tape Eddie had let her put in his radio.

“Oh, oooh, the night comes down,” Chrissy felt the world fall away, thinking about the unknown feeling of dying as she tipped back and fell into the music… 

*

In the rearview mirror, Eddie looked back to see Steve pouting down at his clenched hands. He was embarrassed, but took the time to calm himself and spoke softer, but still aggravated,

“Look man, I don’t trust you. Dustin might think you’re hot shit, but I’m not about to trust a drug dealer that hangs out with a bunch of kids, and makes off with the queen bee in dark parking lots.” Steve gestured at Chrissy, where she was keeping out of their admittedly petty argument. “What are you two up to anyway? You still haven’t answered me.”

“None of your business,” Eddie half-heartedly threw back, pulling his gaze in front of the road to look over at Chrissy. She’d been scared enough earlier in the woods alone, so he was sure that she was uncomfortable with Harrington sticking his big head where it didn’t belong. In trying to stay out of the argument she’d crammed herself as close to the window as she physically could. 

“I really want to like you, Munson. I do!” Steve continued, frustrated and gesturing in a way that if they weren’t stuck in the van Eddie was sure it would have been accompanied by pacing. “The kids seem to trust you, even if it is just because you lead their little game club, but I don’t know, man, it’s like you want to look like a bad guy- with the leather and the chains, and the loud music. And what am I supposed to think?”

Eddie was only half listening to Steve’s rant, instead focused on Chrissy, who had gone eerily still.

“Harrington, shut up a second would you?” He said and reached for Chrissy’s shoulder. He was sure to telegraph the movement, but she didn’t jump like she had been all day. In fact, she didn’t react at all, even as he shook her gently.

“Don’t tell me to shut up, I’m trying to”

“Harrington!” He insisted, using his momentary shock to address Chrissy without Steve babbling, “Hey, Chrissy? You okay?”

“What? What’s wrong?” he questioned, trying to lean up between their seats, but Eddie's arm was still in the way.

“I don’t know man, maybe she’s passed out?”

“Chrissy? Chrissy you awake?” Steve tried, shaking the passenger's seat. “Did you give her something?” He accused when she again did not react.

“You got to her first? When would I have given her something?” Eddie asked, offended at the notion.

“I don’t know! Look, just-” Steve caught a glimpse of Chrissy’s eyes in the side mirror, they were rolled back in her head and almost looked like they were flickering. “Shit, pull over. Pull over!”

“What? What’s going on?” Eddie tried to get a better look but was forced to return both hands to the wheel as he stepped on the gas, getting them the final half block to his trailer and skidding into their gravel driveway. Not bothering to shut off the van, he unbuckled himself and leaned in front of Chrissy, pulling her away from where she was slumped in the door. “Chrissy! Chrissy wake up!” He tried shaking her more, but nothing was working.

“Shit, is she having a seizure?” Steve asked before deciding it didn’t matter what was happening but he had to do something. “Unbuckle her.” 

Eddie frantically jabbed the button until it released and she finally began to move. For a moment a brief wave of relief passed between them, but she still wasn’t awake. Her eyes continued to blink and twitch rapidly as her head tilted back and she began to hover over the seat.

“What the fuck?!What the fuck?!” Eddie shouted, hands outstretched wanting to help, but clueless and scared. 

As if suspended by invisible strings she lifted toward the cabin roof, the seat belt still tangled around her provided some resistance, but the thing lifting her was stronger. The light flickered wildly. Rather than shutting off the intensity and frequency seemed to build indefinitely heightening the chaos of the situation. Continuing to rise, Chrissy slid free of the seat belt, her head threatening to reach the ceiling as both boys frantically racked their brains for something helpful. Eddie was mostly trying to form words, make sense of the scene before him, and keep from screaming, but Steve knew better. He was used to seeing weird shit like this, and he thought he'd gotten pretty good at dealing with upside-down crap at this point. 

The problem was nothing was attacking Chrissy, she was just slowly hovering in the car and it would be peaceful if it weren’t for the aching feeling of dread filling the air. Steve collected himself enough to move his hand between the crown of her head and where she was now pressing into the car. Eddie moved to stop him, still unsure of what his intentions had been all night long, but when Chrissy pressed harder and harder into the van ceiling he relented. He just hoped Harrington didn’t get his hand crushed.

“The heat!” Steve shouted suddenly, waving wildly with his free hand for Eddie to move. "They don’t like the heat, turn it up!”

“What!? They!?” Eddie struggled to look past Chrissy floating between them, her shoulders now hunching to bring her closer against the roof.

“Don’t ask, just do it!” Steve pushed, unable to reach up and do it himself. From the driver seat, it was muscle memory to flip the heat and fans all the way up, as he did so often during the winter, but the motion suddenly felt foreign to Eddie. Hot air blasted him in the face even as it was contracted by the cool night air coming in through the open windows.

“What the hell is that going to do?” Eddie asked, figuring he wasn’t wasting time anymore as the both desperately grabbed Chrissy and tried to drag her back down. 

The voice on the radio continued to sing on, accompanied by drums and guitars, though it was undercut by the lights still buzzing and flashing rapidly and the now loud fans whirring over the van's engine. Chrissy pressed harder against Steve’s hand and bent so that her shoulders and back were pushing against the thin ceiling threatening to dent it outward. Both boys were yelling desperately, begging Chrissy to wake up, to give any sort of indication that she was still there. Everything is built higher and higher. It felt like any moment the van would give out with the pressure of it all. Steve winced as his fingers bent uncomfortably, and then it all came crashing down.

It was only a short fall, but Chrissy’s legs caught on the seat and slid awkwardly back to the floor as Steve and Eddie’s desperate pulling finally gave way, forcing her down into the seat.

Chrissy gasped as her back hit the seat, nearly knocking the wind out of her as she frantically looked around. She was back in Eddie’s van, parked in front of what she assumed was his home. Hot air blew on her face as she began to hyperventilate and cry. She realized that Eddie and Steve were also back with her. Eddie had a hand twisted in the front of her sweater, the other wrapped around her forearm and Steve had a heavy hand pushing down on her shoulder.

They sat like that for a beat, all of them shaking as Chrissy sobbed. Steve took his hand away, sitting back on his heels as his mind raced. Eddie removed the hand still clenched around the font of her clothes and dropped his grip on Chrissy’s arm. Without thinking, Chrissy snatched his hand back, still shaking as she held onto him.

Eddie remained a cord of tension. Though he returned the grip Chrissy had on his hand, the other went back on the steering wheel as if the car might take itself out of the park and try to crash them into his house. Steve honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it did. 

From behind his curtain of tangled hair Eddie started up a steady chant of “fuck fuck fuck, what the fuck man,” until he was turning around to scream at Steve, “What the fuck!”

“Shut up!” Chrissy cut them off, trying to take a deep breath, wiping away the tears with her free hand. The sensory overload that was his car finally got to Eddie. He shut off the engine, cutting off Freddie Mercury mid-lyric, killing the hot air still blasting from the vents and regretfully taking his hand away from Chrissy’s. The silence settled over them, as they tried to separately piece together what had just happened.

“That was normal right?” Eddie asked, unable to move, even to look away from the wheel. “That was a normal seizure, and nothing weird happened. You weren’t floating, and my wiring is just shit-”

“No man, I don’t think so,” Steve shook his head, trying to shake a cohesive thought together. He let out one “Shit!” punctuated by his hands punching into Eddie's chair, before searching for his bag in the dark, only to realize he’d left it in his own car.

“What is going on dude?” Eddie asked with a warning tone, looking to Chrissy for answers but she shook her head.

“I don’t know what that was. I- it’s happened before, hearing things, but that- Was I floating?” They both turn to Steve waiting for an explanation he didn’t feel like he had.

“Look,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I know some things, but I don’t know what that was. The floating is new, it always has to be something new.” He started to trail off, mostly talking to himself under his breath, “Give me the dogs again, I can hit the dogs or burn shit, or punch a Russian.”

“Harrington, It’s starting to sound like both of you are losing it,” Eddie observed, panic rising in his voice again.

“I’m not crazy! There’s just like…magic… in Hawkins,” He attempted to explain, ignoring Eddie’s bafflement. “Well it’s not magic, there’s this girl with superpowers but she lost them, and I just need my walkie, we’ve got to tell Henderson.”

“Henderson! The child?” Eddie screeched, making Chrissy flinch again, leaning closer against the door. “Sorry, sorry” he breathed, raising his hands and shrinking into himself, making himself smaller and giving her room. “I just- what’s Henderson got to do with Chrissy having a seizure?”

“I would also like to know,” Chrissy interjected.

“He’s the one that got me dragged into all of this. It started when Will Byers went missing. Remember with the fake body and stuff?” They both nodded, how could anyone forget? “But you said this happened before Chrissy?” He continued,” Seeing things?

She nodded shakily, “just the past few days, but it's…been getting worse. That’s why I was- Eddie was going to…” she trailed off, unable to meet their eyes.

“You were seeing things, and decided drugs would help?” Steve condescended.

“Fuck off, man,” Eddie bit, and pushed Steve over where he was squatting between their chairs, leaving him sprawled in the back of the van and offering Chrissy some space. “Who the hell are you to judge?” Properly scolded, Steve ducked his head and mumbled an apology, but Eddie had already refocused on Chrissy. “What have you been seeing?”

“I was hearing my mom mostly,” she admitted, “But there was this clock? In the woods behind the school, I saw a clock in a tree and spiders came out of it. But this time was different. I wasn’t just seeing, or hearing something that wasn’t there, I thought- it felt like I was in my own house, and I could see it all so clearly.”

“What about vines?” Steve rejoined the conversation, having righted himself, “Any sort of creatures, or particles? Like in the air?”

“No, nothing like that,” Chrissy shook her head, brow furrowing as she tried to recall details. In the moment she had been too terrified to notice anything that detailed, but she tried to explain anyway, “I was on the road, but it turned into… my house? It was like a nightmare, but it was so real.”

She paused for a moment trying to organize her thoughts before speaking, “And my parents were there, but it was wrong. Like, my mom wasn’t my mom and my dad’s face was…”

She choked back a sob thinking about the grotesque version of her parents, “And I was being followed by… Something else? It was shaped like a human, but it was more like an alien or something. It was so tall and it had these roots,” She turned to look at Steve, “I guess they could have been vines, they were all over its body and they were moving like they were alive. I couldn’t get out of my house, I was trapped there, even when I got to the front door it was, like, boarded up. And this thing it was… calling to me?”

She looked up at Eddie, both boys waited for her to continue, “It said that my suffering,” another sob caught in her throat, cutting her off, “my suffering would end… It was so awful. I… I can’t… I don’t…”

Eddie squeezed her hand as she tilted forward and tried to stop herself from crying, her other hand covering her mouth. Steve put a hand on her shoulder, trying to do anything to calm her down.

“That… I’m sorry, that could be something, but I have no idea what it could mean,” He took his hand away and rubbed his forehead as if he could get rid of the stress lines growing there. Then something must have come to him because he looked up at both of them with horror. “I forgot Robin.”

*

Steve’s car was the only one left in the lot. The lights on the outside of the school were still on, thankfully, but even the janitor had locked up and gone home.

Robin sat on the hood of the Beemer, playing a game of tic tac toe with herself in the dust, not caring what Steve would say, because he had left her at school! It was almost ten, and she didn’t have any quarters left for the pay phone, so she was stuck waiting, hoping that whoever stole her ride home would return him. 

Sooner or later she would probably have started the long walk home, trumpet case as her only self-defense, and brave the lecture from her mom for being out so late. Fortunately, a black van came careening into the parking lot, not one minute after she finished filling another grid with no winner in sight. When it came to a stop next to her, She caught sight of Eddie Munson in the driver's seat, before her traitorous best friend came tumbling out of the side door.

“Where the hell-” She started to yell, sliding down the hood and dropping to her feet.

“We’ve got a code red,” He interrupted, grabbing her by the shoulder as if trying to physically hold her gaze and force her to take him seriously. “At least I think we do?”

“And you left me alone?! In the parking lot! To what? Fight another hell beast with Munson?”

“Hey, Robin,” the aforementioned Munson waved unsurely, before skirting around the van to open the passenger side door and help Chrissy Cunningham down.

“Look, I didn’t mean to leave you I just- Eddie- Fuck.”

“Steve-o here ditched you because I looked ‘kinda creepy’ and couldn’t be trusted with Chrissy,” Eddie informed her, crossing his arms and looking between the two of them for their reaction.

“And it’s a good thing I did!” Steve threw his hands up, exasperated.

“What is happening?” Robin whispered to herself as the strange trio came together before her. Eddie and Steve were still unsure of each other, carefully watching each other, while Chrissy kept Eddie between her and Steve.

Robin let out a panicked sigh, “Okay, what are we dealing with? Cause I need to be home,” she pretended to think and glanced down at her wrist, “twenty minutes ago, so if we need to save the world again we better do it quickly.”

“Save the world?” Chrissy piped up, moving out of Eddie's shadow.

“Mostly our own asses,” Steve corrected, earning himself a slap on the arm. Robin rolled her eyes as Steve rubbed at his arm.

“That’s for abandoning me!” She reprimanded, then turned to Eddie and Chrissy. “This one’s useless, so tell me what happened, and quickly! I want to get out of this stupid parking lot, it’s giving me the creeps.” She gave a full body shiver to sell it.

The two of them did their best to summarize the strangest car ride of their lives, with only minor interjections from Steve, and Chrissy tried to explain the recent episodes she’d been having. Eddie’s half-panic dramatic reenactment of Chrissy floating inside the van was more amusing than helpful, but it got them all to smile, and it gave him a break from anxiously twisting his rings and pulling at his hair while Chrissy described the horror show that had taken place in her head.

The whole time, Chrissy remained pretty much glued to Eddie’s side, though it seemed like she was warming up to Robin. She pointedly ignored Steve.

“The man, monster, thing, he had his claws around my face, grabbing me, and then it was like he pushed me backward, and I fell back into my body after I heard the music- Eddie's tape was still playing and I could hear it right before I woke up.”

“So what, the monster is some guy this time?” Robin asked.

“I mean we fought literal caves once so a guy would-”

“He wasn’t just a guy,” Chrissy interjected before their bickering could escalate, “You mentioned vines earlier? He looked like he was covered in vines, or made of… veins, and really gross. Just, wet and almost decaying.” She curled in on herself at the recollection, and Eddie wiped at his arms as if shaking off bugs, and hopped closer to her. 

They stood there for a moment, unsure about what to do next. Robin broke the silence.

“So… Now what?” She asked, looking around at the odd little group, uncomfortable with the silence.

“What do you mean?” Chrissy asked, looking over at Robin.

“Chrissy, you were just, like, possessed, or something,” Robing waved her hands around to make a point, “And we’re just gonna go home? Kick back and have a post-possession beer?!”

“No, no you’re right.” Steve groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “Chrissy shouldn’t be alone. What if it happens again.”

Chrissy frowned, looking down at the ground and trying to stifle her panic. Blinking back tears at the idea of going through that again. 

“No, no that’s not happening again,” Eddie cut in, noticing Chrissy’s anxiety.

“You can’t guarantee that man,” Steve shook his head at Eddie, looking sorry.

“Then,” Eddie floundered for a second, trying to think of something, “Then, I’ll stay with her! I’ll stop it if it happens again.”

“You have no idea how-” Steve started.

“The heat, right?” Eddie cut him off, almost pleading, “The heat makes it stop?”

“You barely held it together the first time!” Steve argued, a hand on his hip, “Do you really think you’d be able to help her?”

“Hey, man, that was-” Eddie jabbed a finger at Steve, getting irritated.

“Hey!” Robin shouted, cutting Eddie off and making both boys look her way, “How about we all stick together? Me and Steve have handled stuff like this before, and Chrissy clearly trusts Eddie to some degree, so… let’s stay together?”

“Do you want to do that?” Eddie asked, looking down at Chrissy by his side.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Chrissy said. She opened her mouth to say more but stopped.

“It’s settled then!” Robin clapped, “Let’s head to Steve's house!”

“My house? Why my house?” Steve turned to Robin.

“Because you have the biggest house and no parents to freak out about whatever exorcism shit we might have to do.” Robin was already headed around the side of Steve’s car to the passenger seat. 

“That’s fucked up and you know it,” Steve pointed a finger at Robin, who just shrugged and pulled on the door handle in response.

“Just follow us!” Robin shouted towards Eddie and Chrissy over the top of the car before getting in.

Eddie and Chrissy stood there for a moment, taken off guard by Robin's quick decisions. He looked down at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” He asked, looking down at her and raising an eyebrow.

Chrissy shrugged, “Do we have a better option?”

[kendrene]

"Can you ask me if it hurt when I fell from heaven?"

When Ava says it, half-leant out of her seat and tilted toward Beatrice, what she’s aiming for is smooth. What actually happens is that her elbow, precariously planted on the table in front of them, skids across a patch of unidentifiable liquid (it’s probably beer) and she tumbles straight out of the chair. Right at Beatrice’s feet.

“Uhm.” How is it possible for Beatrice to be this pretty from any and all angles? Is it a skill? Does it come naturally? Ava doesn’t know, but it shouldn’t be allowed. It shouldn’t even be legal. “Did it hurt now?”

“Oh my fucking God, do not encourage her.” A strong set of hands slides under her armpits and Ava is hoisted back onto her seat. “Worst. Pick. Up. Line. Ever.” Mary jabs a finger into her sternum as punctuation for each word. “Like, seriously. Do better.”

“Excuse me, that was a very good pick up line. The best pick up line that ever was.”

“Only if you want your audience’s ears to bleed.”

“Well, clearly, you’re not the target audience, are you?” Ava reaches for the bottle she’d been drinking from, but it’s already empty. She could up her game if Mary gave her pointers. She’s seen old videos of her with Shannon — how easily Mary could make her laugh. Their chemistry was off the fucking charts.

As for her and Beatrice — Ava has no clue where they stand. Sometimes it feels that they’re a spark away from deflagration in the best possible way, but then she’ll say or do something stupid and end up like a character in one of those old cartoons she and Diego were sometimes allowed to watch on VHS on Sunday mornings; lab coat burned to kingdom come and eyebrows singed right off.

“Did you say pick up line?” Beatrice interjects, and there’s an odd lilt to the words, as if something far too big to be contained got stuck inside her throat.

“Christ.” Mary rolls her eyes. “I can’t do this sober.”

“Do? Do what?”

“This— whatever you two have going on, that you’ve not been talking about.” Mary waves a hand in the empty space between them, but her eyes are scanning the bottles strewn all over the table for more booze. There’s probably some rule against drinking in a convent, and Ava is pretty certain Mother Superion would enforce it if she knew how the six of them have been spending their evening, but Mother Superion has been called away to help elect another Pope (do they ever run out of those?), and Camila — the only person with a lick of sense left in the group — forgot to bring any.

“What—” No mistake, this time. Beatrice is trying and failing to swallow. “What do you think we have going on?”

“Don’t ask me — ah!” Mary holds up an unopened bottle of vodka, triumphant. “Ask her.”

“Oh.” Lilith crows from the shadows. “This is going to be good.”

“This is going to be private.” A small riot breaks out at the announcement, but Mary rounds the others up with quick efficiency and herds them for the door. “Come on all of you. No, Camila, you can’t stay and watch. I don’t care about posterity.” Camila argues back something. “Ava can write her own damn warrior nun journal. Yasmine, quit staring or I’ll—”

The rest of the threat is lost down the hallway and it doesn’t take long for their steps to recede.

Everything is quiet. The late evening fills with unspoken undercurrents. There’s a thickness to the air that is not due to the lingering heat of summer. It presses down on them with the beloved weight of a favorite blanket wrapped around the body a bit too tight.

All of a sudden, Ava is stone cold sober. She really really really wishes Mary had left the bottle behind.

“Ava?”

Sounds are supposed to break a prolonged silence, but Bea’s voice, small against the vastness of the night, only enhances it. When Ava dares look, Bea is leaning forward, her cheeks suffused a lovely red as though she’s just sat down after a run. Only one of the overhead lights is still on, and they exist in its tight circle, the darkness beyond alive with the things Ava knows that she already should have said. “Ava, what did Mary mean? What — what does she think is between us?”

Bea wets her lips, and Ava’s gaze is instantly drawn to the motion. Something molten pulses outward from the halo, pooling in her gut. Lower, like the glimpse she inadvertently got of Bea’s tongue somehow directly interlaced with her nerve endings — open flame to tinder — and set everything alight.

She’s faced dozens of demons, held her own against a fallen angel hell bent on world dominion — she’s been to a whole different realm, goddammit — but she doesn’t have the guts to simply bridge the gap and kiss Beatrice again.  

With difficulty, Ava drops her eyes to where Bea’s hands are resting. They’re so familiar now. The callouses from training. The array of small scars across the knuckles where flesh has been torn and healed so many times it is pale, almost translucent, against the darker canvas of Beatrice’s sun-kissed skin. Reaching out, Ava takes Bea’s right hand in both of her own, traces from scar to scar with the tip of a finger as if drawing constellations. Under her touch, Beatrice is shaking badly, or maybe it is her.

She doesn’t think it matters.

“Ava?” Beatrice says her name the way she’s said it hundreds of other times. Sweetly, a bit uncertain. More than a little scared. Expectant.

Ava takes one big breath and —

“Iminlovewithyou.”

— she wants to kick herself.

First because she’s never meant to say it now. Second because she’s never meant to rush it out in such a way. Barebones. No preamble. She had given a much better speech when she’d said what she’d supposed where her goodbyes inside of Adriel’s inverted church. That moving line about the warrior nun duty, and Beatrice living her life, all tied neatly together with that final in the next that Ava had managed to force out despite the well of tears inside her. It was all very romantic in a tragic sort of way.

Shit. What if she can be romantic only when she’s dying? That would fucking suck.

But she can’t take it back now. The sentence just burst out of her in a single breath, the same way power blasts from her when she overexerts the halo. And Ava may have made a grab for Beatrice’s hand to have something to hold on to, but now Bea, too, is gripping her fingers tight, and they’re two ships caught in the same storm, fighting not to let the other slip away from sight.

“I love you.” Ava repeats, slower this time. “And I’ve loved you since the Vatican. I’ve loved you since before that, actually. Since I got my stupid foot stuck inside the stupid wall in Mother Superion’s stupid office and you talked me out of it.”

“Ava…”

“And that’s why I’m always acting like a fool. Otherwise I’d have to stop and self-analyze, you know? And then, I’d have to talk to you about it, and what if you don’t love me back? I mean, I know you do, friend-like, but if you didn’t love me love me I think I would be really sad and—” Her shoulders sag. “But I guess the cat is on the table now, uh? It’s okay if you don’t love me, by the way. Like I said, I’m just going to mope for a while but I’ll--”

“Ava, stop.”

“—  be okay, you don’t have to worry — oh.” Did Beatrice say stop? “Did you say, stop?”

Crap. Beatrice doesn’t want to hear more of her hastily crafted (held together by a hail mary, a safety pin and hope) love confession. Double crap. Beatrice is smiling, so bright and wide that it reaches all the way to her eyes, crinkling them at the edges.

“You’re smiling.” Ava points out, utterly invested in her role as captain obvious.

“Yes.”

“Is it a good thing?”

“I’d say.”

“Oh.” Beatrice gives her hand a gentle squeeze. “So this means—”

“That I feel the way you feel. And I guess I didn’t say where you could hear for pretty much the same reasons.”

“But you said it? Before, I mean?”

“Yes.” A cloud settles over Beatrice’s face, and Ava regrets asking. “After you went through the portal. It took a while for the others to get to me so I sat there and I said it, over and over.” Beatrice draws in a steadying breath that seems to go on forever. “I was hoping you could hear me.” Her smile returns, but tempered. “So, you see, you’re not the only fool around here.”

“I can hear it now.” Ava’s heart is thumping so hard and fast against her ribcage she wonders whether the halo will have to heal a bruise. “You know, if you wanted to say it.”

Beatrice closes her eyes. Opens them, and an army of Tarasks could march through the refectory this second, Ava would not give them the time of day.

“Ava Silva,” Beatrice begins, incredibly steady. “I’m in love with you, too.”

***

“So,” Beatrice asks her later, in what Ava is sure is the best interest of open and healthy communication. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“No.” Ava nuzzles into Bea’s naked shoulder, arm draped loosely around her waist. “Because you were already there to catch me.”

[wovenintosilk]

Here to fulfill a need for requests!

Pavitr X male!spiderman! Reader

The reader is new to the spider society and meet pavitr through gwen. The friendship blooms and so do their feelings for one another. At the end they confess and have their first kiss.

Cute right?

Hopefully you get to think but no worries if not! Have a good day!

Thank you so much for the request! I ended up accidentally making the reader more gender neutral but I hope it suits what you were looking for regardless.

Enjoy!

No Content Warnings

GN!Reader

Word Count: 1300

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

Though you’d met only a few heroes, none really surprised you anymore. They all carried a similar seriousness regardless of their true personalities and most of them hesitated for at least ten minutes before revealing their identities to you.

Except for Gwen’s friend who no sooner landed on the roof and pulled his mask off. “I’m dying,” he complained. “This heatwave is going to end me.”

Gwen laughed. “These suits are awful for the summer. Pav, this is the friend I wanted you to meet.”

Pavitr glanced over at you as though he hadn’t quite realised you were there before but then he smiled, almost stunning you momentarily with how genuine and warm it was. “Hey,” he greeted. “Another spiderman?”

“Something like that,” you agreed though Gwen had kidnapped you on one of your days off.

“Why are you sitting in the sun though?” Pavitr huffed, wincing up at the sky. “At least move to the shade.”

You took him up on the request. Admittedly, you’d been slowly overheating but not wanting to ask Gwen about it yet. The roof didn’t offer much shade beyond a water tower but at least it allowed you to easily find a spot to balance.

Further benefits of having friends who had powers at least meant the laws of physics restricted you less.

“Nobody’s really concerned about their secret identity in this society,” you noted.

Pavitr appeared mildly confused. He looked down at the mask in his hands and shrugged. “Why bother hiding it? Who do you know in my dimension to tell? And even if you do, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Both Gwen and you winced at the familiar words but Pavitr didn’t even notice. He found a spot to rest and tilted his head back, leaning it against one of the legs of the water tower.

A strange fluttering in your chest triggered. You turned your attention away to avoid staring too much; a hidden weakness for people who were ridiculously attractive.

“What’s the plan?” you asked. “We just going to hang out?”

“I’ll give you the tour when the sun stops trying to kill me,” Pavitr said. “Or when something happens?”

Gwen sighed but the familiar smile on her face gave it less weight. “Something will show up. It always does.”

True to her words, the luck of Spiderman never failed to provide a tragedy to break up an otherwise boring day. Your tour of the city came around while chasing after a petty thief who’d somehow built himself a speed enhancer. Honestly, you weren’t paying much attention to him.

Pavitr kept drawing your eyes as he showed off new things in his city. He stopped you so often Gwen grew tired and went on ahead.

For all that effort though, Pavitr remained distracted while securing the thief and ended up taking a solid hit to the jaw for it. You winced when he took his mask off after, not liking how the dark bruise crept up the side of his cheek.

He groaned. “Bro, my aunt is going to kill me when she sees this.”

You laughed and from that day forward, Pavitr’s dimension turned into one of your favourite places to stop over at when you had time. Partially because it was fun but mostly because of the Spiderman guarding the city.

You couldn’t help staring when he excitedly told you about his adventures, couldn’t stop yourself from lingering longer than you should have when the time came to say goodbye. Something about him caught you and refused to let your attention wander anywhere else.

When he asked, you told him you came for the dogs.

It wasn’t until work and responsibilities kept you away for almost two weeks that you realised how much you’d been visiting.

Without being there, you grew uneasy and restless. A strange loneliness hung in your heart without having Pavitr there and you kept wanting to send a message or visit though you didn’t know how welcome it would be.

You were friends.

But it didn’t help you remember when you finished your work and immediately opened a portal to be met with a tight hug.

“Hey! You’re back!” Pavitr wasn’t in his suit, instead dressed in casual clothing that had no right looking so good on him. “It’s been so boring without you here.”

The sudden tackle caused an aching pain through your leg, a reminder of how your work hadn’t run smoothly. You didn’t say anything though, knowing it might end your interaction early.

“It’s great to be back,” you said. “Everything got so busy suddenly but it’s handled now. Did the city survive without me?”

Pavitr grinned. “Yeah, but I nearly didn’t! I was going crazy without somebody to talk to. It’s going to take me ages to catch you up on everything.”

He wasted no time in launching into a recount of the past weeks; walked you through the streets and eventually through an alley so you could swing onto the roofs with ease.

The sun had begun to set as you reached the top. Its golden rays danced through the sky and lit the city in a stunning light. A warm feeling spread in your heart at the familiar sight – more welcome than even your own home now.

“You alright bro?”

You snapped out of your trance to face Pavitr whose stare stuttered your heart.  

“I was just thinking how much I missed this place.”

He hummed proudly. “I know, I have the best city in the world. That’s why I hate travelling to other dimensions. They’re so boring.”

You sat on the edge, your face turned to the sun. “It makes me want to stay forever.”

“Why not? It would be way better than you having to go all the time.”

It had been a joke in your mind but that response made you freeze for a second. “It would be less travel,” you said though it sounded strained to your own ears.

Pavitr sat next to you, closer than he usually did and still wearing that easy grin on his face. “Exactly! It makes sense, right? You can stay and pretend you’re not in love with me even more.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not in love with you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He could be teasing you. It felt like a joke in some ways though when you turned to look at him properly, there was a challenge of sorts in his smile. Waiting for your response.

“Awfully arrogant of you,” you said.

He shrugged but leaned closer in, making your breath stop momentarily. “Nope. I just have good eyesight.”

It would take less than a second for you to close the gap. And you really, really wanted to.

He did it for you.

His lips pressed against yours briefly; so quickly you didn’t even realise what had happened at first. The slight flush on his cheeks was your only proof it hadn’t been your imagination.

The silence stretched and then you kissed him back.

He made a soft surprised sound against your lips, one that went straight to your heart. The slow movement brought a lingering taste of chai. The warm press stirred the fluttering of your heart faster still. One of your hands found its way to his jaw, gently cupping it to allow you to lead.

The kiss remained slow. You didn’t need anything more than the heat of his breath as it mingled with your own.

And when you pulled away, you couldn’t hide the stuttering of your breath even if you wanted to. His golden eyes danced as they fell on your lips and he moved back in for one more short peck.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a very long time,” you admitted. “Since the day I met you.”

He laughed and created a little distance, his shoulder remained against yours. “You should have.”

“Pav, I’d just met you. I think you would find it pretty weird.”

“Nah I’m a chilled guy. I wouldn’t complain if an attractive person kissed me.” He thought about it before conceding. “Though it might be different if it wasn’t you.”

“I’m lucky then,” you said.

The sun sank behind the horizon while you watched, your head falling onto Pavitr’s shoulder.

[watchyoubloom]

from kiss roulette

A kiss on the forehead

A kiss to the top of the head

but stealing the idea of two characters and proposing danny + sammy🙂‍↕️

hiiiiii hi! this got away from me (as expected 🙂‍↕️) but thank you first of all for the prompt and second of all for making it a sanny x reader oneeeeee 🫶🏻

feel free to send me prompts and i’ll write you a snippet!

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

“Hi, honey,” you hear from somewhere beyond the sleep you’re currently wrapped up in. “We’re home.”

“In here,” you manage to call out a moment later, once you finally recognize Sam’s voice as real and not part of a dream. You’d come home from work early after coming down with an awful end of summer head cold, and had been laid up on the couch in your comfy clothes ever since. Your voice cracks a little and you have to work double time to make it loud enough for Sam and Danny to hear from the entryway. “Living-“ You break off to cough and clear your throat. “Living room.”

“Why are all the lights off?” Danny asks as he walks in, toeing off his shoes and walking over to you. You’re cuddled in your favorite throw blanket, and he sits on the edge of the couch beside you. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Are you sick?”

“Just a cold,” you respond, but your traitorous voice gives out at that exact moment. “It’s okay.”

“Did you come home early?” Sam has joined the two of you in the living room now, and drapes himself over the back of the couch to peer down at you. “You should have called us.”

“It’s nothing,” you try again to lessen the ordeal you’re in. It’s just a cold, you’re sure.

Sam reaches down to rest the back of his hand on your forehead. “Baby, you’re burning up.”

“Really? M’freezing.”

Sam and Danny’s eyes meet over top of you, and Danny nods his affirmation to whatever wordless conversation they just had. “I’m gonna go get you some medicine from upstairs. Have you taken anything?” You shake your head, and Danny clicks his tongue. “Just wanted to sit in your suffering?”

You manage a hoarse laugh at that. “No, I just barely made it home and out of my work clothes before I passed out. M’sorry—“

“No apologies,” Sam says, cutting you off. He comes around the side of the couch and leans down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m gonna go make soup. Want some tea?”

You nod and reach out to squeeze his hand. “Thanks, Sammy.”

Danny squeezes his hand where it’s been resting on your hip. “What hurts? Head, ears, throat? Any congestion?”

“Yes,” you reply miserably. “All of the above.”

“I’ll be right back,” Danny says. He leans over and kisses your forehead. “Jesus, you are burning up.”

He returns a minute later with what looks like the entirety of your medicine cabinet, handing you pills and your water bottle and watching as you dutifully swallow them down. “Still cold?” He asks, and you nod, wincing as the motion makes your head hurt.

He stands up and grabs another blanket to tuck you under, but has you sit up first so he can slide in behind you. You sit in between his legs, your back to his chest, and the warmth from his body helps more than the two blankets and hoodie of Sam’s that you have piled on. Danny grabs the remote and puts on reruns of an old sitcom, just to have something on, and turns the volume down low. You’re already feeling tired again, cozy and warm and comfortable for the first time all day in his arms, and start to doze off a little as he runs his fingers through your hair.

Sam brings you your tea not long after that, also toting one for Danny, and bestows kisses on both of your foreheads before returning to the kitchen. “Italian penicillin, coming right up!”

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

[celandeline]

Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (28)

I don’t bother closing the door to my room behind Farleigh - we won’t be here much longer anyway. 

As soon as we’re past the threshold of the door, he stumbles, collapsing onto the bed. He’s gasping, crying and shaking at the same time as he drops his head into his hands. I want to comfort him - but the urge to get out of this place as fast as possible is stronger. I need to leave. 

I pull my suitcase from under the bed, and crack it open, tossing it into the center of the room. On autopilot, I start ripping into the drawers, going through the motions of folding everything as small as possible and shoving it all into my suitcase. After studying abroad, it’s second nature to pack - something I don’t really have to think about.

The image of Felix’s dead body forces itself to the forefront of my mind. 

I blink - long and hard - and force it away, focusing instead on the hardwood under my knees, the dusty smell of the room, the sound of Farleigh quietly sobbing on the bed. 

“Farleigh.” I say, my voice wavering.

“Eves.” He responds, but doesn’t lift his head out of his hands. 

“We have to go.” I say, trying to be as gentle as I can. Despite my efforts, the frantic urgency still seeps into my voice. “You should go pack.”

His crying increases. “I can’t- I can’t go home.”

I stop packing, turning to look at him. “What?”

“I don’t-” He chokes. “I can’t- where do I go?” He looks up at me. “My mom- she’s going to be evicted this month,” He hiccups. “She’ll be living on the street-”

“What about your dad?” I ask. 

Farleigh shakes his head. “I haven’t spoken to him in like,” He hiccups again. “Eight years. I don’t know where to find him-”

“Okay.” I cut him off, my mind racing. “Okay. You can just come to Brooklyn with me. I have an apartment, you can stay with me.”

He hiccups again, running a hand underneath his eyes, wiping the tears. “No, I can’t-”

“Farleigh.” I almost snap at him. “You can’t stay here.”

The anger in my voice jolts him to his feet. “Right.” He says. “Um. I’ll go pack.” He makes his way to the door, but he lingers, turning to look back at me. His eyes are puffy, and tear tracks run down his face. “You’re sure..?”

I nod. “I’m sure. Go pack.”

He nods, still a little unsure, but disappears down the hall, back towards his room. 

I go back to packing, methodically opening drawers, emptying them, and folding them into my suitcase. I’m not even really look at what I’m putting in my bag, my mind too busy trying to make sense of everything that’s happened in the past thirty six hours. My head is pounding from the alcohol and the coke, my legs are sore from the sex, and my stomach churns from the horrificness of it all. It feels like someone switched the genre of the story - from a summer beach read to a psychological horror.

The first dead body I’ve ever seen belongs to my best friend’s brother. There was still glitter on my face when my world fundamentally shifted forever. 

The chest of drawers empty, I stand up, ignoring the protest from my knees, and move to the wardrobe, repeating the process. The hangers bang against the wood of the cabinet as I strip sundresses and tank tops from them, the garments falling in a pile on top of my suitcase. I’ll do the bathroom next…

The sound of the door creaking open breaks through my stupor, and I turn to find Venetia standing there, her eyes locked on the suitcase in the middle of the floor. She sways on her feet, obviously wasted beyond belief. 

“V?”

Her eyes slowly find mine. “What are you doing?”

I look down at the suitcase, and then back up at her. “Packing.”

“Why?” 

I want to laugh and scream at the same time. These fucking people- “Because your brother just died, V. I’m not just going to keep vacationing.”

Something in her expression shifts. “You’re leaving me?”

On instinct I say, “No-”, but really, I am. I can’t stay here though, not when someone’s just died. I can’t grieve for him like the rest of the family will - though if lunch is anything to go by, I doubt there will be much grieving at all. Either way, the way James was shouting earlier makes it abundantly clear that I need to leave. 

Venetia’s voice is full of contempt. “You are. You’re leaving me.”

“I can’t stay.” I say, turning from the wardrobe to walk over to the door. “I can’t. Your brother is-”

“What about me?” She says. “What am I supposed to do? You’d leave me here, alone, without Felix or you?”

“I can’t stay.” I repeat. “Farleigh-”

“You promised.” She interrupts me, jamming a pointing finger into my chest. “You promised that you would never like him more than me, and look at you now! Leaving me just because Dad told him to get out.”

“That’s not why I’m fucking leaving.” Her anger seeps through the tip of her finger and right into my heart, infecting me. “Felix is dead!” I almost shout it. “Summer is over! I can’t just keep vacationing and pretending everything is fine like you psychopaths!”

She retracts back from me in shock, taking a step back into the hall. “Don’t shout at me.”

All the anger fades as quick as it had come on. “I’m not- I’m sorry.” I say. “I just can’t walk around pretending everything is normal when it’s not, I can’t-”

“I’m not asking you to.” She says. “I just want you to stay.”

“I can’t-”

“Please.” She’s almost pleading now. “Don’t leave. I can’t have you leave too-”

“Venetia.” I cut her off. “Your brother is dead. Your parents are grieving. I’m only a guest - I can’t stay here. I need to go home.”

She retreats further into the hallway, betrayal laid plain on her face. “Fine.” She says, defeated. “Go home then.”

“V-” I start. A million apologies dance on the tip of my tongue - I should be comforting her right now, not arguing. 

But she turns her back on me anyway, slipping down the hall, back towards the stairs. I linger in the door - and for a moment I almost call out to her, beg her to come back - but I don’t. I turn back to my room. 

I need to finish packing. 

< previous part | next part >

[lilbadgyu]

All About You: 김선우

- song: All About You by The Boyz

The Boyz Master List

     walking down the hallway, heading to you next class; you spot him. he was the one that you’ve had eyes on since the first day of school; all the way back in high school. now... you’re going to the same college. you told your friends all about him, and they always tried to get his attention on you, but it never really worked out. now being on your own, you just had to wish for the best to happen.

     as you walked down the hallway, he looks back as someone calls his name. your eyes meet, and instantly your gaze is to the floor. of course, that just had to happen and now your heart is racing and you don’t know what to do. you had to get to class, but a part of you wanted to say hi to him, and just get it over with. 

     you looked to the time on your phone, and you had five minutes to get to your next class; stopping and saying hi wasn’t going to be possible. you just kept on your way, going to your class. when you walked in, your eyes scanned the area for an open seat; since this class was one of the more popular ones at this time. which you never understood how calculus was so popular, most people hated math beyond anything. 

     you made your way to your seat, setting your bag on the floor before sitting down and taking out your laptop. “is this seat taken?” a voice asked, causing you to look up at who it was. 

     and of course... it was him. 

     “oh uh- no it isn’t it’s open.” you answered nervously. 

     he smiled softly and took the opened seat, taking out his laptop as well. “you seem familiar.” he said, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

     “we actually went to the same high school together, i was always that one that had her friends come up and talk to you.” you laugh nervously, rubbing your arm. 

     “oh my gosh, i can’t believe i didn’t even recognize you.” he replied.

     ‘yeah because you being the kim sunwoo, you never looked at me.’ you thought to yourself, “yeah i’ve changed a bit over summer.” you replied, a smile trying to surface. 

     “man, i’m sorry to say this but what’s your name again?” he asked, in a genuine way but it still stung. 

    “oh its y/n” you chuckled.

    “i’ll remember that for the rest of the year because we are now seatmates for our classes. does that sound good?” sunwoo asked with a proud smile. 

    you nodded, “that does sound good, i’d like that.” you smiled. 

----

    after class it was finally lunch, and you were starving. of course you had no idea where to go, and really didn’t have friends to go to lunch with. you looked back to sunwoo, talking to his friends eric, hyunjae, and juyeon. those two were a part of the little group that sunwoo ran around with, and from what it looks like; they all are probably going to this college. 

    they looked to you, sunwoo smiling at you; making your heart race. you never did think that this would happen, nor would it be happening right now. you smiled back and turned around only to be called by sunwoo himself. you let out a sigh and traced back to sunwoo and his three friends. “y/n; eric, hyunjae, juyeon, and i were all wondering if you wanted to get lunch with us.” sunwoo said. 

     “um well, depends on where you want to go because i have to get to art history at 1:35.” you replied checking your phone for the time. 

     “would you like to come to our apartment for lunch? it’s only a five minute walk from here.” sunwoo asked.

     you hesitated, “uh no, i think i’ll just find something to eat around campus.” you nervously replied, scared that you sounded rude.

     “hey that’s okay, don’t worry about it. maybe we can do it another time?” sunwoo asked.

     you nodded hesitantly. “here, take this.” sunwoo said, handing you a piece of paper. 

     with that he walked away with his friends. you carefully opened the folded piece of paper, revealing a 10 digit number with a little smiley face. ‘finally after five years’

[haradasaya]

The Swan Princess > Chapter 4

Sorry for the long break between chapters, I moved apartments! Now that I'm in and settled, hopefully I'll be able to get the rest of the chapters up before the holidays! <3 CW: Fem!Lovely, Fem!ListenerCharacter, talk of previous abuse, magical exploitation, depictions of magical violence, abandonment, Adam Redacted who deserves his own warning lol

“So, my love. What do you want to know first?” 

Vincent laughed, as if the answer to that question wasn’t obvious. “Let’s start with, what the hell happened? How are you here?”

The princess played with the hem of her dress. “Well, it’s all a little hazy, even in my memory. But I remember seeing you off that day, and wishing we didn’t have to part for the summer…”

“Do I really have to go? I’ll be back again at the end of summer for the masque, why can’t I just stay until then?”

Vincent smiled, kissing along her cheek, over her neck and finally to her lips. “My love, you may be my queen, but you do have your own kingdom to rule. You know that you must attend to your duties first.”

Lovely pouted, pressing her bottom lip out as far as she could. “I know.”

Vincent smiled again, taking her cheeks between his hands. “We’ll be back together before you know it. You’ll have my necklace, and I promise I’ll write you letters every single day, and I’ll send all my love in them so that you never have to feel apart from me.”

Lovely’s lips curled in the corners, pleased with that answer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Always his immediate answer.

“I remember complimenting your dress.” Vincent said, recalling the events of a day he’d told himself to never remember. “You said you’d made it yourself.”

Lovely nodded. “I indeed had. Fat lot of good it’s done for me now.”

Vincent chuckled. She looked so beautiful in the moonlight. Oh how he’d missed her. “Go on, please, tell me what happened next.”

Lovely nodded. “I got into my carriage and we set off for the border…”

“Coach?” Lovely called to the driver. “Is there any way that we can slow down just a bit when we reach the crest of the mountain? I’d like to take one final look over the valley once we’re up high enough.”

The coachman, a rather plump man with a white mustache and a kind face, nodded his head gracefully. “Of course, madame. I will let you know once we’ve arrived.”

Lovely sat back against the cushion of the carriage. It was going to be a long ride back to her castle, and without anyone to keep her company—besides the coach and the army of soldiers on either end of her wagon—she was going to become dreadfully bored. Vincent had sent her with a parcel of his creation, full of snacks and treats, a pair of fantasy books he’d stolen from the castle library, and the miniature painting he’d done on a small cut of paper that practically mirrored her real portrait. Vincent was an excellent painter, an excellent pianist and violinist, and an even greater strategist. They were opposites in many ways, as Lovely had always been the better hunter, the better shot, and the one with the cleanest kills. But incidentally, those opposites were also compliments, and where one lacked, the other excelled. In every way, the pair was perfect for each other.

It wasn’t much longer after that that the coachman slowed the horses to a halt, and Lovely was escorted out of her carriage. The knights escorting her stood at attention, watching her make her way to the edge of the cliff, pressing her hands to the wooden railing in place as she stood on her tiptoes to take in the truly magnificent view.

The valley of the Kingdom of Solaire was gorgeous. Mountains loomed in the distance around the kingdom, with majestic waterfalls and meandering rivers weaving towards the coast below. The castle sat directly between the mountains where they’d stopped and the ocean beyond the city, city surrounding the castle in every direction, farmland on the North and East sides stretching up onto the curve of the mountain, and in some places in terraces up the gentle incline. Between the city and the mountain path lay a great forest that Lovely was very familiar with. She glanced back up at the castle, noting its design. The stonework was a beautiful shade of beige, the crest of the Solaire Kingdom printed into every flag atop every spire, and in various places etched within the stone walls. Lovely looked with pride over the city, taking it all in for one final time before having to return home. This was going to be her kingdom someday, her crown to wear with her love by her side. And she was happy.

“When I got back into my carriage, I had no idea things were about to go terribly wrong.” She spoke, her voice sullen. “Almost immediately after we started moving again, the coach stopped once more, and I could hear horses whinnying, and the knights yelling. I tried to ask the coach what was happening, but he didn’t say anything.”

“Coachman! What’s happening? Are you alright? Please sir, what’s going on–”

Lovely screamed as the coach rocked: not enough to topple it, but enough to lift one side clean off the ground. Lovely threw herself towards the toppling side in an attempt to balance the weight, but it was pointless. She realized, as the carriage rocked again, further this time than before, that this wasn’t just an earthquake or strong winds, but another force acting with intention to send her and her carriage toppling off the cliff. She still attempted to climb out of the cab, throwing the door open, but simultaneously that same force pushed back into the carriage for a final time, sending the carriage toppling into its side. Lovely fell against the inside of the wall of the coach, and only a second passed before she realized that the carriage was still moving, now tipping upside down as it began its tumble over the edge of the cliff. She tried to cling to the walls, the benches, anything that would stop her fall.  But nothing helped her, and she collided with wall after wall as she fell.

“This is where things start to get hazy. I remember falling, hitting my head and body on every possible surface as I rolled inside the carriage. And then I think I remember seeing someone…? I’m not sure, but I remember feeling held, like someone had placed a protective bubble around me—and though I was barely lucid, I remember when the cart stopped rolling. We ended up near a home—I remember that because I could see it through a crack in the paneling.”

Vincent was honed into the story, eyes locked on her as she spoke. “And then what happened?”

Lovely looked out towards the lake, gaze far away. “I can’t remember all the details, but eventually I passed out. It felt like I was being carried away at some point, but I was in too much pain to open my eyes to see who it was that was holding me.” She turned back to face him. “When I woke up, I was here, at the shore of this lake.”

Lovely woke to the sound of waves, feeling instantly the gritty sand beneath her hands and cheek. Her eyes slowly cracked open, and she tried to sit up, taking in the unfamiliar forest around her. It was nearing sunset, the land around her basked in golden light and soft, tilted shadows. She looked down at herself, seeing the dark bruises and small abrasions on her skin, and then grabbed her head in her hands when hot pain streaked through it: a concussion, surely. This wasn’t happening. Surely she was just asleep in the carriage, and all this had been a bad dream, right?

Lovely tried to calm her heart. “Okay, walk yourself through this,” she thought to herself, “Surely there’s an explanation for all of this.”

She recalled the events of the day, leaving Vincent at the castle, beginning the trek back to her homeland, and then…

…her carriage had been pushed down a cliff. Oh Goddess, how had that even happened? Surely no one man could have done that? There were hundreds of guards with her caravan, they would have captured a single perpetrator. But then… it had been entirely too quiet for a group, so what could have caused her carriage to tip like that?

She remembered the way that the coachman hadn’t responded to her questions. Had he… died? What happened to all the guards?

That hot pain flashed through her head again, and she rested her face in her hands, knees pressed to her chest. She had to stay calm. She needed to get back to familiar territory. She couldn’t open her eyes right this moment, but as soon as she could, she’d collect herself, and then she’d figure out a plan. She was a good hunter, she knew how to read the forest. She’d be able to make it out of here. If only this pain in her head would stop—

“My my, you certainly look worse for wear. Are you alright, madam?”

Lovely’s eyes shot open, shocked and surprised and scared to see someone standing before her. Had he been there all along? That hot pain flashed through her head again, and she closed her eyes once more, returning her head to her knees to remove the light from in front of her eyelids. She didn’t like feeling like that, didn’t like not being able to see him and assess him for danger, but the throbbing in her head was unbearable with her eyes open, so she’d have to take her chances.

“I’ve had worse.” She said, an obvious lie. She was in bad shape. If she couldn’t find her way out of here, she’d die.

She could hear the man before her take a few steps closer. “If I may miss, I know a bit of healing magic. I could tend to your wounds, if you’d like.”

Something didn’t feel right about all of this. She hated that she couldn’t manage to keep her eyes open to watch him as he spoke. She felt like she’d be able to get a better read on him if she were able to see him as he talked. Perhaps it wasn’t a great idea, but she didn’t feel like she had much choice. If he could help her head, at least, she’d feel a lot better, and a lot more aware of her surroundings.

“So I agreed. I decided to take my chances, and thanked him for offering to help me.” Lovely scoffed then. “What a fool I’d been to trust him.”

“Trust who? Who was the man?”

Her entire demeanor shifted then, both defensive and angry and somehow still more sorrowful than cross.

“Give me your hand, madam. I’ll help you to stand.” He said suavely, in that tone that stirred the uncanny feeling in your heart of a hidden danger. Each second, Lovely was becoming more and more frightened, afraid that this stranger had ill intentions with her, everything about his behavior and demeanor darkening.

The princess hesitantly gave him her hand, and she managed to force her eyes open by the time they were standing face to face. He seemed incredibly familiar, though where she recognized him from was a mystery. His dark hair covered most of his face, flowing in eerie strands over his shoulders and back that resembled tendrils of shadows. His clothes were mostly black, tiny hints of gold on little accent pieces of what was clearly a mage’s uniform. The smile on his face was barely human, and she realized too late that his eyes were pitch black.

“Hello, Princess.”

Before she could stop him, his magic poured from his hands, encircling her, filling her throat and nose and eyes, red and black and blue stealing the last bit of clarity from her mind. The magic lifted her off the ground, its sheer power overwhelming any other force keeping her there. Through the whirring fog, she could hear the man laughing, and when she caught sight of him, she knew exactly who he was. She knew who had done this to her, and how.

“Adam. Ex-Mage Magistus turned dark sorcerer.”

“Adam!?” Vincent exclaimed so loudly, creatures of all kinds went scampering away into the dark woods. Lovely had to remind him that he needed to keep his voice down or they ran the risk of being found. He apologized, brain clearly working through a million different thoughts.

“I just don’t understand; what was Adam doing there that day? What did he want with you?”

“That’s the next part, let me explain.” She said, and Vincent settled in to let her continue. “As I hung there, helpless against his power, I heard his incantation.”

“Rage of Telmnaresh, heed my call—turn this woman into my doll!”

The magic surrounding Lovely flared, the bright lights blinding her yet again—except this time, it was not simply the blues and reds of Adam’s magic. This time, a yellow white light radiated outward, dispelling some of the smoke that swirled around her. Lovely looked down towards the source of the light, head splitting at the sight, realizing that it was the necklace that Vincent had given her that was dispelling the dark magic. She hadn’t known that the stone within the pendant contained magical qualities, let alone enough power to dispel magic from such a powerful mage! Lovely’s hope bloomed within her chest, and the light flared brighter around her. All seemed hopeful for those few seconds.

“How are you doing that!?” Adam roared, his expression a hard line of fury as he poured more magic into the spell. She didn’t know, but she hoped that it would be enough to—

“Alright Princess, I concede.”

Adam’s hands fell, and with it so did the magic. Lovely dropped to the ground, feet caving out and falling to her knees. Adam sauntered up to her, pacing around her as she tried to catch her breath. She looked up at his twisted expression, annoyance plastered all over the front of it.

“Of course you have a magical amulet, because of course you do. What in Hell’s fury am I supposed to do with you now?”

Lovely was finally able to inhale fully, noting that the pain in her head had gone away a fraction now. Had her amulet done that? “What do you want with me? Why were you trying to ‘make me your puppet’?”

Adam turned away, no intention of answering her question. 

“If my country has wronged you somehow, allow me the opportunity to make it right. There is no need for confrontation–”

Adam rounded on her. “This is not about you! Oh all you princesses thinking the whole damn world revolves around them. Shut up! I can’t think with your incessant blathering.”

Lovely’s jaw dropped. Had he just told her to shut up? “Excuse me, you just made an attempt on my life. You will answer me when I speak to you.”

“I didn’t make an attempt on your life, you nitwit. You would have lived even if my spell had been successful.”

“Oh wonderful. A slave puppet to an evil sorcerer, even better!”

Adam turned away from her, muttering to himself. Lovely wasn’t exactly sure what to do now. Did she try to run away? She couldn’t stay there, she didn’t know what the crazed mage would do. She had no idea if her amulet would be able to stop any other spells. It didn’t matter though, because before she had even taken a single step, he faced her yet again.

“Alright! Fine, I’ll admit it: my plan to trap you has failed. But don’t think I’m letting you get away princess. Since I can’t have you as my marionette, I’ll make you an offer instead. All that I wanted from you was your kingdom. If you give it to me, surrendering your crown and your right to rule it, I will let you live. Seems like a fair deal, no?”

Of all the things that Adam could have asked for, she hadn’t expected an answer that incredulous. Her kingdom? Like hell she’d give that up, least of all to Adam.

“What did you tell him?” Vincent asked smugly, as if he knew that she’d said something creative in reply.

She had. “I told him exactly what I thought about that idea.”

“Princess, what a foul mouth you have. Surely you don’t rule your kingdom with such crude vernacular.”

“You can’t hurt me, Adam. My amulet will protect me from your dark magic. Now if you don’t excuse me, I have a kingdom to return to.” It was a risky bluff, as she didn’t truly know if her amulet would protect her, but she had no other choice. She had to try to get away, while she still had the chance to do so.

Adam stepped in front of her, hand raised at the ready to use more magic if necessary. “I’m afraid you’ll not get away from me that easily. You’re not leaving this forest until I get what I want.”

Lovely scoffed. “You’ll never get my kingdom from me. Something that ludacris will only happen when pigs fly.”

Adam’s black eyes lit up for a moment, like a horrifying idea came into his mind. “When pigs fly—my, what a lovely idea.” 

Lovely scrunched her eyebrows, suddenly worried at what he was going to say. 

“If I can’t make you into my puppet, I’ll simply have to force you into accepting my deal.”

Lovely stepped back, ready to make a run for it when Adam’s magic shot from his hands and grasped her around the waist. “I’ll make you fly my dear, just watch!”

The smoke filled her lungs once more, and within moments, she lost all feeling in her toes, up to her legs and hips, then up her torso and arms, until the swirling magic tingled within her whole being. She could feel her body changing slowly, and she watched in horror as her feet shrunk and became webbed, her body growing feathers and her arms becoming wings, and finally, her neck elongating and her mouth becoming a bill. Within moments, the magic fell away, and she was a simple swan floating on the lake. 

She tried to scream, but all that came from her new mouth were the squawks of the fowl she found herself trapped inside of. Adam stared at her, pleased smirk twisting his lips. “Excellent. Now with that out of the way, I’ll be taking this—”

He reached for the pendant still around Lovely’s neck, having shrunk to match the neck of the animal wearing it, but when he got close, his hand began to singe just from reaching towards it. It appeared to reject his very being from coming close, he couldn’t even touch the chain of it without flinching away. Lovely was relieved that her one method of protection from him wouldn't be taken so easily, though she still didn’t know how to react to the spell he’d placed on her.

“Damn it! Even after all this, I still can’t take the damn thing off you!”

It was almost satisfying to watch him throw a tantrum, but it would have been more satisfying if she wasn’t floating on a lake right now, trapped inside the body of a bird.

“Come on little princess, it’s not like you can stay like that forever. You’ll want to return to your human form eventually, right? You’ll die a swan if you don’t comply with my demands.”

To that, Lovely simply kicked her feet and turned her entire body around, floating away from him and further into the lake. “Hey! Get back here you— you spoiled princess!”

It was then that the final rays of sunlight faded over the edge of the valley, plunging the whole valley into shadow, and stealing the light over the water where Lovely floated. As it vanished, the stone in her amulet began to glow yet again, and before she knew it, the same magic that had twisted her body into a swan had transformed her into a human yet again.

“Son of a–” Was all Lovely heard before falling underneath the water, having been far enough into the water that she could not touch when she fell in, no longer the small, buoyant animal she had been a moment ago. When she was finally able to drag herself and her soggy gown onto land, Adam stood there, his eyebrows and lips twisted in frustration. He turned toward her then, but not directly at her—rather at her amulet. He was muttering to himself, something about her necklace, and she guessed that it truly was the one thing that was keeping her alive right now.

“So, since your stupid magic trick failed, can I leave now? This has truly gone on for far too long, Adam.”

He sneered up at her. “Of course you can’t leave! I’m not done with you, princess. Did you really think the curse was that simple to break?”

Lovely inhaled. “Curse?”

“Oh yes,” he crooned, “Did you really think this was nothing but a simple spell meant to transform you once as my method of convincing? No, little one, that was a curse, and one of my most powerful to date.”

Lovely’s expression turned horrified as she realized what he was saying. 

“Your magic stone may have saved you from being a swan now, but it won't be that way forever. When the sun rises in the morning, you will be a swan once more, I can assure you.”

Lovely scoffed. “You’re not serious? You truly expect me to believe that? After all that I’ve managed to stop you from doing so far, do you really think that I believe that I won’t be able to get away this time?”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “I suppose you could go, see what happens to you when my curse catches up to you.” His tone goes darker as he says his next words. “See how soon you die when you’re not here, on this lake, to make sure that transformation doesn’t kill you.”

Lovely turned to him, ready to give him another snide remark, but he cut her off. “But by all means, try and leave this valley. The easiest way out is right over there.”

Lovely looked to where he was pointing, and it did look like the simplest way out of the valley. But her curiosity and terror peaked at his words. Would she really die if she wasn’t at the lake when the sun rose?

“Oh, so you’re not leaving then? Shame, that was likely your only chance at escape.” Adam turned quickly, and began to walk away. “I suppose I’ll see you in the morning then, princess. We’ll see who’s right then, hm?”

“It turns out he was right,” Lovely said slowly, tracing the lines of Vincent’s hands, “I stayed through the night to see if his theory was correct, and it turns out that if I don’t stand in the water when the transformation happens, I literally start to suffocate. That morning, I had desperately hoped that he was wrong, and that nothing would happen. But then I started to—what felt like at least—literally die. And I haven’t dared leave the valley since.”

“How do you know that it wasn’t Adam’s magic harming you during that time? What if he was just tricking you into thinking that it was the curse rather than him?”

Lovely gave him a look. “I’d seen Adam’s magic in action enough times before to know what it looked like. This was different, this was his curse, I know it.”

Vincent tried to think through it, but Lovely had already thought through all the possibilities. “I wasn’t going to test it again, even another night when I was sure he wasn’t around. I wasn’t willing to die after all that I had been through to a damn swan curse.”

Vincent chuckled. “Of course you weren’t. You’re too strong to go out like that.”

Lovely smiled, proud of his confidence in her. “And I never gave up hope that you’d come to find me. I prayed every day that somehow, some way, you’d find your way here, and take me home from this nightmare.”

Vincent’s smile turned sad for a moment. “I will, Lovely. I will find a way to get you out of his grasp. But we can’t do it tonight, okay? Too much time has passed since the moon has risen, and if you believe that you must be here when day breaks, then I will not force you to leave. I can return tomorrow, right as the sun goes down, and then I can steal you away—”

Lovely shook her head. “Adam might be here tomorrow. You’ll have to wait for a signal of some kind to show that it’s safe for you to enter the valley.”

Vincent huffed. “And what if he doesn’t show? What if he takes too much time? What if—”

“Vincent, my darling, it will be alright. We just need to make a plan, okay?”

The prince huffed, pouting. “You’re right. So then, what should we do?”

Lovely thought for a moment. “I’m not sure that I know of a way to stop the curse. The only way that I know would work is if Adam were somehow to die. He’s mentioned once before that only death is powerful enough to stop his dark magic.”

Vincent smiled for a moment. “Are you sure that true love’s kiss wont work? It works in fairytales…”

He reached in for his Lovely, pulling her face into his so that he could plant a kiss on her lips. When she squirmed out of his grip, teasing him, he simply peppered kisses all over her face and hands as he could reach.

“Vincent!” She whisper yelled at him, “stop it, please!” But she was smiling all the while, having missed his little kisses and games.

After the moment had ended, the two went back to pondering their plan to get Lovely free. “We must find a way to slay him—but how? When he is here, in the Enchanted Valley, his power is strong. He is able to use nature and the magic of the valley to strengthen his spells. I think that’s why my curse is tied to the water of the lake and why I must be on it when I transform.” “So we need to get him out of the valley, got it. But how do we lure him out of the valley with enough time to ensure that we can break the curse from you?”

She twisted her lips in thought. “My best guess would be that he’d chase me if he found out that I was gone. He wants to use me to control our two kingdoms, so if he doesn’t have me then I’m guessing he’d try and take me back before I could get away.”

Vincent nodded, formulating a plan already in his mind. It all seemed to click into place when his eyes lit up with realization. “I’ve got it! We’ll use the ball as our excuse!”

“The ball?” She asked, unaware of what he was talking about.

“My father is hosting a ball in two days' time. He told me that I had to choose a bride from the guests invited, but now I don’t have to! Because we’re going to get you home by then.”

Lovely tilted her head, unsure of how this fit into their plan. Vincent continued quickly. “We’ll use the ball as our excuse to draw Adam out of the Enchanted Valley. The ball always lasts through the night, so that way we can come get you once you’ve turned back into a human. Then we’ll bring you back to the castle, where Adam will follow, and we can make our move then.”

Lovely listened intently to his plan, thinking through each step and seeing if it worked.

“I can’t think of a single reason Adam wouldn’t follow me to the castle if he knew I had been taken there. He might try to cause a scene to take me back if he knows, especially if he thinks he has time to whisk me back here before the sun rises.”

“So then we’ll have until then to make our move. And if he never shows, at worst we can simply return here before dawn so that you may live to see another day—be it a swan if necessary.”

Lovely smiled softly, but there was a pain there. She didn’t want that for herself. She wanted to be freed from this curse; she wanted to go home, to be with her Prince once more. Vincent wanted that too, only being able to be here with her, hidden away in a hollowed tree by an enchanted lake in the middle of the forest wasn't the life he’d imagined for them when he asked her to be his. He wanted her to be home, safe, with him.

“Wait, I almost forgot!”

Vincent stood, offering Lovely his hand as he did. “I have something for you.”

Lovely smiled then, a real smile, the one that she always gave him when she was catching on to his antics. “What?” She said in a low tone, full of curiosity but still playful hesitation.

“Just follow me, you’ll like it, I promise.”

“I can’t leave the forest for long, the sun will come up soon.”

Vincent brought her hand up to his lips, and kissed the back of it, keeping eye contact. “We aren’t leaving the forest, don’t worry. It’s something I have in the satchel of my horse.”

“Wait, you brought Valor too? Where? I want to see him! I’ve missed him.”

Vincent laughed then, leading her through the woods and to the slope where his horse was tied up. “He’s not the only one I brought. Sam’s here too, though I have no idea where he is.”

“Sam’s here too? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Vincent turned to look at her. “I was a little distracted, if you didn’t remember.”

“Well, where is he?” She scoffed. “I missed him too.”

Vincent looked up the valley to where they were headed. “I’m not sure. I don’t know if I’m mistaken or not, but it appears that his horse is gone too.”

Lovely looked up to where Vincent’s gaze was, and indeed could only see one horse: Vincent’s horse, Valor, who he had named as a child and was teased about by Lovely and Sam every day since. 

“Perhaps he lost you and returned to the city?” She offered, hiking up her skirts to make the trek up the incline.

“It’s possible,” he said, helping her over a boulder protruding from the hill, “but I didn’t think he’d just leave if he returned here and saw my horse here and not me. I thought he’d wait here. I would have loved to bring you back to him had he been here.”

Lovely shrugged, panting from the trek. “There is still time, my love.”

Those six words flooded Vincent’s heart with hope, and love. “Yes, there is.”

When the two finally reached his horse, Vincent and Lovely gathered their breath for a moment, before he reached into his pouch and pulled out something wrapped in cloth.

“What is it?” Lovely asked eagerly, hoping it was food, something sweet from the bakery. At this point, she’d take any kind of food, as she had grown tired of eating small fish and whatever berries or nuts she could find in the woods. There was an apple tree deep within the woods, almost near the edge of the valley, but after a year of only apples, she craved the taste of something else, the tartness of a strawberry, or the citrus of an orange.

“This was supposed to be a bribe to get Sam to leave his apothecary, but I ended up not needing it. Now it’s yours.”

Vincent unwrapped the sweet bread he’d brought, and Lovely couldn’t stop her mouth from watering instantly. The bread was the perfect golden color, with the small flower design baked into the crust. It had gotten a little smashed from being inside Vincent’s bag for so long, but at that moment, Lovely could not have cared less. It was food—real human food—and it was her favorite.

“Wait, I have the glaze here too.”

He reached back into his bag and pulled out a small jar of gold liquid, popping off the lid and scooping some of the glaze onto the bread. Lovely could have cried in that moment. “Vincent Solaire, Prince of the Kingdom of Solaire, I love you so much.”

Vincent let out a hearty chuckle. “I love you too, my Lovely princess. Now here, eat. I can see the hunger in your eyes.”

He tore a piece off for her, and she dug in, happier than he’d seen her since he discovered her tonight. Vincent had a few small bites, but he wanted Lovely to partake in the sweet that she’d missed out on for a year.

When she was finished, the two sat on the edge of the cliff for a while content to simply be held by the other. Lovely had missed Vincent’s laugh, and he had missed her kisses, and her smile. Eventually, the first rays of the sun began to lighten up the sky, and they knew that they must depart.

Vincent offered to escort her back down the cliff, and she accepted, glad to have just a few more minutes with him before returning to her cursed form. They made it back to the edge of the water just as light peeked over the edge and into the valley. They only had a few remaining minutes before she would change. He kissed her as many times as he could, before she pushed him away with a smile to step into the water. She urged him to leave before she changed, claiming it was embarrassing and that she didn’t want him to see. So he set off back up the hill toward his horse, but was unable to keep his eyes off her as the sunlight finally hit the water, and the magic that he’d seen transform her the first time take over her form again—and this time, instead of becoming the woman he loved, she became the beautiful swan that he’d hunted the day before.

He watched her float off into the lake for a long moment, marveling at all that had happened, before setting off towards his castle. He would need to tell Sam everything as soon as possible—if only he knew where he’d gone…

[idiotcurls]

Auld Long Syne, My dear

Chapter  One: Arrival  I also put it in AO3 if you want to read it here

Steve is the last one to arrive at the Byer-Hopper’s New Years Party. Spirits are up, but two people are missing from the festivities. While everyone is dealing with their own aftermath of the Post-Vecna world, the group is trying to move on together, in their own ways. On the dinner table good news are shared but not everyone is thrilled. 

Pairing: StevexEddie but they are idiots, WillxMike but they don’t know that yet, established NancyxRobin  Tags: slow burn, found family, post vecna wordl, dealing with trauma, coming of age, hurt/comfort, eddie is alive obviously 

I guess I just wanted to explore what the characters would be like, after the end of everything (post s4) So i decided on a classic trope, put them all together in one house and see what happens. Enjoy. Also I’m european, so have °C kilometers and me having no idea what americans like to do for new years, except the stuff I see on TV, so.  On Christmas Eve, the moon was hiding behind a thick layer of clouds, it didn't snow on the 25th but  a couple of days before. There was a good enough layer of snow on the ground, that crunched, when you stepped on it. Apparently, if the temperature sinks below -2°, it just stops snowing because it's too cold temperatures.

That didn't make sense in Steve's book, but he went with it, because what else could he do, argue with physics or whatever made that happen?

He was sure he could ask Dustin, to explain it to him, but that cocky little shit would make it into a big thing. 'You're not a child, Steve. Do you have to be told everything, Steve?'

He got out of the driver's seat and closed the door of his Beemer. Above him, the moon was just a thin sickle, almost not visible. Too cold for clouds, when it's too cold for snow.

Steve had been driving for 5 hours at least, turning the car radio on and off, feeling impatient for his arrival. He thought his mind played small tricks on him. When he left Hawkins, the sun was still shining, it got dark so incredibly fast. He didn't like that. He enjoyed the summer more. He looked into the mirror this morning and felt pale.

He also had to stop a couple of times, because sometimes, he didn't trust himself. It felt like he went on auto pilot and just arrived at another junction without driving there. He didn't want to make any mistakes while driving, so he regularly took regular breaks. The last couple of kilometers were easy though, since Steve visited before. And Joyce called him every day for a week beforehand, to remind him of the route and that he had to bring nothing. She just wanted him to be on time for dinner. 

He arrived almost punctual. He was on the phone with Joyce the night before too. She told him the way to the farm another 5 times, how after that one junction he had to turn left, after the gas station by that big farm not right.

“I told Eddie and Jonathan 5 times too, because they have the kids.”, she said. Steve chuckled.

“Don't laugh!”, she said. 

“Don't worry. I'll be there and won't get lost.”, Steve tried to calm her.

“I would much rather have you come with the kids!”, Joyce said. “Like always.”  

This sentiment made Steve feel soft inside. And warm.

Beyond the treeline behind him, the dark blue of the night swallowed the measly rest of daylight, making a mess of shades of cold blue hues with the almost black shapes of different trees before it.

He shivered a bit, longing for the warm embrace of a Joyce Byers household.

Driving towards the house had a homely feeling. He smiled when he made out the shape of the old farm house on the horizon. 

Steve's breath made little clouds, he pulled his scarf tighter around his neck and closed the zip of his winter jacket, before getting the cake and wine he brought for the special occasion out of the back. He also took off his glasses and put them on the dashboard. He wasn’t vain though. 

In front of the farm house several cars were parked already. He recognized Hopper's Truck, Eddie's Van and thought the third one could be Jonathan’s new car. Apparently he finally let the old Ford Galaxy rest in peace. His new car wasn't state of the art. It was practical. It made sense. Like Jonathan always did. He was never a guy who tried to impress others.

He wondered who arrived with whom. A five hour drive with Mike and Dustin together seemed like hell on earth around this time, they seemed to argue a lot more these days, from what Steve noticed.

He did the math of seats in his head, but knew that two kids were missing from the celebrations anyway.

After half of Hawkins was decimated, people left and didn't look back. Even if they just knew varying amounts of the truth, who could blame them. There was nothing really left of the town. Among the people who left without looking back were the Sinclair family.

The Sinclair's took the hush money, signed contracts and moved away. With their kids being in the middle of whatever was going on, they felt an intense amount of guilt. For not noticing, for letting the kids go through the horrors alone. Maybe they felt betrayed, because the other grown ups left them in the dark. In hind-sight it was all so clear. 

The Party has been told, the Sinclair family does not wish to disclose their new location to anyone.

“This can't be true! Lucas and Erica would never do this to us!”, Mike kept on shouting. But the realization sank in slowly. For all of them.

It was a time when ache, pain and healing and defending and then healing again. Steve's heart sank into his stomach, thinking about Lucas and Erica. 

The Party didn't give up on finding them immediately. Eventually, they thought, they got the right address from Murray, but all letters came back unopened. Phone calls went into nowhere.

Mike's rage turned into quiet fury. And Dustin's eagerness to find them into bland disappointment. He wasn’t sure about Max and El. They were more quiet about their emotions, but you could tell, they suffered. 

Laughter was heard coming from inside and warm light was shining out of the windows invitingly. He let the picture in front of him form a memory in his mind. The smell of pine and snow working as an aid, to keep it vivid for the years to come, to help out in the bad times.

The front door opened with a creak and a small shadow emerged in it's frame.

“Guys, I was right! It's Steve!”, Dustin screamed over his shoulder.

Steve smiled and walked towards them, up the snowy stairs with the cracked paint, over the front porch, that inhabited a big Hollywood swing and several wooden chairs.They had painted the wooden ramp Hopper and Will  built for Max's wheelchair. A nice shade of green. Calming.

Dustin stepped onto the porch to greet Steve.

“You have to come upstairs with us, we just cranked open a bottle of coke. Also we watched a movie from the 60s that is sort of weird. Some guy wearing lingerie and they were all singing...” Words bubbled out of him. Steve looked at Dustin's feet, only to find they were just covered by socks.  

“Are you insane? Put some shoes on when you step outside, its December!” Steve exclaimed, patting his back affectionately, before he shoved him back inside with one hand.

He could still remember when Dustin's smile was one without teeth, not only did his teeth grow in since they first met, but it seemed to Steve, Dustin grew a lot taller the last couple of months.

El danced downstairs to greet him, a reluctant Mike behind her. She leaned in to hug Steve. “You made it!”, she said quietly.

El let her hair grow out again the last couple of months. It was shoulder length now. She also wore a cute dress for the occasion, she seemed proud about. She liked cute things now, she told Steve once. 

“We have a Christmas tree in the living room.”, El said, after she broke the hug. “Hopper got it from the forest with an ax, it's illegal to just get one out of the forest for free.”, she added in a matter of fact fashion.

“Uh, is that so...?”, Steve offered confused, but smiled at her sincerity.

“Dude, Hop told you not to tell anyone.”, Mike scolded her after he awkwardly hugged Steve as well. “He's going to make it my fault!” Hopper sure was going to do exactly that. 

The kid seemed to be in a mood already. Mike sighed and went back upstairs, tagging El along, who just smiled and waved to Steve.

“Dustin!”, Mike barked halfway upstairs. Dustin rolled his eyes.

“Talk to you later!”, he said and followed them upstairs. A door closed.

“Hey! Dinners ready soon, don't fill up on other stuff!”, Joyce shouted, sprinting towards the stairs, but the door was already shut and music was playing loudly.

She closed her eyes and furrowed her brows, sighing.

Steve just gave her a 'kids, huh?' look.

“Its so nice you are finally here! Let me take that off you, just put your coat on the hangers.”, ignoring the kids. Steve handed over wine and cake to take off his jacket.”How was the drive?” 

“Drive was shit, like always. Had to stop a couple of times.”

Joyce nodded knowingly. “Better safe than sorry.”

Steve was the last one to arrive at the Byers-Hopper residency, an old farmhouse on the outskirts of another small town, but this one was closer to St. Louise, than Indianapolis. He wasn't able to arrive early, like the rest of the gang between his college courses and cleaning out the old house in Hawkins, there wasn't much time left.

The house smelled like mulled wine, wood smoke and cigarettes- apparently Joyce did not quit smoking, like she promised herself last year. And the year before that, to be exact.

Steve tried to put his jacket on the crowded coat hangers in the hall, but failed, because of the sheer amount of jackets, hats and scarfs already occupying space. Some had fallen to the ground on top of shoes, so he just tried to put his stuff onto them in a sort of neat fashion.

In any other situation he would have  minded the mess, but this time he decided to just smile at it. A sign of a house full of life.  

Meanwhile Joyce looked at the cake's packaging, she took out of Steve's hands before. It was well made and beautiful with a little handle on top, so you could carry it comfortably. It was very european.

Steve was used to having Panettone around Christmas, so he figured it made a lot of sense to bring it, for everyone to try and enjoy.

“Oh wow, is this fancy stuff?”, she said trying to read the label, but noticed, it wasn't english at all.

“It's uh... italian cake, or something. And some red wine, from my parents place. I think it's good?”

Joyce looked at the wines label and raised her eyebrows, looking back at Steve.

“I'm sure it is... Come inside, let’s get you settled in.” Steve took off his shoes and followed Joyce's stern, loving voice obediently into the kitchen. 

The kitchen was cozy and warm. Two big tables pushed together with a lot of seats and a spacious bench to host them all. Warm light. A couple of bags with clothes and toiletries from guests, left near the door, that haven't been put away yet. Steve felt his toes tickling, the warmth spreading life back into his whole body. On the stove two big pots were lightly bubbling, the source of the amazing smell.  

Joyce put Steve's gifts on the counter where several plates of cookies, Salad bowls, bread, sausages and some other bottles already resided. Steve's eyes locked on a bottle of scotch, which he immediately clocked as Hoppers. He had marked the level in the bottle, in case curious kids would try and have some. He knew that move far too well. He also spotted pre-made lasagna, an amount you could feed an army with.

“We have punch and mulled wine. The punch with the apples is for the kids, the mulled wine for us.” She leaned in closer. “Make sure the kids don't get any more of the wine, they already got a cup.” She took her own steaming mug from the counter and shook her had looking at Steve. 

„They think I don't know.”, she whispered and chuckled.

Steve imagined, how they stole the cup, brought it upstairs and all tried a bit, making disgusted faces. The only one he thought, would have liked the taste was Mike, so he made a mental note to keep an eye on that one. But he always did, anyway.

“Thanks for having me. And thanks, for doing... this.”, he gestured towards the kitchen.

His neck was tight from the long car ride, he moved his head around, massaging his shoulder. Joyce poured some mulled wine in a pink cup for him.

“Don't thank me. It was Jim's idea to host this.”, she said, putting the cup into Steve's hands. “You're not a kid anymore. You're allowed the grown up drink now. And you don't have to drive obviously.”, she added, nodding towards upstairs, to accentuate  the fact, that there would always be a place for him to stay at the farm, no matter what.  He thanked her and dove right into the scent of orange, wine and cinnamon.

From outside he heard Eddie's loud, honest laugh and flinched a little. He could make out a fire in the backyard, Hopper, Max and Eddie sitting around it. His stomach dropped.

„How have you guys been?“, Steve asked quietly.

Joyce shook her head and sighed.

„You know. They all still miss them and they are teenagers about it.“, she admitted. Steve knew she mainly meant Mike.

„And Max?“ His eyes drifted towards the kitchen window, seeing her in her wheelchair in front of the fireplace.

„We have good days and we have some bad days as well. But she likes her room downstairs now. In the beginning she didn't want it. She wanted to be upstairs too, I think.“

Steve nodded. Max could be stubborn.

Joyce looked out the window too, with soft eyes.

“Owens wanted her to do physical therapy again in Chicago. But she hates it. There are so many hurt people, she said. From Hawkins, you know. It makes her feel more sick, so we're trying to let her pick the pace.”

Steve could make out light and shadow dancing in accord to the fire in the backyard, it painted a beautiful picture.

„You know... She is such a brave kid. They all are. But it's worse around holidays.“

„It's worse for all of us... I know. But-“, Steve started.

„-but they're still kids.“ Joyce ended Steve's sentence, nodding.

When Max woke up, she was blind. That was the one thing, nobody was able to heal. Physical therapy helped. But Max couldn't walk further than a few steps at a time. Sometimes she uses the wheelchair, on better days just a crutch.

In the first weeks after the earthquakes and Henry's death, nobody knew what to do, so they just tried to hang in there. People of Hawkins who didn't leave immediately, went through some shit too, to quote Dustin.

A part of Steve was happy, other people had to face the facts. It wasn't nice to keep watch, or to be the only one of a handful of people to know exactly what was happening. Hawkins was a nuclear wasteland now, basically. There were people dressed in hazard suits all over the place, trying to make sure whatever happened, would never happen again. And most importantly, stays in Hawkins. He wasn't even sure what the news were reporting anymore and he didn't care.

The portals were canyons in the ground. A whole new generation of several Murray Baumans popped up. But luckily people decided that they were looking for aliens. Another couple of perfectly placed conspiracies later, nobody would question it anymore. Hawkins was a travesty. Keep away. Don’t listen to loons.

When they brought Max to Chicago, they brought Will and Eddie too. Will sat next to her hospital bed a lot, when she would cry out in her sleep and shiver.

„Soldiers have that too.“, Will explained to her one day and Hopper standing behind him, nodded. “That is true.”, he said, with a certain look in his eyes, the kids didn’t understand yet. 

As for Eddie, it was a different situation. He wasn't flayed, he wasn't used by the cruel forces that governed the up side down. He was meant to be soil, he was meant to be eaten. Kept alive to feed upon. That's why his heart rate slowed down, he thought he was dying. That's what dying must feel like, he was sure, he once confined in Steve, his eyes glazed over. In the beginning Steve was angry with Eddie, because he did not stick to the plan and put himself in danger. But in the end, the kettle was talking to the pot or something like that. He would have done the same. He just got lucky.

Max's mum stopped to visit a while before she woke up. When she was still at Hawkin's hospital. Joyce saw her smoke a cigarette, hands shivering, in front of the badly run building, the dust only partly settled over the small town.

The kids figured, she was one of the ones who took the money and moved away too, without looking back. Who knows? Maybe she was threatened. Maybe she couldn't deal with the pain. The only thing they knew was, that Max's mum disappeared

.Except for one small flower bouquet, and a letter that was adressed to 'my brave little warrior', that arrived on Max's birthday last year. Joyce read the letter to Max. She cried heavily, looking younger than she was in her hospital gown. But nobody else got to know what it said.

Half of Max's face was paralyzed too. After Joyce made a very clear statement, of what she thought of the lack of help they received dealing with Max's recovery, she was transferred from Chicago to a facility near New York, to help her learn to walk again and whatever else, she needed. Steve figured, Doctor Owen made sure all of them got the treatment they deserved, even if it was not the treatment they needed.

But no treatment could ever really fix what the years had done to them. There was no therapy for them. Because what happened to them, didn't happen in real life, normally. No therapists making up plans for their specific mental health recovery. There was trauma therapy for the body and trauma therapy for soldiers, They knew about it since the Vietnam war. But that was a different kind of horror. Speaking to psychiatrists about it, sometimes felt like talking to a child, about things only grown ups could understand. 

Steve remembered the long talks on the phone with Joyce, who had lots of sleepless nights. Nights full of tears. Steve was happy to be there on the other end of the line, after he got released, deemed healthy enough. Sometimes he wondered if the demobat poison got to him, lasting effects.  But nobody could tell him for sure, that it was the concussions and not up side down rabies, the kind Robin was afraid of. Bless her. 

Steve stepped closer to the kitchen window, to get a better look at the three of them.

Max was cuddled up in a big blanket, her red hair shimmering from the flames dancing through the dark of the night.

Opposite her on the other side of the fire, Eddie was gesticulating wildly. Max laughed, Hopper next to her was shaking his head, covering his eyes. He wondered what they talked about. They seemed happy enough. 

„Oh, it is you! I thought I heard something annoying.“ Robin peeked through the door to the living room, a sparkle in her eyes. Steve rolled his eyes and opened his arms to welcome her into a hug.

Robin basically jumped into his arms and kissed his cheek. „You took your sweet time!”

„I’m glad to see you too, Robs.“, he said swaying her left to right, like she was a baby.

Robin was wearing a glittery happy new year crown, that jostled up her hair a bit. Her cheeks were red, either from the cold outside or from the wine. Maneuvering him from the kitchen to the spacious living room, the first thing Steve saw, was Nancy and Jonathan sitting on the the couch. Next to them was a small TV, something random playing. They probably were waiting for the live broadcast from Time Square to start. He also glanced at the Christmas tree Hopper stole from the forest. Allegedly.

„Look what the cat dragged in!“ Nancy was already lulling a little bit, her identical happy new year crown sitting slightly off center on her brown curls. She greeted him with a raised „Best dad ever“ cup, that clearly belonged to Hop. „Sit down and have some wine with us.“

Robin looked at her with a mixture of amusement and worry. „I think its time the cat dragged in some water...“, Robin said in a hushed voice, fixing Nancy's crown.

„Hey Nance.“ Steve kissed her forehead and sat on the cozy chair next to Jonathan, being glad that this wasn't his problem anymore, looking at Nance swatting Robin's hand away.

Jonathan took a big sip of his beer and for a second there, Steve felt insecure because he was drinking mulled wine from a cute cup, instead of something more manly, but decided to shake it off. He greeted Jonathan with a nod and a brotherly pat on the shoulder.

„How was the drive?“ Jonathan asked casually. „Hell, it was really icy the last couple of miles.“

They both nodded, indistinct voices of the TV exhilarating the silence.

One could have easily thought, the tension in the room was two ex-boyfriends feeling out some sort of rivalry, over Nancy, but it was far better than that.

Steve was already quite used to Robin and Nancy kissing, being aggressively cute and holding hands, whispering into each others ears. Jonathan wasn't mad about it, Steve knew that for sure, it was more like, that he still was a bit...bewildered. For him it was the first time, seeing them together live, in action and out. He'd get used to it soon enough, Steve thought.

Joyce opened the door to the backyard. „You're going to have to put some more wood into the fire if you want to grill anything tonight!“ She frowned. „Eddie! Could you get some more from the shed? Max! Max, are you cold? Come inside if you're cold!“ She let the door fall into the frame again and left for the kitchen, rattling around with dishes, saying something under her breath about catching death.

Jonathan got up to help his mum prepare sausages for the kids to grill over the fire and get the Lasagnas into the oven, for the people who didn't want to freeze their toes off in the snow outside, but still wanted to eat.

Eddie came back out of the shed with a filled basket of chopped wood and followed Hopper's instructions on how to perfectly place the wood, for maximum fire and heat. He was surprisingly compliant. Steve noticed his big dark green Jacket and the fluffy looking ear-warmers, that surely weren't his, but one of the girl's. He thought maybe El's. 

Steve got up to look out the door. Behind him, Robin tried to get Nancy to down a little bit of water. There was no way in hell, he wanted to be part of that situation, so he slipped into some of Hoppers „backyard shoes“ he left by the door and made his way towards the fire, trying not to get any snow into the brown slippers.

The warm smell of burnt wood and the fire's tender cracking made Steve feel cozy immediately.

Eddie cursed, when he dropped a piece of wood he wanted to staple on top into the pit.

„The trick for these kinds of fires is to stack them up, it's called the log cabin method.“ Hopper explained. „But you need a stable foundation for that. Which Eddie here, didn't provide. That's why he keeps dropping wood and burning his little phalanges.“ He leaned towards Max, a soft tone, when he said the last part of the sentence. She chuckled.

„They're not.... little.“ Eddie sounded defeated, looking at his own hands.

Was this a sort of revenge for all the times Eddie was a nuisance as teenager?

None of them saw Steve approach at first, so he stopped and took in the scene again. Wood-smoke, Pine, mulled wine, cold air. He breathed in and stepped closer. Before he greeted Hop or Eddie, he crouched next to Max and said „Hey, it's Steve.“, before he reached out to take her hand in his, she grabbed him tight.

„Merry christmas, again.“ , Steve said.

“You're a bit late for that.“ She rubbed her thumb over Steve's hand. With his other hand, he shook Hopper's.

„Thanks for having me, Chief.“, Steve teased.

„Don't call me that. Nice to see you too, kid.“

„Are you teaching Eddie how to make a bonfire?“ Steve asked Max.

„Yeah. But he sucks, apparently.“

„I do not suck. I just prefer a different method. The Tepee method.“ Eddie rolled his eyes and then winked at Steve, who had to break eye-contact suddenly, to look at the snow.

His eyes were as sparkly as Robin's. Eddie's hair was falling into his face, framing it like a painting, making soft shadows around his eyes. Steve got up to meet him face to face.

„Hey, man.“ he said.

„Hey man.“, Eddie answered in a mocking tone, a smile escaping his lips.

They were silent for a brief moment, before Eddie opened his arms to embrace Steve in a big hug. Eddie picket him up, not letting him go until Steve squirmed, „Ok, that's enough, I just drove for 5 hours straight. My neck is about to snap.“

Eddie let him down gently, but hugged him a little tighter, before he let go.

There was a year's worth of hugging in the small amount of time after Steve's arrival. It made him feel uncomfortable and at ease at the same time.

„Hey, that Wheeler girl, she still drunk?“ Hopper asked.

„Yeah. I guess. Robin is working on it.“, Steve informed him.

„Fuck me.“, Hopper got up. „I'm going to help Joyce. You boys can sharpen some sticks, for the sausages.“ He lifted the blanket off his shoulders and threw it around Steve.

„Make sure, they don't accidentally kill each other, Max. Knives are sharp.“

„Will do.“, she said.

„And bring my slippers you stole back inside, Harrington. Don't get 'em dirty“ Hop looked at his feet and then winked.

Eddie sat down next to Max and took one of the knives Hop had supplied earlier for sharpening things out of the green toolbox with the chipped off paint.

„Good old fashioned detective work.“ Eddie said, raising his eyebrows at Steve. “Eyes and ears everywhere.”

„He wasn't such a good detective when it came to Robin and Nance.“, Max said.

Steve wrapped himself into the blanket and sat across them, picking up a stick and a knife as well.

„Oh, so you know about all of these things?“, Steve asked, trying to sound casual.

„I'm blind, not dumb, Steve.“, Max supplied in a dry fashion. 

There was a little sting in both Eddie's and Steve's heart. Max was making jokes, she was adjusting quickly. But people around her, had a harder time, walking around eggshells and treating her more like a child than they did with the other kids. She hated that. It took her power away, she said.

„So, how did he find out?“, Steve asked.

„Well.“ Eddie chuckled, chipping away on his stick. „We all arrived yesterday. Joyce was making sure, everyone has a proper place to sleep. The shrimps all decided to sleep on mattresses on the ground in the attic, because that's a thing they do.“

„And Hopper didn't understand, why Nance and Jonathan didn't protest, when he said girls and guys are sleeping separately and he put her in a room with Robin.“, Max added.

„He still thought Nancy and Jonathan were dating. Even though it has been ages.“, Eddie chimed in.

Steve listened to them intently, smiling into himself, seeing Hoppers red face in front of his mind's eye.

„So then,“, Max continued, „he came back from the forest with some twigs and sticks yesterday evening, because Dustin and Will decided they wanted to grill sausages and have s'mores over the open fire today and he saw Nance and Robin kiss on the front porch.“  

„It was very romantic. They were sitting on the Hollywood swing, drinking hot cocoa or something.“ Eddie said and looked intently on the ground, watching the little pieces of wood hit the snow, while he sharpened away.

„It was like he saw mum kiss Santa Clause.“, he sang, avoiding Steve's eyes.

Hop used to be a cop in New York, before he moved back to Hawkins, so Steve thought, two women kissing shouldn't be really big news.

„He was really angry, because he said Joyce didn't fill him in and he made a fool of himself. She laughed it off, saying, that he should pay better attention.“

„That sound amazing.“ Steve said, handling the knife carefully. His motor skills got better with the  exercises he did, but sometimes he still struggled. Plus he left his glasses in the car, which he wasn't too vain to wear all the time. No, sir.

„How was it at your parent's house?“, Eddie asked carefully towards Steve.

He sighed. „You know. Cold, almost empty. I got most of my shit out. Did Wayne not want to come?“

Max kept quiet, listening to them talk, she seemed to enjoy the warmth on her face.

Eddie scoffed. „He is stubborn like a mule. 'I've always celebrated this way.'“ he tried to copy Wayne's voice, swinging the knife around with his right hand.

Max put her hand on Eddies shoulder.

„Don't swing the knife around.“

„Right. I'm sorry.“ He cleared his throat. „So he stayed home. I was surprised the van went all the way without breaking. I already saw myself freeze to death on the side of the road.“

„If El survived in the woods eating Squirrels, you can survive walking a mile to find a phone, don't you think?“, Max said.

Steve chuckled as Eddie turned his head towards her and looked her up and down one eyebrow raised. „We might have to take you inside, the cold is getting to you, Mayfield.“

A loud crack in the fire seemed to have spooked Steve for a second there. He half-dropped the knife mid-motion and cut into his thumb, cursing.

„Jesus Christ! Fucking shit!“

„What happened?“

„Steve cut himself.“, Eddie answered and produced a tissue out of his jacket. He knelt in front of Steve and took his hand into his to look at the cut.

„Is it bad? Should we go inside to get Joyce?“ Max tried to hide her worry.

„No it's nothing. I'm just an idiot, apparently.“ Steve said calmply, investigating the cut in the light of the fire..

„It's not deep.“, Eddie reassured.

Before anything else could happen, Eddie brought Steve's Hand towards his mouth and sucked the blood off his finger, without hesitation and placed the tissue around the cut, to stop the bleeding.

Steve's mind went blank for a second, when he felt Eddies tongue on his skin. Eddie didn’t look up at Steve. Steve wasn't sure if it was the physical fire in front of them, or some special fire, that was inside Eddie.

„Hold that. Stop the bleeding.“, he said, while he held the tissue around Steves finger. 

„Was that... is that sanitary?!“ Steve uttered finally.

„Probably not. Let's get inside and find a band-aid.“

Eddie got up and loosened the breaks on Max's wheelchair to pushed her towards the  house.

“Come on, Harrington. Last one in the house is uh,... a chicken!“, he shouted over his shoulder.

Steve looked up from the tissue around his thumb. He shook his head and smiled, watching Eddie make racing-car noises as he pushed Max up the ramp.  

**

Okay, so Auld Long Syne means long long time ago or something, right? And they sing  Should auld acquaintance be forgot And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot And days of auld lang syne?

And I was like, yes this is my brand of SAD. But they are going to GROW together as a FAMILY and Steve and Eddie are gonna KISS and be GAY

[killingitreservoirdogsstyle]

Hey! If you have time I was just curious how you think orange would propose to his SO? He’s so cute, I can’t even!

Hello anon! Thanks for your question, I super appreciate it! I would love to write this up, so sorry for how long it took me to reply. I’ve had an interesting summer like you wouldn’t believe, so I’ve not been able to get online much to write which is devastating for me! Nonetheless, I love this ask and I can totally come up with something for it! ( GIF is not mine, by the way! ) 

Personally, I feel that Orange would be quite the romantic about the entire situation--after all, you’re his significant other and he does not want to screw this up in any way for the both of you. As a result of this, he gets jittery, nervous, and hyper-vigilant about every little detail; micromanaging the entire affair so it all falls into place just right. 

He frames his proposal as a dinner date at your favourite restaurant, taking you out and acting gentlemanly and cuddly with you. Freddy even combs his hair back, a rarity for him considering he hates the way product feels. ( I know how that is, I have to use it at times and it’s exasperating to say the least ) He looks absolutely sweet, his arm in yours and wearing a huge boyish smile on his face. You two talk, laugh, cringe, and joke around over your favourite meals, wining and dining like a king and queen in their royal court. The whole world is practically the stage for the love you two share. When you’re finished, he will walk you to a nearby park as the cloudless night sky covers Los Angeles in darkness. The moon is a full silvery waxy orb hanging above you two like a spotlight for what is about to happen. Freddy leads you over to a familiar oak tree where your shared initials are carved in a heart in the bark; a memento of your very first date years beforehand. 

He drops onto one knee, popping you the question with a beautiful ring to match his enthusiasm. He stutters it out, tears forming in his eyes from how anxious he is, launching into a speech right from the heart he didn’t even know was there. 

“ Y/N L/N, love of my life. Beautiful/handsome/gorgeous light in my world, the one and only for me. I’m not good with words. I’m not a prince or a billionaire. I can’t cook for shit, I’m still a kid at heart, and I work to fight crime day and night. I know all these things might not be exactly picturesque or ideal, I get that. But baby, I know one thing; I love you more than anything in this world. You are my sanctuary, my home, my everything, the entire reason I keep going even when I don’t have it in me. Please, I’m not asking you to be hasty. I want you to think about it. But I ask you, will you give me the privilege of being more than a friend. More than a best friend, more than a boyfriend. Will you please be my wife/husband/partner for as long as we live? Grow old with me and be mine for my entire life?”

You don’t even need to think twice before throwing yourself onto him, breaking out into tears and sobbing you will marry him. Freddy smiles, crying alongside with you and sliding the ring onto your finger. In that moment, your hearts become one, forever bonded from then on in love beyond imagination. 

I hope that this was okay, anon! Please let me know if it isn’t and I’ll gladly fix them up however you’d like! Thank you again for the ask, anon, I super loved this idea! And thank you everyone for your continued support, reblogs, likes, and comments, even during my absence. I promise I’ll try to get better at posting stuff in an orderly time! Lastly, I wanna tag my absolute best friend and ride or die who has been a light in my life, @itscrimsonsixx for all her support, love, and just being a beautiful person! This blog would not be the same without her and all of you guys! Love you all a ton and hope you’re having the best time during the rest of your summer! Keep those reqs and asks coming, I love reading them and writing them up!

[pregnant-piggy]

The most wonderful time of the year (I)

Remus Lupin x reader, Hogwarts professor AU

this is part of A Very Fictional Christmas

words: 3.7k

warnings: mentions of food and alcohol

A/N: i love this plot and i will be forever dreaming of professor remus. let me know what you think!

“And that is all for today! Now I know tomorrow is the final day of classes before the holidays, but I would really appreciate it if you read chapter seven for tomorrow’s lesson. Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

The students in your class cleaned out their desks and while discussing their plans for the holidays or whining about the homework you had given them they left the classroom one by one. As the last student exited the room, you sighed and sunk into your chair, throwing your wand on the desk in front of you. You rubbed your hands over you face and took a deep breath.

Teaching in the week before the Christmas break was always more difficult than during the rest of the year. However, you couldn’t blame your students; just like them, you couldn’t wait for two weeks off. The holidays at Hogwarts were always the highlight of your year, no matter how sad that sounded.

You had been teaching Advanced Charms for three years at Hogwarts now. Although you were considerably younger than most of the other professors in the staff—some had even taught you when you had been a student—they had been very welcoming and you had found your place along them easily. As a student you had spared little thought to your professors’ private lives, beyond the numerous rumours of course, and it had delighted you to be part of the work-gossip and to learn about McGonagall’s summer house at the beach side and Flitwick’s passion for French pastry.

As professor of Advanced Charms you mostly taught to fourth-years and higher, but it was more than often that Flitwick called you in to help him with his own classes, so your face was familiar to almost all the students at Hogwarts.

With a soft groan you lifted yourself from the chair and cleared the desk. With a flick of your wand the text on the chalkboard disappeared. You collected the papers and books and tucked them under your arm, before you left the classroom.

The decorations in the corridors were as joyful as ever. The suits of armour were decorated with hats and scarves and were singing Christmas songs at the top of their lungs, much to the dislike of professors who had one standing close to their classroom. Mistletoe had been hung from the ceiling and arches, and was avoided by students at all costs. Fir branches decorated the railing of the stairs, filled with ornaments or garlands in the colours of the four houses.

“Look alive, professor,” someone said to you and you whirled around.

Remus was standing with a big smile behind you and you sighed while trying to conjure a smile on your face. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

���Don’t worry,” Remus laughed and he walked up to you. “I’m sure no one else would’ve noticed.”

You gave Remus a thankful smile and walked with him to your room, where you dropped off your books before you’d go to dinner.

Remus had joined the staff this year, as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, after the last one had retired. You knew him from your student years at Hogwarts, but he had been two years ahead of you so you had never really interacted with him. On his first day, however, he had stepped at you and told you that he recognised you. As the two youngest professors you had quickly found a friend in the other and the other professors had laughed as they had said that it was just like having two teenagers in the staff when you were together.

“Tough day?” Remus asked as you walked towards the Great Hall.

“You know how those kids get when the holidays approach,” you said and Remus hummed in agreement. “I almost got into an argument with a fourteen year old over whether or not we should close the window.”

Remus laughed warmly and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye. The golden curls bounced on his head as he moved and you had to resist the sudden urge to reach out and touch them.

You entered the Great Hall as dinner was in full swing and walked with Remus past the tables of students. This year, too, the space had been decorated abundantly. The twelve huge trees stood along the walls of the hall, full to the brim with ornaments and garlands. From the ceiling little snowflakes whirled down, disappearing into nothing just above the students’ heads. Around the window edges glittering garlands hung that reflected the sun when it was out. Now, however, it was dark and they glistened in the shimmering light from the floating candles above the tables.

During your dinner you talked with Flitwick about the exams for after the holidays and listened as Remus talked with Sprout about her Christmas plans. Finally you relaxed a little after a long day and by the time dinner was over you had let go of the frustration and were laughing at Remus’ animated story on one of his students.

After dinner you were walking back with Remus to your rooms, that were not far apart. A few students lingered in the corridors after dinner, but most had probably gone to their common rooms, enjoying one of the last nights before their friends would head home for the holidays.

“So are you coming to the Christmas drink tomorrow?” Remus asked when you arrived at your room.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it!” you said and Remus smiled widely. “That and the first day of the summer are the only two days you’ll see Minerva drunk and believe me, you don’t want to miss out on that!”

Remus laughed and shook his head, while you opened your door. “Good night, Remus.”

}(){ }(){ }(){

You were sitting on the edge of a student’s desk as you talked with Marianne and Quincy, two sixth-years. Behind you a group of students was playing hangman on the chalkboard and in the corner of the room the others were talking loudly about everything but Advanced Charms.

After half an hour of serious class, you had stopped and given your students the freedom to do whatever they liked. Thus, you were talking with two of your students while the group behind you cheered as someone had guessed a right letter.

“And professor Lupin was at Hogwarts with you, wasn’t he?” Marianne asked, as you were talking about some of the professors.

“He was two years ahead of me, but yes,” you said. “We never talked actually, but he said he recognised me when he first got here.”

Quincy and Marianne smirked at each other and you laughed. “What does that mean?”

“Well, come on, professor,” Quincy said, raising his eyebrows.

“What?”

“It’s kind of obvious he likes you,” Marianne chuckled.

You started laughing and shook your head. “Don’t be absurd, Remus doesn’t like me.”

“Everyone sees it, you know?” Marianne said. “He is always around you—”

“—and when he mentions you he smiles,” Quincy added, leaning over his desk a little. “During dinner he is always looking at you.”

“And we always see him waiting for you at the end of the day.”

“Yeah! After McGonagall and Hooch, you’re our favourite couple!”

You huffed smilingly and shook your head. From outside the classroom the bell rung, indicating that the class was over. You got up from the desk and said, before turning back to the front of the class, “Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, but professor Lupin and I are not a couple.”

Marianne and Quincy shot each other a smile before they nodded at you and you rolled your eyes with a laugh.

“Everyone, happy holidays! I will see you all in two weeks! Enjoy your break, but please don’t forget the exams!”

The students left the classroom quickly to go to their next class and within a minute you were surrounded by silence. The sixth-years had been your last class of the day, but you had some papers left to grade and you wanted to do that now, rather than during the holidays.

You walked through the corridors to your room and passed Remus’ classroom when the sweet scent of chocolate filled your nose. You stopped and turned around, following the scent back to the door of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Silently you pushed open the door.

Inside everyone was sitting with a mug on their desk, while watching Remus give a lecture on vampires. Instead of heading back to your own room, you stepped inside and closed the door behind you. You sat on one of the empty desks against the wall and listened to Remus.

You loved the way Remus told stories. It didn’t matter if he was talking about his own childhood or giving a lecture like now, he always made sure his stories stayed interesting. He had a calm voice and often you found yourself listening to him even if he wasn’t at all talking to you.

Remus was telling his class the story of Tarillo, the supposed vampire minister, when he noticed you sitting in the back of the room. He stopped talking and a small smile appeared on his face.

“It seems like we have gathered an extra listener,” he said to the class and the students all turned around to look at you.

“You cannot expect me to not enter when I smell hot chocolate,” you laughed and put your hands up in surrender.

Remus shook his head with a laugh and continued with his story, but the entire time his eyes kept flashing back to you. You listened with great interest to his lecture, answering his looks with a smile of encouragement. From the corner of your eye you could see a few heads turning to you every once in a while.

After the class, you walked up to Remus’ desk, watching as he collected the mugs. Moving aside some papers you sat on the desk, your fingers curling around the edge.

“Hot chocolate, really?” you asked with a grin.

“At least I actually taught my students something,” Remus said, his tone indicating that he knew that you hadn’t even tried to teach today, and then he turned around to you. “There is some left. Would you like some?”

You nodded and Remus filled two mugs with the warm drink, handing one to you. He leaned next to you against the desk and closed his eyes in delight as he took a sip from his drink. When he lowered his mug he had a smudge of chocolate above his lip and you giggled.

“You have some… yeah,’ you said as Remus tried to lick the chocolate away. “Here, let me.”

You reached out and wiped the chocolate away with your thumb, resting the palm of your hand shortly on Remus’ cheek. Remus’ golden eyes stared into yours and you lingered before you withdrew you hand. The warm feeling that filled your body you feared had nothing to do with the hot drink in your hands. Remus smiled thankfully at you and then turned to look ahead of him, but you didn’t fail to see the blush that crept on his face.

Cursing yourself for letting your mind go there, you finished the rest of your drink in silence and hopped off the desk after.

“I have some work to do before tonight,” you said, giving Remus a smile. “Thank you for the drink, Remus.”

“Of course,” Remus smiled and nodded at you. “Any time.”

}(){ }(){ }(){

The corridors were busy with students who were running late for dinner, as you squeezed yourself through the crowd to reach the teachers’ lounge. Twice you nearly collided with a student, but you didn’t blame them. The last dinner before the Christmas break was always the busiest one, for most of the students would be going home the next day.

The teachers’ lounge wasn’t decorated like the rest of the castle yet. Usually it was left to the professors themselves and that meant that until the holidays the room was just as plain as the rest of the year. However, when you entered the room, professor Vector and Flitwick were desperately trying to set up a tree while arguing about what to put where.

“No, no, it definitely has to go on the right!” Vector said, using her wand to summon the decoration from Flitwick’s hand.

“And what do you suggest we put here then?” Flitwick asked, as he took the ornament back.

As Vector came up with a sarcastic answer to his question, you walked to the other side of the room, where you sat down next to Sprout on one of the couches near the fireplace.

“They have been going at it for half an hour now,” she sighed, shaking her head.

You chuckled and looked back at the two professors. “Shouldn’t someone go help them?”

“Oh dear, no!” Sprout cried out. “Rolanda tried to interfere and she nearly got knocked over by a flying Christmas angel!”

You looked over to the corner of the room where Hooch was standing with Pince, casting wary glances at the fighting people near the tree.

“A drink, darling?” Trelawney asked as she sat down on the sofa opposite of you and gave you a bottle of Butterbeer.

Quickly you comforted and talked with your colleagues about the students, their holiday plans, and whether or not the classroom on the third floor should get some sort of heating system for it was always freezing there. Slowly the other professors and the rest of the staff trickled in, and soon the room was filled with people and the arguing from Flitwick and Vector wasn’t audible anymore.

You had seen Remus enter, but you had been talking with Hagrid and after that with Slughorn so you hadn’t had the chance to go up to him. At the thought of doing so, a few jittery nerves appeared in your stomach and you wondered if you had maybe drunk too much already.

When you met eyes with Remus from across the room, it was too late to think of the nerves and you crossed the space to him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

There was a short silence before Remus asked, “Are Filius and Septima alright?”

Flitwick and Vector had resolved to silence and were now decorating the rest of the tree with grumpy faces.

You chuckled. “Don’t worry, they’re like this every year. They’ll come around soon enough.”

Remus raised his eyebrows as he looked back at the professors and then shook his head before he turned to you with a smile. Your mind flickered back to what Marianne and Quincy had said that afternoon, but you refused to give in to the thoughts. Instead you blinked twice and then stepped closer to Remus.

“So, what’s the gossip?” you whispered.

It was a thing he and you did whenever you had a meeting with most of the professors. With such a big group as this it was impossible not to have quarrels and when everyone was together it was the perfect time to find them. The first time you had done it, it was because you had found out that Flitwick and McGonagall had an ongoing competition to see who would get the most students in their house at the beginning of the year. The time after that it was Remus who had told you that Sinistra had a secret stash of whiskey in her office. From then whenever there was a meeting, you or Remus would as what the gossip was.

Remus lowered his head to you. “Binns is no longer allowed to enter the library because he scares everyone by floating through the bookcases. Pince was furious.”

You laughed softly and turned your head so you could look at the teachers. Remus’ mouth was close to your ear as he continued and you tried not to show the shivers it gave you.

“Hagrid lost one of his creatures and it was found in the quidditch broom closet, so Rolanda filed a complaint with Dumbledore.”

“And?”

Remus sighed and you felt the hot air along your skin. “Nothing, she hasn’t heard anything of it.”

“Okay, my turn,” you said and lifted your head closer to Remus so you wouldn’t have to talk so loud. “Sybill and Aurora got into an argument over the accuracy of astrology and Sybill supposedly has thrown one of her glass balls at her.”

“No!” Remus gasped and he turned his head to you. Suddenly he was so close that your noses were almost touching and a surge of blood rushed to your cheeks. You sucked in your breath and quickly turned your head away.

“Yeah, Aurora was so angry she covered Sybill’s windows so she couldn’t look outside at the stars anymore.”

Remus chuckled. Then he brought his face nearby, so his lips were almost against your ear, and whispered, “Filch as asked Pince on a date.”

Your eyes widened at the news, but your elevated heart rate had nothing to do with Filch nor Pince. The feeling of Remus’ breath against your skin made your heart almost jump out of your chest, and the thought of how his lips would feel crossed your mind momentarily before you shook your head and forced yourself to return to the room.

“No! He did?” you asked and then you hit Remus’ playfully on his chest. “Why would you save that for the last?”

“Save the best for last, not?”

“I want to hear all about that over tea tomorrow,” you said to Remus and then nodded with your head to the rest of the room. “But I fear people have caught on us.”

“Who—” Remus started but he was cut off as Slughorn appeared in front of you.

“What are you two whispering about?” he asked, gesturing wildly with the glass in his hand, nearly throwing all the wine over you and Remus.

“Secret Santa,” you quickly lied, carefully taking the glass from Slughorn. “Remus has trouble finding the right gift, so I offered my help.”

Slughorn squeezed his eyes at you but then he shrugged, clearly believing your lie. He turned around, but not before loudly saying, “Don’t bother if you have Rolanda. She throws everything away anyway.”

From across the room Hooch’s face appeared. “That was one year, Horace! And you got me an autographed photo of yourself!”

Remus raised his eyebrow at you and you shrugged.

“That was before my time,” you mumbled.

}(){ }(){ }(){

As the night drew close to an end, you were sitting with McGonagall on the couches near the fireplace, watching as Flitwick and Pomfrey played a game of chess. Flitwick was losing miserably but he refused to give up, while Pomfrey just dragged more and more pieces off the board.

“Knight to F3,” Flitwick said, and you and McGonagall hissed simultaneously at his mistake.

Pomfrey’s queen graciously knocked the horse over, leaving Flitwick with only three pieces left.

Most of the professors had gone back to their rooms already and the teachers’ lounge now had the same cosy atmosphere it usually had. Someone had put on music and softly Christmas songs were playing through the room, as someone occasionally hummed along.

A figure crossed the room towards you and sat down on the armrest next to you. Without looking up you recognised Remus and carefully rested against his side. He placed his hand on your shoulder and rubbed your arm.

“I’m going to sleep so much tomorrow,” you muttered and you felt Remus chuckle.

“We’re still on for tea, right?” he asked.

“Of course, I need to hear the entire story!”

Across from you McGonagall laughed as Flitwick’s king got dragged off the board. This one leaned back into the couch and let out a loud sigh. McGonagall patted his knee and yawned.

“You’re right, Filius,” she said. “I think it’s time to call it a successful night and go to our rooms, before we start making irresponsible choices.”

Pomfrey snorted. “You mean like Horace claiming he could drink an entire bottle of Firewhiskey at once?”

McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose as she sighed. “I’m going to need the holidays to recover from just that.”

Remus got up from the armrest and extended his hand to you, pulling you from the couch. He looked around the room and shrugged.

“We’ll clean up tomorrow,” he said and then cast a glance at the others. “I think it’s better we all get some rest.”

You followed Remus out of the room, saying goodbye to those who were left. When you stepped through the door, the cold December air of the castle hit you like a wall and you shivered. The lights had been turned down already and you squeezed your eyes to see around you, taking a while to let them get used to the darkness after the light from the teachers’ lounge.

“When you said it would get wild, I didn’t expect this,” Remus said as you walked back to your rooms.

“Wait till you see us at the graduation party,” you chuckled. “Last year Filius danced on top of the table.”

Remus laughed and shook his head. He was walking right beside you and you wanted to take his hand in yours, longing for that same feeling when he had been so close to you earlier that evening. However, before you could even think of it more clearly, you had reached your room.

“I had fun tonight,” Remus said, as you opened your door.

You turned around. “Me, too.”

There was a silence filled with tension as you stood there, just one step away from him. You looked into his eyes and it took all your strength not to close the space between the two of you. Your hand was holding onto the doorframe and your nails buried into the wood as you took a deep breath.

Somewhere in the hallway a door closed and you and Remus were pulled from the stare. Remus cleared his throat and you scratched your neck.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said, flashing you a smile.

“Yes. Goodnight Remus.”

- - - - - - -

taglist:

general HP: @harry-pottery-barn @potters-heart @kingalrdy @missswriter @figlia--della--luna @sexysirius @awritingtree @bi-andready-tocry @lilulo-12fanfiction @ananad1 @treestarrrrrrrr @your-hispanichufflepuff @thefandomplace @theeicedamericano @girllety @swearingsolemnly @weasleydream @secretsthathauntus @amixedwitch @izzyyy-1 @gryffindorgirl @kitkatkl @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @nyotamalfoy @dandyylions @d22malfoys​ @xxinvisiblexx​

marauders: @tomshollandz​​​​​ @with-love-anu​​​​​ @fific7​​​​​ @cheoco​​​​​ @classicrocketqueen​​​​​ @natashxromanovfreads​​​​​ @lonegryffindor2005​​​​

MASTERLIST

[fictionfunshop]

Wake up call - One Shot

Inspired by this gif-set by @reidgifs.

Him resting his leg on the chair does stuff to me.

18+ / smut!

You didn't even need to open your eyes to know that he wasn't next to you. You shimmed your hand across the bed to find his side cold and let out a whine. You knew some cases took their toll on him, and you could hear it in his voice when he called you from the plane earlier inviting you over. It was times like this you wondered why he does this job at all, why put yourself through all that horror without even a good outcome. Your eyelids flutter open and look around the room as best as you could, noticing a slither of light coming from the bedroom door.

You stretch over to his side of his bed and cuddle into his pillow, hoping that his smell will get you back to sleep. For someone who spends most of his time in motels and sleeping in chairs, the fact that Spencer had a comfortable bed didn't surprise you; nothing about his apartment did. After months of dating and sleepovers being exclusively at yours, he finally let you come over, spluttering on about how dirty it was, but you didn't care. Building his trust had been the most important thing. The fact that he let you through the door made your heart burst and fall more in love with him than you thought possible. It also signalled a change in him; you noticed his shoulders relaxed a little when you cuddled into him on the couch and how much lighter his laugh was bouncing off his dark green walls in his safe space. You glanced to the door, hoping to see any sign that he was joining you again, but after a few silent moments, you decided to try to find him. You slipped out of the sheets, draped one of his shirts over your body and tip-toed out into the light.

That's where you found him. He’s sitting by his desk, surrounded by books and case files, wearing a t-shirt, his boxers, and a guilty look on his face.

"Did I wake you?" the guilt amplified on his features. You shook your head before you join him, wrapping your arm around his shoulders nuzzling into his neck.

"Just missed you," You can feel him smile as he rubs your arm. "What has you awake?"

"This last case…I. think I missed something, so I've been looking through some books I was reading last summer," You knew he was on a roll and not to say anything until he calmed down a little, so you sat down on the corner of his desk, you let a small smile escape when his hand finds you thigh, and his thumb rubs circles.

"Spencer," You take his hand to your chest, which grabs his attention. "I know I'm probably out of line when I say this, but it's over. You did everything you could; you all did."

"Sometimes I feel like I didn't do enough… I'm the genius. I'm meant to know everything..." He says the last part in a whisper as he looks up at you with his wide brown eyes, and your heart breaks a little.

You take his face into your hands, your fingers tangling into his hair. You know he didn't want an answer to the question. He just wanted someone to listen to him. It worried you to think of a time before when he would probably sit here in darkness for hours, pouring over files with no sound other than pages turning. He buries his head into your chest and wraps his arms around your waist. You twist random strands of his hair between your fingers, noticing that there's an auburn fleck when it catches the light. He lifts his head from your chest; his eyes glance at your attire. You keep your fingers in his hair, moving it away from his eyes.

"Is that my shirt?" You nod your head, "Looks good on you…" his hands move underneath to your bare skin and just like that, the files and books around him are forgotten, his eyes are starting to cloud over.

He stands up from his chair and moves between your legs, and you shift your position on his desk so you are perched in place. He leans down and captures your lips in his; the minute your tongues meet, he lets out a groan, and his large hands find the small buttons of his shirt; you shrug it from your shoulders, leaving you on his desk in your lacy underwear. He breaks away from the kiss, his gaze trailing all over your body.

"You are so beautiful like this…" his hands' ghost your ribcage before finding your hard nipples, "You know I'll think of this every time I sit here from now on…" he bends his head down and flicks his tongue over your nipple, his nimble fingers working the one, not in his mouth. You let out a gasp, your nails finding his shoulders as he switches, his teeth now grazing the sensitive bud. You can feel a wet patch being left on the wood underneath you.

"Spence…" you whine.

You know he's smirking because he knows you so well. His free hand travels down to your underwear where he cups you; you let out a whine when his hand connects with you. He breaks away from your chest, and you both lock eyes.

"Fuck me, you're soaked…" he dips his fingers beyond the lace and circles your entrance, your hips snap forward to try and get some relief.

He smiles as he gathers your juices and circles your clit lightly, your name cursing from his lips now. You whine as he removes his fingers before he tugs your underwear down your legs. He opens the top drawer of the desk and drops them in.

"You could've asked; I would've given you a clean pair."

"But I want these ones", he winks at you.

You let out a chuckle before he grabs your hips and pulls you to the edge. He kneels between your legs, throwing them over his shoulder before he dives in, his tongue dipping between your folds.

"Jesus Christ!" You can feel him trace shapes with his tongue on your clit, and you're in heaven; one of your hands is tangled in his hair again, your other hand keeping you in place on the desk.

You can feel your orgasm building quickly in the pit of your stomach when his fingers start pumping you.

"So close – fuck Spencer!" he moans against your clit as you feel your orgasm wash over you, your legs shaking as he continues his assault while you come down from your high.

He pulls back from between your thighs, his lips and chin glistening and a massive smile on his face.

"Did I do well baby?" You nod your head as he takes off his t-shirt and slips down his boxers.

That’s when you see how hard he is. Your hand reaches out to touch him as you slowly pump him in your hand, his pre-cum leaking into your palm with every movement.

"I need you inside me", you croak out; you both hear the needy tone in your voice.

He replaces your hand with his own, lining himself at your entrance before he slides in slowly. You let out a cry when he snaps his hips forward; he steadies himself with one of his arms on the desk, the other holds your hip in place as he fucks you so slow and deep you can feel the tears prick the corner of your eye.

"You feel so good baby," he moves the hand on your hip to your jaw, smashing your lips together.

His encouragement made you tug on his hair and bit his lip as he starts to pick up the pace a little; it makes you wonder if he was made for your pleasure. He feels that good inside you, hitting your cervix with every stroke, stretching you to your limit in the most delicious way possible. He pulls away from you, and you can see the concentration on his face, the vein on his forehead now visible as he tries to keep himself together. You dip your hand between your bodies and circle to bundle of nerves between your legs, and a loud moan escapes your lips as you tighten even further around him.

"So close…so fucking good…" you mumble, almost giving yourself permission to fall apart, your nails digging into his supporting arm as you collapse back on top of the papers on his desk.

Through your haze, you can feel him pull out, and he coats your tummy and chest with his orgasm; he catches himself from falling on top of you with his steady hand. He must notice the look on hour face.

"I don't think Hotch would appreciate my cum all over the files" you let out a giggle as he pecks your lips, "Stay here, and I'll clean you up."

You close your eyes, and you hear his feet patter to his kitchen and grabbing some tissue and a damp cloth. You snap your eyes open when you feel him wipe himself from you, him gazing at you with complete adoration in his eyes.

You always hope that he can see the same in yours.

"C'mon, sleeping beauty, we can pass out for a few hours before we have to get up again." He pulls you from his desk and back to bed.

[outerbankies]

arm’s length — rafe cameron

request: “You made these cupcakes for me?” + “You don’t need to leave so soon.” with Rafe please :)

pairing: rafe x kook!reader

warnings: alcohol, drugs, swearing

a/n: just a short and sweet one besties! i was trying to decide when to make rafe's birthday and i picked end of summer just for the plot, which makes him either a leo or a virgo lmao. thanks for the request anon :)

my writing

Growing up with Rafe Cameron meant a lot of things. It meant summer vacations at the Camerons’ Bahamas villa and winter breaks at your parents’ cabin in Telluride. It meant you always had a built-in date to Midsummers, prom, and homecoming whenever you two didn't want to put in the effort of finding proper dates. It meant sneaking out of fancy family dinner parties to smoke joints on the roof together and complain about how hard it was to be a rich kid sometimes. It meant you always had someone to pretend to be your boyfriend when you were done being hit on by tourons, and it also meant you were usually on call to pick up Rafe when he got too drunk. Growing up with Rafe meant keeping secrets for each other, being there for each other, and a mutual understanding for most things about growing up on Figure 8.

But it didn’t mean you had to like Rafe. Not all the time.

And as you maneuver through the sea of G-Wagons, Range Rovers and convertibles packed into your driveway, overflow from the Cameron residence across the street, that last part rang true.

“Gonna kick his ass,” you mutter to yourself, dodging tipsy blonde girls in bikinis and ignoring your classmates that wave 'hi' to you. Your hands were starting to sweat where they held the disposable tin in your hands, trying your best to hang onto them as you fought your way through the crowd.

“Where’s the birthday boy?” you ask some random group of girls, who scoff over your less than party-ready attire, pointing you vaguely in the direction of the kitchen.

“Is that Y/n?” someone calls, and you huff out a breath of air, painting on your fakest smile as you enter the kitchen. Smack dab in the center of the raucous group of board short clad boys is your friend Rafe Cameron, cheeks flushed red, same backwards cap on his head as usual at these things.

“Y/n, you came!” he greets, immediately parting the sea of his friends to come and hug you. You push him off with a hand to his abs so he doesn’t squish the tin of cupcakes, feeling his muscles jump under your touch. He looks down, eyes lighting up in childlike wonder. “You made these cupcakes for me?”

“Cupcakes?” Kelce interrupts, taking the tray out of your hands and cracking the top off. “Do they have weed in them?”

“Nope... no, just cupcakes, Kelce,” your eyes widen. He rolls his eyes but grabs one anyways, the other boys in the kitchen following suit then quickly exiting, leaving you alone in the kitchen with Rafe and an empty cupcake tin.

“These are so good. You outdid yourself this year, Y/n/n.”

“You can thank Charlotte. Wheezie told her it was your birthday and she begged me to help her make them for you. But then she got shy and made me bring them here by myself.”

He laughs out loud at that. “That’s so sweet.”

“I’ll let her know you said that,” you smile despite yourself at the fond expression on his face. “And next time you decide to make my driveway overflow parking, can you let me know so I can get my car out first?”

He blushes, finishing the rest of his cupcake and throwing the wrapper back in the tin. “Sorry, Y/n/n. I knew you wouldn’t come on your own. Thought I might make it so you can't do anything beyond walking distance.”

“Charming. I have to babysit on the Cut today, Rafe. You knew that,” you say, pushing him on the arm. He let's you push him, trying not to look guilty. “Could you just tell a couple of them to back out?”

“Mmm,” he looks behind your shoulder, assessing the crowd in his living room and backyard. “That’s probably not safe. Just take my truck.”

You hold your hand out for his keys, and he looks at you in confusion.

“What, right now? You don’t need to leave so soon, do you?”

“Rafe, I told you I had work.”

“No you just hate me,” he pouts, already leading you up to his room where you know his truck keys are. You used to be intimidated driving the huge vehicle, but at this point, you’d driven it so many times. Your favorite thing to do was to “forget” to adjust the seat and wheel back to their normal positions, giggling every time Rafe texted you that he hit his head and his knee trying to get in his truck after you drove it. You were still the only one who he let drive his car, after he rode with you the first few times, of course.

“I just made you cupcakes.”

“Yeah, because of Charlotte,” he grumbles, opening the door to his bedroom. “Maybe I should’ve invited her instead.”

“She’s a minor.”

“Yeah, didn’t think that one through,” he winces, shaking his head.

You stand at the doorway of his room, watching him walk over to his desk to grab them for you. He acts like he's going to toss them, then snatches them out of your reach as soon as you go to grab them.

“Do you have to go? It’s my birthday,” he whines.

“Rafe,” you sigh in exasperation. “I told you I couldn’t stay. I can come back in a few hours if you’re still conscious.”

He doesn't look satisfied, like he'd pulled out all the stops and you were still going to leave him. “Bet you would’ve changed your plans for that stupid touron though.”

You freeze, settling back from where you were standing on your tippy-toes to grab his keys. “What?”

“Nothing, forget it,” he says, folding the keys into your hands. He tries to brush past you but you stop him with a hand to his chest.

“Are you talking about Micah?”

“Is that his name?”

“He went back to Florida like two weeks ago.”

Rafe looks confused, readjusting his hat on his head and stuttering, “Well, did you guys, like—are you...”

“He’s a touron, Rafe, fun for one summer and that’s it. We weren’t even dating.”

“Oh.”

With that you turn on your heel, walking back downstairs and toward the front door. He’s following right behind you, not stopping once you open his front door and start looking for his truck. He’d parked it on the street—which he never does—so it could be easily moved if needed. Nothing like your car, which would require at least five other cars to move if you wanted to leave. You have to wonder.

“Sorry about that, Y/n/n,” Rafe says, reminding you that you were talking about your summer fling. Rafe and Micah had never gotten along, and you hadn’t seen your friend that much this summer because of it. He could be such a hot head, fighting pogues and tourons over literally anything.

You didn't need to deal with that when you were just trying to distract yourself with a cute boy that had a huge vacation house far, far away from Rafe and all of your feelings for him.

“No, you’re not,” you laugh, accepting his hand as he helps you step into the tall truck. He gives you a deadpan look when he sees you immediately adjust the seat and the steering wheel, shutting the door once you're all tucked in. “Not my fault you’re what, 6’2?”

“You know I hit 6’3 sophomore year. Promise you’ll come back?” He’s practically pouting where he leans into the driver’s side window.

“I suppose,” you sigh.

“Good. Because you’re right. I’m not.”

“You’re not what?” you say, turning the keys in the ignition. You have to immediately turn down the obnoxious rock station he’d had on full blast, plugging in your phone to play your own songs.

“I’m not sorry about Micah.”

You immediately look up from where you’re scrolling through Spotify. He’s got the faintest smirk on his face and you have to roll your eyes, pushing him on his chest until he gets off of the car. “Goodbye, Rafe.”

“I’ll save some Trulies just for you, don’t worry pretty girl.”

He says it as he walks back towards his house, not stepping back inside until he watches you leave. You have to stop yourself from playing love songs the entire ride over.

[ptergwen]

smoke and mirrors

⇢ richkid!tom x richkid!reader ⇠

w/c: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, drinking, light angst, and implied smut

summary: because of your mother’s insistence on a pristine family image and tom’s messy one, you deny your true feelings for him

a/n: ok ok ok the pics of tom in monaco really made me think and i had to get everything out of my system so here we are! thank you and enjoy x

-

your living room is engulfed by a hushed chatter that comes from far too many guests. half the people, you hardly know. it’s overcrowded, superficial, and the last place you want to be. it’s one of your mother’s get-togethers, as she likes to call them. these things are always far from the casual affairs they sound like.

weeks go into planning, caterers and decorators making themselves at home in yours. the family’s image is everything to your mom, so being a good hostess is her top priority. ironically, she’s more concerned with throwing her gatherings than raising you. so much for family, huh?

the only reason you agreed to make an appearance tonight is that tom might do the same. he’s a really good friend, someone you’ve been able to count on through all the mess that is your lives. you met in high school, when he moved from london to the states. his dad was offered a job promotion he couldn’t pass up. plus, tom and his brothers would be receiving a stellar private education here in america.

it was a win for everyone, especially you. the freckle faced boy who got lost on his way to english class became your closest confidant. tom’s company is such a sweet escape. he’s not interested in opera or the stock market like most people you meet are. he sneaks you out to go on walks at dawn and does shots with you until you can’t stand straight.

as you two continue to grow together, revelations about yourselves have come to light. what you want beyond your inheritances, who you want beyond friendship. you figured out the second part on a faithful night recently. tom showed up to your place with a bottle of tequila. after you drank it down through lots of lime chasers and giggles, he kissed you. you didn’t kiss back.

your heart said to go for it, but your mind pulled you back in. you were so shocked and overcome with new feelings, you froze up. that, and you’d infuriate your mother. although she cares about tom a great deal, she loathes his public figure. he’s always getting papped in places and with people he shouldn’t be. the two of you together would just destroy her.

you still want to please your mom at the end of the day, no matter how deep under your skin she gets.

tom immediately apologized and tried play it off as him being drunk. you grew up with him, became part of each other’s families, which means you know him well enough to know he was lying. he meant every second his lips were on yours.

what you need to do now is something you’ve meant to for a while. the only problem is that you’re stuck at your mother’s party, and tom hasn’t shown up yet.

“y/n, darling,” your mom calls for your attention. she’s dragged you into a conversation with some bloggers, but you haven’t spoken a word. “why don’t you tell us about your trip to spain last summer?” she plasters on her award winning grin and squeezes your shoulder. it’s time to play along.

“oh, it was beautiful,” you halfheartedly reply, more to the bloggers than her. they nod in clear interest. one jots down notes. “we went for a few weeks and visited a bunch of different cities. i’d love to go back sometime.” the typical press formatted answer earns your mom’s approval. you’re off the hook. your eyes start to wander around the room, hoping to set on tom.

“we?” the woman taking notes asks. must everyone pry? “my friend and i,” you shortly reply. you’re standing up on your tiptoes to see over the crowd. you’d think six inch heels would do the trick. “i’m actually looking for him right now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you offer a polite smile and silently pray they won’t ask who. unfortunately, your wishes don’t come true.

the other blogger, a short and stubborn man, speaks up. “just a friend you say? come on, tell us. who’s the lucky fella?” he inquires. your mother raises a firm eyebrow, signaling for you not to.

tom has a reputation for his reckless behavior. it’s your mom’s worst nightmare when the media associates your names under most circumstances. you’re representing her, so she does whatever she can to control how you’re seen. you’re constantly in the papers, being a young socialite and all. it sucks.

“he’d like to stay out of the tabloids, sorry,” you cover for tom, on your mom’s behalf. “i should really go. it was nice meeting you.” the bloggers don’t bother to hide their disappointment as you shake their hands. your mother rubs your back in approval. “thank you for doing that. we’ll talk later,” she speaks lowly. “bye, mom!” you practically make a run for it. 

weaving through the sea of people, you end up by the main entrance. it’s hard not to get lost even though it’s your house. the place is packed with girls just a couple years older than you, wearing pearls around their necks. men’s strong colognes flow through the air. you’re in a form fitting red slip dress and louboutins yourself.

smoke and mirrors is what they call it. you show the pretty parts to distract from your ugly ones.

harrison suddenly comes waltzing in with a lady on either of his arms. you’d expect nothing less. he’s tom’s best friend besides you, considering the failed kiss attempt didn’t change that. their parents worked at the london branch of the same company. they each came to the states and met you. you happily introduced them to your world, helping to make it theirs as well.

“haz!” you meet him at the front door. he’s smirking while he leads the women inside. “fancy seeing you here, isn’t it?” he jokes. “very funny. i died laughing,” you deadpan, curiously eyeing harrison’s plus two. they merely giggle. “listen, have you seen tom anywhere? if he’s coming.” you’re fighting back a frown. “why wouldn’t he be?” harrison questions in a more serious tone this time.

“long story. you have guests to entertain, so i won’t get into it now,” you decide and manage a small smile instead. he perks up. “right. i’ll let you know if i see him?” nodding, you give him a wave goodbye. “enjoy yourself.” “you too, love. cheers!” the girls lean into him, harrison wiggling his eyebrows at you. he’s ridiculous.

hours pass by without word of tom. it isn’t like him to miss an event, especially if you’re in attendance. you despise these exhausting nights, and he’s supposed to be your rock during them. he should have his arm draped around your shoulders, whispering silly remarks to you while you hide out somewhere. you miss him more than you thought possible.

you’re just about to give up when you spot nikki ushering her husband inside. behind them follows tom, clad in a grey checkered suit with his locks perfectly tousled. he’s here. you waited the whole night, and he finally came.

tom kisses his mom on the cheek before strutting over to the drink table, not without a few reporters hassling him. they’re probably looking for another holland scandal to break. he declines their requests for comments on this and opinions on that, instead pulling up a chair next to harrison. the two exchange hugs and fix themselves glasses of champagne, you watching their encounter.

harrison fills tom in on the drama he’s missed tonight while they sip their drinks. tom keeps forcing smiles that don’t reach his eyes. he’s fiddling with his fingers, leg bouncing up and down steadily. those are the telltale signs he needs saving. however awkward it may be, you’re going to have to break your silence. it was bound to happen eventually.

“mate, i’m telling you. she fit her entire first right up her-“ “boys,” you cut into harrison’s story, greeting him and tom. his face tints deep pink upon your arrival. “don’t let me stop you. finish your charming anecdote,” you encourage him and subtly glance over at tom. he’s biting back a grin as he sets his elbows on the table.

“not with a lady present. let’s just… pretend you didn’t hear that,” harrison chuckles nervously and hops to his feet. “i’m gonna leave you two to chat.” humming, you move to take his chair. tom sucks in a breath. “what happened to the girls you brought?” you wonder. “they left. said they got bored,” harrison admits, tom stifling laughter. he elbows his friend for that.

“oh, fuck off. i’ll see you later,” he mopes, flicking your arm for good measure. tom salutes him and grabs his nearly empty champagne. “so long, bruv.”

it’s just you and tom now, seated side by side, silently so. he has no intentions of speaking first. he’s too embarrassed, and you don’t blame him. this is on you. you clear your throat before starting the conversation.

“can i top you off?” you tap the bottom of his glass with a tiny smile. tom shakes his head. “i’m alright, thanks.” he finishes the last sip and sets it down, turning to face you. your smile has vanished. “wasn’t sure you were gonna make it. i’m glad you did,” you change the subject. as if he’s considering the sincerity behind your words, tom furrows his eyebrows.

“mum wanted us to. she dragged me and dad straight off the golf course,” he explains and clasps his hands in his lap. his fingers interlock with each other. you fight off the urge to replace them with yours. “we would’ve been here sooner, but the paps are camped outside.” the hint of a smile forms on his lips, at last. “guess it’s not often you get the town’s finest under one roof.”

“you think i’m one of the town’s finest?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm. something flashes behind tom’s eyes. he looks right into yours, scooting closer. “absolutely. you’re the most eligible bachelorette in this whole building.” you allow a toothy grin to spread across your face. “tommy, stop it. you’re too nice to me.”

the nickname is music to his ears. tom looks you up and down, licking his lips simultaneously. “no, seriously. you look gorgeous,” he muses, you pushing at his chest. he exhales a breathy laugh, and you giggle yourself. “red’s definitely your color.” “reverse card. you wear it way better than i do,” you insist. your fingers tug at the collar of his suit. “too bad you didn’t match me.”

you’re relieved you two can talk like you usually do, light flirting and good vibes. it might not be so hard to put the kiss behind you. well, you can’t go on pretending it didn’t happen. you have to at least discuss the fiasco. tom should know why you didn’t reciprocate, then you can take it from there. whether he still has feelings for you, assuming he ever did, will depend on how that turns out.

“not to ruin the fun, but we still have to talk,” you murmur, tom’s body stiffening across from yours. he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss that. “can it wait? we’re at a party,” tom reminds you, running a hand through his styled locks. “yeah, my mother’s. don’t tell me you’re having a good time,” you playfully chastise him. he simply shrugs. “hardly. you’re the best part.”

you ignore the butterflies roaming about your body.

“you won’t mind a quick convo, then. it is with me,” you attempt to persuade him and place a hand on his knee. tom coughs a bit too loudly, the contact surprising him. “you know what? i think i’ll take you up on that drink first,” he decides with a mustered up smile. “coming right up.” you pat his leg before taking his glass. he chews on his lower lip while you poor the bubbling liquid. that was certainly… odd.

you slide tom his champagne back with an exaggerated wink. tom scoffs at this. “mm, thanks. care to join me?” he brings the alcohol to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. your mother specifically said no drinking tonight, since the press would be here. screw your mother, though. “please. could you hand me a glass?” you eagerly grab the champagne bottle. tom searches for an empty cup next to him.

you two are unspoken drinking buddies at this point.

“here you are, darling,” tom drawls, holding out the glass for you. every time he calls you that, you completely melt. “thanks, tommy,” you purr in response. you’re finally pouring your own drink when someone taps you on the shoulder, and hard. you look behind you to find your mother standing with her hands on her hips, less than thrilled. speak of the devil.

“hello, mother. can i help you?” you make sure to ask rudely. she responds with a smile that’s obviously fake. if tom weren’t here, you’d be getting scolded. “yes, my darling. those bloggers from earlier were hoping you’d finish your interview.” your mom shakes your shoulder in a motherly way. you squint up at her. “didn’t they leave hours ago-“ “they’re back,” she sharply informs you.

she’s lying, and you have a hunch as to why.

frowning, you hold tom’s hand in both of yours. “sorry, this won’t take long. why don’t you go find tuwaine?” you suggest instead. “he’s around here somewhere.” tom gives you an understanding nod and laces your fingers together, even if it’s only for a moment. “must be chatting up some producers or whatnot. i’ll see if i can help.” he’s such an incredible friend to everyone. he deserves the same from you.

“thomas, so lovely to see you,” your mom interrupts. tom stands up, kissing both her cheeks out of courtesy. “you, too. what a wonderful party. thank you for having us.” despite what the rest of the world believes, his manners are impeccable. “of course. give nikki my best, will you?” your mom puts her hands on his shoulders. he grins at her. “definitely. take care, mrs. y/l/n.” “always a pleasure,” she states, nudging you to come along with her.

you shoot tom one last apologetic look as your mother pulls you along and towards the crowd.

tom is no idiot. he’s well aware how she really feels about him.

when a swarm of guests is surrounding you, your mom lets go. you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “why would you do that? i haven’t seen tom in days.” she sighs without a care. “isn’t it time you branch out? expand your social circle?” her manicured fingers ruffle your hair. you push away her touch. “i’m social enough. we were in the middle of something really important.”

you begin to walk away, but your mother takes your arm. “whatever you’re about to do, it’s a mistake. he’ll make a fool of you,” she practically spits. yanking your arm from her grasp, you laugh bitterly. “of me, or of the family name? look around, mom.” you gesture to the spot beside her where your dad should be. “as far as i’m concerned, i have no family except tom. i’m gonna go check on him.”

you’re gone before your mom can stop you. she simply stands there, utterly mortified by what you said.

you run around the house to find tom, stumbling in your heels and not giving a fuck. you’d truly meant the part about him being your family. all the holland’s, honestly. they’re the most genuine and caring souls, and you don’t want to lose the one you’re closest to because of your mother’s delusions. 

tom is in a circle with harrison and tuwaine, the three of them chuckling amongst themselves. you’d hate to bug him, but this can’t wait anymore.

“uh, tom?” you mumble his name, appearing behind him. he steps away with another quiet laugh. “hey, y/n/n. that was quick, hm?” your face gives away your distress. his whole demeanor shifting, tom reaches for your hands. “what is it, love? is something the matter?” “just… come with me,” you croak out.

you manage to smile at harrison and tuwaine, dropping one of tom’s hands so you can lead him upstairs. they each return the smile and share curious looks.

following behind you, tom keeps your hand tight in his own. he’d thought you were going to grill him about the kiss that barely happened. it seems like this is a much more pressing matter. his outburst of emotions can be discussed another time. now, it’s time to deal with yours.

you drag tom into the first room on the second floor, which is your dad’s study. he’s away on business this weekend, so he luckily couldn’t make the party. tom sits down in the office chair. you sit up on the desk, in front of him. your lip quivers the second his worried features come into view.

“y/n/n, what’s going on? why are we in here?” tom wonders, his tone soft. your heart clenches. “i- i wanted us to have some privacy when i told you this,” you sniffle out and blink back the tears forming. you’re sort of shaken from the conversation with your mother, and mostly because you have no idea how tom will react to your confession.

his hands come to stay on your thighs, right below your dress. they feel warm against your bare skin.

“tell me what? i’m listening, yeah?” tom gazes up at you with so much love. “lay it all out for me.” god, he’s fucking amazing. if only you knew where to start. “do you, um…” you trail off, letting your tears subside and words settle. “do you remember when your family made your big debut in town?”

a grin replaces tom’s frown, painting his beautiful face. “how could i forget? you made it quite memorable.” he traces circles on your thigh and elicits a giggle from you. “i spilled a whole thing of soda on your white fucking button down,” you recount with a lighthearted sigh. “right before your dad was supposed to introduce you to everyone, too.”

tom presses his tongue into his cheek to hold back another grin. “took ages to get it out. dad went mad when i didn’t show.” he cocks his head to the side, you leaning back on your hands. “you held me hostage in the laundry room so you could do that bloody stain stick.” your mouth drops open in mock offense. “i had to clean up my mess! i wasn’t gonna let the world meet you covered in pepsi.”

that was one of your earliest memories together. the holland’s threw a party and invited everyone who was willing to attend. they had been hoping to properly introduce themselves to the town, and this was their way of doing so. although yours and tom’s friendship was fairly new, you spent all night together because you had experience with such events.

tom’s dad was making a speech to thank the guests for coming. you and him listened from the snack table, until his name was called. he rushed to go up there while you were pouring yourself a drink. he’d bumped into you, and the bottle ended up all over him. you snuck tom right off to his laundry room.

you’d felt terrible as he stood there shirtless and blushing, you aggressively swiping his button down with a stain stick.

“why do you bring that up?” tom questions and continues circling your skin. you purse your lips. “i dunno. it was the last party i actually enjoyed,” you admit, putting your hand over his that rests on your thigh. “like to reminisce when i’m suffering through one of my mother’s.” his eyes shift to where your hands are laced. “i see,” he affirms. “so, is that… all you wanted to talk about?” “not even close,” you laugh out.

a burst of courage coursing through your body, you say it. “when you kissed me the other night-“ “i won’t do it again,” tom cuts in, trying to avoid the rejection he thinks you’ll give him. “it was a mistake, and i’m so sorry. our friendship is more important than my feelings.” you seem excited to hear that, though it’s not for the reason tom expects. “you do have feelings for me?”

he’d forgotten about his i was drunk excuse.

“um, yeah. i do,” he admits, cheeks rosy and lip caught in his teeth. “but, i’ll learn to put them aside, if that’s what’s best.” “no, no. it isn’t,” you dismiss him and put your free hand on his chest. “i love you, tom. that’s what i was really trying to tell you.” your words bring an instant grin to his face. he chuckles in disbelief, standing from the chair.

“fuck, thank god. that’s all i’ve ever wanted to hear.” he’s between your legs now, his hands moving up to your hips. you’re beaming at him as your arms snake around his neck. a burning question comes to tom’s mind. “hang on. why didn’t you kiss me back, then?” he almost whispers, thumb brushing over your hipbone. “this is gonna sound weird, but… my mom,” you reluctantly let out.

“you’re gonna have to elaborate,” tom prompts you and raises an eyebrow. you can’t hold back your eye roll. “she’s never been a fan of the person you are in the media.” his lips form a line. “i gathered.” your fingers tangle in his curls at the nape of his neck reassuringly. “i was subconsciously scared i would be letting her down in some way, if we were together.”

tom allows your hands to work their way up to his scalp. he exhales contentedly as you play with his ever so soft hair. “i understand, she’s intimidating. what’s changed that brilliant mind of yours about coming clean?” your nose scrunches up when he pokes one of your temples. “oh, yeah. i yelled at her earlier ‘cuz she stole me away from you.” his face lights up. “sexy.” “shut up,” you groan. “someone had to tell her off.”

“good thing it got to be you,” tom agrees with a squeeze at your hip. “‘m proud of you, y/n/n. it’s not easy, standing up to mummy dearest.” you tug on his hair. “like you’d know. nikki is a saint.” “that’s what she’ll have you believe,” he says under his breath, you gasping. his lips turn up in a smirk. “on that note… i love you, too.”

“would’ve been embarrassing if you didn’t say it back,” you acknowledge with a cheesy smile. tom dips his head down to rest his forehead against yours. “yeah, yeah. save the attitude for your mum.” your legs easily wrap around his waist, tom’s breath hot as it hits your face. “let’s give that kiss another go,” you mewl. he doesn’t hesitate to reply. “with pleasure.”

tom’s lips land on yours, you kissing back right away. he smiles into it as your lips gently move together. “about fucking time,” he grumbles, your hands situating in his chocolate curls once again. he’s savoring every second you touch him, kiss him, love him. the taste of your mouth is one he’s craved for longer than you could imagine.

it doesn’t take long for things to heat up, you messing with tom’s hair and tom rubbing your hips. you lay back on the desk as his tongue enters your mouth. holding you by your waist, tom hovers over you. his tongue tangles with yours in a deep kiss. between that and his fingers beginning to massage your thigh, you’re done for. you’re ready to take this a step further by the time he’s kissing down your neck.

“tommy?” you grab onto his shoulders, your head back. his lips detach from your skin with a grin. “yeah, love? ‘s everything okay?” he coos, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone. “more than.” you tilt his chin up to peck his lips. “you wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you? just thinking ahead.” he laughs breathlessly, reaching into his suit pocket.

“conveniently enough, i do. not sure your dad would like me fucking you on his desk, though.” tom sets his hand on your leg that’s still hooked around his waist. “my room’s always available. carry me?” you make grabby hands and bat your lashes. he hoists you up by your waist, not lifting you just yet. “that would break the news of us, no? your mum’s gonna go apeshit.” he keeps his arms around you, chuckling.

“let her. besides, i know a couple of bloggers that would love to announce our status update.” you peck tom’s lips, grinning as you do. you’re suddenly in the air and being picked up by tom. the surprise of it makes you squeal, clutching onto his broad shoulders instinctively. he gives you the look of adoration that’s reserved for you only.

“we’ll go pop a few bottles with everyone, then we’re celebrating on our own.”