#KISSING OVER THE BANNISTER ???? GOD

[widowshill]

I love the lou + alex seaview promo shoot but imagine if r/v got the promo shots that maggie/barn did

[collectivecloseness]

okay but imagine one of the yandere fruity four (let’s say Nancy, because she’s been a bit of an example used before poor girl) just snaps and kidnaps you, without thinking about it or consulting the rest of the group. And obviously now all of them have to deal with the repercussions of her actions

Anon I am kissing you on the mouth late for valentines thank you

Things like this are so interesting though! Because if you saw Nancy kidnapping you, and she takes you to the others, home, fuck yes they are so pissed at Nancy, but now they can’t let you go. Because you saw Nancy, one of them, and they can’t put her, or any of their family (you, too, are part of their family) in danger.

So okay, you are joining the family this way. They prepared for this scenario anyway.

Of course they thought they’d have more time, because just... up and taking you would have been a last shot, if after they courted you you still said no- you weren’t sure, or you couldn’t because of some horrible reason restricting your choice :(. They would have helped you through that last alternative anyway, because they love you <3

Not all of them even thought down the taking you path... Well okay actually, all of them did, some of them would have just been a lot quieter about it than others. And some definitely would have only had it as their last, last, very last option if they were that desperate and there was nothing else they could do for you... But you’re here now. They love you. They’ll make it work, as best as they can for you. You deserve that, after everything you’ve been put through now, at the very least.

You deserve everything.

So now not only were you betrayed by one friend, but when you see your other friends, you realise you’ve been betrayed by all of them. All four of your best friends, all of them were lying to you, all of them had this crazy thing about you behind your back together, all of them were going to hurt you by keeping you here, and protect each other instead...

Like I said, the other three are pissed when Nancy tells them what she’s done. Eddie tried to run straight upstairs for you, to the spare room Nancy put you in, that they were all planning to be your room eventually anyways. But she grabs him so hard he nearly breaks his leg, gripping onto the bannister and being yanked down those first couple of steps.

Even Robin’s trying to push past, standing up to Nancy for one of the first proper times, at least physically, as she uses her height to stand practically chest to chest with Nancy, and demand she let her and Eddie go to you right now, and to not mess anything up anymore. Robin’s face serious, and dark, and pissed, as she looms in front of Nancy, a way she’s never been before, not to one of the others.

But Nancy begs everyone to listen first. She’s in tears shortly into her argument, her defence more of an apology than anything, and speeching a stance of what they can all do next, to keep this all together. She knows she fucked up. And Nancy usually doesn’t cry when trying to debate something. But Nancy knows what a whole mess this thing is, and it is entirely her fault; no one else to blame but her this time. She doesn’t want to lose the others either. And she can’t lose you, hopefully if the others stay with her, they’ll help you come back around to her too...

But when the other three first burst into your room, they are in shock.

Yeah they knew you were up here. God, they were practically scratching layers beneath their skin and bouncing the floorboards into dust, knowing you were tied up and frightened and all alone up there, but they were taking forever to talk downstairs. A family meeting without you... the last time that’ll happen, they swear okay? ...Apart from the ones where you don’t need to know something that will just upset you.

Immediately they’re running forwards and untying you. Nancy practically had your whole body bound in rope, she was really panicking after hitting you over the head and deciding to just take you.

Shock still on their faces as Eddie undoes your ear muffs and scarf blindfold from Nancy’s winter wear, wanting you to find your senses, caring about you more than anything else right now. He needs you to not be even more frightened, panicked, to know it’s him and you’re safe now and this will never happen to you again - it shouldn’t have. His hands brushing your cheeks as he removes them. His face tender and soothing and heightened with adrenaline, taking this so so seriously as he frees you, let’s you get your senses back. Keeps his hands stroking your cheeks as you see him, because you know Eddie will keep you safe.

Steve apologising profusely and promising you’re alright over and over, as he immediately moves to assessing the rope situation. Deciding to just cut them all with a pocket knife in his jeans, instead of having you in them for five more seconds. Taking it out and being thankful he has all his family here, because as you notice it’s them, your friends, coming to save you, once Eddie’s freed your eyes, you settle down enough so Steve won’t nick you, as he quickly gets to work. Fuck all this rope, Nancy shouldn’t need any more anyway, she shouldn’t be doing anything by herself anymore if she’s hurting you, and all of you, like this!

Robin breaking Eddie’s handcuffs Nancy stole that are tying you to the your bedpost, while you lay on the floor all wrapped up. She doesn’t even really know how she does it in the end. She just acts quick and makes sure not to hurt your wrist. Permanently breaking something belonging to Eddie’s personality that Nancy had twisted and used to victimise you... Robin could really mess with her right now. But at least once it’s done, it’s easier for Steve, dealing with all that rope. Used just for you, someone who wouldn’t hurt anyone. And you’ve been laying on the carpeted floor with your whole body tied up and senses stolen, with nothing even coating your injured head...

All their eyes wet and terrified and loving and soothing and deep in yours. Eddie holding your face as his dark puppy eyes stay closest to yours, walking you through some calming talk as he holds you. Steve promising he’s getting you out right now and shushing you as he says you’re okay, every time he feels it’s safe enough to look up from his knife, task oriented. Robin joining Steve the second she’s broken the cuffs, her blue eyes less teary and so determined, because she is deep in protective mode right now, letting you know when it’ll be over soon.

As soon as you see the others, especially with their shock, their runs to free you, their soothing and apologetic and horrified words, all you can think is thank god. You’re trying to tell them Nancy has suffered some kind of episode, even though you’re sure they already know that. Nancy wasn’t in this room, and they all knew where you were, they were still just shocked to see you like this.

As soon as they’ve got you free, you leap forward, and because of positioning alone, Steve is the first one you hug. He practically lifts you upright, back onto your feet, the moment he hugs you back, even if it does take him a second before he does so.

Steve sniffles as he hugs you, his toned arms shaking but not from the effort of those ropes. His cheek pressed to yours, as he blinks tears down his face, being brushed away by your hair as he lets you sink into his protective hold. Thanking him, hugging one of your best friends, because he saved you, like you knew he would.

Steve hugs you back, because he’s your hero briefly, and he’s aware this will be the last time you’ll hug him for a while. Any of them. Last time you’ll hug them like this, like the you who you still are, for a while. Steve doesn’t want you to change, Nancy shouldn’t have-

He knows this new arrangement will take some getting used to. For all of them. Especially because you probably are going to change as a person, as someone they all know, they love for who you are. But it’s okay, of course they’ll love you anyway, no matter what.

You tell them again about Nancy suffering some sort of break, clearly something is very wrong with her mental health you say, and they all say they know, which you assume they did as they knew where to find you. They’re all relishing in these last few seconds with you, mourning the normal future they know they could have had with you, by keeping their hands on you while they can right now

Steve rubbing your shoulders with his thumbs, his hands grounding you there with comfort and strength, after you pulled back from the hug. Eddie cupping your cheek and neck, still so close by, his other ringed hand cradling through your hair, and biting his lip as he tries not to think about next time he’ll be able to do this again. Robin rubbing your back up and down, her hand resting on your hip like it usually is with you, knowing she’s lost that normalcy, one type of relationship with you now.

And then you realise that all four of your friends are kidnapping you now. They’re all insane. What the fuck have they been thinking about you this entire time? Why are they doing this now? They’ve untied you from your restraints, Steve is nearly on his knees whilst keeping his hands on your shoulders, as he begs you to believe you’ll never be restrained again, but explains they’re still locking you in this room for now.

Stealing you in Steve’s slightly soundproofed house, with no neighbours in viewable distance through the trees of Hawkins around.

At least the house you were to be kept prisoner in was very lovingly built by the architect... The way out of Steve’s house was a straight line, a path easy for anyone facing that way to spot. Easy for them to see anyone leaving on. If no one came to the front door, and knowing - or rather not knowing what these four were capable of - you’re sure they’d be able to keep people away, then there’s no way you’d be spotted. And while Steve hadn’t soundproofed the house or anything dramatic like that, it did keep sound well. It kept everything in well. Which was unfortunate for you.

Begging one of them to be on your side. Doing so as soon they forlornly tell you what’s going to happen now, for the first couple of days. Like for Robin or Eddie to help you. You’re very quickly trying to refigure out your friends. But they don’t. They don’t let you free. They don’t get you the phone. They want you to know they are on your side, they tell you they don’t want you to feel like you’re all on your own, but you say that you are, because they won’t help you.

They sadly trot away, closing your door behind you, to respect you and your boundaries. Sulking away upset, even if they do understand. But if making them upset that they’re making you feel this way helps you get out, then good! But also they should feel upset! They should feel guilty!

You’ll tell them how abandoned and alone you feel, that neither of them are supporting you, you can’t trust them to be by your side, and they can’t promise you it’s untrue, because you have all this evidence to throw in their face, or to tearily testify with. They say they’ll do anything else for you, anything in the world. Even though every single thing you ask for the first day they say no to.

Nancy begging you not to blame/be mean to the others. But what else can you respond with other than actually you will keep doing so, as they are just as complicit as her because they are keeping you here.

“Do you know the law Nancy? They will also be thrown away for kidnapping. You definitely shouldn’t go for that position as a crime reporter, if you don’t know the law.”

The ‘will’ hurts Nancy. As if you really do want them all sent away to prison. Like you’d try to do that to them if they gave you that bit of freedom right now. Like you’re planning on it happening.

You don’t want Nancy to get that stupid promotion. You don’t exactly care how she feels about herself, unless it’s guilty enough to set you free... or upset enough to hurt- Unless it affects your chances of getting out of here unharmed, you couldn’t give one about her feelings.

“Also fuck you.” Is the other thing you say to Nancy. Right before she leaves you to yourself again.

They try to give you privacy, but also keep you at a level of interaction with them like before. Just like before Nancy hurt you - they are really apologetic for that, and really are glad you let them take care of your poor minor head injury. A similar amount of time that you’d interact with them everyday, before you lived with them. So you weren’t going through too many changes, and so you weren’t scared each time they did breach your new bedroom. They want you to feel normal, they really really do.

Steve mentioned to you about two weeks in, when he came in to chat with you like they all do, that if Nancy gets some promotion she’s working towards, it’ll mean more funds in the household for everyone! He says it while practically bouncing on your- the bed, with a smile. Although he quickly gets that expression on his face, the one you used to think was dorky and endearing, where he realised he may have messed up while speaking, and he quickly rectifies that of course that’s not to say anything negative about you now also pulling from the household pot, and that they’re very happy to have you, they’ve always been planning for that; especially since they know you really wanted that break because you were so burned out, so they were gonna give it to you with all their financial support. All their support in the world. Also, the amount they used to buy you gifts, or nights out, or pay for gas to see you, you were always a part of the pot anyway.

You tell Steve to go away, before he can smile for a second time today. It is very rare any of them smile, in this first week or two they have you. Sometimes they forget things aren’t like they used to be. Or they try to treat things like normal, to help you transition. But you definitely weren’t smiling, and they knew, no matter how much the fact made them want to claw their own hearts out, they knew they were the reason why. So they didn’t really feel any reason for them to smile. Not so far anyway.

[pardonmymannerssir]

(I’ll just leave this here. No plot, mostly fluff, and I would argue spoiler free but exercise care.)

Rook x Lucanis

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Veraline stepped out onto the balcony, the humid breeze of Treviso cooling the lingering sweat on her skin. She could taste the sea and roses from the gardens below. The lights of villa Dellamorte and the city beyond were warm and comforting, the stars above a brilliant echo.

“It’s beautiful here,” she said, inhaling deeply.

Lucanis reclined on the balcony facing her, shirtless with his pants slung low on his hips. He hadn’t bothered to lace them and she tried valiantly not to stare. He had no such reservations.

“Hmm, a beautiful view certainly.” His eyes traced her body languidly and once they reached her eyes a hot blush splashed across her face and down her neck. Time had in no way made her immune to his charms.

Lucanis bit his lower lip and his brows drew down. “Mierda, when you blush like that… it spreads across your chest and I…” there was a flash of purple that receded quickly.

She reached out to place a hand on the smooth heat of his chest. Felt the heart beating there and wet her lips. “We are becoming rather… insatiable,” she teased.

He grinned and lifted her hand to press a hot kiss to the center of her palm. His beard was wonderfully rough against her skin and she raked her nails along his jaw. She wondered absently what he might look like without it.

When he released her his smile had turned almost foolish; free and full of what she could only describe as….love. No one had ever looked at her that way. She could only stand the weight of it for a moment before she turned her attention back to the city beyond him.

“I suspect not having the looming threat of gods and blighted dragons hanging over our heads might have something to do with it,” he said, sliding closer along the bannister to loop an arm around her waist. He pressed another kiss to the hollow of her shoulder, making her shiver.

She chuckled, not at all embarrassed at how breathless she sounded.

“Mmmm this night dress… where did you get it and why have I never seen it before?” His hand smoothed down her hip and over her backside, gripping firmly enough to make her breath catch.

“It’s new…” she managed as he traced his lips across her collar bone to linger at her leaping pulse. She tilted her head back in encouragement. “I bought it with a certain person in mind. I think he likes it.”

“The way it slides against your skin is quite… intriguing.” He illustrated this by using both hands to trace down the backs of her thighs to the backs of her knees and up again. Said knees nearly gave out.

It was becoming very hard to think clearly. How likely was it they were being observed out here? Considering where they were and who her… lover was probably pretty damn high.

Lucanis was now slowly hiking up the silk of her night gown -which had not been cheap- and the kisses along her jaw were becoming much more insistent. Hot and urgent with just a hint of teeth.

“D-didn’t you say you were hungry?” She asked as her body trembled and quivered like a tightly strung bow, ready to snap.

“Oh, I am,” he said in such a perfect growl that she couldn’t help but giggle, the sound high and honest enough that he drew back to smile up at her. She framed his face with her hands, some of the building tension between them tempering into something sweet and soft. He was so beautiful and kind and unexpected that tears pricked at her eyes.

He saw them, of course, and brushed the backs of his fingers along her cheek. “You are beautiful.”

Compliments. Ugh. “So are you,” she said lamely, it was true of course but as a deflection tactic it was rather pathetic.

He snorted. “First time I saw you, down in that hell, I thought I was hallucinating.”

She pressed her forehead to his as his arms enclosed her. “Because I was so suave and charming and talented?”

“Of course, and incredibly humble and accommodating.”

She grinned. “I believe I complained that you were awfully needy for a damsel in distress.”

He pulled back to look her in the eye. Expression playful and open. “And then you helped me kill half an army of Venatori and I was lost.”

“Taash says I do look very hot when I murder assholes.”

“They are very correct.”

“I just assumed they were referring to all the fireballs but, alas.”

He sighed in amused exaggeration. “You are also rather ridiculous.”

“I heard a rumor that it’s what you love most about me.”

“Well that and a few other things that come immediately to mind,” his gaze dipped pointedly down to the swell of her breasts.

“I presume you mean my unmatched wit and excellent taste in wine.”

“Of course,” he said with the smirk that always made her thighs clench.

She bent down and kissed him, lingering long enough for both their breathing to grow just a tad labored.

She pulled back as his hands began to wander. “How many Crows are watching us at this exact moment?”

“At least four,” he said with a touch of shame.

“Thought so,” she said and stepped back. “Come on, you promised me food and I think we’ve given our audience enough of a show.”

Lucanis gave her another winning smirk and drew her back toward the doors to his rooms beyond.

“Goodnight you two!” Called a mischievous voice from the shadows of the parapets beyond and Veraline waved a set of middle fingers joyfully into the night.

[rippersz]

𝕴𝖙’𝖘 𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔𝖔.

«——..✞..——»

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(DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT) (TW: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, slight glorification of both, gore, toxic love, smutty/suggestive themes, etc.) (Larissa Weems x Reader)

«——..✞..——»

“The blood on my teeth begins to taste like a poem, like religion, like the way you look at me.” ~ Sean Glatch

«——..✞..——»

Turns out, the maintenance crew was due to leave only about two hours after everyone vacated Nevermore to go to the carnival. The only catch was that Larissa had to turn it back on five hours later; some inane thing about a system catch up and not wanting to blow the lights and blah blah blah. She didn’t really seem too concerned, so you figured it wasn’t worth worrying about. Though then again, her level of reaction is often exaggerated around others. A smooth coverup to her consistent undertone of intense apathy. She’s a damn good actress, you have to give her that. Even when around you, she puts a bit more life into her eyes. Into her voice. Into her breath. It’s forced, of course. Yeah. Most definitely. She doesn’t just magically feel more alive because of you. That type of thing doesn’t happen in real life.

…Cannibals, on the other hand, happen far more often than people like to think.

If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that you’d somehow fall into a weird pseudo-psychotic-relationship with your one day shape-shifting cannibalistic gorgeous boss, you’re pretty sure your younger self would just burst into tears. Or blink maybe- and ask what a ‘cannibal’ was. You wouldn’t have an answer, of course, but that’s neither here nor there.

What’s more important anyway is the fact that you stupidly agreed to meet Larissa by Nevermore’s main entrance at exactly 9:45. You were exhausted after a day of rowdy teenagers and slow classes and it was only at about 7 PM when you remembered that your day wasn’t even over yet. Oh no no no. You still had a game to play. A game that, now as you think of it, standing by the two big doors and waiting for the guest of honor, may just go on well into the night. It depends on how Larissa’s feeling. It depends on what the ‘terms’ are. It depends on if she’s eaten dinner yet and if she has the energy to kill, cook, and clean before everyone gets back.

God you hope that’s not the case.

You really really hope-

“Always on time, I see,” a familiar voice rings through the hall, sounding from the top of the staircase.

Speaking of the fucking thorn in your side.

You turn at the exact moment that Larissa’s kitten heels start click-clacking their way down the stairs… and then promptly fall short of breath at the sight.

You haven’t seen her all day. Not even once. And now there she stands, all 6 feet and however many inches in those shoes and she’s painted against the moonlight that shines through the large windows behind her and the shadows drink her in as the air loses itself in her beauty, stealing away into her lungs and depriving you of oxygen and you, not for the first time, find yourself wondering why it’s so hard to just accept her. To just come to terms with the fact that maybe, if you ignore her insatiable appetite, you may be able to fall asleep in her arms and kiss her peacefully without feeling shame. Why can’t you just push guilt aside and fall into her body and let her pick you up and surround you and finally feel safe? And why oh why can you not take your fucking eyes off of her goddamn body? Jesus you are barely holding yourself together as she drags one slender hand down the bannister, making eye contact with you as she prowls. Those crystal eyes take on a dark, nearly black hue in the grey of the evening and you find yourself ashamed of the fact that you can’t look away from them.

Perhaps some sins are meant to be indulged in.

Her crimson lips curl into a placating close-mouthed smile. Her skin and hair are as pale and pristine as ever. Her perfume, as she gets closer, is heavier- spicier- but the intoxication of scent is the least of your worries. Oh no; the thing you’re most concerned about is the dress. Never have you ever seen her wear red. Not in your five and a half years of working at Nevermore. Not even in your dreams. Larissa doesn’t touch deep colors. She doesn’t wear the darker shades.

And yet?

Yet, there she is. Torturing you. Wrapping her long slim fingers around your attention span and taking all of it for herself. ‘Mine,’ is what she’s silently saying as she gives her hips some extra sway and shows off the loose sash around her waist. The dress reveals the curve of her calves and the tiniest bit of her thighs and suddenly you come to the (stupid) realization that she’s not wearing any stockings. Which she always wears. Which somehow, the absence of, makes your brain short-circuit and recalculate.

“Thank you for meeting me.” And before you even know it, there the Big Bad stands - hands clasped at her waist and head tilted to the side, looking like the cat who did not only catch the canary but also skinned, filleted, and served the little fucker up on a silver platter.

You feel the need to glare at her, to curse her for her beauty and her allure, but you simply can’t muster up the energy to do so. You’re tired- and your emotions are frayed- and you just want to rest- but clearly someone doesn’t want you to be at peace just yet. No, clearly, she wants you all to herself for just a little while. You’re not sure why, you’ve contemplated it before, but dwelling on anything regarding Larissa Weems is a spiraling whirl of insanity and despair that you just don’t wanna go down right now. So it’s better to stay in the present… and give her a little hum while you cross your arms. If she’s noticed that you take on such a defensive stance whenever she’s around, she hasn’t said anything. And she probably won’t either. Cuz she doesn’t care.

“Yup. Are we gonna get this over with or what?” It comes out harsher than you want it to, forcing your organs to immediately crinkle up like smashed paper as you cringe at your sharp tone.

Larissa fairs no better as her expression falls and her lips twist into a frown. The lines of her face become deeper when she looks so depressed, like she hasn’t slept in 80 years. You want so terribly to tell her to suck it up and stop acting like a baby, but you also know that her excitement about fun and friendliness is not a thing she fakes. The Poe Cup excites her. The Nevermore dances and activities and Outreach Day and this, that, and the other all bring her some modicum of joy. The kids themselves make her happy. It’s weird to know a person who has killed another human being and enjoyed the taste of their flesh… while also finding happiness in the simple annual events of their job. Like she has an alter ego; but you know that’s not the case. She’s 100% herself. Which is both admirable and scary.

“If you don’t want to,” Larissa hisses, making you freeze at the sound of undeniable ice in her tone, “then don’t make me force you. Go to bed, if you so wish. I’m not going to keep you against your will.”

Like a monster. She doesn’t say it, but you think that maybe she’s thinking it.

And though you want to respond and say But you are a monster. You have kept people against their will before. You have killed before. you decide to steer the conversation to safer shores and get yourself out of harm's way. Larissa doesn’t often get serious with you, but whenever she does it, you know better than to push her buttons. Certain boundaries have not yet been established. You never know if you are safe.

“Sorry- sorry. I’m just tired. Really, I’m fine. Let’s play and then we can get some rest. That sound okay?”

A dark gaze pins you to your spot, staring into the very marrow of your bones. It’s clear what she’s thinking. It’s clear what she knows. Like she knows you’re just agreeing to save your own hide. She knows you’re complying out of fear. She can’t hear your heartbeat, but she knows it’s running faster than a speeding train. She knows she’s shifted the line once again.

The only thing is that she really can’t bring herself to care.

You’ve complied. That’s all she needs.

“…Fine. Yes. Are you ready to discuss the terms?”

It’s obvious that the tension hasn’t dissipated entirely, but you figure that as the night carries on, that will change.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Who knows? It may even be fun.

Larissa smiles.

It’s wide.

It’s.. scary.

Sharp.

A Cheshire grin.

Cold. Steely. It doesn’t reach her eyes. You feel sweat start to bead along your back.

“In the name of saving time, there will be one round. I will seek. You will hide. We will have 45 minutes in total. However, you will get a 20 second head start. Should I manage to find and catch you in under 45 minutes, you’ll join me for dinner. The main course will be poached lamb. And you will be required to eat it.” There’s a pause.

“All of it.”

Okay not fun. DEFINITELY not fun. So incredibly not fun.

You swallow.

“…And if I win?”

Then what? Then what if you win? What the fuck do you get out of this? What could she possibly give y-

“Then I will give it up.”

…What?

You look at her wildly. But there’s no expression on her face. She’s just… blank. White behind the eyes. Nothing. Apathetic.

No.

No.

Practiced indifference.

She doesn’t think you can win.

She doesn’t even want to consider you winning.

But all is fair in love and cannibalism. And she’s never been one to tip the scales.

“I’m sorry, you’ll what?” You’re just not sure you’ve heard her correctly. She’ll ‘give it up’?

Larissa sighs, her lashes fluttering as she purses her lips and gives you a ‘look’.

“If you win, I’ll give it up.”

…And that’s it? That’s all she’s gonna give you?

“What do you even mean? Give up the whole killing people and eating them thing? The-” You look around, suddenly nervous about a creature somehow lurking in the shadows. One can never be too careful. Probably best that you don’t speak so loudly. “-the cannibalism?” Your body leans closer to her as you whisper, though your eyes stray and scan the shadowed columns and walls of the entrance hall.

Larissa of course takes that opportunity to get closer to you and bends down at the waist, lining her lips up to your ear while you’re distracted.

“Yes, darling. I’ll give up the cannibalism.” And her voice is so husky and her breath is so warm, flushed against the side of your neck, that you nearly fall right to your knees.

I’ll give up the cannibalism.

Oh you could laugh. You could laugh and you could laugh hard. She’s joking- she has to be. And you’re about to tell her that, you’re about to turn your head and tell her not to fuck around with you, but then your cheeks brush and suddenly you’re letting out an embarrassing squeak and stumbling back to hit the door behind you.

She blinks, straightens up, and smiles down at you as though nothing ever happened.

It’s infuriating.

“You’re lying. You wouldn’t do that.”

A light eyebrow quirks up.

“Wouldn’t I?”

A heavy staring contest ensues; but you’re the only one trying not to blink - Larissa is just looking. And smirking. And god fuck her for being so fucking gorgeous.

“I’m a woman of my word, Y/n,” she purrs, watching with such amusement as you desperately try to collect yourself and steer yourself back on track.

Not that the track was very clear nor sane in the first place. In fact, the track probably leads to Hell.

Oh well.

You were never getting through the pearly gates anyway.

“Okay,” you decide, looking her up and down. “If I win, you stop it. All of it. No more killing, eating, nothing. The only protein you consume comes from livestock. Not human livestock. Just- livestock.” You nod to yourself, giving her a firm stare.

But just because you reaffirmed what happens if you win doesn’t mean you will. And she knows that. So she hums and turns on one heel, taking her burning gaze away from you and sweeping it over the floors and walls- down into the darkness of the corridors. You don’t know what she’s thinking, but you have a feeling it’s not good. Larissa can be very sneaky when she wants to be… cheating, at least in a playful little game like the one you’ll be having, is certainly not below her. In fact, she’s entirely capable of winning. Like on a level you could not even imagine. She’s been around Nevermore for how long? Counting her years in the Academy as a student and as an adult… knowing her roommate used to be the cunning and sly Morticia Frump neé Addams… well. Her big sexy shapeshifter brain probably has the entire fucking place memorized.

And you haven’t even been there for six years.

So you’re saying you’re doomed.

Yeah. Basically.

“Yes,” Larissa finally confirms, turning back to you with a quick shift of her legs. “And if I win, you dine with me.” Oh she looks so excited about that. Her eyes, somehow, are darker than they were before. No light reflects at all as they carve into your soul. Already you can tell that she’s imagining how she’ll cook the meat.

“…Poached lamb, you said?”

She grins, her smile sudden like she’s surprised (and delighted) that you remembered.

“Yes. Would you like to know what other dishes I’ll be preparing?”

At the sound of her cheery tone, your expression sets into a scowl.

“You’re talking as if you’ve won already. What makes you think that’ll happen?”

Her physical response is minuscule. Barely even there. But you notice the slight way in which her cheek twitches; and you see how her hands tighten around each other. When she responds, her red lips are curved into a smirk and her voice is soft. Soft and kind. It sends a blaze of hot warmth across your body.

“I find acting as though you already have the thing you want tends to result in obtaining it.” Her head tilts. Her eyes run over your body. From your feet to your head, over the swaying black cotton dress you’re wearing and the necklaces you have draped over your collarbones. Slow and steady. Tracing your arms… your legs… your shoulders… your waist… your breasts and your hair… not hungry for your flesh in her stomach, but hungry for your skin against her tongue. Your skin against her lips. Your skin against her own. She lets out a sigh. “And I want you.”

It’s breathed out into the night - and accompanied by the sudden loud chime of Nevermore’s clock tower.

You jump at the sound of it, immediately slapping a hand over your heart in shock.

“Goddammit! That fucking thing gets me every time.” It’s definitely not the thing to be focusing on, but you’re not sure you have the mental capacity to pick through and understand the implications behind Larissa’s words. As it is, the change of the hour means you have even less time to play before the rest of the staff and the children return.

Larissa, of course, did not jump out of her bloody skin. Instead, she watched your body tense and your eyes widen with no small amount of fondness. She thought you were silly. Adorable. Hers.

“I suppose that’s our cue, then. Are you ready to begin?” Her white teeth glimmer when she turns to glance up at the staircase.

You feel your heart start to thump within your ears.

Always the little lamb, aren’t you darling?

Yes.

Always the prey.

Yes.

Meant to be hunted.

Yes.

Meant to be found.

Yes.

No.

Wait. …Meant to be found?

No...

No no no no no no.

Not meant to be found. Not meant to be found at all. The whole point is not to be found. The whole point is to escape.

Oh? What are you escaping from? There is no one here to hurt you. There is no one here to get you. You are safe. You are safe.

Oh if only that were true…

If only she could love you without wanting to swallow you whole.

You finally sigh, resigned and tired.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, Larissa.”

«——..✞..——»

Can you tell I’m hyperfixating on her? Thank you so much for the love. (Let’s just pretend Nevermore’s clocktower works. And the power being out will come into play in the next part ;)) - Rip x

(P.S. Tell me who you want to win in the game of hide and seek.)

(P.P.S. Most of the meat referenced in this series is code for human flesh. ‘Long pork’, for example, is the official name for human. Here, the ‘poached lamb’ and other types mentioned in future is also code. Thx.)

«——..✞..——»

[z3nitsusgf]

Will, my muse, my cowpoke, my insane cheese-brain detective <33

Will Graham is soft like moss from the backyard. All wide-eyed and toothy, like the refracting image of water on the surface of the lake. He’s country charm at its finest. The very definition of it. He’s real rough and tumble, oh your bluegrass outlaw. Banned from the saloon and kicked from the county jail - he wanders the backwoods alone.

You can just imagine it, the old cowboy in him. Sitting on the porch with his hat tipped down over his eyes, chewing on long dried wheat and humming Jonny Cash. The sun dips down over the west, singing cicadas and buzzing mosquitoes, he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and once in a while, kiss it.

He once told you he likes to help people. That, when he loves them, he wants to make them feel like he’ll always be there to solve it.

He said, “I’ve never seen you cry, I don’t know if you can. I don’t know if I can either.” And in a way, you knew he just wanted to hold you one last time.

You know if you asked sweet enough, if you shared your canteen and offered a palm to his cheek - he’d nuzzle it like a dog and let you clean his wounds till he cried. The glow of fireflies caught in jars.

He’s a spur in your side, a rough kick of a steel toe boot to your heart. But you want it.

You want that life. To live in that small town with winding back roads and train tracks that blare in the night. Barefoot on the stairs, tracing the smooth dark wood of the bannister. Drinking sweet tea on the swinging bench and listening to him talk about his truck.

It’ll roll off his tongue like sap from a tree, “babydoll what’d ya think?”. Thick country accent slurring from his mouth, hands creeping up the valley of your chest, canines peeking through his lip.

To watch him fix his engine with oil stained hands, cap shielding his eyes from the blistering southern sun. August sticking to the back of our throats. Dog days. He’d look sweet as sin, like cold whiskey at the bar.

You’ve always been a dreamer. You’re quite choked with the tenderness you have for him. If you admitted it, it would kill you.

You wonder, faintly, if he’s religious. Would he find God within you? Would you find God in him?

“Oh my sunkissed cowboy, my lover boy, my partner in crime. Let me hold you by your blue jeans, let me curl my fingers round your belt loops and step on your leather boots, let me kiss your honey suckle mouth.”

You see it so clearly. You need him with the utmost certainty.

[legolasbadass]

Office Hours, Part 32

Summary: Lorelei Browning has just secured a job as an assistant professor at Exeter College in Oxford. Naturally, she is eager to prove herself and meet every challenge sent her way, but what she does not expect is the tall, handsome stranger who will quickly become much more than a colleague.

Relationship: Richard Armitage x OC (Professor AU)

Word Count: 2k

Rating: M

A/N: Thank you all for your kind comments on this story, both here and on Tumblr. This story is quickly coming to an end, but I hope you will enjoy the last chapters! 💙

With an exhausted sigh, I drop one of the last boxes into the living room and take a moment to catch my breath. The early afternoon sun floods into the house from the tall bay window, casting beams of light onto the overflowing bookshelves and the pale couch. Boxes are scattered all over the place, and the sound of loud voices coming from outside and the thudding of heavy boots against the old wooden floors disrupt the usual tranquillity of the house, but it is still home. 

Home. 

The last few days have not been the most restful. Since the end of the term and the college party a few days ago, Richard and I have spent every waking moment packing my belongings, making room in the house, and correcting exams, and we have not gotten nearly enough sleep, but the fatigue and stress do not compare to the happiness that fills me. 

I make my way toward the front door, but before I know it, a pair of strong arms circle my waist from behind and pull me into a warm but sweaty chest. 

“Oh, God—you’re all sweaty!” I exclaim and try to wriggle out of Richard’s embrace. 

His rumbling laughter reverberates through me as he leans in to brush his lips against my earlobe. “That doesn’t usually bother you.” 

Warmth floods my cheeks, but before I can respond, William peers down from the bannister overhead. “I’m right here.” 

It is Richard’s turn to blush, and we giggle in embarrassment as William walks down the stairs and back outside. William, Claire, and Beatrice all kindly offered to help us with the move today, and I certainly do not want to leave them to do all the work, even if there are only a few boxes left in the truck. But as I turn around to face Richard, I cannot yet will myself to go back outside. His cheeks are red and his hair is an irresistible tousled mess of curls, and I cannot refrain from running my hand through it as he smiles at me. 

“We’re going to live together,” he says, his gaze warm. 

“Oh, is that what we’re doing?” I reply teasingly, earning a look of fond annoyance from him. 

He chuckles, then squeezes my hands. “You’re not nervous at all? No second thoughts?” 

“Of course not! Why, did you expect me to have second thoughts?” 

“No, I just—it’s a big thing.” 

Unable to stop myself, I grin and glance down at his groin. “Yes, it is a big thing.” 

He laughs as another blush blooms on his cheeks. “You’re impossible,” he says, shaking his head, though the affection in his eyes is undeniable. 

My mischievous grin widens as I revel in the playful embarrassment I have managed to cause. “But seriously,” I begin, traces of laughter in my voice, “I’m not nervous and I’m not having any second thoughts. I’m so thrilled that we’re going to live together.” 

His smile softens, and he leans in to gently kiss me. “Me too.” 

William’s voice reaches us from outside. “Come on, lovebirds! Stop snogging and grab some boxes!” 

Chuckling, I give Richard’s hand a final squeeze before dragging him outside, though I wish I could spend the rest of the day kissing him. The air is thick and humid under the bright afternoon sun, but thankfully, after Beatrice and William make another trip into the house, only one box remains in the truck, and Richard effortlessly lifts it as if it were not filled with tons of heavy books. 

“Well, that’s the last of it,” Claire says with a relieved sigh.

“Thank you so much for all your help!” I say as we follow Richard into the house. 

“Anytime! It’s the least I could do to repay Richard for all the times he’s helped Will and I move in the past.” She looks up at Richard as he drops the box into the living room. “Remember when you helped Will and I move into our first flat?” 

He chuckles in remembrance. “That feels like a lifetime ago.” 

“It does!” she responds with a nostalgic sigh before turning her gaze back to me. “It was right after I graduated from uni. We moved into this horrible tiny flat in the Leicester city centre that was always cold and had no storage space, and I nearly broke up with Will because he never picked up after himself, and it was driving me crazy.” 

“Typical Will,” Richard says with a deep, rumbling laugh, and Claire rolls her eyes in agreement. 

“And the worst part is that he’s still like that! I hope for your sake, Lorelei, that this clown is tidier than his brother.” 

I chuckle. “Well, Richard can be a bit messy, but he tends to contain his mess to his office, and as long as it remains that way, it’s fine with me.” 

“Day one and you’re already the boss in the house, are you?” Richard retorts playfully as he wraps an arm around my shoulders. “And I’m not messy—you’re just a neat freak.”

“I am not!” 

“Yes, you are!” Beatrice chimes in as she walks down the stairs, causing them to laugh. “We only lived together a few months and I honestly think any longer might have ruined our friendship.”

“Bea!”

“It was all ‘don’t dry your hands with that dish towel’, ‘you haven’t vacuumed your room in two weeks’, and ‘take off your shoes on the rug, you’re trailing mud all over the hallway’.”

“Stop before Richard changes his mind about living with me,” I respond with an embarrassed chuckle. 

But I have nothing to worry about as Richard pulls me into a hug and says, “Don’t worry. You’re my little neat freak, and nothing anyone says is going to make me change my mind.” He then presses a tender kiss atop my head, and I blush as Claire and Beatrice smile knowingly. 

“Well, Lorelei, you are officially moved in!” William announces as he joins us in the entry. “But don’t worry—we still have the truck so there’s still time to change your mind and run. Because I’m telling you, my brother can be difficult to deal with.” 

“Rumour has it you’re the one who’s difficult to live with,” I respond teasingly. 

William tilts his head questioningly, then narrows his eyes at Claire. “What lies have you been saying about me now, Amy Dunne?” 

Chuckling, she raises her brows in challenge. “Just that even our five year old son is often tidier than you are, which is not a lie.” 

“Only because you’re always nagging him to clean up his messes,” William retorts.

“Well, at least one of you listens.” 

“Behold, our future,” Richard whispers playfully in my ear, causing me to giggle. 

As the scorching summer sun makes way for a refreshing evening breeze, we all work tirelessly to unpack as many boxes as possible. We leave the endless boxes of books for later and tackle the kitchen first, and soon enough, all the counters are covered in dishes waiting to be organized into cabinets, forcing us to eat dinner in the living room, plates piled high with pizza. I grow silent when the conversation inevitably turns to Richard’s imminent move to Boston, selfishly wishing we could pretend for tonight that he is never leaving. Richard is clearly proud and excited about this new opportunity, but when he rests a hand on my thigh and squeezes me tight, I know he, too, wishes the same. 

Eventually, I make my way upstairs to continue unpacking in the bedroom, letting him enjoy his success and discuss his plans with the others. I am halfway through a third box of clothes when a knock on the door interrupts me, and I turn to find William standing in the doorway with a hesitant smile. 

“I was just coming to get some boxes to put in the recycling bin,” he explains, pointing to the pile of empty boxes in the corner. 

“Great, thanks!” I say. “But you can leave one or two here—Richard might need them to pack some of his things.” 

William nods, then pauses. “You doing ok?” 

I turn to him after folding a jumper into the drawer. “I’m doing great,” I answer with a slightly confused frown. 

“I mean, it can’t be easy—with him leaving for a year.” 

“Ah. That.”

William nods slowly. 

“Well… I wish he didn’t have to go, obviously,” I reply with a humourless chuckle. “But he has to—I want him to! I’d have to be really stupid to try to stop him, and I’d have to be even more stupid to give up on what we have because of this.” 

“My brother’s lucky to have you.” 

I smile, unsure how to respond. 

“I mean, to be able to count on you through all this…” 

“Are you referring to his ex Rebecca?” He nods. “Well, it’s different… We’re different people and—and he’s not asking me to uproot my whole life for him. It’s just one year, right?” I shrug again, trying to convince myself that it is not as difficult as it is. 

“Right.” A few moments of silence later, William chuckles and shakes his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come up here and get so serious. I just—I like you and I think you and my brother are great together. And I guess this is my weird and really awkward way of making sure you’re doing ok and reminding you that my brother’s a great guy and I think he’s worth the wait.” 

“He definitely is. And thanks,” I reply with a shy smile. 

He smiles in return, then clears his throat. “And hey, I know I’m not Richard. I mean, I’m funnier and more good-looking than him,” he begins with a playful smirk, causing me to chuckle. “But if you’re ever feeling down or whatever, and you want someone to talk to or hang out with while he’s away, I’m here. I can tell you all sorts of embarrassing stories about him.” 

Laughing, I shake my head. “I might take you up on that.” 

At that moment, Richard steps into the bedroom, and the brothers exchange a look before William leaves us alone, winking at me as he walks through the door. Still smiling, I turn to Richard, and the love I feel for him, and the joy of moving in with him momentarily chase away the ache in my heart. For now, he is still here, within arms’ reach, and I can pretend that this day is only the beginning of our new life together and not bringing us closer to our separation. 

With a soft smile, Richard closes the space between us, and I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent as he wraps his strong arms around me. We remain in this embrace for a little while as the sun slowly dips below the houses at the end of the street, but eventually, Richard breaks the silence. “He’s not really funnier than me, is he?” 

My laughter echoes through the room as I look up to meet his eyes, which sparkle in the golden warmth of this summer evening. “No, of course not, love.”

A playful grin lights up his face. “Good.” 

Then he slowly leans in, and, understanding his intention, I stand on my tiptoes to meet his lips halfway in a tender kiss. He holds me tight, the fingers of one hand gently tracing patterns on my back while the other cradles my face, pulling me even closer and urging me to part my lips. I shiver as his tongue caresses mine, still marvelling at how easily he can awaken desire within me. Eventually, we are forced to break the kiss, and he rests his forehead against mine, his tender eyes slightly darker than usual. 

“I love you,” he says, his voice barely above a murmur. 

“I love you, too,” I reply in the same tone, pressing a lingering kiss onto his bearded jaw. 

“We’ve made some pretty good progress with the unpacking already, haven’t we?” 

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Good. So how about I start hinting that we’re getting tired so they leave and we can be alone?” 

I chuckle at his suggestive tone. “I like the way you think.” 

Tag list: @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @i-did-not-mean-to @xxbyimm @middleearthpixie @enchantzz @myselfandfantasy @notlostgnome @sazzlep @albionscastle @evenstaredits

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list or tagged in future chapters💙

[realmackross]

Time: August 13th, 2024 Content Warnings: None!

"Don't you, forget about me. Don't, don't, don't, don't. Don't you, forget about me." - Simple Minds

The feelings that Mackenzie held in her heart were mixed. Though the departure from Wicked’s Rest wouldn’t be permanent, as far as she was currently concerned, the idea of leaving a place that had oddly and painfully become her home over the past year was still hard to wrap her head around. But it hadn’t been a decision she had taken lightly. It was one of self-preservation, because if she didn’t do it, she was sure this town was going to claim another life, even if she was a member of the undead.

But what had been impossible before, when she left no trace and just disappeared, had seemed even harder now that she was doing it the right way. Alerting those she loved that she was leaving. That she was off to temporarily start a new life for herself. At least for as long as this new movie was shooting and the press tour was going. Of course there was still the murder of Brody Stevens lingering, even while he sat right next to her reassuring her that this was for the best. It was still a problem she wasn’t sure how to come to terms with – turn herself in or pray that she would be acquitted if the truth ever came out that she was the one to kill him. She certainly still looked guilty and though the love of her life had reassured her that even he knew it wasn’t intentional, Mackenzie still struggled.

“Hey, Kenz. Your flight leaves soon. Are you ready? Are we doing this? I don’t think Jack can stand this cat-carrier much longer, and we’ve got a long flight ahead.” Taylor held Jack’s carrier in her hands as she looked towards the zombie.

“Yeah, I just…You got enough brains for the flight right? I don’t want to do this if there’s any risk of a plane going down over the Pacific because of a zombie…” It sounded absurd, but if it had been one thing Mackenzie had learned in her time in Wicked’s Rest was that preparation was key, especially when it came to literal life and death.

“Yes, and I’ve already found a supplier in Australia, which means there’s more people out there like you. Outside of Wicked’s Rest. You’re not going to be alone…” She sent a soft, reassuring smile in her friend’s direction, “I’ll be out in the car.”

Nodding softly, Mackenzie turned back around to face the quiet house releasing a heavy sigh. As she looked around, she let her eyes take in all the good memories and even the bad memories with the friends she had made since her arrival. The sleepover and falling off over the upstairs bannister. The time spent with Alex talking about life and watching movies. The zombie movie marathon with Milo. And even the night of drinking with Chai that led to one of the worst mistakes of her life. More recently the relationship with Elora that allowed her a chance to see that love was possible again. And the birthday party of two with Winter, even after the strain on their friendship. She thought about all the nights spent alone watching tv late into the night and all the As Seen On TV stuff that had been dropped off in a box at a local shelter, along with some clothes and a donation check hoping it would do some good, despite all the harm that had seemed to come from her existence.

“This is a good thing, Babe. And I’ll be with you as long as I’m allowed.”

His voice was a reminder of a life when everything felt right. Felt good. And she closed her eyes taking in every word Brody whispered in her ear. God, how she wanted to hold him and kiss him again. But just having him in her presence was more than enough for what she was about to do, “You’re right. I’m just scared.”

Turning around to face him, she refrained from letting her hand run across his face knowing the outcome, “I know I need this. I just don’t want to hurt anybody.”

“You’ve got this. And Winter, she was right. Forgive yourself, Mackenzie Elizabeth Ross. There’s plenty of other times in life to feel guilty. If I can forgive you and still love you, then you can forgive you.” He shot his trademark smirk in her direction as she let her eyes scan over the house one last time.

“Okay, let’s do this. Let’s go make a movie in Australia.”

As the car pulled out of the driveway, Mackenzie thought back on all the people she was leaving. Winter. Monty and Kaden. Cass. Charlie. She thought of Sellama praying she was safe. She thought of Elora, Alex, Milo, Marcus and all the other friends who had come and gone hoping they were happy. She thought of Caleb, who she hadn’t seen, but had even wished him the best, hearing through town gossip that he had been freed of the demon that plagued him. And Jade? Well Jade was just Jade.

Wicked’s Rest had felt like a lifetime, despite it only being a year of her life. But she knew she’d keep the lessons she had learned close to her heart as she went onto bigger and better things. Knowing that even if the time there was brief, it had still made quite the impact.

“Hey, Mackenzie! Look!”

Blinking through the tears in her eyes to clear her vision, she quickly looked out the other side of the window of the car she was in to see Sellama pronking happily through the grass, “She’s alive? She’s alive!!!” Mackenzie rolled down the window and leaned forward screaming out the window, “SELLAMA! I LOVE YOU, GIRL! BE SAFE MY SWEET GIRL! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!”

At that moment, her decision had felt right. She was as free as Sellama was, pronking happily through the fields of Wicked’s Rest, and without second thought, Mack stuck her head out the window and screamed something of relief as the salt laced wind blew through her wavy blond hair. With Brody, Taylor, and even Jack at her side, Mackenzie felt safe. She'd be back eventually, but not until it felt right in her heart.

And as she boarded the plane to Australia knowing that she had people in her corner in all parts of the world, everything felt okay. It felt right. It felt whole.

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Scrooge | Rafe Cameron x reader

Seasonal Prompt List + Send one in with any one on THIS list :)

Requested by: anon

Prompts: (bolded)

10. “So…do you still hate Christmas?”

14. “Tis the season, I guess.”

a/n: Thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it xx 

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

It was the Cameron’s annual Christmas Party at their luxurious home on the inter-coastal waterway. The entire home was lit up in warm white lights, large wreaths on each of the windows and a Christmas tree on each of the porches. Green wreaths hung over the doors and were wrapped around the large bannisters on the front of the home. Rose didn’t spare any expense, even hiring someone design and decorate the home.

Plenty of food and drinks lined the tables on the inside of the home. The inside of the home was decorated just as beautiful as the outside, matching with the garland, red bows, warm white lights and an overly large christmas tree in the middle of the foyer. 

And Rafe hated it. He hated Christmas. It was always full of fake parties and fake family gatherings. There was no Christmas spirit in the Cameron’s house. Most of the time after this large party the family was whisked away to the Caribbeans, Bahamas or even Hawaii one year only to return before the school year started back. 

It was your first Christmas together and when you’d brought up what his family traditions were one day over dinner as Christmas neared, you were surprised at the hostility toward Christmas Rafe gave off. He told you he hated it. Which broke your heart because it was your favorite holiday. 

Wearing a beautiful velvet red dress you arrived at the Cameron’s home close to party time, only to be greeted by the Cameron’s butler and no sign of Rafe. You frown as you make your way through the home, admiring the beautiful decorations. “Rafe?” 

You found him by the drinks, a small glass of whisky in his hand, “Hi,” You greeted with a smile. 

He returns the smile, taking in your beauty, “Wow. You look gorgeous.” He presses a soft kiss to your cheek taking note of your lipstick. 

“Rafe, the house is beautiful.” You gaze around the room, “Rose outdid herself.” 

Rafe hums in response, “You mean Jessica outdid herself. Rose had nothing to do with the decorations. She hired someone.” 

“Oh,” You frowned. It was a family tradition for you and your family to decorate the home together. There was no formality and most of the decorations didn’t match, but that’s what made it special. 

Rafe makes you a glass handing it to you and clinks his against yours, “Tis the season, I guess.” He throws back the rest of his drink, “god I fucking hate this holiday.”

You frown at his comment, your very own scrooge, and take a sip, “You know my family is decorating the house tomorrow, I’d love for you to come.” You place a hand on his arm as he leads you to the rest of the party outside on the terrace. 

“I really don’t like Christmas, y/n, you know that.” 

“But it’s my favorite holiday and I would love to spend it with you. Can’t you do that for me? We can bake Christmas cookies, decorate the tree, drive around to see lights- all of my family Christmas traditions!” 

Rafe sighs in defeat, seeing the glee in your eyes, “I’m only doing this for you. I want to make you happy.” 

You smile, “By the time Christmas is over, I guarantee it will be your favorite too.” 

“Don’t hold your breath, sweetheart.” 

~ 

It was finally Christmas morning at your home. Rafe had skipped the family trip, insisting he wanted to spend Christmas with you and your family and his family didn’t disagree.

A fire crackled in the fireplace. The tree is lit up and decorated with ornaments from your childhood. Christmas music played softly in the background and the smell of your mother’s famous Christmas breakfast lingered in the air. 

Rafe is sitting on the couch in his pjs, admiring his surroundings and taking it all in. A real family Christmas and his first. He’d experienced all of your family Christmas traditions and at first he was weary, only wanting to make you happy. There was no way he would turn around and actually like christmas after hating it all these years, but here he was sitting on the couch in matching PJs sad to see it all coming to an end. 

You enter the living room, two cups of steaming hot cocoa, whipped cream and a peppermint stick on top. 

Rafe smiles when he sees you, taking the cup from you, “thank you baby.” 

You carefully sit next to him, curling into his side as you sip the hot chocolate. You peek up at him, seeing the matching glee in his eyes. “So…do you still hate Christmas?”

He takes a sip of his hot chocolate, remnants of the whipped cream on his lip. It makes you giggle and you wipe it off with your finger. 

He holds you closer to him, gazing around at the living room, the presents surrounding Christmas tree and the stockings hung on the mantle, full of goodies. He eyes the one on the very end, you’d helped him pick it out. His very own Christmas stocking. 

His lips press softly against your temple as he mumbles against you, “You’ve made me love Christmas.” 

comments, likes & reblogs greatly appreciated xx 

[snaillamp]

Sicker Than Dogs - Part 2

Matthew stopped in front of a small, two storey house, painted a vibrant yellow, now dulled by the night. Getting out, Matthew hauled the lighthouse keeper out of the car, practically carrying him past the front gate and to door. Enjar was slumped heavily against him, grunting softly with every uncomfortable step, his body shaking.

“Nearly there, En… Nearly there.”

Fumbling with the door, Matthew stumbled in, walking to the nearby lounge room and sitting Enjar down, then flicking on the light. “Charlotte?!” Matthew called, looking around for his wife. “Kitchen!” Charlotte replied, as Matthew shut the front door and kicked off his heavy boots. “You better not be getting snow all over my floors, my love!” She threatened sweetly from down the hall.

Charlotte appeared in the hallway and walked over to her husband. “Mm, you’re late. Dinner’s gonna be ready in a second though.” She nuzzled his neck, kissing his jawline with a tired smile. “Uhh, yeah, about that…” Matthew glanced away nervously. “Matthew Andrew Kindberg.” Charlotte snapped accusingly. “What did you do?” Matthew gestured with his head for her to follow, and she nodded, stepping quietly into the lounge room.

Slumped against the sofa, was Enjar, looking paler and sicker than ever. “Oh my god… Enjar?” She rushed over to him, feeling his temperature with the back of her hand. Enjar looked up at her, his intense blue-grey eyes looking a little duller behind the haze of sickness. He smiled weakly, “Surprise…” Enjar’s whisper was faint, barely audible as he let Charlotte fuss over him.

She pulled open his jacket, pressing her fingers to his neck and feeling his pulse, only to look up at her husband with concern. “Matt, he needs to be in hospital. This is… this is bad.” She looked up at Enjar when he grunted a little, lying back on the sofa, eyes sliding shut. “No… no hospital… please…” He whispered... begged, before a deep cough rattled out of him. Charlotte glared at Enjar for a second, before her face softened, cupping his cheek. His skin was burning up. “Enjar, honey… you need to go. They can help you there.”

Enjar shook his head, beginning to shake, eyes wide with fear. His voice cracked as he whispered, “Please… I can’t… I can’t…” Charlotte sighed, tucking some of Enjar’s long hair out of his face, as his breathing quickened. “Alright. But if you get worse, I’m taking you myself.”

Matthew watched Enjar deflate a little. “Fine…” He whispered in defeat, letting his head rest against the back of the sofa. “I’ll go get the spare room ready.” Matthew murmured as Charlotte looked at her friend. She nodded at her husband, before going back to the kitchen, turning out the light in the lounge room to let Enjar rest.

Once the soup was done, Charlotte came back to check on Enjar. He was curled over himself a little, head resting on the uncomfortable armrest of the sofa. Going over to him, she touched his shoulder, shaking him a little. “Mmph…” Her friend mumbled, looking up at Charlotte. “Aww, you look awful, Enjar. Do you want something to eat?” Enjar groaned, shaking his head.

“Alright, I think the spare room is made up now. Oh honey… You really are going through the wars, huh?” Enjar whined, clutching his stomach and nodding, he looked so forlorn. “Come on, En. Let’s get you to bed.” Charlotte helped the man stand. He was slightly taller than her, by maybe half an inch, as she helped carry him to the stairs.

“Can you climb?” She asked, looking to Enjar, who’s face was gaunt and pale. He clenched his teeth, jaw tightening and nodded. Charlotte helped him up the first step, then the second, then the third. Enjar’s hands gripped the bannister tightly, his knuckles white and strained as he held on.

~~

Enjar’s mind swayed as he nodded. The bannister was cold under his fingers, and he held onto it tightly. It was nice, solid and smooth, the wooden beam curved perfectly in his hand. Each step he took rattled his brain in his skull, the gentle creaking of the stairs beneath his boots echoing over and over in his head.

Eventually, they made it to the halfway point, where Enjar took a break, his hand pressed against the wall as he caught his breath, eyes sliding shut again. He heard more footsteps and murmuring voices around him, before another set of shoulders appeared under his arm. Matthew’s body lifted him up, and together the husband and wife carried their friend up the rest of the stairs.

Enjar’s eyes opened as he began to climb the stairs again, the dark, blurry world around him suddenly lit up as a light flicked on. He squinted in the yellow light, the hallway tilting as he stumbled with numb, heavy feet towards the room.

He felt the bed beneath him as he was lowered onto it, someone taking off his shoes and jacket. His eyes had shut again, but he hadn’t even noticed. He groaned as he was shifted under the covers, which were quite cold without the warmth of a body in them. Grimacing, Enjar sighed, letting the soft mattress absorb him, the smell of the sheets different to his own. The whole house smelled different, like dust and baking bread, compared to the salty sea air of his own home. He felt a hand rest on his forehead, gentle and soft…

Charlotte’s hand.

Not the hand of the nurses who had hurt him before…

Charlotte would keep him safe…

~~

Charlotte looked up at Matthew. “He’s out. Matt, honey, I don’t like this. You should've taken him to hospital, he’s too feverish.” Matthew sighed, nodding. “I know I should’ve taken him but… He begged me Charlotte, he looked so scared and I just… I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” Charlotte nodded, looking down at Enjar again. He seemed to be relaxed enough, but Charlotte was still worried. “I’ll check on him every few hours.” She whispered, going to the door. “Let him sleep. You need dinner.”

Matthew nodded, following his wife down the stairs and to the kitchen, where she served up the soup. They ate in silence, both thinking about their sick guest. “I’ll wash up. You go check him.” Matthew said, standing up and grabbing Charlotte’s empty bowl. Charlotte nodded, going upstairs to check on Enjar again.

When she peaked into his room, she saw him moving in bed, groaning a little as he slept. His head tossed from side to side, as he rolled onto his left side, then after a while, his right, each time letting out a pained gasp or moan.

Charlotte stepped into the room, going over to Enjar and feeling his hot skin. He was even worse. Pulling the extra blanket off him, Charlotte re-adjusted the sheet over Enjar’s body, letting the cool air wash over him. That seemed to help, and he calmed down a little. Even in the darkness, Charlotte could see the sweat staining Enjar’s clothes.

Maybe Matthew would have some that he could lend Enjar while Charlotte washed his?

At that moment Enjar groaned, his eyes opening. They flew around the room, focusing on a corner, his breath quickening as he whispered, slurred, nonsensical whispers as he pushed himself up the headboard, seeing something only he could... Terrified of it.

~~

Enjar watched the crouched figure move in the corner. When he blinked it was gone. He glanced around, looking for it again, then he saw it.

The figure stood at the end of his bed, half its’ head missing…

No.

Half his head missing.

His brain matter was spilling out, as the zombie like figure crawled up onto the bed. Enjar tried to move, but couldn’t, he wasn’t strong enough.

“Magnus… please… I’m sorry... I’m sorry you’re dead, I’m sorry couldn’t save you... please... please don’t hurt me... please don’t be mad...” he whispered, looking at the ghost of his former comrade crawl towards him. Enjar felt the headboard press against his back, he must’ve moved… ‘How can you be here… You’re DEAD!’ Enjar screamed in his mind, as his fallen comrade straddled him, leaning close and grabbing Enjar’s shoulders.

Enjar wanted to scream, the darkness engulfing the room as the only thing he could look at was the gore in front of him. “It’s okay…” Magnus cooed, wrapping his arms around Enjar’s shoulders, his head mess dripping out of his skull like thick slime.

“You’re okay, I’m here, I’m here…” A gentle... female... voice whispered as he guided his comrade’s face to his brain covered shoulder. Enjar tried to pull back as the chunks of tissue were brought closer and closer to his face. "No... no... no..." He begged, as the wet, cold brain matter touched his face, sending shivers over his skin.

A light flicked on, bathing the room in a sudden wash of light. Enjar’s eyes snapped shut, the brightness hurting him. When he opened them again, he was being held close by Charlotte, her hands stroking his hair as he sobbed into her shoulder. “What happened?” Matthew’s voice appeared from somewhere. Enjar looked at his hands, wrapped around Charlotte’s waist. She was rocking him gently from side to side. “I don’t know. He’s delirious, must’ve been hallucinating.”

Matthew froze. “What? Hallucinating?” Charlotte nodded, continuing to rock Enjar back and forth as his sobs eased into shuddering breaths. He was staring at nothing with glassy eyes, his mind still reeling. ‘It wasn’t real… it couldn’t be real...’ He gulped in some air, closing his eyes and bowing his head, feeling Charlotte’s fingers trail down his head and begin to rub his back, right between his shoulders. It made him feel sick. He pulled away from her with a whimper, looking up as Matthew sank onto the bed. “Enjar, are you okay? You look really shaken up.”

Enjar shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself and focusing of breathing. His heart pounded in his ears as he repeated a phrase over and over again in his head. ‘It wasn’t real. He’s dead. Buried. In the ground. Sealed in a coffin. It’s been 10 years.’

“What’s he saying?” Matthew spoke up, Enjar feeling the bed shift as he leaned over. “..znt rill… brid… the ground… silled cuffh… teh… yirz…”

Charlotte sighed, “We have to take him Matt, he’s really unwell. I’m gonna call an ambulance.” She leaned over to Enjar, touching his shoulder, watching as the lighthouse keeper flinched away. “Enjar. I’m gonna take you to hospital. You need medical attention.” Enjar’s eyes grew wide as a pit of fear settled in his stomach, his body quivering like a leaf in a blizzard.

“No, no, no, please! Please don’t take me there, please, please please! They hurt me there... They touched me...” He looked to Charlotte, fear in his eyes, suddenly much more aware of their presence, his mind seemily switching into survival mode. Neither Matthew, nor Charlotte had ever seen Enjar, or anyone, look so scared as they glanced at each other, worried.

“Please…” Enjar mumbled as he shook his head, pulling his knees up and hugging them tightly. “Please no…”

Matthew sighed, “Charlotte, we can’t. Look at him. He’s a mess. We’ll only make him worse. Besides, it’s snowing so badly out there, we’d have to walk...”

Charlotte huffed, “Matt, look at him, he’s getting worse. He needs a hospital.” Enjar looked up at her, “No… please, please I ca-” Enjar’s body rippled as he shuddered. “En?” Charlotte looked over at him as he gagged, the colour draining from his face. “Shit, get him up.” Matthew spoke, rushing to Enjar’s side and pulling him off the bed.

He dragged his wrenching friend down the hall, straight to the bathroom. Enjar wrapped his arms around it, gratefully appreciating the cool temperature of the porcelain seeming to help him clear his mind. Matthew’s fingers carded through his hair as he collected it up, holding it out of the way as Enjar wretched, convulsing as he tried to force something up. He slumped over the bowl, dry heaving and gasping for breath, looking green.

Charlotte came over with a glass of water, rubbing Enjar’s back gently up and down as he dry heaved more, his face and body drenched with a cold, clammy sweat. After a few minutes, he leaned back, Charlotte handing him the glass and letting him sip it.

Enjar’s head was spinning, but the water was nice. It tasted good and made him feel refreshed. He felt it flow down into his stomach, which started to churn the second the water settled.

“Mmhhnnope…” He groaned, throwing himself forwards as the water came straight back up. It felt good to throw something up at least, his body seemly relaxing as it was finally able to do what it had been trying to for hours.

Enjar groaned again, going limp against the toilet, no energy left to even hold his head up. He couldn’t move, but he was just savouring the pleasant feeling of not needing to throw up anymore. Matthew and Charlotte pulled him up and leaned him against a nearby wall, Charlotte finding a face cloth in a drawer nearby and wetting it with cool water to dab Enjar’s forehead.

He was panting, sweating buckets, barely able to lift his head as he slumped against the wall, humming softly at the cool cloth touching his neck and collarbones, Charlotte dapping every bit of exposed skin she could find.

As the water evaporated, it cooled Enjar’s skin, making him feel a little more comfortable. “Maybe if we just cool him down, he’ll feel better.” Matthew suggested, earning a look from Charlotte. “He needs to be hooked up to an IV and given fluids and antibiotics.” Matthew sighed, exhasperated, “Please. Just tonight, tomorrow you can take him.” Charlotte looked at her watch, sighing. “They clear the streets at 4 am, I need to be gone by 5:45, if he hasn’t improved by then, I’ll bring him with me.”

Matthew nodded, Enjar moaning softly in protest before coughing a little. The husband and wife walked their friend back to bed, Matthew slipping off the already drenched shirt and laying Enjar down. “I’ll look after him, you go and rest.” He murmured to Charlotte, who yawned and nodded. “Let me know if you need anything, my love.” She kissed him on the cheek, leaving the room. Enjar cracked open his eyes, looking at the couple.

When Charlotte had left the room, he smirked. “What?” Matthew asked, grabbing the cloth from earlier and dabbing Enjar’s chest. “You’re ssso cute togettthhher…” He mumbled, sounding slightly drunk, causing Matthew to grin like an idiot.

“Yeah… I love her.”

Enjar nodded weakly. “Gooood. Neeever ssstop…” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut for a second, before opening them again.

“Did you ever want a girlfriend or boyfriend or whatever? Cause for a single guy, you sure seem to give out a hell of a lot of relationship advice.” Matthew piped up, placing the cloth back in the bowl with a chuckle. He wanted to distract Enjar a little, and this was probably the best way.

Enjar thought for a second. His mind was slow to turn his answer into words. “Nah…” He finally managed. “I’mmmm happy the way thingssss are… I like... being alone.” He grimaced through a painful gulp, taking a moment to catch his breath. “I... like the way I live, how… frrrrree and happy I am. I donnnnn’t think I could make a relationssshhhhip last anyway… I’ve jussssst… got no interest in it... I guess I’m... broken or ssssometttthhhing.”

Matthew frowned at his friend’s slow, slurred words. “Broken?” Enjar sighed, sinking further into the bed. “I jusssst… there’s a disconnect… between everyone else and... me…” Sniffing, Enjar wiped his nose. “Eben befor mby attaggaaah-aah-AAHHTSHW!” Enjar rubbed his eyes, looking annoyed. “I never thought about... sex or relationssshhips… Everyone else, it wassss like that was all ttthhhey thought abouuut… they put ssssuch a biiiig emphasissss on-” A coughing fit interrupted Enjar, forcing him to sit up and hunch over, before he managed to catch his breath and lie back against the headboard.

He shivered, pulling the sheets further over his waist. “You were saying?” Matthew reminded him, sitting on the bed beside Enjar’s feet. “Huh... uhh… oh… yeah… Everyone just makes... sssex and relationships thisssss big ttttthhhhing, but they really aren’t? I don’t know… to me sex and romance isssss like... it’sssss like.. a necessary p-part of ssssocccciiiety. Rules people follow... I don’t... know... I just never got it… Like I ssssaid’m probymissin somen, or broken or whatever…” Enjar mumbled, sighing as he pulled some hair from his chest and tucking it over his shoulder, looking tired. “You’re not broken, En... I’m sure.” Matthew comforted his friend.

“Can we taaaa’bout...hh complicated rules ssssociety later…? My brain can’t handle it rihnnow.” A sneeze rose up from his chest as he lay down, groaning. “Okay, okay…” Matthew chuckled. Enjar groaned, nodding. “Can we talk about like… how I feellll like I’m... standing on death’s door.” ” He groaned, voice gravelly.

Matthew leaned over, rubbing his friend’s shoulder. “Did you want flu meds?” Enjar shook his head, forlorn. “Can’t keep it-” He coughed, interrupting his sentence. “-eugh… down…” He finished, sighing as he shut his eyes. ‘My mind is so slow and thick… I feel like I’m drowning in thick mist…’

Enjar groaned as he opened his eyes, looking at the dark room. He was being watched, but Matthew was gone, the door shut, no sound anywhere. Enjar looked to his side, glancing at the window nearby, a crack in the curtains letting in the orange glow of a street light. Reaching over with a shaking hand, he clicked on a side table lamp, bathing the room in a soft, warm light.

The feeling began to fade as he glanced around the room, ignoring the moving shadows. Rolling over with a groan, he shuddered, swallowing the urge to throw up again, he didn’t feel like stumbling through the dark house in the dark, especially when he would wake up Matthew and Charlotte.

Then they’d usher him back to bed, or even more likely, a hospital… He didn’t want to bother them, they both had work in the morning anyway. He grunted, sitting up and reaching for a light blanket, felling a little cold. As he sat up, he realised he still wasn’t wearing a shirt, the cold air brushing across his back, almost pleasantly, if he wasn’t frozen. Grabbing the blanket, Enjar arranged it over his legs, but before he lay back, he froze, his stomach sinking like a stone as the sensation sent shivers down his spine.

Someone’s cold, dead hands had just caressed his back, trailing their fingers gently down his neck, between his shoulders and all the way down the centre of his back to his hips… Enjar’s breath caught in his throat, as every muscle in his body tightened, ready to whirl around and attack whatever it was touching him.

A gentle whisper tickled his ear as the hands clamped down on his shoulders, massaging them gently. Enjar gasped, his stomach tensing as the fingers danced down his back, sliding around to his front and feeling his stomach. His breathing quickened, and he couldn’t bring himself to look as the hands went up to his chest, before down again, past his stomach and towards…

“No.” Enjar grunted, launching himself off the bed, and tumbling to the ground with a loud thud. He scrambled backwards, glancing up at the bed, but there was nothing there. “What…?” He whispered, looking around the room. His chest was heaving as he panted, heart pounding loudly in his chest, as he continued to push back until his back hit a wall. Leaning against it, Enjar curled up, wrapping his arms around his waist protectivley, closing his eyes and slowly controlling his breath.

After a few seconds, it was shaky, but slower, more controlled, and he looked down at his torso. “No hands… You’re just imagining things…” He breathed, gulping back some air before his head flopped forward, heavy and aching.

He didn’t notice the door opening, until a voice spoke up, causing him to jump.

“E-Eh..jar?” Charlotte asked though a yawn. “Y’ ok-okay?” She yawned again, frowning when she noticed how frightened Enjar looked. Enjar looked up, relaxing when he recognised her face. ‘Charlotte. I’m safe with Charlotte…She’s not him.’ He thought, wincing as he tried to stand, but he was too weak. Huffing in frustration, he dropped himself back down, then exploded into a coughing fit. While hunching forward, Charlotte’s delicate hand coming to rest on his back. It was nice, her hand was warm, alive, not…

Enjar’s mind remembered the dancing fingers, and he shrugged off Charlotte’s hand.

“Geddoff…” He gasped, feeling the tears prick in his eyes.“Oh… Enjar, talk to me. What happened, honey?” Charlotte walked over to the bed, grabbing the blanket Enjar had wanted and wrapping it around his tremoring shoulders. Enjar hugged it tight, grateful for a barrier between her hands and his skin.

“Enjar…” Charlotte murmured, sitting beside her friend, pulling him close and guiding his head to rest on her shoulder. It was nice, her body was warm and she smelled like fresh linen and floral shampoo. Enjar let his eyes shut as she held him in tense silence, before she asked a final time. “What happened?” All Enjar could manage to do was whisper as his eyes opened, staring at nothing as the memories flashed before his eyes.

“The hands… They were… they touched me… my back and-and my…” He gulped back a sob as Charlotte shushed him. “Shhh, you’re okay now. I’m here. The only hands that will touch you are mine, and only where and when you want.” Enjar sniffed, leaning into her more, nodding.

He heard footsteps gently padding down the hall. “He okay?” A tired rasping, voice asked. Matthew stood in the doorway, the hall light now flicked on. Charlotte hummed, Matthew coming into the room and sitting on the bed, watching his wife work her magic on his friend with concern. “What happened?” Charlotte shrugged slightly, as Matthew looked at Enjar’s vacant, haunted stare, the blanket hiding his shaking a little.

“He said hands were touching him.”

Matthew frowned, his eyes darting from side to side as he flicked through memories, something Enjar might have told him about hands.

Enjar enjoyed the sound of Charlotte’s voice vibrating in her chest. It reminded him of when he was small, and he would lie against his mother as she stroked his hair and told him stories after a nightmare. He smiled, ever so slightly, and let his body relax completely into Charlotte’s, sighing a little as his eyes shut again. He heard Charlotte and Matthew talking, though their voices were muffled, blurring together, before Enjar coughed a little, sitting up with a sniff, feeling thick slime drop into the back of his throat.

He swallowed it, tilting his head back and looking at the ceiling as one of his eyes leaked a tear. He wasn’t crying, his eyes were just watering because of the coughing. He groaned, his reeling mind feeling better, but physically?

He felt worse than ever.

He was glad that at least his brain felt normal, or as normal as it could when he was this sick. It felt like it was actually inside his skull for once, his thoughts a little clearer and calmer. It felt better with people around. Safer.

“What happened, man?” Matthew asked, sliding up beside him.

Enjar sighed, looking at him. “Hmm… Felt hands… they were all over me… touching me… like- Like they did a long time ago and…” Enjar gulped, looking at his friend for reassurance. Matthew nodded, looking concerned. “Go on.” He whispered, nodding at Enjar. “Ihadtoged... away… so I... launccchhh myssself at thgroun-“ A sneeze finished his sentence for him, and Enjar gulped down the slime dripping into the back of his throat.

“I just… I donnnknow wa’ssss happening…” His words slurred together more, as he grimaced, a wave of nausea rising up from his stomach. Moaning a little, Enjar touched his stomach, before shuddering. “Ugh… Nhhh…” He held his breath in an effort to hold back the rising nausea, grunting as he took a breath every few seconds. It made his headache worse.

“En, do you need to throw up?” Charlotte asked, her hand hovering above his back as she instinctively moved to touch him. She hesitated, glancing at Matthew, who shook his head slightly. “Nyeh… ghuhh… No… I’m… ok-kay…” Enjar began panting as his lungs screamed for for air, forcing him to swallow more. “Ac-asshhually, no…” Enjar felt his stomach flip as it threatened to expel his stomach contents again. “Kyeh-” Enjar winced as he was pulled to his feet a little to fast, Charlotte and Matthew dragging him to the bathroom as Enjar hung limp between them, focusing on not letting his body betray him.

They made it to the bathroom just in time, Enjar collapsing on top of the toilet bowl, his body convulsing as thick, slimy acid came up.

Once he was finished, Enjar actually felt a little better, his body seemingly relaxing, now that it had finally emptied his stomach of whatever it wanted to get rid of.

He slid to the floor, curing up slightly on his side, panting hard as he lay against the cold tiles. His eyes slid shut slowly, his breaths slowing and his heart pounding in his aching, pounding, ringing ears. He groaned slightly, his breath hot against his skin, but his body shivering with cold.

“En, please don’t fall asleep on the floor.” Matthew pleaded tiredly.

Enjar groaned in reply, barely managing to roll onto his back before he looked up at his friends with half open eyes. “I can’t… get…” He mumbled, as he felt the cold hands of Matthew and Charlotte haul him to his feet. The world went muffled around him as vertigo wracked his mind, his knees dropping out from under him as his head dropped forward. He sighed softly, the dizziness beginning to fade, but his feet clumsy as he failed to properly put one foot in front of the other.

He was dragged back to bed a stumbling mess by Charlotte and Matthew, relief flooding has mind when his body sank into the soft mattress. A moan of relief and exhaustion fell from his lips as he was tucked into bed again, head pounding and ears aching and his nose filled with mucus...

Much to his relief, his stomach did not feel as angry as before, but he had a feeling it would return. “I can watch him for a bit.” He heard Charlotte’s voice, quiet and low. “No, he’s gonna be fine I think. Come back to bed, your shift is in a few hours.” Matthew, tired and worried…

Enjar felt fingers squeeze his wrist for a moment. “Pulse is down a little… oh… fine. I’ll come…” Charlotte mumbled, just as tired as her husband, though she was better at hiding it. Enjar grunted softly as he sank into sleep, his mind engulfed in strange fever dreams he wouldn’t even remember after he woke up.

~~

Charlotte yawned, getting up and sighing. She’d managed to get some amount of decent sleep, but Enjar had kept bothher and her husband awake for a few more hours than she would’ve liked. Not that she minded of course, she’d do anything for Enjar, but the didn’t mean she couldn’t be slightly annoyed by it. It was more worry now, Enjar’s condition was beyond bad… He needed a hospital and Enjar and Matthew kept refusing. She was going to take Enjar to hospital kicking and screaming, if he could even manage to kick or scream in his condition.

Once she was ready, she cracked open the door to Enjar’s room, checking on her friend.

He seemed to be okay, slumped in bed under some blankets, his quiet breaths slow, but constant. Shutting the door, she went downstairs, preparing breakfast as Matthew trudged downstairs. He was just as tired and worried about Enjar as she was. He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her cheek.

“Morning…” He mumbled in her ear, as she turned and kissed her husband properly.

“Morning.”

They held each other for a moment, both thinking about Enjar sleeping upstairs and the night’s events. “What are me gonna do about En?” Matthew mumbled, going to the table as Charlotte served the steaming, delicious eggs she’d prepared. Charlotte shrugged, digging into her breakfast. “Maybe we can call Anna and she can take him? She’s better at managing him when he’s being difficult.”

Matthew shook his head, “She’s in Italy, conference… I know he should be in hospital, Charlotte… but you saw how scared he was last night. I- He trusts me, and I can’t just break that... Even if it’s for his own good. Besides, if he wakes up in hospital, he’ll lose his mind. He feels safe here, if he does’t we won’t get anywhere. He has to go willingly and I don’t think he will.”

Charlotte sighed, “I’ll check him over before I leave, but if he’s not okay, we are taking him to where he can get help.” Charlotte was firm as she looked down her nose at her husband, who sighed nodding. “Okay... Fine. But, at least let me talk to him first.” Charlotte nodded, and they went back to eating their breakfast in silence.

“Coffee?” Matthew asked, as Charlotte cleaned the plates. “Yeah, of course.” She smiled as Matthew began brewing the coffee, glancing at her watch. “I’ll go check him now.” She indicated with her head up the stairs. Matthew nodded, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard, he didn’t look happy, because he knew what his wife was going to find. They both did.

Charlotte made her way up to Enjar’s room. Peeking in, he was still fast asleep, snoring softly, curled up on his side, his scar on his face glinting slightly in the dim light. She made her way over to him, looking at his pale shoulder poking out from under the blankets. She should grab some of Matthew’s clothes for him to change into if he woke up, he’d probably be freezing. Feeling Enjar’s forehead, her lips pursed as she felt how warm it still was. There was a light sheen of sweat still on his skin, and Enjar winced slightly at the touch.

His arms were tucked close to his chest, and Charlotte carefully pulled back a little of the blanket, careful not to let the cold air in much, especially with Enjar’s chest exposed. She found the pulse o n his wrist, pressing it gently, not wanting to risk waking him by tocuhing his neck. That had always been a no go zone for him.

She looked at the fob watch attached to her scrubs, timing the beats, slow but within a safe range. He was probably just sleeping. Slipping out quickly, Charlotte returned with a thermometer.

She checked it, 38.2ºC.

“High, but it’ll go down, right?” She whispered, glancing at her friend who twitched slightly in his sleep.

The nurse watched as Enjar inhaled deeply through his mouth, sighing and relaxing into the mattress more. He did looked so comfortable and calm, and he was sleeping, so he’d be okay on his own for a few hours, right? She lived close by she could come back during her lunch break and check in... ‘Now I’m starting to sound like Matthew.’ She thought to herself, unimpressed.

But it was so different being beside Enjar... Actually looking at him... She would feel awful if she had to rip him out of this state of oblivious bliss. Rest would do him good.

Sneaking back out of the room, she made her way back downstairs. Matthew placed the coffee he’d made for her in front of her, in her favourite mug. She sipped it gratefully, appreciating the warmth the drink brought to her insides. “I can come check on him during my break. He’s resting and...” She spoke into her cup, as her husbands eyes looked over the rim of his own mug, ‘I don’t wanna disturb him more than he is...’ Charlotte finished in her mind.

Matthew finished his sip, nodding as he swallowed. “Good. That’s good. I’ll go by the cabin today and grab some stuff, you know what he’s like about charity, he won’t take anything from us.” Charlotte nodded, finishing her coffee and glancing at her watch.

“I’d better grab my stuff, I need to go. Bye, my love.” She kissed Matthew’s cheek, rushing back upstairs to grab her bag before leaving a shirt and jacket of Matthew’s at the foot of Enjar’s bed. With a final, worried glance she left the room, leaving Enjar gently snoring alone in the dark.

She rushed outside, glancing up at the dark clouds. It looked like snow was coming. Hurrying to her car, she slid inside and turned on the engine, the quiet rumble filling the street, and the heating immediately blasting, hot, dry air in her face.

The drive to the hospital was quiet, she drover through the mostly still empty streets, until she pulled up at her work. Hurrying into the hospital, she shivered, getting inside to see her boss and carry out her day. She didn’t expect much work to be done, there never was.

That morning she fished a fishhook out of a man’s finger and helped a woman with her sick baby, classic nervous first time mother. Before she knew it, her lunch break had arrived, and she rushed back home in the gently falling snow to check on Enjar.

Getting inside, she went up to his room, finding him curled in the same position on his side, the clothes untouched, his sleepy, snoring breaths still slow and constant. Creeping over to him, she took his temperature again. 38ºC, it had gone down… barely...

Feeling Enjar’s forehead, she sighed, he was still wracked with fever. Tucking a little of his hair out of face, sighing as he didn’t even move. She was so used to him slightly flinching at every touch, it was weird for him not to.

Going back down stairs, she made a quick shopping list, before getting back in the car and driving back to work.

Her afternoon would be just as uneventful as her morning, but she supposed that was better than the other option.

~~

Charlotte returned through the door, arms laden with bags of shopping. She waddled through to the kitchen, unpacking everything and putting it away.

She pulled the electrolyte drink from one of the bags and walked upstairs, going into Enjar’s room. He was still there, slumped on his side in the exact same position as before. However, as she walked closer, he began to stir, inhaling deeply and rolling slowly onto his back, stretching his limbs. He sighed as his body relaxed, before his eyes drifted to Charlotte, standing beside him.

“Hey…” He croaked, his voice weak.

“Hey. Here, try to drink this, it’ll help you feel a bit better.” Charlotte opened the bottle, handing it to Enjar, who sipped it. “Mmm… how did you know I liked the red ones…?” He murmured, smirking at her. “Oh… a little birdie told me.” She replied. Charlotte had honestly just grabbed the first one she’d seen, but it was good to know that Enjar liked it.

“What time is it?” Enjar asked, his faint voice gravelly as he pushed himself up against the headboard of the bed behind him. “Uh… just going 5 pm. You slept all day.” Enjar raised his eyebrows as he took another sip of the drink, before sealing it and placing it on the side table, next to the lamp. He rubbed his temples, sighing as he let his head drop back against the headboard.

Charlotte watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed, swallowing what she assumed was more slime dripping down from his sinuses. “You need anything? Want anything?” Charlotte asked, Enjar’s tired, dark, blue-grey eyes meeting her own, as he smiled thankfully. “Tissues might be nice… maybe some water… I don’t feel hungry yet…nnnhh...” He mumbled, sounding congested, before sighing as he rubbed his eyes.

Charlotte nodded, going downstairs and returning with a box of tissues, the waste paper basket from her office and a glass of water. She handed them to a grateful Enjar, who spent the next few minutes clearing his nose of snot.

After he was done, he gasped, inhaling deeply through his nose. “Ugh… that’s so much better…” He sounded less congested after that. “Thanks…” He mumbled, sliding back under the covers and shivering. Charlotte noticed the goosebumps on his bare skin. “I left one of Matthew’s shirts here. You can wear it if you want.” She held up the shirt, Enjar eyeing it, before reaching out a slightly shaking arm for it. Charlotte walked over, helping him sit up, before handing the lighthouse keeper her husband’s shirt. Enjar shrugged it on, the fabric fitting weirdly against his body.

Matthew was considerably taller than Enjar, and not as muscular, so Enjar’s frame filled it out a lot more. However, it was a lot longer than what Enjar usually wore, but he didn’t seem to mind. He hummed, lowering himself back down onto the mattress and shutting his eyes. “Thnk-yhh…” He mumbled into the pillow, causing Charlotte to smirk, nodding as she left the room.

~~

Once downstairs, she began her usual routine, making dinner, and turning on the TV, watching the news. She heard Matthew stumble through the door after a while, shaking snow from his jacket and shoes before wandering into the kitchen.

“Good evening, madam.” He smirked, grabbing Charlotte’s hand and kissing it, making her giggle. “Well, good evening, my dashing, young sir.” She grabbed his jaw, kissing him directly on the lips, much to his surprise. “Well, hello to you too.” Matthew retorted, his arms sliding around his wife as he held her close. “And how was your day?” He asked, kissing her hair. “Good…” Charlotte mumbled into Matthew’s chest, “Not much happened, so it was pretty calm. Saw a really cute baby though…”

She nuzzled her husband’s chest, hearing the vibrations inside as he laughed, “Oh, you and your babies. Just be patient my love.” Matthew smiled down at his wife, who smiled back up at him, only to wriggle free from his grip and go back to making dinner.

“Speaking of patients, how’s our patient?” Matthew asked, sliding into a dining room chair, watching Charlotte work. “Good, he woke up a little bit ago, seems to be better. I gave him a drink and finally got him into a shirt, but he seems to be stable.” Matthew nodded, rubbing his chin. “Hm, I might go up and see him, if he’s awake.” Charlotte turned around, nodding. “I think he’d like that.”

Matthew groaned slightly as he got up, walking over to his wife and kissing her on the cheek, then making his way upstairs to see his friend. The man cracked open the door, looking at his friend as he slept. Taking a step into the room, Matthew watched Enjar twitch, before he lifted his head up and looked over at the doorway. “Mm… Matt…?” Enjar mumbled, forcing himself to sit as his friend sat beside him.

“How you feeling?” Matthew asked, looking at Enjar’s tired, gaunt face. “Shit…” Enjar replied flatly. Matthew pursed his lips, looking his friend up and down. “Yeah… Hey, I brought some stuff back from your place, in case you wanted it. Just like, clothes, your tooth brush and shit.” Enjar’s eyes lit up at the mention of his own stuff. “Thank you…” Enjar leaned forward hugging his friend, Matthew’s eyes widening when he touched Enjar’s skin. It was still so warm. “I’ll come bring it up later, you relax up here, man.” Enjar nodded, wincing slightly and lying back against the pillow, sighing, his eyes sliding shut again. Matthew sat with him for a moment, until he was sure his friend was asleep.

~next~

~masterlist~

✨Taglist✨

@i-eat-worlds

@emcscared-whumps

[writersblockedx]

All Consuming: Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Alienation 

Pairing - Tenth Doctor x Fem!Reader Summary - By pure accident, Y/n comes across something she shouldn't have. Warnings - A lot of angst, mentions of death and violence Words - 1.8K

⇦  Previous Chapter / Next Chapter  ➪ Series Masterlist / MASTERLIST

The Doctor was seated alone as he awaited Y/n's return. Before they were able to slip out of the hospital, the patient had been bombarded by serval nurses, demanding that she stay put and be cared for. And no matter how much each of them would have liked that, they couldn't stay, any longer and the Pilot Fish or the Bane would have been able to gather her location and would already be on their way.

The doors to the TARDIS swung open and Y/n wandered inside, a variety of drugs in her hold. "I've got something called Tremadali, Andonsetroin and a bunch of other stuff!" She grinned as she raised her head from reading the labels to glance over at the boy.

The Doctor hummed and walked over to her, taking the bottles into his hold. He flicked the lid of the Tremadali sniffed the inside and winced, "You probably shouldn't have that." He said, almost to himself as he put the bottle into his coat pocket. Then he took the Andonsetroin and did the same, flicking the lid and sniffing the insides. "Definitely don't take that!" Again, putting the bottle into his coat. He looked over everything else and shrugged, "They should be fine. Average painkillers. Just don't take too many of them."

And like that, he spun, shrugged his coat off and placed it over the control panel, ready to leave once more. "I'd say you're no Doctor but, well..." She trailed off as her gaze returned to the man who showed no enthusiasm or no sign of a witty reply. Something of which she had become normalised to lately. "Doctor? Is everything alright?" She questioned him. He paused and fought to keep his gaze on the girl without guilt trying to drag him away. Something of which had only pulled Y/n in closer. "If this is about earlier, if this is about the kiss, then I'm sorry, I truly didn't mean for it to-"

"No, God no, it's not that." He cut her off as they faced one another again. "You are extortionary, you're brilliant, so brilliant in fact that technically you shouldn't exist right now." He went on with soft eyes and an even softer expression. "Even if every thought in my brain is telling me that you shouldn't be in front of me right now, I can't help but agonise over the fact I might lose you."

A light smile passed across the girl's face as her hands reached up, cupping the sides of his cheeks, "If I've worked out anything recently, it's that if anyone going is to save me, it'll be you, Doctor."

He nodded before a wide grin spread over his lips and he retracted from her touch. "Come on then!" He beamed as if his previous words hadn't been ones of despair. "We need to keep moving."

Y/n followed him over to the controls, as she held onto the bannister. The Doctor did his usual flicking of switches and pushing of leavers before the TARDIS was travelling somewhere new within time and space.

When it landed, and they both settled back on their feet, the Doctor practically bolted for the exit. All without an info dump on where they were - and how safe they might be. "Well?" Y/n questioned before he couldn't quite reach the doors. He halted to turn and faced her, raising his brows, "Not going to tell me where we are? What planet? What year? What species?"

He shook his head with a grin, happy to be hiding this from her. "No, not this time. Thought I'd make it a surprise. You can guess where we are." He gleamed as he slipped out the doors and waited for Y/n to follow him.

She was just about to jog for the doors, just as he had, when her gaze spotted something. Still hung over the TARDIS controls was his coat. "One second!" She called out to him before walking back over and grasping the material of which he had so easily forgotten.

She flung the coat over her arm, stopping once more as a thud came from her feet. Her gaze dragged downwards, a small file now on the floor which had fallen from one of the many pockets in the Doctor's coat. Y/n leaned down and scooped it up. Her eyes scanned it and her curiosity grew. She probably should have put it back in the coat, ignored it and pretended as if she had never seen it. It wasn't her's, so it wasn't her business. What she had yet to realise, was that this file was hers, in fact, if she were to flick to the first page, she would have been greeted with her name in print.

A passing thought said that her and the Doctor were close enough now. A passing thought of which she obliged. Doing so, she saw the first page and she saw her name. Many questions flooded in. First of being, what was this exactly? And second being, why hadn't the Doctor told her already?

She flicked to the next page and suddenly found her eyes beginning to water. There stared back at her were the test results of the blood tests. These blood tests were then stated as having 'high levels of radiation'. Something of which Y/n didn't need to be a Doctor to know was not a good thing. The same tests which the Doctor had protested had told him nothing, nada.

In short, the Doctor had lied to her.

"Y/n? We haven't got all day!" Gleamed the Doctor as he entered the TARDIS once again. He stopped half way as he caught the sight of Y/n's hands on his coat, and then on the file. "Y/n-"

"You've been keeping this from me?" Her voice choked over the words before they finally entered the air.

The Doctor took a cautious step closer, like he was walking over land mines. "I was going to tell you-"

She cut him off again, "Really? Because I didn't get that impression when you said that the tests had told you nothing!" She looked back to the page and quoted, "High levels of radiation? You didn't think that was something worth telling? You told me to trust you, you told me that you would keep me safe." She paused as she shook her at her naivete.

"I'm sorry. Believe it or not, not telling you was me trying to keep you safe." He said as he took another cautious step closer.

"Is that what you're telling yourself?" She questioned. "Because to me it just sounds like your lying. Who knows what else you're lying to me about? I mean you can't even tell me your real name, you seem to know more about outer space than you do Earth, I mean for all I know-" She stopped herself. She knew. All off a sudden she knew and he could see it on her face. "Oh my god. You're not some spy, you don't work for torchwood. All this technology, that talk of how easily aliens can blend into humans. That wasn't just advice, it was because you are one."

Y/n wasn't sure how she had gone so long knowing him, travelling with him, and only now had that realisation dawn on her. "You lied to me."

"Technically, I never actually told you I was human." He tried to defend.

"Nows the time you want to get smart?" She quipped and he chose it best to keep quiet. "God I- I kissed you and now-" She could barely get a grip on this information. It had all flooded her brain far too quickly and she found that she struggled to keep up. "I told you about my parents. I told you what happened to them and you didn't even have the decency to say that you were one of them too!" This time, her words were littered in sorrow and her eyes were glossy, the vision she had of the Doctor not as clear as it had been before.

"I was there that day, alright? I was the one that stopped the sycorax." He explained, though in such a time, Y/n was certainly not in the mood to listen.

So her head shook and, in a battle to not believe the Doctor, she stuck to what she knew. "No, that was the prime minister, that was Harriot Jones. I know, they showed me the files, had to sign a contract and everything. The Pilot Fish had only come to Earth for some time lord or something-" For the second time, she came to a sudden realisation. "Oh, no..."

"I was the one that stopped them, that sent them away from Earth. Harriot Jones was the one who killed them." He took another step, more certain of that one than ever as they became only meters apart. "Y/n, do you understand what I'm saying?"

Their eyes met through tears, "You were the reason the Pilot Fish were on Earth. You're the reason they killed my parents." At that point, the girl hadn't a care for the tears that had fallen. Though, now, she wasn't letting the Doctor get close enough to wipe them away. "I can't-" Her words were a stumbling mess. She had put trust in a man simply because he had asked her to, and now she had to face such a naive mistake. One glance, and it was like Y/n was staring at her parent's gravestones again. "I want to go home." She finally decided.

"I can't do that." He told her - something she already knew and an answer of which she had expected. "You know it's not safe for you on Earth-"

"I need to leave." She interjected before he could continue his lecture. "I can't be here anymore. I can't- I can't be near you." Her voice shot through the air and the Doctor was in no place to argue. Even if he wanted to, he could tell she was in no mood to negotiate. For now, he'd have to let her go.

"I won't put you in any more danger." He said.

She sniffled, attempting to conceal any more tears. "Fine." She replied and shoved the file back into his coat and pushed into against his chest. Once the Doctor took it, she walked passed him. And she kept going until she exited the TARDIS.

She wasn't home. She wasn't anywhere she knew. But she was away from him.

-

Taglist -  @starfirette @sophied667 @rhys-cosmos @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @rcsetylersz @pickle-rick-y @Kazuyatokue @somethinglikethat83 @moonnney @giuliathecat13 @hiphopgirl16​  @allie-bama05​ @raely-study​ @penguin-in-training​ @emotional-vulnerability​ @v0id-sp1rit​ Want to join a taglist? Click here!

[inevitablemoment]

Frightober Day 16 - Halloween/Couple's Costumes

Word Count: 357

Warnings: None

Fandom: The Frighteners

Pairings: Frank Bannister x Lucy Lynskey

I will forever die on the Lunnister/Beauty and the Beast parallels hill.

This is what I imagine Lucy's Belle costume to look like (left):

Enjoy!

————————

"Luce? You sure you don't need my help?" Frank called as he futzed with the wrists of his jacket's sleeves.

"No, I'm fine," Lucy called back from the bedroom. "Laura's just helping me lace up the dress.

"Okay."

Frank looked at himself in the mirror, unable to keep from admiring the costume-- a royal blue 18th century-era court ensemble with golden embellishments that matched the Beast's suit. Hazel had outdone herself; maybe if she hadn't been a teacher, she could've designed costumes for movies or for the theater.

He heard footsteps from behind him, and turned around. A wide smile spread across his face.

Lucy looked like she was floating on air as she walked out of the bedroom, clad in Belle's iconic yellow gown.

Unlike Frank's costume, Lucy had bought hers when she was helping Hazel and Dr. Kamins' grandchildren pick out their costumes at the Halloween store. But, she had purchased a hoop skirt (not a crinoline cage, because apparent they were entirely different things) to add more volume to the skirt.

Her ebony curls were styled in the same period-appropriate half-down half-up hairdo.

She smiled back at him, smoothing her hands over the bodice of the dress.

"You look... God, I'm just speechless," Frank confessed.

"I'm pretty speechless myself," Lucy flirted, going to plant a quick kiss on his lips. "Thanks for coming over to help, Laura."

"Don't mention it," Laura said. "The older kids and I will be over later, and I can't wait to see how Bree will react."

The two women hugged goodbye, and Laura exited the house.

"So... we only have an hour and a half before we got trick-or-treaters," Lucy said. "What should we do?"

"Well... I have an idea," Frank began to suggest.

He carefully took her hand, and led her to the CD player. He retrieved one of the CDs from the display and inserted inside, pressing the skip button to get to the song he wanted. The opening of the title song from Beauty and the Beast began to play.

"May I have this dance?" he requested.

Lucy smiled at him. "How could I say no?"

[daydreamgoddess14]

Support System pt. 1

MASTERLIST

Yeah... I went ahead and started it anyway!

Roy Kent x F!Reader, general rating (might increase later 😏)

A newly single mum at Phoebe's school is struggling to find herself following her separation. Fortunately, there's a few people to rely on.

Chapter 1

"Lexie! Honey, we are gonna be so late if you don't hurry up!" You yell up the stairs, "you little shitbag, " you mumble under your breath. 

"Heard that!" A singsong voice raced down, swinging around the bannister and into the kitchen. 

"It was completely affectionate." You manage to grab the little girl's shoulders to stop her and whip the hairbrush off the bookcase. You'll pull a ponytail together in record time, planting a kiss on the crown of her head. "I'm picking you up today, so you're booked into the after-school club, OK?"

"Ugh, OK."

"Phoebe will be there."

"Promise?" You rack your brains, trying to remember the conversation at the school earlier in the week. 

"Yes, I'm almost certain."

"Better be right."

"Better not be cheeky, Lexie-loo. Grab your school bag, let's hustle." You manage to get both of you into the car reasonably quickly. You usually hate taking the car - it's a nightmare to park at the school and a nightmare to drive into the city, but you've a couple of client meetings on the outskirts today so the tube is no good to you. You're so late you have to pretty much abandon the car in a no parking area outside the school. You get Lexie to her door and practically push her into Ms Bowen's arms with a wave and an apology. 

"Oi! Could you not fucking park on the hatches next time?!" A voice shouts as your nearly back at your car. You've blocked a black 4x4 in, and the driver does not look happy. 

"Fuck, sorry, so sorry - just running late."

"Well now we're both fucking late." You wave him off, 

"I said sorry, no need to fucking go on."

"It's no parking for a reason."

"Said I'm sorry, get over it." You jump onto the car and throw it into drive, giving him the finger as you drive off. "Fucksake." Now you are late. You'd been separated from your husband for the last couple of months. The school run is not normally your responsibility or forte - he usually had those covered. In fact, you'd hardly set foot in the school for a good few years apart from parents evening and the odd meeting. But now, shared custody means you have to suddenly work out a flexible work schedule, and take advantage of before and after school clubs. You felt like more of an imposter at school than you ever did at work - cliquey mum groups, judging teachers… Your sudden appearances at the school gates, usually looking harried and scatty,  meant everyone had guessed why you were there. And no doubt because they'd known Andy rather than you for the last few years, he was the one garnering sympathy and support. To the other parents at the gate, you were a stranger. One afternoon late last week you'd been early for the first time. Client meetings and traffic had worked in your favour and you were first at the door for collection time. You could have cried with relief. Another mum rushed into the small playground just after you, looking equally relieved. 

"Oh my god I'm on time!"

"I know, I said that! Makes a change for me."

"Me too, I'm usually begging my brother to run down here for me." She was wearing hospital scrubs, dark hair in a ponytail. "Haven't seen you much before. It's usually Andy, isn't it?" You must have looked shocked because she followed up with, "shit, sorry. None of my business. I just noticed that the on time bunch ignore you most of the time. They do that to me as well."

"It's OK. Yeah, we split a couple of months ago. Now I've suddenly got to be supermum and be fucking everywhere at once." She nods, 

"Yep, I know what you mean. God forbid you work, or have a better job than your ex. If you're not at the gate, you're not pulling your weight."

"God, that's miserable. I feel like I'm being judged every time I'm five minutes late."

"It gets easier, you learn to juggle with one hand unlike before when you were juggling with two. I'm Sara O'Sullivan." She held out a hand and you shook it. "Or since mum's don't get to have a name around here, Phoebe’s mum."

"Oh my god, I'm Lexie's mum! She worships Phoebe!"

"Besties! Well now I'm definitely on your side. Single mums unite and all that!" And unite you did. You'd swapped numbers with Sara, offering to pick up Phoebe if she ever needed you to, and vice versa. You'd never had a mum-friend in your life and it had taken two long and lonely months but you finally had one. You made it to your first meeting and pinged a text to Sara Late mum strikes again! They'll put a wanted poster of me in reception 🤣. Your morning went smoothly, Sara had replied with a gif and a message of her own - I got called into surgery at 6am! Phebs was dropped off by uncle Roy again… pretty sure he's done more school runs than me this year! You'd laughed. You hadn't met him, you were usually so late for collection that the after school club staff were turning off the lights and getting ready to leave. There was never usually anyone else collecting at the same time. Having someone who didn't revolve their day around school drop off and pick up felt amazing - finally someone who understood the difference between winging it and being genuinely shit. You'd felt like it many times over the years, and even more over the last few months, but you knew you weren't a shit mum. You and Lexie were inseparable and adored each other, she was clean, presentable and well fed, polite and kind and she worked hard. If your teenage years were anything to go by then you knew you'd have some tough times coming up, but also a lot of fun. She was fun to be around. You were not shit, but you were definitely winging it every single day. As the afternoon rolled on, your meetings started to run into each other. 6pm was the pick up deadline and when you finally hopped in the car at 5pm, you knew you wouldn't make it. You called Andy first. 

"It's me, any chance you could get Lex from club?"

"Not really, it's not my night and I have plans."

"I'm only a bit late, I could be at yours by 6.30?"

"Can't, I'll be out."

"Right, great. Thanks for the help."

"You wanted this to be over. Thought you could do it alone so… do it alone."

"You didn't give me much choice! I'm not arguing, I need to make other arrangements." You hung up with a fuck you under your breath as the call disconnected, and called Sara next. "Hey, it's Lexie's mum-"

"Hi Lexie's mum. Late?"

"Yeah. I'm so sorry, I really didn't expect to back in the favours this soon." She laughed. 

"You sound like me when I broke up with my ex. Told Roy I'd be fine and was getting him up at 6am the next day to take Phebs to school. I'm still at work but he's getting her about now, I'll call him quick and get him to grab Lex. Just call the school so they know she can go with Phoebe's weirdo uncle."

"Will do - thanks!"

"I'll text you his address in a minute to collect her."

"I owe you a bottle of wine!"

"We'll share it. See you later." You made one final call to the school to let them know that Lexie could leave with Phoebe, then you could finally breathe. Thank fuck it was Friday. You added Phoebe's uncle's postcode to the sat nav and let it direct you past the school and through town and out the other side nearer the football club. You pulled up at a big house with a gate which was open, a black Mercedes 4x4 sat on the drive. You ring the doorbell and wait, your skirt creased after 90 minutes in the car, your blouse has a small coffee stain from where your to-go cup dripped earlier and your hair is no longer in the chic ponytail it was earlier. Very much thank fuck it was Friday. The door was opened by the same man who'd shouted at you in the carpark that morning. 

"Of fucking course. Late this morning, late this evening, it was bound to be you."

"Hi. Again. I'm guessing you're Roy?"

"That's me, come in. Feeding time at the zoo - I hope you ain't one of these health food mums? It's Phoebe's fish 'n' chip Friday."

"You fed her?"

"Well I wasn't going to let her starve while Phebs eats everything in sight." You follow him into the vast, luxury kitchen to find the two girls sitting at the counter with a huge bag of chips between them. 

"Mum!"

"Hey bunny, you OK? Hi Phebs." You kiss Lexie's salty cheek and steal a chip.

"Mmhmmm, Phoebe's uncle brought us chips and he was a footballer and Phoebe said we could have a sleepover soon and maybe I could go and meet some football players or see a match but I won't tell dad cos he supports West Ham and Roy said West Ham are shit and I… I want to go to the same gymnastics class as Phoebe please." You raise an eyebrow in Roy’s general direction. 

"Andddd… breathe, poppet. Finish up your tea and we'll go home." 

"My mum's on her way too." Phoebe said with a mouthful of chips. 

"Drink?" Roy offered. 

"Better not, I'm driving. Thank you though. I'm sorry about earlier, I never seem to be on time at the moment. Doing stuff alone is taking a bit of getting used to."

"Lexie said her dad is used to the school stuff. Said it's easy cos he works from home."

"Yeah he's in IT, he could basically rig it so he does nothing all day. And he does."

"And he supports West Ham?" You nod in confirmation as Sara pushes open the front door.

"Hi guys! Uncle Roy to the rescue again, eh?"

"Always me fucking fixing shit." He grunted. He looked at both of you, you with your creased skirt and stained top, Sara free of her scrubs but wearing old leggings and a threadbare vest. "Fucking state of you pair." 

"We're breadwinners, bub and don't you forget it." She prodded his chest. "Hey, have you got Lexie tomorrow? Fancy coming to mine for a drink? You can both stay if you don't mind the spare room." Lexie and Phoebe both shot to attention,

"Mum, can we?!" Lexie begged.

"Please, Lexie's mum, please!"

"Of course, yes that sounds great. We'd love to. I should get back now though, I'm knackered. Thank you for collecting Lexie, Roy. We'll see you two tomorrow." You gather up Lexie's school stuff and bid farewell to Roy and Sara. Once you get a very tired Lexie into bed, you snuggle down next to her. 

"I'm glad you're friends with Phoebe's mummy and uncle Roy, mum."

"Me too, bunny. Me too."

~~~~~~~

Hope you like it, this is my first time writing Roy outside of a TedBecca fic so fingers crossed!

Ohhhh no, the brainrot is spreading.... had a cracking idea last night for a new Roy Kent x Reader fic... but I can't start it yet, I can't! I'd have 10 WIPs 🤣 Ohh but I can't wait! It's so good! (I think!)

[writemekpop]

Hot Mess | Kim Jongin (Kai)

5K Follower Series Ep. 27

Summary: You come home one night to find Kai naked in your bed… is he cheating on you?   

Genre: Established relationship AU, smut

Word Count: 1k

Prompt: “Stop looking at me like that!”

“Kai? Where are you, baby?”

No response. The entire downstairs was dark. And silent. 

You pulled out your tight ponytail, letting your wavy hair fall loose over your shoulders. 

Work had been tough. You couldn’t wait to curl up and watch your hot boyfriend Kai work out – that always made you feel better. 

 In the gloom, the house felt alien, like it was somebody else’s, and you were intruding.

You wandered towards the stairs. Kai’s favourite Gucci jacket was hanging from the bannister. A chill ran down your spine. He never left home without it. 

“Baby?” You walked up the stairs. Kai’s Balenciaga belt was coiled snake-like on the top stair. You were getting really freaked now.   

That’s when you noticed them - the soft grunts coming from your bedroom door. Your heart fell to the floor. You’d know that deep voice anywhere.  

Was Kai… cheating on you? This couldn’t be happening!  

Tears were already pricking your eyes. You imagined Kai in there with some supermodel, his head between her legs, getting mess all over your sheets. You felt sick. 

You took a deep breath, and yanked the bedroom door open. 

You gasped. 

Kai was lying on the bed, completely naked, his brown skin glowing against the white duvet cover. His eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure, his cheeks were flushed, and his hand was wrapped around his penis. 

“Where is she?” You screamed, looking around the room to find the person Kai was cheating on you with. “Come and face me like a woman, you homewrecker!”  

When Kai heard your voice, he bolted upright, the muscles on his abdomen flexing with the effort. 

“Hey, baby, I didn’t hear you come in. Come and join me,” Kai said. He smirked sexily, but you weren’t having it.

“Join you?” You snapped, getting angrier by the second. “First you cheat on me and now you want me to join you in bed with your mistress! Fuck off!”  

Kai frowned, looking adorably confused despite his naked state. “Cheat on you? What are you talking about?” 

“You-“ you gestured wildly at his nakedness. “Having sex with… god, where are you hiding her?” 

You dropped down to your knees and looked under the bed for the mystery woman. She had to be somewhere. 

Realisation dawned upon Kai. He jumped off the bed and gently pulled you up to standing.

“Babe,” he said, gazing at you warmly. “I’m not cheating on you. There’s no-one else here.”

Your mouth dropped open. “Then why are you naked? What about all those moans?” 

Kai rubbed the back of his neck, blushing. “I was just having some… intimate time… with myself. I like to do it naked. It… feels better.” 

You stared at him, your face a mixture of shock and disgust. 

“Hey,” Kai said, nudging your shoulder. “Stop looking at me like that. Everyone masturbates.” 

“Oh my god!” you cried. “I thought you were cheating on me, when all you were doing was jerking off? You idiot!” 

You grabbed a pillow off the bed and whacked Kai on his naked butt. “I can’t believe you!” 

Kai laughed, deep and manly. “I can’t believe you think I’d cheat on you. I’m crazy about you, Y/n.” 

You whacked him again. “I almost had a heart attack!” 

Mad with rage, you whacked him on his front too.  

Kai let out a half-yelp, half-moan. “You just hit my dick!” He said, chucking. “Actually that felt kinda good. Do it again?” 

You gasped. “You pervert!” 

It was getting harder to hold in your smile. This was almost funny. “I can’t believe you’re getting off on this!” you groaned, your smile breaking through. 

“Come ‘ere, you,” he grunted. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pulled you onto the bed with him. 

He attacked your neck with kisses, making you both breathless with laughter. 

You rolled around on the bed in a hot tangle. You don’t know whose fingers did what… but soon, you were just as naked as him. 

---

After, you lay in each other’s arms, limbs intertwined, trying to catch your breath.

The bedside table fan hummed softly, but it did nothing to ease the heat radiating off your bodies. Your heartbeats were the only sound.

Kai was absentmindedly drawing patterns on your arm, eyes closed, singing to himself – the way he always did after sex. 

You let your eyes wander down his smooth neck, and across his sculpted chest. You gazed at his brown skin and the ripples of muscles in his taut stomach. Your tummy tingled in appreciation. 

You looked lower and lower, at his belly button piercing, at the V shape leading right down to his massive-

“I know you’re checking me out.” Kai said. 

You giggled. “Busted.” 

“Round two?” He asked, pushing himself up on one elbow so that he could look at you. “You know you want to.” 

Kai twirled a curl of your hair between his fingers and followed it down to where it came to your chest. His fingers brushed against your nipple, sending sparks flying down your spine. 

“You’re not tired?” You whispered. 

Kai smiled a lazy, sexy smile. He rolled you over so that he was lying on top of you, and dipped his lips to your neck.

“For you? Never.” 

​—

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[upsidedownwithsteve]

on my knees,begging, mouth foaming,whimoering

I LOVE YOUR STEVE FICS!!1!1!1! I NEED MORE PUHLEASE!

no but seriously theyre so fun to read hhshshsh

and

i was wondering if you could maybe possibly write a fic where steve has a nightmare and he calls his friend reader to comfort him? :>

thank you for being awesome <333

Anon babe I’m howling ahshsbaja 😭 seeing as we’re mouth foaming, I wrote you this 😚

Also you’re so cute thank you thank you thank you 🧡

Steve couldn’t help but feel guilty as he rang your number, his hands still a little shaky as his fingers pressed down on the buttons. He heard the line ring, once, twice, three times, as he sat on his stairs, chest bare and his quilt draped around his shoulders, the phone wire tangled between the spindles of the bannister.

He was still warm from bed, a flush over his skin that came from another bad dream, a nightmare that was all too real, one he’d lived through before.

You answered on the fourth ring, voice groggy but all too knowing.

“Steve?”

No hi, no hello, no who on earth is calling at two o’clock in the morning? Just his name, said as simply as a promise. You’d made him swear to you that he’d call you if it happened again, all soft concern as you took his chin in your hand over the counter at Family Video, hating your friends tired, red rimmed his eyes, his skin less sun kissed than normal.

So when the nightmares started turning into night terrors and Steve no longer trusted the dark of his room, his open window, the crack between his closet doors. So he’d stay awake until the sun came up, eyes burning, skin slick with fright and the sheets tangled at the bottom of his bed.

His house was so empty without you.

“Hey,” his voice was quiet, crackled and soft down the line. “Promise this isn’t a bootycall.”

You huffed out a quiet laugh at his weak attempt at humour, already moving out of your mess of sheets to find your shoes under your bed, a sweater that hung on the back of your chair.

“I’ll be there soon, ‘kay? Unlock the door for me.”

You were sure you heard a hitch in his breath, a harsh swallow and you stood, clasping the receiver to your ear, your other hand clutching your sweater. Steve’s sweater.

“Steve? Are you okay?”

Another breath, harsh and bursting from him, like he’d been holding it in, swallowing it down.

“M’sorry.”

“You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for, babe,” you told him and you were shocked at the hot prick of tears at the corners of your lashes. You blinked them away, feeling all too awake. Didn’t the boy know you’d do anything for him? “You’re my best friend.”

There had never been a better time for your parents to be absent, away for the weekend at some fancy spa retreat a few towns over, relaxed and oblivious to the trauma and terror their daughter and her friends were going through.

You brought your car to life without any worry of the engine disturbing them, pulling out of the drive and down the road, your eyes wary of the shadows that lurked between the trees that lined the street.

There were monsters on every corner, crawling out from dreams like a real life horror movie, attacking and slashing their way from your subconscious and into your home, teeth glinting, blood dripping.

You drove a little faster.

You found the door to Steve’s unlocked like you asked, but you didn’t have to venture far into his house to find him. The boy was on the stairs, hair sleep mussed and pillow creases on his cheek, his sheets wrapped around his bare shoulders like a fort that could protect him and god, he looked so tired.

“Steve,” your voice was honey to him, thick with fondness and worry, sweet just for him.

He lifted his head from where it had dropped, cheek on his hand that kept his propped up and he smiled at you, achingly soft and full of relief. He stood, slow like he was sore and reached a hand out to to, the blanket slipping from one shoulder to show off his bare chest, his low slung shorts, all the silver scars and bruises that he’d earned himself.

“Hey princess,” Steve’s voice was that same low husk you’d heard on the voice, sleep still clinging to him, doing its best to drag him back under but he fought it with everything he had, every goddamn night until his body was screaming at him to just stop.

You took his hand, fingers twisting in a way that made your stomach drop, achingly familiar and Steve let you lead him back up the stairs and into his bedroom. You didn’t switch off the bedside lamp that he’d turned on, you let it cast the space in a soft halo, a warm glow that helped keep the bad at bay.

The boy didn’t say anything when you toed off your trainers, feet still bare underneath and he definitely didn’t say anything when he noticed who’s sweater you were wearing. He let you guide him back onto the mattress, pulling the blanket from him before you crawled over his stretched out frame, bringing it with you as you settled into the space beside him.

Neither of you spoke as you turned into each other, your toes pressed to the tops of his feet, your arms winding around Steve’s neck as you pulled him into you, letting him seek solace in the space above your breasts, his cheek pressed to where he could feel the beat of your heart.

His hands found your waist, a tight circle around the dip there, a hand pushing its way under your t-shirt until the feel of warm, soft skin grounded him enough to be able to finally close his eyes.

When his knee pushed itself between yours, more warm, solid contact, you sighed and pressed your face into the mess of his hair.

He smelled like apple shampoo, leftover cologne, cedar and mint. Too much like home.

“Better?” You finally asked, voice a soft whisper, as delicate as the night had become.

You felt him nod, felt the vibration of his answering hum against your skin, his nose pressed into the crook of your neck, and you just knew he was near sleep.

“Good,” you told him, pushing yourself even closer into the boy. “I’ve got you, you can sleep.”

[bookofbonbon]

a different type of crazy - rafe cameron.

pairings/ featured characters: Rafe Cameron x Reader. Topper Thornton. Kelce. JJ Maybank. Pope Heyward. Kiara Carrera. Sarah Cameron.

warnings: implied physical violence. hugely unedited.

summary: the final part of the a different type of: series.

word count: 3.1k

PART TWO

Your fingers dance along the light blue fabric that compliments the white of your gown as you enter the foyer of the Island Inn for Midsummers; wondering if you should have worn the gown at all seeing as It was designed to match Rafe’s suit and your relationship with him seemed to hang in the balance after the previous day’s events. The worst part was that you missed him, and it made you feel pathetic because it had barely been a day and, it was your own fault that the distance was even there to begin with.

Heads of your peers turn with surprise at your entrance sans Rafe, or the Cameron family as planned. You scoff at the onlookers, departing from your family to seek out your group of friends on the terrace.

“Already out here, Top?” you question as you near him and Kelce, plucking a flute of champagne off of a tray from a server. “Thought you’d be out front waiting for Sarah, aren’t the two of you supposed to be walking in together?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be walking in with Rafe?” Topper counters with a tight-lipped smile.

You regard him with a raised brow before shrugging and touching your cheek to his and then to Kelce’s in a friendly kiss.

“Touché.”

“Those Cameron siblings, huh?” Kelce remarks, looking at you and Topper pitifully.

Your lips hover the rim of your glass.

“Those Cameron siblings indeed,” you agree, throwing back the drink in one swallow.

Applause erupts suddenly all around you. You don’t need to turn around to know who’s arrived. Choosing instead to exchange your empty flute with a full one that you down just as quickly.

“Bit early in the night to be getting shit faced, don’t you think?” a girl to the left of Kelce snickers and you gently slam the glass down onto the bannister.

Dragging your eyes scrutinisingly over her appearance, you look down your nose at her. Her lips curling inwards as well as her body shrinking in on itself.

“And who are you?” you sneer at the girl in question.

The girl freezes, eyes wide as she tucks tail and excuses herself from the group.

“Seriously?” Kelce groans at you, throwing his hands up in the air as he follows after her.

“You’re terrible,” Topper snorts out a laugh and you can’t help your own small laugh that bubbles out of you as well.

“I didn’t know she was here with him,” you admit, watching Kelce chase after her, eyes never leaving them as she rounds a corner; only for Rafe to turn the same corner and bump into Kelce. All of Kelce’s thoughts about his date forgotten as he delves into conversation with Rafe. You wrinkle your nose at the sinking feeling in your chest, shoulders slumping.

Topper’s hand on your shoulder breaks your attention, and you look toward him, half expecting a pitying look from him. Instead, his own eyes are set on another Cameron sibling. Squeezing your shoulder, Topper utters a be right back and makes a beeline for Sarah.

You shake your head at his back; you love Topper, you really do but, by God, he could be so pathetic when it came to Sarah. Taking your leave, you walk down the two steps to the open field dance floor to join your other friends.

-

As the night pushes through, your mood doesn’t lift because it seemed no matter where you looked, your eyes would some way, somehow, always catch Rafe’s for a fleeting moment and your heart would sink all over again. Quite frankly you had had enough and so, you retreat to a secluded corner near the bar and take a seat because you planned to stay there for a while. You hadn’t touched a drink since you downed those two glasses of champagne but, if you were going to get through the rest of the night, maybe you needed more alcohol or at least something stronger.

Flagging down the bartender, you request their strongest drink.

“Make that two,” a voice asks over your shoulder, pulling out a chair – Rafe.

He sits beside you but, you couldn’t have felt further apart.

“Hey,” he greets softly.

You probably wouldn’t have heard it amongst all the noise if you hadn’t been so finely attuned to him and, he to you.

“Aren’t you driving tonight? You shouldn’t be drinking,” you snipe.

Catching the wide grin on Rafe’s face from the corner of your eye, you immediately scold yourself internally for showing your concern for his safety.

Undeterred by the sour look on your face, Rafe reaches towards you, large hand securing itself underneath your chair and dragging you towards him. His body faces yours and, yours still faces forward; his hand, however, finds its familiar place on your hip. It brings you comfort; it helps you relax a little.

“I didn’t drive,” Rafe reassures and tension that you didn’t know was there, leaves your body.

There’s a lull in conversation as the bar tender brings over the two unfamiliar drinks, your hands instantly wrapping around your glass and fiddling with it to distract yourself

“You wore the dress,” Rafe comments, brushing your hair over your shoulder. His face lighting up as he gets a better look at the dress that matches his suit.

“Well, it was too short notice to get another dress so, I had to settle for what I already had.”

“You look beautiful.”

You scoff at the compliment. A small part of you, the part that’s still angry at him pushing to the forefront of your thoughts and wanting to start a fight.

“Only when I’m all dressed up.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Rafe retorts. “Dressed up or not, you know that I always think that you’re beautiful.”

There’s another lull in conversation as tension rises between the two of you and Rafe runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry. I-”

“Stop-” you shake your head, cutting him off. “Don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything.”

“I know but I just- I miss you,” he whispers, voice wavering and your hands freeze around the glass.

You take a breath, steeling yourself as you turn to Rafe.

“It’s barely been a day,” you speak lowly with a pathetic scoff, wrinkling your nose.

Regret fills you as Rafe’s shoulders slump, his hand faltering on your hip and beginning to retract. Your anger now subsiding, the bigger part of you, the one that’s downcast and miserable without him surfacing.

“I miss you too,” you confess, dejectedly.

Tears brim at your waterline and Rafe is quick to act, pulling you to your feet and guiding you away from prying eyes. Turning down a hallway and into a vacant wing of the Island Inn, he scans the room for any wanderers. You sniffle, swiping beneath your nose and Rafe pulls out his pocket square, gently dabbing beneath your eyes so, he doesn’t ruin your make up and you find yourself giggling at the gesture.

“What?” Rafe smiles reservedly.

“Nothing,” you shake your head, gnawing at the corner of your bottom lip. The small smile remaining from your laughter soon turning into a grimace.

“What is it?”

You almost run a hand down the side of your face when you remember your make up. Hand instead drifting down to you neck and fiddling with the golden disc that hangs from it by a thin golden chain.

“Can we please put what happened behind us?” you ask, hesitating to meet his eyes.

Rafe’s hands cup your face, forcing you to look at him and all the love he has for you, head nodding his agreement.

“We should probably talk about it at some point though, hm?” he mumbles.

You wrinkle your nose in disapproval, your pride wanting to forget it ever happened but, Rafe was right; the two of you would have to talk about it at some point.

You nod reluctantly, with a dramatic sigh, “I guess so.”

“Good girl,” Rafe winks and your face goes hot at his words.

Rafe laughs at your demure demeanour, your reaction something reserved only ever for him.

“Shut up,” you grimace but, eyes shining with mischief. "Come on, let's go dance."

That shuts Rafe up quickly as you pull him behind you. Heads turn towards the two of you at the unlikely sight of Rafe Cameron taking to the dance floor and you groan as a slow song comes on, saving Rafe from actually having to dance as the two of you sway to the music instead.

Your heart is light but full, body warm in Rafe's hold as you absentmindedly play with the hair at the base of his neck. Your eyes then begin to wander, almost missing the head of blonde hair that did not belong amongst the crowd.

“What is it?” Rafe asks, always noticing the slightest change in you.

You nod behind him, arms dropping from around his neck as he turns in the direction you gesture to, hand still firmly attached to your waist. Rafe’s hands ball into fists, one hand fisting the fabric of the back of your dress. His body going rigid with tension and anger.

"I'm bored," you echo your previous words from days ago. "And I'm sick of seeing those pogues everywhere I look."

Sliding a hand up his arm, he relaxes under your touch, rolling his shoulders and unclenching his hands.

“Whatever I needed to do, right?” Rafe asks.

“Whatever you need to do… whatever you want to do,” you answer, sinister smile marring your beautiful mouth.

Pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, Rafe moves quickly, approaching JJ with Kelce. You make yourself scarce, disappearing into the crowd but, keeping a watchful eye on everyone else should anyone try to interfere. It doesn’t take long for a chorus of voices from the crowd to sound out with displeasure. Searching amongst the partygoers for JJ’s two friends that you know for a fact are there: you spy Pope at the grill and Kiara with her parents, neither of them reacting to the commotion. Comfortable with the fact that they had no idea what was going on and were sufficiently distracted, you head inside.

You arrive in time to notice the security guard heading towards the Men's Locker Room, where you can hear a cacophony of familiar voices.

“Are you security?” you ask, stepping into the security's path and feigning panic.

The man comes to an abrupt stop, surprised by your sudden appearance.

“Uh- yes. Is everything alright?”

“No! There’s a fight happening over there,” you gesture behind you. “And you’re standing in here staring at the. wall.”

The man doesn’t question you, aware that a fight had indeed broken out somewhere and, thankful that someone had pointed him in the direction of it.

Scoffing at his gullibility, you open a nearby utility closet and pull out an a-frame caution sign, placing it in front of the Men’s Locker Room door before re-joining the crowd.

-

Rafe reappears a couple of minutes later, his eyes searching for you and immediately finding you. You take his hand in yours once he’s within reach, observing the damage. His knuckles are busted and bruised, and you cautiously place your other hand over it to cover the evidence of his activities.

“Are you okay?” you ask worriedly.

“I’m fine. Nothing I can’t handle,” Rafe reassures, bringing his other hand to the back of your head and pressing another kiss to your forehead.

“Where’s JJ?”

“Unconscious on the locker room floor,” he grunts.

"I guess that leaves the other two but, that's for another day. Let's get out of here."

"I’ll drive," Rafe leads you out of the Island Inn.

“I thought you said you didn’t drive here,” you remind him of his earlier comment.

“I didn’t, we’re taking Topper’s car,” he holds out a pair of keys.

You open your mouth ready to scold him for drink driving but, Rafe beats you to it.

“I also didn’t drink, I swear."

-

The drive to your home is short, the estate you called home - like the rest of the street - in darkness as everyone partied on at the Island Inn. Rafe opens the car door for you, and you step out, feet bare and heels in your hand as he walks you to your door. Fishing your keys from your purse, the quiet night is punctured with the sounds of sirens.

Unlocking the door and stepping inside, you switch the lights on, house coming to life as you place your heels haphazardly by the door. Turning towards Rafe to ask for his help with the top of your zip, you find him still standing in the doorway.

“What’re you doing? Aren’t you coming in?”

“Not tonight, baby. I’ve got some things to take care of.”

You walk towards him with an arched brow. Taking his injured hand in yours and examining the damage once again.

“Like what?” you ask with a tilt of your head.

“Nothing for you to worry about, I’m doing this on my own.”

“Rafe…”

Rafe sighs, never able to keep anything from you, “just going to take care of the rest of the pogues.”

"Can't it wait? I feel like I haven't gotten you to myself in a while now," you pout.

“I swear I'm all yours after tonight. It's just that Wheezie told me that Sarah’s supposed to be meeting John B at the Hawk’s Nest at midnight-"

"and it'd be an awful shame if another Cameron showed up first,” you smirk, finishing his sentence.

“Be a really big shame, hm?” Rafe chuckles, pressing his lips to yours. Pulling away, he rests his forehead against yours. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“But... Rafe, I don’t want you to do whatever you’re going to do on your own,” you sigh, fear spiking of what could happen to him. The two of you had always been a tag team, always looking out for one another.

“I know but, not tonight. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if something happened to you. I’ve got it under control. I swear” he presses one more kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”

-

When you wake the next morning, you immediately reach for your phone to check for any messages from Rafe – there’s one from 3:36am; two words.

home safe.

You breathe a sigh of relief, having been consumed with dread since he had left your house. You held out for as long as you could, trying to stay awake until you heard from him but, you just couldn’t keep your eyes open. The emotional toll from the past days having finally caught up with you.

Once ready for the day, another text comes through on your phone from Rafe.

Be over in 10.

You snort at the message, a man of very few words when it comes to texting.

Skipping down the steps, you wander the familiar hallways, passing one of the lounges on your way to the kitchen and noting the TV is on. The morning new plays, your mother so engrossed in it so, you come to a stop.

“What’s going on?” you ask, already knowing that Rafe was likely involved.

“You need to be more careful going around,” your mother warns instead of answering your question. “I don’t want you going anywhere by yourself. Not unless it’s with us or with Rafe.”

“Why? What’s going on?” you repeat, stepping inside.

“Last night, someone beat a boy up in the locker rooms at the Island Inn, another boy supposedly fell from the Hawks nest and the Wreck- you know that restaurant owned by the Carreras? Someone broke into it and caused tens-of-thousands of dollars of damages- maybe more,” your mother finishes, with a pat to her chest to calm herself.

“Thank God no body was seriously hurt but, those boys. My god, it could’ve been life threatening.”

“If no one was seriously hurt then, what’s the big deal?” you shrug, continuing on your way to the kitchen.

“Y/N,” your mother scolds, following after you. “You need to take this more seriously. The police haven’t caught this person so, they're still out there. I just want you to be a little more cautious and safer.”

“I know, I just don’t see-”

“Rafe’s here,” your father’s voice calls from the foyer, a delighted smile gracing your mother’s features.

“Excellent,” she claps her hands, turning on her feet. “Perhaps Rafe will listen to me, if you won’t.”

Following after your mother to the front of the house, you find your father and Rafe locked in intense conversation.

“Rafe!” your mother calls. “I'm so glad to see you. You’ve heard about what’s happened over the course of last night and this morning, yes?”

Rafe looks at you bemused by your mother’s behaviour but nods along, well aware of everything that had happened because he had done it.

“Well, Rafe, since my daughter apparently doesn’t seem to care about her own safety. I hope that you do. Yes?”

“Of course I care about her safety,” Rafe answers sincerely without missing a beat.

“Good because there’s a crazy person out there and if she’s not with us then I don’t want her going out anywhere unless she’s with you. Promise me, Rafe?” she grabs his arm in an iron-clad grip.

You almost laugh out loud but, manage to refrain from doing so. Instead catching Rafe’s eye over your mother’s shoulder, a mischievous smile on your lips and a cunning twinkle in your eyes.

“I promise,” Rafe reassures her. “This person… he’s a- maniac. I’d never let anyone like that near Y/N.”

“Good,” your mother breathes a sigh of relief, patting his arm and turning to you. “Well, your father and I are headed out for the day so, please- the two of you, just be careful.”

The two of you bid your parents goodbye, Rafe closing the front door behind them and turning back towards you. Silence fills the space between the two of you, your eyes scanning over him as he walks towards you.

“And you said I was crazy,” you mock his earlier words.

“I think we’re both a little crazy,” Rafe says firmly, fingering at a loose strand of your hair, a small smile forming on the edge of his lips. “But me? Oh, I’m a different type of crazy.”

“Is that so?” you ask and Rafe nods, his hands cupping your face in the familiar way that they always do and touching his forward to yours. “and how can that be?”

“Because…” he answers, lips hovering yours. “I’m crazy about you, crazy for you, crazy in love with you."

"Does that mean I can finally have you all to myself?"

"I'm all yours," he whispers, closing the gap between the two of your lips.

-

a/n: THE END!!

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Outer Banks characters or Outer Banks show.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

© bookofbonbon 2022. All rights reserved.

[silverhallow]

Ok but I have a small headcanon when baby Hyacinth and Gregory were very little, both irritated and crying and the only way they stopped crying is because Anthony, Benedict, and Colin started singing to Daphne’s music. Eloise and Francesca running down the stairs and dance around the crib where both toddlers were lightening up. A perfect moment where Violet admire her kids bonding.

Oh man I love this... so i've written a little drabble...

well it's less than 1000 words so it's a drabble for me hahahahahaha

Anthony had no idea what was going on or why Gregory and Hyacinth would just not screaming. he had assumed that perhaps little Hyacinth's teeth were cutting through but it wouldn't explain Gregory's cabby mood.

"I have no idea what is going on but the maid has just burst into tears" 17 year old Benedict said coming into the study that Anthony was using "Eloise is begging for it all to stop..." he said tugging at his own hair.

"Where is mother?" Anthony asked "is she back from the modiste?" Violet had gone out that morning at the behest of her son's, saying they could manage with their siblings and honestly it was about 3 minutes after she had left that Hyacinth had started to cry and then 20 minutes after that Gregory started.

he was going to go insane. "not yet" Benedict replied "I'd have sent for her but..."

"She needs a break," Anthony agreed with a sigh. "Come with me..." he said, figuring they were each going to have to take a child and hold them and hope to god it worked.

They made their way to the nursery to see a very flustered looking nurse on the verge of tears "Rose you can go have a break... we will take care of Greg and Hyacinth" Anthony said, the younger girl nearly burst into tears as she curtsied and fled the room.

“One each?” Benedict said as they moved into the room and each picked up a child. Gregory in Benedict’s arms, Hyacinth in Anthony’s.

They did settle a little but still cried and whined in their brother’s arms as both gentlemen bounced up and down with their siblings, having had the practice with the rest of their siblings.

“Perhaps some music might help?” Anthony asked “it used to settle Daph…” 

“Can’t hurt…”Benedict said and they made their way down the hallway, their siblings against them as they walked to the music room.

“Daphne!” Anthony called up the stairs and there was a flurry of feet and a mop of hair appeared over the bannister.

“Yes Brother?” she said with a strained smile

“Come down here and play the piano for us…” Anthony called. Daphne let out an excited squeak and ran down the stairs.

“What do you want me to play?” She asked, skidding into the room.

“Lavender blue?” Benedict said to his brother “always worked with El and Frannie”

Daphne nodded and sat down at the piano and began to play the intro.

Benedict and Anthony nodded at each other in time with the music before they started singing

“Lavender's blue, diddle diddle, Lavender's green, When I am king, diddle diddle, You shall be queen.”

Gregory and Hyacinth’s tears seem to quieten, they fell quieter and looked at their brother’s “it’s working” Daphne said with a sigh of relief as she kept her fingers going “keep singing!”

“Lavender's green, diddle diddle, Lavender's blue, You must love me, diddle diddle 'Cause I love you”

The door opened to the music room and Colin came in and joined with his older brother’s singing as Eloise and Francesca appeared in the room and took each other’s hands and twirled around the room as the two babies finally fell quiet as the three brother’s sang:

“Down in the vale, diddle diddle Where flowers grow, And the birds sing, diddle diddle All in a row.

A brisk young man, diddle diddle Met with a maid,And laid her down, diddle diddleUnder the shade.

There they did play, diddle diddle And kiss and court.All the fine day, diddle diddle Making good sport.

I've heard them say, diddle diddle Since I came hither That you and I, diddle diddle Might lie together.

Therefore be kind, diddle diddleWhile here we lie, And you will love, diddle diddle My dog and I.”

Violet had come in and saw the housekeeper looking flustered, she had needed the morning, she had been grateful to her son’s for insisting she took a morning to herself. Since Edmund had passed, it had been full on with the children, with Hyacinth and she was wearing clothes that were falling apart.

She knew she had to pick herself up and be the woman she knew she was, the mother and the head of the family with her son…

“Is everything alright?” Violet asked she handed her maid her travelling cloak

“Master Gregory and Miss Hyacinth have screamed all morning… i believe Lily was just sent own for a break Lord Bridgerton and Mr Benedict have the children… what is going on… I do not know” Mrs Wilson said.

Violet nodded and sighed, it was probably because they were left alone but she knew her duties as a mother didn’t stop magically with a trip out of the house.

She made her way up the stairs and was about to head to the nursery when she heard laughter, music and singing coming from the music room.

“For you and I, diddle diddle Now all are one, And we will lie, diddle diddle No more alone.

Lavender's blue, diddle diddle Lavender's green, Let me be king, diddle diddle You be the queen.

Lavender's green, diddle diddle Lavender's blue, You must love me, diddle diddle 'Cause I love you.”

With a frown she made her way to the doorway, she recognised the song. Edmund used to sing it and it was the first time since he passed that her heart didn’t utterly break at his memory.

She pushed the door and what she saw, took her breath away. Her two eldest son’s with her two youngest in their arms, singing, Colin sat with Daphne singing and turned the page to the music for Daphne as Eloise and Franesca danced.

And she knew in that moment, as she watched her children, that all would be well… they would be okay. They were a family, they were Bridgerton’s and together they could do anything.