#hes here to keep hiim warm

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

ethan and the big trash puppy he doesnt want

[wonderwomanfantasy]

doggy style

sometimes I save a place holder title and I'm not chaining it this time.

Hound dog x Reader

Warnings: smut, idk what you want from me other than that

Word count: 1,000 (about)

Summary: OH NO ONLY ONE BED

Aizawa came back from the front desk, grim-faced. “Good news and bad news,” he sighed “the good news is they have enough room for all of us, the bad news is there are only five beds.” you looked around at the other heroes. Six of you in total.

“We’re all adults here, it won’t kill two of us to share a bed,” Midnight shrugged. “But that storm out there might,”

“Does that mean you’re offering to share a bed Nemuri?” Hizashi probed.

“Absolutely not, my beauty sleep is important I’m not letting anyone ruin that.”

“I don’t mind sharing a bed,” Printable Nezu spoke up. You all shared a meaningful look and decided that Nezu would be getting his own bed.

“What about you Shota? why don’t you just take the floor and use your sleeping bag?”

“I paid for all three rooms I’m getting my own bed.” Six heroes, five beds, three rooms, and one hell of a storm. You’d gotten the worst of the rain, and were soaked the bone, you just wanted a hot shower and a nice restful night, you really didn’t give a damn about the bed situation, and this arguing was getting you nowhere.

“Enough,” you said pulling out two pairs of cheap wooden chopsticks and snapping them into varying lengths. “Everyone draw straws, you’ll room with whoever you match with and if you draw the short stick you share have to share the bed alright?” you snapped jutting your fist out. Everyone quietly drew their sticks.

Nemuri and principal Nezu with the longest, Aizawa and Hizashi with the middle pair, you and Hound dog left with the literal short stick.

“There, no complaining,” you said then snatched the key from Shota marching to your room, not worrying about the bed situation right now, your mind only on dry clothes and a hot shower.

Now that you were actually in the bed with Hound dog, you were starting to see the problem. He was big, he took up almost all of the space on the queen-sized bed, even without trying. You were pressed against his chest, his bare chest. You tried not to let his closeness and his nakedness get to you. You were pretty sure he could smell it if you got turned on. You shifted in bed against him and your leg brushed against something long and hard. Oh.

“Sorry-” he hissed, your breath caught in your throat. “I can’t help it,” looks like neither of you would be getting much sleep tonight. There were a few long moments of silence as both of you steeped in your arousal. You couldn’t help but test the waters one more time, you moved your leg forward brushing against his rock-hard length. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of hiim.

“Now you’re just doing that on purpose,” he snapped.

“Maybe,” you admitted.

“The others will hear,” he groaned rocking his hips against your leg,

“Not if we’re quiet,” Aizawa and Hizashi slept like stones, and Nemuri and Nezu were across the hall.

“I don’t know if I can,” he breathed. He rolled on top of you, nuzzling the side of your neck. Pushing his big cock between your legs. He breathed in the scent of your arousal and gelt his cock twitch, aching to be freed. You reached between your two bodies pulling aside the sleep shorts you’d worn into bed and urging him to do the same. His cock was so big, you could feel it pressing against you. Staring against the layers of fabric that separated you two. He was going to destroy you.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he breathed, rubbing the entrance of your cunt with two of his thick fingers.

“I don’t mind the pain,” you said. Though you didn’t mind his warm rough fingers grazing your most sensitive parts, you were aching for his cock. “Ba a good boy and fuck me,”

That broke him. He growled against your throat and ripped something in his hurry to undress. He ran his fingers over your entrance collecting your essence and smearing it down the length of his cock before pushing in.

The sting of him pushing in brought tears to your eyes, you didn’t have to worry about keeping quiet because with one motion he’d ripped all air from your lungs.

“God,” he whispered, you were like a vice around his dick. Tight, warm, and wet. “I-I cant’ be gentle,” he said through gritted teeth, he was trying to hold himself back and be at least a little quiet but he didn’t know how much longer that would work for him.

“Don’t be,” you pressed. Hound dog had never been a gentle lover, even under the best of circumstances. He drew his hips back and slamming back inside of you so hard the bed rocked and slammed against the wall with a loud CRACK. Oh well, there was a storm tonight. It could have been thunder.

He kept pushing into you harder and harder until you were gasping for air, your cunt squelching around him. The bed squeaking and groaning with the effort. “G-good boy- good boy,” you praised as the tip of his dick slammed against your g-spot. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he lost control of his actions. Fucking you mindlessly.

“I’m a good boy I’m a good boy,” he groaned, he could feel your walls pulse around him, you were going to cum, you were going to cum around his cock and then he’d really lose it.

Your back arched off the bed to meet his chest. “I’m so close I’m so close,” you moaned.

“Cum for me, cum for me,” he chanted, snapping his hips back and forth even faster than before. Your muscles tensed you were right at the edge of your climax when there was a loud snap and the bed crashed to the floor sending you and him both rolling onto the floor. The bedframe cracked in half, one of the legs broken as well.

“shit,” you breathed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hound dog growled.

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it right now, first you need to cum,” he decided climbing on top of you again.

[elizabeth-mitchells]

Journeys end in lovers meeting - Sam/Deena - Bly Manor AU

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Sarah Fier/Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Christine "Ziggy" Berman/Nick Goode, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson Characters: Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street), Deena Johnson, Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Simon Kalivoda, Josh Johnson (Fear Street), Constance (Fear Street Part 3: 1666), Christine "Ziggy" Berman, Nick Goode (Fear Street), Alice (Fear Street Part 2: 1978), Sarah Fier (Fear Street), Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Solomon Goode (Fear Street) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, The Haunting of Bly Manor AU, Not Canon Compliant, Haunted Houses, Ghosts, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Canon Lesbian Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Au Pair Sam, Gardener Deena, Housekeeper Kate, Cook Simon, Josh and Constance as troubled kids, Ziggy and Nick in an unhealthy relationship, minor Cindy/Alice, Martin cameos, special appearances of all the Shadyside killers as ghosts, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, The Rest Is Confetti Summary: The year is 1994. Samantha Fraser recently moved to Shadyside, and she desperately needs a job that will help her leave her troubled past behind. She starts working as au pair at Shadyside Manor, where she is not the only one tortured by ghosts. Grief, regrets, guilt, innocent victims, and an ancient curse. At the center of all of it... love.

Chapter 4:

Sam really didn’t want to eavesdrop, but it was a hectic day for everyone but here. It was an accident, really. She just wanted a glass of water, but when she heard Deena and Kate arguing in the kitchen, she stopped before reaching the doorway, and couldn’t help but listen.

“Are you seriously not going?” Deena was saying.

“No, Deena,” Kate replied, in a tone that made it obvious it wasn’t the first time she said so. “I’ll only go to a funeral when I’m dead, thank you very much.”

“Maybe I should kill you then,” Deena grumbled. In the hallway, Sam fought back a smile at the grumpiness of the gardener. “He’s your platonic husband and you’re letting him down in the most fucking tragic day of his life, Kate.”

“He understands,” Kate snapped back at her. “Besides, we’ve let each other down before.”

--

Eavesdropping on teenagers feels even worse. But Sam can’t help herself, again. She just seems to be at the right place at the right time, and nobody hears her coming. She was just looking for Constance and Josh when she found them talking in the classroom in whispers. She worried they might have been planning something unwise, so she listened in for a moment.

“Do you think they can follow us?” Constance asked in a whisper.

“No, I don’t think it works like that,” Josh replied.

The girl hummed thoughtfully and then added, in a considerably more distressed tone, “Do you think they’ll try to stop us?”

“Shh! Constance!” Josh stopped her. “Let’s just… see what happens, okay? We’re in this together, right? All of us.”

Sam considered intervening, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what they were talking about. She could barely keep track of their changing moods or Constance’s name. In the end, she walked away, deciding to keep an eye out and studying them more closely when she had the chance.

--

Sam had tried her best, but she really had nothing else to do at the moment. It was strange, having a day mostly free from her responsibilities as au pair. Deena would be taking Josh and Constance with her to Simon’s mom’s funeral. A little lost in her thoughts without anything else to do while they all got ready, Sam took a seat near the bottom of the stairs, looking out at the gardens she could see through the open door. It started out as a particularly sunny day, not at all something you’d expect for a funeral.

The au pair was leaning against the railing of the stairs. A little behind her, under the safety and familiarity of the manor’s shadows, Harry Rooker stood perfectly still. His clothes hadn’t changed at all in all the decades he had been wandering those halls, even his bowtie was in still place. The same couldn’t be said about his face though. The passing of the years, one after another, had slowly washed away his features. His eyes were no longer there, his mouth was barely noticeable and his nose wouldn’t likely last long. The burn on the side of his face, which had hurt him so much during the war and cost him so much even after his return, was still there, stubbornly, almost mocking him. As well as his knife, always in his hand, always sharp. Never being useful anymore.

The sound of a heavy pair of boots coming down the stairs, as often, disturbed the peace of the foyer. Sam tried not to look too excited as she turned her head to look at Deena descend the stairs, but when she saw the gardener’s outfit she probably failed to hide her pleased reaction.

“Hi,” Sam gasped a little and stood up, “You look…”

“Like I remembered how to take a shower?” Deena smirked. She reached the bottom of the stairs and showed off her clothes, consisting of all black pants, shirt, and blazer that fit her perfectly, made her look a little too good for a funeral, if Sam had to give her honest opinion.

“Like a waiter,” Sam said, biting her lip to keep that honest opinion from spilling out.

“Hey! Didn’t know that side of you, Sunnyvale. Rude,” Deena replied, smiling the entire time. When her expression softened a little, she asked, “Are you sure you’re okay staying here by yourself?”

“Yes, t’s okay. Besides, Kate’s here too.”

Deena made an unamused sound. “Sometimes it feels like she isn’t,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed quietly. Before the silence could stretch for too long, she spoke up again. “Anyway, I, um, had to… be present in a funeral, not too long ago. It’s… I can’t, again. Not yet.”

As she spoke, Sam couldn’t look Deena in the eyes. Not when the only thing in her mind was Sunnyvale. Peter. Her mother. Peter. Twentyfive entitled children in a classroom. Peter. A heavy engagement ring and suffocating wedding dress. Peter.

But it didn’t start like that. It started with her father getting sick, her mother being cruel enough to divorce him on the spot to save herself from taking care of him, and Sam being already in Sunnyvale, thirty minutes away, when he finally died. It started with her mother wrapping her in her best dress, too old for her already, and dragging her to the neighbors house, because they were rich, and look at that handsome young boy, he already has his eyes on you! They were only eight. But then they were twelve, and Peter got in a fight for her and felt entitled to her attention ever since, and nobody ever told her she didn’t have to give him anything she didn’t want to. So when he demanded it, she gave him a kiss, a second date, the color of her prom dress so he could get a matching tie. She gave and she gave until she didn’t know what else he could take from her, but everyone made her feel like she still owed him. So she gave hiim a second chance when he first hit her, and she gave him her bags when he told her to move in with him, she gave him a third and fourth chance, and she gave him the answer he wanted when he offered her a wedding ring.

“Sam? Are you okay?”

In the blink of an eye, Sam was back in Shadyside Manor, with Deena’s gentle hands on her elbows, anchoring her to reality, and those warm brown eyes worriedly searching her face, not knowing what horrors they could find behind the walls Sam spent a lifetime building.

“Yes,” Sam blurted out. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“Right,” Deena nodded and slowly stepped away from the au pair. “Well, I’m leaving now. Try to come up with something real to tell me when I return, okay?”

Sam suddenly couldn’t come up with any words so she nodded, smiled, and watched holding her breath as Deena walked away from her, not without glancing over her shoulder by the door.

--

Sam stood awkwardly in the middle of the chapel. She had made it too far to turn around now, but she didn’t dare move closer and interrupt Kate who appeared to be praying. Except, before Sam made up her mind about her next move, Kate spoke up without turning around.

“Are you just going to stand there like a ghost?”

“Sorry,” Sam blushed. “Uh, how did you know I was-”

“I have eyes on the back of my head, darling,” Kate replied with a smile and finally turned around.

“Am I interrupting you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Kate softened. “I’m not a funeral type of person. I deal with loss in my own way.” 

“I get it,” Sam nodded. She found the courage to continue walking closer to the other woman.

“If you ask me,” Kate continued, somewhat unprompted, “This is more for our own comfort.” She nodded her head to the side, indicating the five red little candles burning. “You have to be there for people while they’re still alive. Simon gave his entire life for his mother. I’ve been there with him for most of the journey, in ways that I know count so much more than missing out on one tragic goodbye party.”

Again, Sam nodded. She took a seat down on one of the pews close to Kate. She really didn’t want to think about the funerals in her own life. Her mother made sure they arrived late and left early for Sam's father’s funeral. And then a few months ago…

“You two are very close,” she blurted out. It was a statement, a question, and mostly just a way to get Kate to keep talking.

“Best friends since childhood,” Kate said and she wore one of the most genuine smiles Sam had seen on her. “We kissed once, and afterward I punched him in the face. We’ve been inseparable ever since. Which might be the best and worst part about our friendship.”

“What do you mean?”

This time Kate took her time before replying. Her smile was gone.

“Ever since I can remember, I’ve wanted to leave Shadyside and see the world. But there was nothing that could have convinced Simon to leave his mom. He missed a chance to work at a restaurant in Paris, I missed my chance to see the world, but we have each other. We have each other and ninety-nine percent of the time it feels like the right choice.”

The remaining one percent of the time hung in the air of the chapel so heavily it was almost palpable.

“What about now?” Sam asked, not without a good amount of hesitation.

The meaning of her question was obvious. Simon wasn’t tethered to Shadyside anymore. However, there was no answer from the housekeeper. Kate chuckled sadly, completely dismissing the idea of grabbing a bag of her best clothes and her best friend’s hand and moving away to Paris any day now. Instead, she stood up and threw the little box of matches for Sam to catch.

“What?” Why?” The au pair looked back and forth between the matches and Kate.

“Light a candle,” Kate replied. She noticed the confusion in Sam’s face, but the au pair, unknowingly, carried her heart, broken and hopeful at once, on her sleeve. “Dead people, regrets, protection, good luck,” Kate said while methodically fixing the wrinkles on her red skirt, checking her ponytail, and mindlessly passing her hand over the back of her neck. “Everything counts.”

Sam stayed silent. She watched Kate walk out of the chapel and then she moved toward the candles. She moved almost automatically, lighting up the first match, but then she couldn’t bring herself to actually light the candle. The small flame burned bright for a second, highlighting the sadness in Sam’s blue eyes, but she let it die before reaching for a candle. }

Eventually, Sam decided to light up a new match and light up a single candle at random. Not for dead people, and not for her attempts at forgetting about them, but for the time she had wasted trying to please people that did nothing but hurt her for so long.

On the way out of the chapel, Sam made the mistake of glancing at the windows. Of course he was still there. He would never leave her, would he? She had seen him angry at her more times than she could count, but never like that. That expression of outstanding disgust and fury was forever etched in Sam’s memory of him. He was just a shadow, he was pure darkness in the shape of a man she once knew. But Sam had to look away and walk as fast as she could away from him, fearing that any day now his image would definitely leave the restrained space of reflective surfaces and finally kill her, like she had killed him.

--

“Dinner… is served!” Simon announced with a flourish.

Simon and Deena dropped several bags on the kitchen table and they chuckled when everyone else eagerly jumped forward to look at the contents spilling on the table. 

“There’s nothing like an absurd amount of junk food to fix all your problems,” he smiled proudly at the scene in front of him. All the people closest to him with smiles on their faces, exchanging a warm meal and easy conversation. His smile turned just nostalgic enough, thinking about his mother, the woman who taught him that lesson. She used to fix all problems with food. She had special meals for every sickness, mended broken hearts with each person’s favorite food, and she celebrated every occasion with big feasts. So far, Simon couldn’t say she had ever failed.

Simon, Deena, Kate, Sam, Josh, and Constance, sat down at the table. They got started with their junk food feast. Everything was still hot, smelled amazing, and tasted even better. Behind Simon and the teenagers, stood Ruby Lane. She tilted her head one side and the other, observing the scene in front of her. Her slightly blurred expression showed confusion, then a hint of sadness, and finally settled in something surprisingly close to affection. Eating. Food. Good company. Friends. She distantly could remember the feeling of it all. The details had left her a while ago. But if she focused hard enough on the smiles of these strangers, she almost felt right at home, almost felt like she belonged with them, almost let herself believe that if she wanted to she could reach out, take a seat, enjoy a meal with them… Almost, almost but not quite.

At the table, conversation flowed easily. Everyone was enjoying the food, and the adults all had one or two beers with the meals, perhaps a little more. Despite the emotionally heavy day, the group was in a surprisingly good mood. A consequence of growing up in Shadyside, maybe. They were either the best or the worst at coping with loss. The trick was not knowing how to tell the difference between both extremes. 

Sam was a little concerned about the fact that the pair of teenagers looked so refreshed and so much like themselves after attending a funeral. Maybe they just needed the time away from the manor. She just hoped it would last.

While all of them discussed favorite meals and comfort food, Simon finally explained his choice of food for the day. “This is actually from the first place where I worked,” he confessed.

“Really?” Sam asked, leaning forward with a kind smile.

“Yeah. My mom got me the job,” he added. “She was the sweetest woman, but she could be scary as shit if she wanted to. She convinced them to give a part-time job to little old me. I was barely fifteen.”

“Tell her why you got fired,” Kate said, raising a playful eyebrow in his direction.

Simon rolled his eyes and picked up a couple of fries to throw in her direction. “For giving you free food you asshole!”

While all the others laughed, Kate gasped loudly and wore a nearly comically offended expression for a moment. It was her turn to roll her eyes and lean across Deena to look at Sam and explain, “This bitch throwing me food like a toddler? He got fired for being too talented for a food truck, basically.”

“Ah, whatever,” Simon laughed. He ran a hand through his messy blonde hair and pushed through his unexpected shyness to explain. “The food was good, but it was also too slow and expensive. Got me fired but got me noticed.” He stopped then, and tried to make it seem natural and not at all like he was holding back information. Which made Sam think about the missed opportunity across the ocean that Kate had mentioned earlier that day. “But!” Simon went on, with extra cheerfulness on his voice to hide who knows how many things anymore, “now I get to happily cook for all of you, ungrateful little shits that you are.”

“Hey!” Deena protested, stopped a second to swallow her food and continued. “I am grateful. Dude, I love your food. I survived eating this cheap shit almost exclusively for like a decade. I’m in heaven when you cook actual food.”

“Do you just love me for my food?” Simon pouted dramatically. 

Sam watched them banter with a smile. Before she could stop herself, she was joining the conversation. “This actually reminds me of my childhood in Shadyside,” she said, holding up a burger in her hand.

“What?” Kate smirked, “You don’t have these bad boys in Sunnyvale?”

Sam laughed along with everyone else, she was starting to feel just the slightest bit tipsy, and this time decided not to mention the fact that Kate hadn’t even taken a bite of her burger yet. However, she hadn’t managed to shake herself from the weird, nostalgic mood that had had a hold of her the entire day. One moment she was there, seated at the kitchen table in Shadyside Manor, and with the blink of an eye, she was back at an expensive Sunnyvale restaurant.

She had been more than a little tipsy back then, she had needed the courage in any way she could find it. During the meal, a hundred different memories of her mother’s cruel comments on her weight and eating habits passed through her mind. She didn’t push them away though, she focused on them, because it hadn’t been just her mother, and she needed to focus on that pain and resentment. Because seated across from her was Peter. Peter, who had joined her mother in criticizing her. Peter, who never once defended her from his own mother. Peter, who had hurt her emotionally and physically more than anybody else.

Peter, who refused to lose an argument, who didn’t know when to let it go, and would never let her go. They didn’t get to the altar, but since their first kiss, he had assumed only death would take her away from him. He didn’t consider he’d go first, he might have even dreamed of a second or third wife, and one or two times he had been close to being responsible for that sudden end. Instead, it was their anniversary, they were both drunk, Sam admitted more than she had meant to, he was yelling at her in the middle of the street, threatening to kill her, taking a step backward when she reached for him, and then there were the truck’s headlights…

“Oh, yeah,” Sam blurted out, and hoped they wouldn’t notice the way her voice was trembling. “But in Sunnyvale, we add a little caviar on top of the burgers.”

Sam was surprised to see everyone laugh at what she had considered a pretty lame joke. It was a beautiful sound. She didn’t think she’d ever been surrounded by the incredible number of five people that genuinely liked her for who she really was. Josh even choked a little on the food he had been chewing, and Simon slapped his back, maybe a little harder than necessary. It made Kate and Constance laugh even harder. Those were things that Sam noticed, but her focus was actually on the woman beside her. Deena had laughed with all of them, of course. But the soft smile she was directing at Sam was something completely different, something she couldn’t even compare to anything else she had ever experienced. 

When the conversation hit an inevitable lull, Constance was the first one to notice the way Simon’s mood dimmed, his shoulders slumped and he stopped eating, just fumbling with the papers on the table. There was a lot a person could say to a friend that just lost their mother, then there was what a moody teenager with an exceptionally tragic life could offer.

“My aunt was a shit cook,” Constance blurted out. “These burgers were all she got for me when my parents died. But I couldn’t eat it… I thought I would never eat again, which would be okay because that would kill me and I’d be reunited with…” She shrugged, and everyone else at the table listened to her intently, rendered speechless not just by the unexpected confession, but because of her expression, neutral without being insensitive, sincere without being very emotional. “But then,” Constance continued, adding the smallest smiles here and there. “It was like I could hear my mom yelling at me for not eating. Cindy Berman could be a pain in the ass in case you didn’t know. But that feeling… it was like she was right there with me, beautiful and annoying and never gone entirely.”

For a moment, nobody knew what to say. Simon, although his eyes were glassy, smiled brightly at her. “You do not act as if you’re listening to your mom,” he said.

“Hey! I ignored her when she was alive too, she gets it,” Constance rolled her eyes playfully. “But the point is I know that we have to keep eating, and keep living… for them. Don’t we?”

“Yeah, we do,” Simon agreed.

He took a deep breath to get a hold of his emotions and raised his beer bottle to the center of the table, where Kate, Deena, and Sam joined him in a toast for the living. Constance joined in enthusiastically with a can of soda, but Josh didn’t move a muscle.

“Hey, do we have some more beer?” Josh asked a moment later. “I could really use one.”

“Uh, no. Not at fifteen you can’t,” Deena replied immediately. She tensed on her seat.

The teenage boy rolled his eyes and focused on the au pair across the table from him. “Miss Fraser, do you think I could have a beer?” He asked with a sharp, charming smile that looked just a little off on the edges.

“I… agree with your sister, Josh,” Sam replied carefully. She didn’t want to cross any boundaries, but she was also responsible for the teenagers.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve gone without a real drink?!”

“I remember my first beer,” Kate interrupted him, reminiscing with an easy smile on her face. “It was my first time babysitting Constance, and then Christine thought it would be a good idea to give me a beer.”

“My mom hated beer,” Sam said. “She used to say one sip could mean I’ll end up in hell.” Then she took a hearty sip, thinking of her mother and the thousand suffocating rules she’d pressed upon Sam’s shoulders her entire life.

“Well,” Deena smirked, “You did end up in Shadyside so…”

While most of them laughed, Josh’s face contorted into an expression of deep frustration and rage until he didn’t look like himself anymore. “Why the hell am I being controlled by a bunch of dykes?!” He slammed his hand on the table furiously. 

But just as soon as the words left his mouth, Sam and Deena jumped out of their chairs. Deena was his sister, and maybe Sam was just the au pair, but while Deena was so angry that she couldn’t even get any words out, Sam got ahead of her.

“That language, and that attitude, and beyond unacceptable, Josh. You are going to your room right now. No discussion. Did you hear me?” Sam said, her voice firm, unwavering, and her stance perfectly commanding.

All eyes were on her, but she was staring straight at Josh. He didn’t budge, he was stronger than most teenagers Sam had ever worked with, but she was even stronger. She didn’t hesitate at all. She glanced quickly at Constance, and the girl, despite intensely rolling her eyes, stood up and walked toward Josh. She not-so-gently grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the chair. Slowly, and with Josh throwing threatening looks at Sam over his shoulder, they walked out of the kitchen. After excusing herself, Sam followed them. She didn’t look back to see the impressed looks her friends were exchanging, pleasantly surprised by that side of her.

--

“Hey, Sunnyvale,” Deena said as soon as she caught sight of Sam walking down the stairs of the manor to the foyer where she was waiting for her.

Sam reached the end of the stairs and noticed that Deena was wearing a jacket, and holding Sam’s own jacket in her hands. But when the au pair reached out to grab it, Deena pulled back.

“Ah, ah. Not yet,” Deena said. She was smiling, but there was a hint of worry in her eyes. “You only get warmth in exchange for information.” Her words made the au pair chuckle, and Deena instantly felt herself relax a little. “How did it go with my asshole brother?” She finally asked.

“Um, it was fine, I think,” Sam replied. “He… Well, I think he’s embarrassed. He probably regrets it a lot. He’s acting almost as if he doesn’t even remember what he said.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” Deena frowned. She felt pretty embarrassed about the entire incident, and she was so not looking forward to having that conversation with Josh, who apparently had turned into some kind of monster in the place of her sweet younger brother. “I’m sorry about it.”

Sam shrugged and attempted a smile. “If it helps, I think he really listened when I explained that we all just want what’s best for him, and having that makes him luckier than most of us.”

The gardener nodded thoughtfully. “I agree with you there,” she said as she held open Sam’s jacket to help her put it on. Deena was careful, and her hands were confident, but at the same time, she barely touched Sam’s body as she helped her. The only thing she couldn’t help herself from doing was standing perhaps a little closer than necessary. Enough to feel her heart skip a beat when Sam’s blonde hair brushed her cheek, and the smell of some sweet-scented shampoo filled her senses. “But also, how depressing is that for us?” Deena said, stepping back from Sam. The au pair laughed and turned around to stare a Deena, who offered her a hand and said, “Come on, let’s go be depressing outside for a change.”

[blu-joons]

He Makes You Walk Home In The Rain ~ Jeon Jungkook

He never meant anything by it when he asked you to go away. It was flippant and stupid, but in the heat of the moment, it was said without second thought.

Now, as he left the studio, the panic set in when he looked around, unable to find you. As soon as he watched you walk out of the studio he knew he’d upset you, but he’d expected you to make your way to one of the spare rooms, and then when you’d had some time, he could come and apologise to you.

Instead, his calls and texts were left unanswered, and you were nowhere to be seen. He rejoined the boys in the studio, letting go of a frustrated groan.

“Do you think she went home Kook?” Namjoon asked him, resting a supportive hand on your shoulder.

He glanced out of the window, it was pouring it down with rain, the wind blew ferociously, the dark skies made it almost impossible to look out of the window. There was no way you’d go home in that, you hated the bad weather. And with his car still parked outside, he knew your only option would have been to walk.

“She wouldn’t,” he sighed, running his hands through his hair. “She hates the rain, she’s probably hiding or just sitting next door in that coffee shop.”

“We’ve checked everywhere,” Jimin spoke, “look, go home, just see if she is there. We’ll stay here and see if she shows up, she’ll only have gone home. If she’s gone home in this, she’ll probably be thankful to have you there.”

Jungkook nodded, checking his pockets for his keys, before heading straight for his car, throwing his hood up from the torrential rain. The drive was panicky, he was nervous, scanning the streets for you as he drove, no sign showing up.

Nobody would be stupid to go out in that weather, not even you, or so he hoped.

Pulling up outside your house, all the lights were off, which made him feel a little bit better. Scampering out of the car, he grabbed his bag, fumbling with his keys to the front door, unlocking it.

He switched the living room light on, gasping when he saw you passed out on the sofa, mouth wide open, arms hanging down the side, scraping against the floor. He slipped his jacket off before walking over to you, pressing a hand to the top of your head.

“Jagi,” he whimpered, feeling how cold you were sent a shiver down his spine, as he quickly pulled the blanket from over the sofa, resting it over you.

After sending a quick text to the boys to let them know he’d found you, he sat down besides the sofa, running his hands over your body trying to generate some warmth. Your hair was sopping wait, clothes were damp, but you were far too exhausted to even think about that when you came home.

He refused to leave your side until you woke up, forgetting all about his comment, just hoping that you’d be alright.

Eventually you stirred, slowly opening your eyes, meeting his instantly. He smiled softly, resting his hand over yours.

“I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have said what I said,” he apologised, having been wracked with guilt for so long, he was desperate to make things better. “It was stupid.”

“You’re not wrong.”

He chuckled lightly, “can I get you anything? Are you alright? Are you warm? Do you want to get dried off?”

You shook your head, your own mile growing as he desperately tried to make sure that you were alright. You knew he felt bad, but it was your own fault too, deciding to walk home in the weather out of spite.

“Kook, I’m fine right now. Do you think you could lay with me, I’m still a bit chilly.”

Within an instant, he was behind you, with his arms wrapped safely around you, trying to warm you up. The two of you laid for a moment, there was still a small bit of tension between you both, with Jungkook quickly picked up on.

“I didn’t mean what I said earlier,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “I was getting angry and frustrated, and unfortunately you were the first person around, so I took it out on you.”

“It just upset me that you didn’t want me around,” you admitted, staring off into the distance, feeling his eyes stare down at you.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“But it felt that way.”

He let go of a heavy sigh, remorseful that he’d made you feel that way. He was only getting annoyed at himself, but with you around, you were the one to fall victim to his mood. It was never his intention, his short temper simply got the better of him.

“I know it might feel that way, but please know, I didn’t mean it,” he softly spoke, “you know that I love you dearly. I never meant to upset you, or make you walk out.”

You glanced back at him. “I wish it was as easy as that Jungkook, but look at the state of me. I didn’t feel comfortable there anymore, I felt like I had to leave in this weather, otherwise things would get worse between us.”

“I didn’t mean for you to leave.”

It was ifs and buts, and you knew it. It was the usual with Jungkook, if he could turn back time he’d do things differently, or rethink the things he said. But it would never change the fact that you had to go out in the rain.

“Look, I know you’re probably angry at me, but if you don’t let me look after you now, I worry that you’re going to get ill. This is my fault, please just let me make things better.”

Reluctantly, you nodded, feeling his arms wrap around you and carry you up the stairs. Your body was tired, and too weak to argue as Jungkook stripped you out of your clothes, changing into a warm jumper and tracksuit bottoms from his wardrobe.

He then took your hair out of its ponytail, taking a towel from the bathroom to dry most of the moisture out of your hair. After, he repositioned you in between his legs, brushing through your hair until each individual brand shone bright.

In between, he continued to run his hands along your body to warm you up, feeling the cold leave your skin slowly, as you began to reach a normal body temperature again.

“Y/N, I love you, okay. I’m sorry that this happened, I’m just trying to make things right.”

You nodded, keeping silent, breaking his heart. You had no idea how terrible he felt, but you found it impossible to forgive hiim so easily. He’d upset you, and hurt you, and you couldn’t forgive him so easily this time.

It was something between you both, whenever one of you told the other you loved them, the other would always say it back.

But you didn’t.

His legs swung away from you, curling up on his side of the bed. “P-please just tell me you love me,” he whimpered, peering through his hands to you as you turned around to face him.

You knew he was hurting too, as you saw the state he was in. You laid down on your side of the bed, slipping under the duvet, tightly wrapping it around your body. “You know that I love you.”

He hummed, trying to reach out for you under the duvet, but you wriggled away from him. Quickly, his hand came back over his chest, trying to forget that that had ever happened.

“We’ll talk in the morning, goodnight jagi,” he sighed.

“Night Kook.”

---

Masterlist

[thealinaofoz]

Kırık Bir Saat bile İki Kere Doğru. [08.16.19]

Rue makes his way towards the door of his apartment, moving to unbutton the top of his...now spaghetti stained white work shirt, after a drunk man had accidentally sent his plate of spaghetti flying on him that he...really didn't want to have to replace right now, not when he wanted to save every cent he could for the baby's arrival, figuring that it...might come out if he worked hard enough at it in the wash, letting out a small sigh to himself as he undoes another button to pull out the small, golden key on the edge of his mother's chain that he always wore around his neck, to keep it safe, bending down a bit to unlock the door, catching sight of Alina as a small smile begins to spread across his lips. "Evdeyim," he greets, placing a kiss on her cheek. "Feeling better?" He inquires, intently taking her and her response in, before casting his hands down at the now spaghetti stained...couture look. "A new look, gjithe inati," he remarks, letting out a small chuckle in spite of the situation, just being home already making him feel better about it. "How was your day?"

Alina sets the timer on her phone for the drink...the soup, the Concoction's next phase, settling in front of the fan as she keeps the cool damp rag onto her thigh, rubbing vapor rub onto her chest as she closes her eyes, trying to take a Moment. Until she slowly draws one eye open at the sound, softly and empatically responding in kind to Ilion, "On my way...if it's the last thing I do..." She says, until she sees the stain moving to open her other eye as she hears his follow up to it, a concerned look crossing over her face, as she sniffs a bit, moving her hand over her mouth as it causes her to cough a bit. "Do you want me to help to see if we can salvage it?" She moves to offer, her mind bypassing the original question.

"Anything I can do to help?" Rue inquires, wondering if he should brew some tea, or if Alina needed any help with what was brewing on the stove, before he lightly shakes his head, taking her hand. "I can fix it. Dinlenme," he says to her, a softness moving into his tone at the last word as he looks at her, wanting her to have a moment to relax, to rest, to recover, not wanting, some bullshit from the night to get in the way of that, before letting go of her hand for a moment, holding up his finger to signal that he'd only be a minute, before returning back with a clean, albeit well-worn, shirt for wearing around the house, moving to sit down beside her, comfortingly moving his hands along her back. "That can wait. Tell me about your day?"

Alina closes her eyes as she hears the softly spoken request, exhaling and inhaling a breath quietly through her mouth, her nose somehow clogging back up, "Herkes sürekli bunu söylüyor. Söylemesi yapmaktan kolay." Alina lowly mutters to herself as she lets out another breath, turning to him to see the signal watching him disappear before he comes back in another shirt, soon enough feeling the sensations start a slight ease moving through her as she settles into it. "It was fine, just busy. I'm glad to be home..." She admits, the whole day compounded onto of her illness, draining her, leaning back a bit further onto Illi, trying to think on how to Have A Moment, as she cough and sniffs a bit more, "How long is Too Long for her not to have a name, do you think? ...Three years?"

"I'm glad you're home," Rue affirms, a subtle warmth moving through his tone at the words and what was interlaced within them, focusing on providing what comfort he could to Alina in the moment, taking in her words as he rests his free hand on her stomach. "...If she's anything like me? It may take her sixteen years," he muses, a touch of lightness entering his tone, as he thinks back on his younger self and the name he chose, that he had used near exclusively in lieu of his given name, until it had come full circle, back to the name his mother had given him, the meaning of it, the reason for it, having been lost with her, but it still remaining, a part of him, "until I realized how beautiful the name my mother gave me sounded when spoken by someone I loved," he adds, a softness moving through him at the moment he first told Alina his name, his Fist name, and heard her say it, before thinking on their daughter's name, that seemed to allude them, one of the hardest things, to find what was Right. "But it'll come, inspiration can hit unexpectedly," he offers, even though nothing that had come to him thus far seemed...quite Right, and he wanted something Right, something Her, something Special, a gift from her mother and father to carry with her...as grandiose and difficult as that might seem, a feeling remaining within him regardless.

A slow smile forms along Alina's lips as her eyes remain closed, her cheeks rising at the sweet slip in as well, lightly caressing his hand that remained on her stomach, "...So, what you're saying is that...we can save ourselves the trouble and just call her "çocuk" and let her do the hard work for us?" She pieces together, a bit of lightness moving into her tone as she attempts to clear her throat a bit, continuing to move their hands along her stomach, feeling her movement, a low chuckle escaping her. "I think...that's Two Harika bir fikir, baba." She softly grins, taking that as an extra vote of confidence for the idea.

A small smile twitches upwards on Rue's lips, feeling the light caress as he takes in her light words. "Çocuk, bijë, we have our options while she's hard at work picking the right one," he muses back with a bit of lightness of his own as his smile twitches further upwards feeling the movement, a warm chuckle coming out of him at the vote for it. "Seems to be, Anne," he affirms, placing another kiss onto Alina's cheek, feeling the movement again. "Watch, she already has the perfect name that will blow our ideas away that she's been waiting to say," he remarks, a soft, playful lightness moving through his tone. "She'll be like Amber? Really, baba?" He muses, thinking of one of the early names that didn't quite feel Right that was the first of many to join that pile.

"That we do, how lucky for us." Alina lightly confirms as she feels the soft kiss her lips twitching at the sensation, a delighted laugh rolling out of her at the resurfacing "Amber", "She's going to be That Sassy, is she? Where do you think she'll be picking that up from?"

"Her teenage rebellion starting a decade early set of by..." Rue pauses for emphasis as he tries to recall the most egregious name he recalled floating one in half-teasing. "Wisteria," he moves to punctuate the name, drawing it out a bit as he feels another bit of movement, causing a warm chuckle to move from his lips. "See?"

"Wisteria, is it?" Alina repeats, "locking" the name in, "And, here I thought Jeria would be the one to watch out for..." She playfully recalls, a small smile moving onto her lips as she feels the kick.

"Wis-ter-i-a," he draws out once again, a bit of lightness floating into his tone as a small twitch of a smile forms on the corner of his lips, a bit of a chuckle moving from him at the mention of Jeria, before something moves through his mind, thinking on Wisteria, the flower motif of it, but then upon Alina and Jeria's names and their syllables, a flit of a thought moving through hiim. "...what about...Zinnia?" He offers, tentatively trying out the sound of the name for the first time as he hears it carry.

Alina casts a look towards him as she hears the name, "Zin-ni-ahhhh?" She playfully breaks up, "Where'd that come from?"

"Like a less...cfare dreqin version of Wisteria," Rue muses as he flits through in his mind the source of exactly how it had popped into his head, a flit of a smile crossing his lips, before a bit of softness move there as well. "It also reminded me of your name, the syllables, but also..." He moves to pull his phone out to confirm if his memory of the flower was correct, the smile twitching on the corners of his lips as he recognizes it, holding the screen to show Alina.

[nooneofimportance20]

Chapter 2

Patches POV cuz I thought it would be fun!

When it switches back to Dream's Pov, I will let you know.

-Mak

______________________________________________________________

I slowly open my eyes as I feel a soft quaking, and I walk over to the window that looks out onto the flat area in front of a big moving door. I see a gray monster crawling onto the flat area and I shrink away slightly.

My owner gets out of the monster's stomach along with his friend and someone I don't know. They begin to walk over to the door. I can hear muffled talking and the jingling of keys.

When the door opens, I am happy to see my owner but wary of the newcomer beside him. I quickly rub against my owner and the friend before casting a quick glance at the other one and slinking away to my bedroom.

______________________________________________________________

End of Patches Pov. Start Of Dreams Pov.

When I open the door, I can feel Patches brush up against me, but before I can lean down to pet her, she disappears.

"So, what do you think of my humble abode?" I ask.

"It's not very humble," George jokes, "My house is tiny compared to this!"

"He even has a pool. It's unfair the amount of money he makes on Youtube," Sapnap laughs.

"We can't all be as good as I am!" I say in an "I'm better than you" tone while walking through the gray door into the entryway that leads off to a spiral staircase.

"Is anyone hungry?" I question.

"Starving. The plane food was horrible so, I haven't eaten anything in ten hours." George replied with a slightly sad look on his face.

"I could eat," Sapnap commented.

"Okay, follow me," I say, gesturing for them to walk to the left of the stairs and into the kitchen. The kitchen had white cupboards with gold handles and a huge black marble island with wooden barstools.

"Wow, Dream what a nice kitchen you have here, now quit showing off," Sapnap rolls his eyes jokingly.

"I actually quite like the kitchen, Sapnap!" George pipes in.

"Thanks, George," I say, giving him a warm smile.

"You're welcome, Dream," He replies, returning the smile.

"Oh my god, quit flirting and get me my food!"

"First of all, I wasn't. Secondly, if you keep acting like this, you won't be getting food." I pause, feeling my face begin to warm up, " And thirdly, I am way too good looking for George," I joke.

"Remind me to not stand up for him next time, Sapnap," George says, forming a mutual alliance between the two.

"Do you guys want me to order food or, do you want me to make something?"

"Order pizza. Not Little Caesars, though. It's too greasy."

"Dominos!" George shouts with a light hop that makes me smile.

"Okay," I reply. I pull out my phone and dial the number for dominos, after the employee answers the phone I order two peperoni pizzas and one sausage with pepperoni. I hang up the phone and tell the others the food is on the way.

"Do you guys want me to show you to you're room while we wait?"

"I want the same room I had last time!" Sapnap yells running out of the kitchen, past the stairs, and down the hallway. George and I walk together towards Sapnap.

"You and George are going to Share this room. I have an air mattress one of you can use, you two can share the bed, or you can take turns sleeping on the couch."

"George you are sleeping on the couch, this is my room," Sapnap says with a serious look on his face.

"What? No I'm not! I was on a plane for ten hours and I am not about to sleep on the couch," He whips around towards me, "Dream tell him I am not sleeping on the couch! Tell him!" George looks absolutely terrifying when he looks at me.  Sleep and anger do not mix well. I decide to do the only thing that would save me.

"Sapnap, George is not sleeping on the couch."

"SIMP! JUST LET HIIM SLEEP IN YOUR ROOM!"

"I honestly don't care where or who I sleep with as long as I have an actual bed," George replies, looking at me.

"Fine. Sapnap, you can have this room. George, you can stay in my room. I'll take the couch."

"You are not going to sleep on the couch because of me Dream. We can just share the room."

"George, it's fine."

"No, it's not," Sapnap comments.

"Shut up, Sapnap," I mutter.

"it's not a discussion, Dream. This is your house, and you are not going to sleep on the couch," George says sternly, staring me straight in the eyes. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room.

At that moment, the doorbell rang, and I turned away, thankful for the disruption even though I knew I wasn't getting out of the situation completely.

I open the door and see a Domino's delivery girl standing there with the three boxes of pizza in hand.

"Hi! Are you Dream?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Okay. That will be twenty-nine dollars and ninety-seven cents, please," the girl says, handing me the pizza.

(Domino's, why do you have to be so expensive...Maybe I'm just broke, lol)

"Here you go," I smile, handing her the money.

"Have a good day!" she smiles back at me and turns around, walking to her car.

"You too!"

I close the door and turn around to see Sapnap and George standing in the hallway staring directly at me with a look that makes them seem murderous.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"Give me the food, Dream," Sapnap replies slowly.

"No. Quit looking at me like your gonna kill me," I say, sheltering the pizza from him.

"George, you tell him."

"What? Why would George telling me to be any different?"

"Because you L O V E him," Sapnap says, dragging out the 'Love' and 'Him' parts. I can feel my face growing red.

"WHAT?"

"See? He's not denying it!"

"Yeah! Dream lOvEs meee," George adds.

"I DO NOT!" I shout. My face is definitely a dark shade of maroon right now.

"Jeez, don't get so defensive about it."

"Whatever! Just eat your damn pizza," I mumble, handing George the boxes. They are actually two years old. The second I give George the boxes, they run to the kitchen and don't even bother getting plates.

"How is half of this box already gone? You just got the pizza!"

"Idunnomaybethatgirlatehalftheboxorsomething." Sapnap manages to say.

"That's gross, Sapnap."

I pull out my phone to check the time. Only 1:15.

"What do you guys want to do today?"

George pauses to think.

"We could watch some movies?"

"What do you think, Sapnap?"

"Sure."

"George, grab the pizza. Follow me, guys."

We walk to my living room, and George sets the boxes down on the coffee table.

"What movie are we going to watch," Sapnap asks, going in for another slice of pizza.

"I dunno. Dream, you pick."

"Okay," I answer. I grab the remote to turn on the tv and flop down on the couch next to George. "I choose Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone."

"YES! I LOVE HARRY POTTER!" George says, looking at me with a big smile on his face. I laugh.

"I know, George." I see a faint pink color on George's cheeks, and I smile.

I click play on the movie and look at Sapnap. He is looking at me confused from the other couch then gives me a thumbs-up. I don't know what he meant by that. When I look at him again, he is on his phone.

We sit there on the couch for hours just watching Harry Potter movies because I know they are George's favorite. Sapnap left to go put his clothes away a while ago and still isn't back.

I feel a little bit of weight drop on my shoulder that makes me squirm.

I turn to look and see George's head resting on my shoulder. He has his eyes half-closed and looks like he's going to fall asleep any second.

"George," I whisper, nudging him with my shoulder lightly. When he doesn't move, I do it again. "George," I say his name a little louder this time.

"What," He mutters, moving his head a little.

"What happened to 'I honestly don't care where or who I sleep with as long as I have an actual bed'?"

"Give me a bed then."

"You have to get up," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Fine," He mumbles, getting off of my shoulder. "Where is your room, Dream?"

"This way," I say, sitting up from the couch and taking him by the hand. He flinches at the touch but seems to relax soon enough.

I lead him to the spiral stairs and help him walk up because I'm pretty sure he is half asleep already. We get up the stairs and I lead George to a door at the end of the hallway.

He reaches towards the handle and opens the door into my bedroom.

"Nice bed," he comments, flopping down on it and not moving.

This is my chance! I start to walk out of the room and reach for the door nob.

"Don't. Even. Think. About. It. Get over here."

"FINE!" I say, walking over to my dresser and grabbing some different clothes.

I start to take off my shirt when I notice George staring.

"What? Like what you see?" I say, laughing. Even though it's dark, I can make out a slight blush on George's face.

"Shut up and go to sleep."

"But Georgie, how am I meant to sleep knowing there is a pervert in my room?" I ask, tilting my head to the side and trying to get a reaction out of him.

"GO TO BED!"I hold up my hands and crawl into bed, facing away from George. I fall asleep, matching my breaths to his.

"Dream?" I hear a faint whisper and feel arms wrap around me.

Word count: 1,690

[stark-chemical-blog]

Stiles pulled out his phone and called Malia. No answer. He tried calling her again. Again, no answer. He seemed a little worried that she didn’t answer. That could mean a couple things but thankfully, Stiles and I had the same thought. 

“I think she might still be a werecoyote.” I said standing up. 

“That’s a very good possibility. The last time she was a werecoyote like this was when Scott and I found her.” Stiles exclaimed.

“What do you mean?” 

“She doesn’t usually stay a werecoyote for days at a time. It’s always for short periods of time. Being a werecoyote for multiple of days like this, it would be like you being a werewolf for days at a time. Something must be wrong.” Stiles said as he started to pace around my living room. 

“I’m gonna go find her. Want to come with?” I asked as I grabbed my werewolf bag. 

“I wouldn’t be able to keep up..” 

“Just follow me in Roscoe.” I said bolting out the door in werewolf form. 

Werewolves have a much different smell than coyotes do. I learned that from my run in with Derek many years ago. He would tell me that he wasn’t much of a teacher but I haven’t gotten into any trouble. I did learn from the best. Plus, Scott has been here to help with anything I had problems with. Scott makes a better Alpha than I would be. But of the Northeastern territory, I am basically the Alpha. 

I took my time to try to pick up a scent. I am hitting dead ends everywhere I turned. I decided to howl out to see if I would get a response. In the far distance, I hear Stiles blare on the horn. That could mean one of two things: he found her or he was responding to my howl. If he blares the horn again, I would know he found her. So I continue to listen and smell for Malia. 

He blares it again. So I take off as fast as I could towards him. I get about 20 feet away and I see him on his radio from work. I run up to him as I change back to my normal self. 

“Whats wrong?” I asked as I get closer. 

“I found her.” He said as he walks to the back seat. 

I walk up to her wrapped up in a blanket laying down. Her breathing was shallow and quick. Her hair was a mess and there was blood all over Stiles. 

“Please tell me that’s not your blood.” I said looking at him as I walked over to hiim. 

“It’s hers. That’s why I’m calling back up. I tried to put pressure to the wound before I tried calling for you. I heard the howls, I thought you were under the same threat as she was.”

“I think we came to find her at the right time. Any longer, she could’ve been killed.”

“You’re right. Good call to go find her.” Stiles said as the ambulance pulled up. 

Later that night, Stiles and I helped Malia into my apartment onto my couch. The last time I found her here, was the night Sheriff Stilinski shot at her. I wouldn’t forget the look she gave me once I walked into the apartment. I felt something that I hadn’t felt before towards a person and I felt it again tonight. Could it be the alpha coming out in me or was it that she looked at me like she felt safe and I knew I could protect her? 

I grabbed a towel as Stiles propped her onto the couch. 

“Malia, do you want a bath? I could help wash your hair if you need to. I also have some clean clothes for you to change into.” I suggested as I knelt down beside her. 

She nodded as I looked up at Stiles. 

“Do you need any help with that?” Stiles asked. 

“Nah, I think I got her.” I said as I wrapped my arms around Malia’s torso to help her up. 

She grunted as we took the first step. I slowly walked her to the bathroom as softly as I could. I sat her on the toilet as I started to run the warm water in the tub. 

“The hot water would help relax the muscles. I’m sure you’ve had a rough few days.” I said as I watched the tub fill up with water. 

“Why did you come looking for me?” Malia asked. 

I signed as I looked up at her . My eyes looked into hers. “Stiles was worried sick about you and I knew you were in the area. The fact that he didn’t know you were in the area really worried him. Plus, I couldn’t let you be alone. I told you many weeks ago that this would be your safe place.” I said. 

She placed her hand on my shoulder as I looked back at the tub. I turned off the water and then stood up. I gently eased her into the bath. She deeply exhaled as she slid into the hot water. 

“I’m gonna go get you the clothes as you relax.” I said as she looked up at me and nodded. 

I found a baggy tshirt and some basketball shorts. I found her some socks and other clothing that she might need. I’m sure we wear the same size. I walked back into the bathroom to Malia snapping her head towards me. 

“It’s just me, you’re okay.” I said as I sat the clothes on the shelf. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to this much kindness.” Malia said as she started to relax.

“You’re one of us here. You and I have something in common. So we have to stick together.” I said as I started to put shampoo in her hair. 

“Like a pack?” She asked. 

“Could a werecoyote and a werewolf have a pack together?” I asked. 

“I wouldn’t see why not. You’re already treating me like one of your pack.” Malia said. 

“It’s because you are.” I exclaimed as I gave her a heartwarming smile. 

[meetmefireside]

lostandfound. 1.

Thankful for:

1. My husband. I forget how lucky I am to live the life I do. I work all the time, which takes a lot out of my soul. I see myself turn into this person I don’t recognize when I’m working, and  I find myself contemplating escape constantly. Then, I come home, and I am whole again. I have been with him for 9 years and married for 4 of those. The comfort I feel around him warms my iced, seemingly callous heart. I come home to peace and love every single day. Complete contentment with a person. I cherish that.

2. My home. I spend a lot of my mental energy complaining and hating where I live. True, the people around me aren’t necessarily likeminded. I make friends and connect with others, because I like people and having a good time. I have no shortage of people who make me laugh. However, I have had extreme difficulty finding people that I can relate to on a spiritual level. Finding people who I can see raising my children with me, and supporting the values that I believe in. While I am accepted, because I meet the picture on the outside, people often struggle grapple with my difference from them. While I don’t mind being eclectic and challenging people’s perceptions, I find myself fleeing so whole-heartedly from labels that I lose myself. This makes me want to escape. Be a nomad. Shun deep connection. I am so afraid of deep connection with people here, because I feel that I will be hurt by them. I fear that once the novelty of who I am and what I think wears off, I will be discarded. Thus, I feel this need to keep surprising. Keep revealing parts of myself that are different. Why is that important to me? I don’t know, but I don’t like the person it makes me become. What does this have to do with my home? My home is my sanctuary. It is a beautiful expression of my personality. The dollar goes so much farther in a place like this, and I have been blessed with the means to create this haven for myself, my husband, my pets, my family members. It’s a very functional place for my 3 dogs and cat to roam and enjoy life, and by virtue of this, transfer their joy to me. I love it here. If I could pick up this house and move it with me wherever I went, I would. In a sense, I feel trapped, but secure. I can’t put my finger on it. I want to move away so badly. I want to feel free so badly. But where is my place in the world? I don’t know that, yet.

3. My jobs. They take a lot out of me. They bring me a lot of pain because I allow them to bring my pain. However, the actual job is better than I ever thought I would have.

4. The ability to travel. I wouldn’t say growing up this was my primary goal. We did travel frequently when I was younger, but I didn’t understand the value of what my parents were giving me. This became a dream for me in college. I would scroll through Tumblr and day dream about escaping. I am the most at peace when I have boarded a plane. I have made it to my seat. My carry on is in the overhead bin. A long day of travel lays ahead, but I am on the vessel of my escape. Sometimes I wonder why I post things on Instagram when I travel. It connects me to people back home. It connects me to the world that I don’t want to think about. I think it’s this desire to remember. I am so afraid of forgetting my life experiences. I am only 26, and I have issues remembering people from my past, already. I don’t want to be in my 50s, and I can’t remember the trips I took. The experiences I had.

5. My parents and family. I’ve received unconditional love my entire life. I am so blessed to be from a stable home. I am thankful that my parents are still together and have a good time together. They are very different, and sometimes their differences are highlighted, but they have both made me into the person that I am. I see myself wholeheartedly in both of them. I witnessed them experience a lot of hurt over the past year. I’ve learned that I am very protective of them. I just know who they are and they have given so much to me. I have complete faith in them. I know that my dad, in particular, strives to do what’s right and lives with a high level of moral compass. Growing up where I have, you are constantly being pulled into the illusion that a church-going person is a moral person. My father never went to church with us growing up, but he is a pillar of moral character for me. In my eyes, he can do no wrong, because I know what his intentions are. He wants to leave a good legacy behind, and it’s in every move he makes. I am naturally like him in a lot of ways. I feel like he took a lot of steps for me, to create a life for me, where I can skip those steps and reach further. When speaking to him, I can tell he senses time is running out. I identify with this strongly. I want to leave a legacy for him, and I want hiim to fulfill his goals.