#like I saw it in last week’s chapter but I think I hallucinated it

[tonariofjananda]

What’s she listening to?

WIP, prolly gonna line and color this in later but I like how this looks so far c:

[uwupaige]

the nanny [paige bueckers] part nine

(chapters 15 & 16)

‘the nanny’ master list!

chapter fifteen: pink frosting.

paige pulled her car into her designated spot outside of her condo building, exhaustion clear as day on her face. the estimated thirty minute drive from the airport took longer than necessary, something about a sunday afternoon causing tons of traffic. the thought of having to unload all of their luggage and drag it upstairs already exhausted her even more, knowing madison wouldn't be any help. and the fact it had begun to snow, she knew she had to be fast, or else madison would get busy playing in it.

sighing, paige unbuckled herself from her seat, turning off the engine and stepping out of the warmth of her black vehicle and into the chilly atmosphere. she quickly made her way to the trunk of her car, pulling out the two large suitcases they used for the week, along with the several backpacks they used as well. and as if the universe had heard her internally complaining about the load she had to take in on her own, the sound of a familiar, but completely unexpected, scream interrupted her whining.

the blonde looked up hesitantly at where the noise had seemingly come from, unsure if she'd even want to know. however, it was none other than an excited catherine, standing at the porch of paige's condo. the woman had a blanket she definitely pulled off of paige's couch draped over her shoulder in attempt to protect her from the cold, an arm sticking out as she waved down the two girls a few floors down from her.

and then, as soon as she was there, she was gone. paige furrowed her brows, confused at everything that was happening. maybe it was just because she was tired, or maybe the last argument she had with her mom was still heavy on her mental and could've been causing hallucinations.

"was that cat?" madison asked from beside the woman, only further assuring her that it was indeed real.

"i think so?" paige replied just as unsure.

the brunette returned to their sight a few minutes later, an actual jacket on her torso now as she made her way out of the front door to paige's building.

the same excited smile grew across her face as she got closer to the bueckers, her arms opened wide when she saw madison heading towards her.

"maddie!" the woman called out, to madison's surprise. like she didn't know it was catherine until she heard her voice. the girls face mimicked catherine's as she ran over to her, somehow not slipping in the snowy parking lot. catherine crouched down to catch madison in her arms, squeezing her as tight as she could. "oh- i missed you, mamita. how was it? was it fun?"

madison then went on and on about the trip as a whole, down to the snacks she got to eat on the plane ride back to storrs. catherine just nodded enthusiastically as she pulled the girl out of her embrace, letting her finish her story, her active listening skills showing out.

once madison was done with the majority of her story, catherine stood up from her crouch, her eyes finally meeting paige's blue ones. as if they could read right through one another, catherine immediately knew that look on paige's face, knew the reason for the bags under her eyes, and why she looked so relieved to see her.

catherine gave the blonde a smile, a sweet and gentle one.

"hey, p," her voice was much calmer, softer than when she was just talking to madison. "c'mere." she prompted, walking closer to paige until their bodies connected in a hug, her arms coming to wrap around her shoulders naturally, like they had hugged each other every day.

but they didn't hug each other every day.

they never hugged.

paige's brows furrowed momentarily, her hands hesitantly coming up to catherine's back as she held her in the embrace. though she wasn't expecting it, she was not about to complain. a hug from catherine could probably heal the world, and she'd been patiently waiting for her turn.

every time madison was sad, or had an 'owie', she'd run to catherine for a hug. like it was the only thing that could make her feel better. and right now, paige understood and agreed completely. she'd been looking for this hug all week—she needed it.

catherine could've sworn she felt paige melting into the hug, different from the initial tense body she started hugging moments prior. she could tell paige was tired, in need of some support. her weight was heavy and her grip was tighter than either of them realized.

catherine didn't let herself dwell over the fact that paige was hugging her, this being the first time their bodies were this close, and in such an intimate manner. she didn't think too deeply about how a family of butterflies invaded her stomach, or the sense of relief she also felt during their embrace. and god forbid she noticed the way paige's hands slid across her back and waist as she pulled away from the hug, lingering in its place naturally. or the way it left her mind wandering down a dangerous, inappropriate path—she just focused on paige.

pulling away after a few moments passed, catherine give paige a sympathetic smile. "you alright?"

paige nods, a small smile on her lips. "better now that i'm home."

catherine's smile stayed as she looked between the blonde and the small girl next to her. she knew that paige just needed a break, a moment to relax.

"hey, maddie." the woman fully turned towards the five year old, hands falling to her knees as she bent down to be eye level with the girl.

"hm?" madison hummed.

"i have something super fun planned inside!"

the girls eyes widened and lit up, and catherine would have sworn she saw stars in her eyes. madison was always so excited for an adventure, anything new. "what is it?!"

"you gotta go see for yourself!" the brunette replied in a tone that mimicked madison's thrilled one.

madison made her way through the little snow fall, not missing the warnings from paige and catherine to slow down or be careful as she began trekking several feet ahead of them.

as they walked into the bueckers home, a smell that could only be described as christmas lingered, along with music that fit perfectly with the holiday spirit.

it wasn't until then that paige noticed catherine's christmas themed pajama pants. red and green plaid clung comfortably to her legs, and she paired it with a dark, red top. paige cursed herself internally for basically checking catherine out, her eyes moving up and down her body bashfully. she hated how easily entranced she became in the woman's presence. she hated how her body naturally looked that good. and she hated how she could tell catherine wasn't wearing a bra, and how much it made her stomach flip.

or maybe she just hated it because she knew it was so far out of reach. so unattainable. that's when she knew she was in deep.

'cut it out,' paige thought to herself.

madison gasped a few moments after entering her home, excitement rushing through her, though she didn't know what to expect—the sound of christmas jingles enough to rile her up. "what're we doing, cat?"

"we're making christmas cookies!"

madison jumps in excitement, turning to paige swiftly. "oh! oh! mom, can we put up the christmas tree?"

paige smiles down at the girl, glad there was something to snap her out of her thoughts. leave it up to madison to always keep you on your toes.

"yeah, babe, of course."

˚✧.*

the three girls have been standing in paige's kitchen, all focused on something specific to the cookie baking process as they conversed about their week apart.

"what'd you and molly do while you were there? in new york?" paige asked as she began preheating the oven, looking over a recipe she found online.

"nothing much.." the brunette responds, kneading one half of the sugar cookie dough, madison taking her time on the second half. "she took me to the city for a day, it was beautiful. too crowded for me, though."

paige snorted quietly. that sounded like something catherine would say. "you're the only person to go to new york city and expect it not to be crowded."

scoffing, catherine looked past her shoulder momentarily to stare daggers at the blonde, noticing how she began to struggle with the oven. "listen, i love new york," the woman defended, "seriously, if i ever run away, it'll be to new york." she explained, "but i would not live in the city."

"you're such a baby." paige teased, a laugh following her words.

"can you just hand me the damn cookie cutters, please?" catherine dismissed the blondes teasing, shooing her off to do something that wasn't bothering her. "they're in that bag."

paige rummaged momentarily through the brown paper bag that carried all of catherine's favorite baking essentials, but came up short. taking the bag in her hand, she walked over to catherine like a lost child, "they're not in here."

catherine looked up from her cookie dough rolling and into the dark bag, noticing that the christmas themed cookie cutters were indeed not in there.

"shit, i must've left it in the car." she spoke, mainly to herself.

paige watched as the woman began dusting off her hands and placing her utensils down, like she was getting ready to leave.

"i can go get it," the blonde offered quickly, before catherine could get too far.

"oh, it's okay, i can gr—"

"no, let me," paige proposed once more, this time her hand casually falling to the brunettes back, willing her to stay.

as soon as her hand was there, was as soon as it was gone. though, the chills down catherine's spine stayed stagnant, yearning for her to touch her again.

something about being away from each other longer than they were used to made things feel different now that they were back. the amount of times they had shared touches tonight probably would have added up to every single time they've touched ever before.

catherine cleared her throat in attempt to clear her mind at the sound of her car keys jingling, and the front door closing behind paige.

letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding in, the woman began helping madison roll out her cookie dough.

moments passed and madison if now was the right time to talk. "cat?"

"yeah, mama?"

"grandma got upset that i called paigey mom." madison had waited to talk about this, knowing her mom a little too well, not wanting to hurt her feelings or upset her. this setting reminded her of the first time she spoke with catherine about this, and it prompted her to continue it now.

catherine just snorted, having heard all about it already, "did she?"

madison nodded, "yeah, she was really mad at mom."

catherine shrugged, "it's okay, you don't have to worry about it." she assured the girl, giving her a comforting smile, one that always made madison feel at home.

"why does grandma not like it though?" the girl inquired, pushing away a piece of curly hair that fell in front of her face.

the woman shrugged again, "i'm not sure, mama."

madison thought about what she was about to say, quite intelligent for being so little. she let a long moment pass, willing catherine to look up from her cookie dough once more. she had an expecting look on her face, like she knew madison was wanting to say something.

in that moment, paige made her way back. brand new, unopened, pack of cookie cutters in hand as she stopped in her tracks at the silence she walked in on. as if she knew this was meant to be a private conversation, she closed the door softly behind her, creeping slowly down the small corridor before she walked into the kitchen.

"can i call you mom? or would she get mad at that also."

catherine did a double take, not expecting madison to say that at all.

"what?" catherine asked, but she heard the girl loud and clear. her voice was soft, like that instantly made her fragile, and laced in confusion.

"can i call you mom?" the small girl repeated, her voice youthful and full of wonder, not understanding the deepness behind her words.

catherine didn't know it, but paige's face mimicked hers at the moment, glad she listened to her gut feeling about eavesdropping on their conversation.

"oh, mamita.." catherine started, oblivious to the feeling of tears welling up, "i don't.. you can't.." the woman tried, but she came up short. this meant so much to her—madison meant so much to her—but she knew she couldn't just let that happen without paige knowing, something so fragile. "paigey's your mom, okay?" her voice was gentle as she tried to deny the girl as softly as possible. "y'know, she makes your 'owies' feel better, and she reads you your favorite books to sleep, and she loves you."

"you do those things, cat."

the woman internally cursed how smart and aware the girl was. she really was smart.

catherine sighed, giving madison an unsure look. this was the first time she truly had no answer for the girls problems. madison looked back down at her half of the cookie dough, and catherine wasn't sure if she looked sad or not. "i do love you, though." she assured.

madison looked up, her face bright with a smile again. "you do?"

"more than i think i realize."

"what?"

"i just mean that i do really love you." the brunette explained to the girl, "and i love being here with you and paigey, and helping you grow.." she trailed off momentarily, "and i wanna be best friends forever."

"promise we'll be friends forever?" madison asked the woman next to her genuinely, like she'd be afraid that she would disappear if she didn't.

catherine nodded, her face contorting as she fought back tears. "yeah," she nodded, her voice cracking as she reached to pull the girl into a hug. "of course."

they hugged for a moment, catherine doing everything in her power to not cry—or at least let these tears fall—before madison spoke again. "i love you too, cat."

well, so much for not letting the tears fall. the woman wondered if it would be obvious that she had started to cry, immediately reaching to wipe her tears away, sniffling back any snot that dared to leave her nose.

paige stood down the small corridor, once again mimicking catherine's emotions. they were too alike, sometimes, wiping at her own tears. her heart was full and simultaneously hurting. madison cared for catherine more than her small mind could comprehend, and to think that catherine would never be more than a friend (to her or to madison) devastated her to no end.

the sound of the oven beeping took her out of her thoughts, and catherine's comment after that. "where's paigey? the ovens ready for the cookies."

the blonde quickly tiptoed back to the door, opening it loudly this time before shutting it like normal, acting like she had just strolled in. walking in, she found the girls like she left them.

"cookie cutters have arrived," she announced.

"i call the christmas tree ones!" madison called.

˚✧.*

"cat, it's not turning red." madison spoke aloud her dilemma to the woman beside her, mixing away at the pink frosting that she intended to be red. "is it because the frosting is white?"

the brunette nodded, "that's right, you'd need something stronger to make it red."

madison sat back, huffing at all of the work she put in for no outcome. "boo."

catherine just grinned at the girl, then turning to the other side to catch paige really focused on her cookie design. her brows were furrowed and she had been quiet for a good minute now.

"you're serious 'bout that cookie."

paige nodded, still focused as she half answered. "gotta be precise." she mumbled.

peering over to catch paige's.. artwork, catherine snorted lightly.

"what?" paige challenged.

"he looks wonky." the woman admitted about the snowman shaped cookie.

"you look wonky." the blonde insulted back, to which catherine gasped dramatically.

"take that back!"

"aight, aight, i'm sorry." paige apologizes.

catherine should've known better than to think she was being serious, though.

"it's fi—" the brunette cut herself off at the feeling of paige's finger dragging green colored frosting down her nose.

catherine gasped as madison broke out into fits of laughter, and paige awaited her next move. she didn't pay too much attention though because as soon as she started to laugh, catherine was grabbing the bowl of bright, pink frosting madison was once working on and smearing some down the woman's cheek.

the two stared at each other momentarily before going all in.

their faces and arms were covered in different colors of frosting as they continued to fight one another with the sugary substance. even poor madison was eventually pulled onto the battlefield, though she took it like a champ, laughing all the way to the finish line.

"cat!" the blonde giggled, catherine clearly winning their impromptu food fight.

˚✧.*

their frosting fight didn't last too long before madison started crying about getting some in her eye. soon, catherine was wiping her whole face off with a rag and reminding her of her bed time.

"alright, mama, go hop in the shower and head to bed." the brunette instructed once she wiped the last bit of baby blue frosting off of madison's face.

madison was about to protest, but a sudden wave of sleepiness washed over her, and the sound of a yawn leaving her lips rather than an argument was more than enough reason to take the loss.

paige stood their patiently, watching the way the two of them interacted. she thought about much their bond meant to her. how if madison asked to call anyone else their mom, she would immediately feel jealous, or hurt. but not catherine. something about that felt right. it made sense to her.

the blonde wished her daughter a goodnight, leaning down to place a kiss to the top of her head, praying catherine didn't miss any extra frosting in her hair that would be crusted by the morning.

as madison walked off, catherine turned to find paige as messy as she left her, definitely being the sole winner of their frosting match. she giggled once more, the same rag in her hand coming up to start wiping at her face.

"how's it feel to lose?"

"i don't know, i've never lost before in my life." paige answered dramatically, turning her head to help catherine out with her cleanup.

though that didn't last long, the woman before her deciding to throw the rag at her chest, leaving her to clean herself up. "i'm done with you."

the blonde just laughed as she started at her face again, wiping off the streaks of pink as catherine went to wet another rag, cleaning herself up now.

they stood their in comfortable silence as they wiped away any evidence of their childish behavior, paige being the first to finish. she watched catherine wipe at her face, and noticed how she kept missing this one small, spec of bright green frosting that landed just below her bottom lip over and over again.

"can i.." paige attempted, her hand coming up to rest against the woman's face. her thumb swiftly swiped against catherine's plump, bottom lip.

catherine's breath hitched in her throat momentarily, that being the most intimate thing to happen to her in years. every touch they shared today was more than she was used to, and it was beginning to turn her on.

on instinct, catherine slightly caught her bottom lip between her teeth, still looking up towards the slightly taller blonde.

the air was stuffy all of the sudden, neither one of them willing to move or speak first.

they shared a look of understanding—like they both knew what just happened, how the air shifted, and how their eyes were suddenly darker—and it was too late to try to brush it off without acknowledging it.

the feeling of paige's gaze sent chills down the brunette's spine. cocking an eyebrow at her, catherine waited for her to say anything. at this point, she was waiting for her to make a move.

though, she wasn't sure these feelings she kept denying were being reciprocated.

the moment came and went with no verbal communication for a long, quiet minute.

"there, you.. sorry, you just kept missing it." the blonde finally spoke, her hand finally dropping from the woman's face and into her pockets as she felt the sweat begin to pool in her palms. she wondered if catherine could feel it, and it caused her cheeks to grow red.

"oh, uh, thank you."

another long moment of silence washed over them, the tension in the air begging for either of them to speak.

"do you, uh, wanna stay and.. catch up?" paige asked, a tone catherine would only describe as shy in her words, one she had never heard from paige.

catherine was about to say no, attempting to run away from her feelings once again. and then, she heard the unfortunate tone of her best friends voice in her head. "you're not over chris and that's why you don't want to accept that you like paige."

catherine knew she was over that part of her life. and she knew she wanted paige. she needed to stop running. paige had been nothing but sweet and caring to her. and there was something about her that was different. something she'd never experienced or felt with anyone ever before. whether it be just a friendship or something more, catherine knew she didn't want to let the woman go, for she'd grown immensely attached to her and madison.

maybe it took molly's pushy attitude, or having to go so many days apart, but she had finally started to accept it.

she really did like paige.

"yeah.. yeah, i'd love to." catherine spoke breathless, nodding softly.

paige's smile in return was nothing short of the definition of giddy.

chapter sixteen: it's kinda hot.

˚✧.*

the two women were having a great night together, catching up about their weeks apart, and more in depth now that madison wasn't present for it. they shared their feelings about the adversity they were met with, paige more than catherine by a long shot. catherine was a great shoulder to lean on for paige, and paige knew she wouldn't let her be down for long. like when she offered to show her an interpretive dance to some christmas tunes to get a laugh out of her.

paige was sprawled out on her living room couch, sinking into the dark grey cushions, a random blanket balled up behind her head to act like a makeshift pillow. the room was dim, only illuminated by the warm lamp in the corner and the t.v. right in front of her.

a smile tugged at her lips as she watched the show catherine was putting on in front of her. the woman was still clad in her christmas pajama pants, still sad deep down that paige wouldn't match with her for the time being. a half empty wine glass sat comfortably in her hand as she danced, paige praying to god that she didn't spill any of it on her nice carpets.

"okay, and then you do this.. 'feliz navidad.'" the brunette sang dramatically, pacing the living room, her bare feet shuffling against the soft carpet beneath her.

paige just snorted, closing her eyes momentarily as she shook her head at the ridiculousness in front of her. a look of adoration played on her face like she was entranced, grinning at catherine. "no way you're doing this right now."

catherine totally dismissed her statement, her focus now on the blonde before her. the woman inched closer to her, eventually letting her palms rest against the small coffee table separating them right now. she leaned in closer, examining paige. her face must've replicated the curiosity in her mind, because paige's brows quickly furrowed, nervous at why the energy had just shifted, almost pulling back when catherine leaned in. "what?"

catherine's face softened instantly at her words, grinning down at paige. half thinking about what she would say next, she shook her head. "your eyes look so pretty in this lighting."

that was only part of their activities for the night. they shared the cookies they made earlier, sure to not eat too many so madison could enjoy some the next day, trading in their alcohol for a cold glass of milk (paige going the extra mile and making hers chocolate).

they dared one another to go outside into the cold, snowy storrs night with no jacket on to see who could last the longest—spoiler alert, it was paige.

and the other made catherine question whether or not she wanted want to runaway all over again.

paige was hovering over the light purple suitcase she had just hauled onto her clean sheets, rummaging through the clothes and accessories she had in there from her trip to montana that week. she knew if she didn't tackle it now, she never would.

her knees lightly tapped against the black bed frame each time she leaned in to pull out an item of clothing, folding them semi-neatly if they were clean or throwing it into her hamper if the opposite. she focused in on this little task, leaving her and catherine to sit in comfortable silence outside of the christmas music they could hear still playing in the living room.

the woman looked up from her chore to find catherine slowly walking around her room, arms crossed naturally over her chest. a smile played on her plump lips as she took in all the little details paige encouragingly incorporating into her small, personal space: pictures and polaroids of her loved ones framed or hung up along her off white wall and dark dresser, her small book collection of strictly romance novels that rested comfortably on her minimalistic bookshelf that azzi got her into, her choice of dark blue bedding that had a small uconn husky specifically stitched into the left corner of it—everything.

"you're so cute." the brunette called out from the other side of the bed, which made paige look up quickly. her eyes would have widened and her stomach would have dropped had she not caught catherine looking at a picture of her when she was about seven years old, sporting a clearly oversized football jersey. that quickly calmed her thoughts.

"thanks." the blonde chuckled out, looking back down at the last few pieces of items she had to return to her living space from her luggage.

catherine continued to snoop, really taking in every picture paige had hung up on her dresser. she recognized the woman's teammates in a lot of them, and a woman in one that she assumed to be paige's mom. they had the same smile. and she couldn't help but notice the one of her and madison sitting together at the park near the woman's condo.

it was a selfie catherine took a little over a month ago that she had sent to paige as a mid day update, having known she probably wouldn't have seen her daughter that day.

it made her heart flutter. she really was apart of their lives now, and she played an important role. and something about seeing her face in a framed photo with her favorite person in the whole world in the bedroom of her other favorite person (in the whole world) sort of solidified that in her mind.

but, what really got her was a picture of paige and madison right after the girl was born. it was an intimate photo, one paige probably didn't show everybody she ever met or would talk about madison to. she was holding newborn madison, sunk into her hospital bed and gown, smiling down at her daughter. it brought tears to catherine's eyes, gasping lightly.

"oh.." her voice was soft, genuine. paige looked up, wondering what photo catherine was looking at now. but, by her reaction, she almost knew which one. "que lindas.." the woman spoke out loud with her native tongue, complimenting the girls in the picture, picking up the framed photo to examine closer.

paige was about to ask what that meant, but the other question that had been on her mind quite a lot poked first. "where's your accent from?"

catherine looked up from the picture in her hands, gently placing it back into its respective place. she cleared her throat so her words didn't come out as small as they wanted. "puerto rico.." she trailed off, cheeks growing a light shade of red that looked almost dark pink against her skin. "you can hear it?"

the blonde shrugged, lips pursing as she thought to herself. "it's faint. comes out a little when you speak spanish."

catherine began to fight with herself mentally, hating that anybody could hear it. to her, it sounded bad, out of place. she needed to watch what she would say. but being around paige and madison just felt so comfortable and normal she would not even think twice about half the things she said or did. "god, that's embarrassing."

paige shrugged once more, disagreeing with her statement, shaking her head. "it's kinda hot."

the woman simply laughed, true and genuine, throwing her head back once in amusement. those were honestly the last words she expected to hear from her.

"fuck, are you drunk?" she asked seriously, though she was still chuckling. something about paige saying that to her face completely sober just didn't add up in her mind, especially knowing how she was when she was under the influence.

"not anymore. wine isn't as strong as i thought."

shaking her head, trying to distract them both from that comment, mainly so she wouldn't blush, catherine started to brew together a joking insult to lighten the mood. "weird. for such a big person, you're such a lightweight."

"what the fuck do you mean 'big person'?" the blonde asked, jokingly offended, as she slid the now empty suitcase off of her bed, rolling it over to an open corner in her room.

catherine scoffed like it wasn't an obvious fact, hands coming up to rest on her exposed waist. "jeez, p, i mean—two dirty shirley's and you're gone."

"you're literally a liar!" paige countered, voice high pitched, unable to believe the playful teasing coming her way. she made her way over to catherine, sitting at the edge of her bed.

catherine's brows shot up, a challenging look on her face. "should i remind you of the first night we met."

"cat, you swore we wouldn't talk about it." paige warned, a finger coming up to hang in the air like it would pause the woman's thoughts, make her forget about what she was about to say. "plus, you put double shots." she explained to her defense.

however, catherine didn't hear any of that, a playful grin on her face as she thought about the fire she was going to start.

slightly inching towards the blonde, who was now fully sat at the edge of her bed, legs spread apart just a little, her feet planted on the ground, her voice dramatically mimicked paiges. "'you have such a great body, cat.'"

the woman simply shook her head, not willing to let her laugh come out. and she prayed that the heat now rising through her body at the reminders of how she first felt

for catherine wouldn't show up against her pale cheeks, her palms already growing sweaty.

"'mm, cat, that's such a cute name.'" the brunette continued, determined to get paige to crack. though this time, instead of trying to sound like paige, she put on her best, funny impression of a seductive voice, this making paige even more embarrassed.

"catherine!" paige pulled out the full name, begging her to stop. she couldn't believe this was happening.

"ah, cat, come meet me in the bathroom."

the blonde finally laughed out loud, shaking her head back and forth, waving a hand in the space between the two. "i didn't say that, you freak."

catherine scoffed, "me the freak? can you even recall the name of the girl you actually hooked up with in the bathroom that night?" she challenged once again.

to which paige had no answer for her, dismissing her completely. "oh, you wanna know about my sex life?" she challenged. "very personal."

the brunette rolled her eyes at her dismissal, though she was actually want to hear about her sex life, prompting her next response. "yeah, actually."

paige just shook her head, her turn to dismiss catherine, "get outta here.. acting like i was thirsting over you or sum."

"you so were."

paige's tongue met her front teeth, sucking against them and looking away, hiding her embarrassment. "was not. i'm just a nice person, thought you shoulda known."

catherine rolled her eyes, attempting to turn back and face the army of photos she had been observing. then, suddenly, a wave of confidence she didn't normally feel unless she was working the bar took over. though, it didn't come out as confident, more so just bold. especially since she was shyly looking away. "what else, then?"

paige furrowed her brows, taking a sip of the chocolate milk she had been lugging around with her all night, before reaching over to leave it on the nightstand where her lamp was, that being their only source of light. smacking the taste against her tongue one time, she asked, "'what else' what?"

maybe she got too ahead of herself. it could've been the wine from earlier, or the undeniable signs throughout their day together that they were both feeling the same, but she wanted to know for sure. she needed to know. "what else do you think."

even paige was unfamiliar with this kind of attitude from catherine, the shift in her tone and attitude clear as day. it was the kind that attracted her to the woman the first night they met. it made her cheeks grow hot, though it could've just been the wine. or maybe that was just an excuse. she wasn't sure what she wanted her mind to think.

"'bout you?" the woman asked, her tone more confident though she was nervous, both her and catherine's body language and tone of voice contradicting how they felt inside.

catherine simply nodded with a light hum. "mhm."

"for real?" paige asked again, and catherine nodded once more. she was genuinely curious now.

"i mean.. you're great with maddie." she started, her sweaty palms now feeling like pools the more she thought about her feelings for catherine in depth. for a moment, she clasped her hands together, before ultimately opting to let them fall at her sides, holding herself up against the soft bedding.

catherine wanted to roll her eyes, probably a reaction from the anxiety she was starting to feel. paige simply had to have more to say than that. and if she didn't—if all paige saw her as was a caregiver to madison—then catherine needed to reevaluate her feelings.

the brunette simply just cleared her throat softly, stepping back to lean against the dresser behind her. "that all?"

the blonde gently shook her head, soft eyes looking at the woman before her. "you're.. genuine."

catherine nodded, willing paige to keep going. to fulfill the need she was feeling. 'just say it' she begged internally.

"and smart. and caring." paige continued.

"that's it?" the woman asked one more time, though it came out more desperate and needy than whiny, her tone completely giving her away. paige playing hard to get was only further stressing out catherine.

paige quirked an eyebrow as her eyes shifted, something in them turning dark and catherine couldn't help but notice. her lips tugged into a small smirk, and her voice dropped an octave or two. "what do you want me to say?"

her voice was teasing, but not the way catherine was familiar with. no, something much more dangerous, intense and intimate. one that would send her home thinking about it for days and cursing herself for feeling so turned on by it.

and suddenly that need for paige—in her mind, her heart, and another place that need not be mentioned—was even closer to being satisfied.

the way she looked right now, the way she spoke, it was everything catherine had ever needed. she needed her. she wanted paige to stop playing. to just say how she felt. it was hypocritical because she herself couldn't even do it, but paige's hesitation only psyched her out more.

catherine took a deep breath, needing to steady her thoughts. they were going far too left, she needed to ground herself. but, man, was it hard. she sighed before she shook her head, "nothing.." she admitted, allowing their moment to die, turning back towards the dark colored dresser to finish up her snooping.

paige's face dropped at that, thinking they were finally about to get somewhere. that either of them were about to break, reveal the obvious. she then wondered why she herself hadn't made any moves yet. though she thought she was being the most obvious out of the two—and catherine only being obvious because she wasn't aware of how clearly she was showing her feelings—why couldn't she make herself tell catherine how she felt?

maybe she didn't want to mess anything up. catherine was consistent. something- someone in her life, in madison's life, that would always be there. and how she was with madison, their bond, it was like no other. a real, genuine connection that they shared that even paige herself couldn't wrap her head around. she couldn't possibly ruin that.

then again, what if something better came from this? paige had never even taken the time to think about settling down, though she knew she'd have to, and she'd want to one day, especially not so young and so fresh into her career. but, thoughts like these left her pondering. left her hoping.

"tell me." paige insisted, not willing to let this moment, their moment, vanish.

"paige.." the brunette trailed off, shaking her head lightly, turning on her heel to face the woman. she regretted the boldness she was feeling earlier and what it lead her to do. now, things felt more real. though it had all gone mostly unspoken, it was pretty clear. "you know i can't."

"why not?" paige pushed. this was the farthest they had ever gotten, and considering this was almost nothing, she had to keep trying. "c'mon, cat."

"it's not that easy." the woman spoke matter of factly, trying to hide how she felt with a plain face. paige could always see right through her, though.

"it can be." she stood from her spot on the bed, inching towards catherine. catherine's eyes followed paige, trailing up once she was fully standing, those few inches she had on her feeling a lot more powerful in this setting.

catherine's arms folded over her chest naturally, eyes still following the blonde coming closer, and closer. she was sure paige could hear her breath hitch in her chest, like she knew exactly what to expect.

in a swift, smooth motion, paige allowed her hand to creep up to catherine's face. slightly calloused fingers came up to hold her cheek, the blonde praying that her hands weren't still sweaty. thumb swiping against her cheekbone, she admired her face. that damn face that always made her melt. never leaving her mind, no matter what she did. her long fingers stretched across the woman's cheek, her hand sliding slightly upward, gently scratching against her scalp.

catherine's eyes shut instinctively at paige's touch, something about this new feeling already so comfortable, leaning into her. the woman sighed with a hum, one paige wanted to place as a soft moan vibrating in the back of her throat. she then let her arms drop from her chest, a gesture that was now symbolic, almost like how she was slowly letting her walls down.

"fuck, stop running from me." the woman pleaded, eyes soft, her tone hushed and raw, though it was meant to be endearing.

she didn't want catherine to disappear again. after their week apart, and the period when catherine was m.i.a. for a brief two weeks, it was the last thing she'd ever want. she couldn't handle catherine not being in her life, not even for a little bit. she wanted catherine around for everything, all the time, for the rest of her and madison's life.

catherine frowned. she couldn't see, her eyes still closed, but she could hear how emotional paige was just from those words. her tone, needy and affectionate, it made her knees weak.

"cat?" paige spoke gently. catherine's eyes, now doe, fluttered open, looking up at paige through her lashes. a small pout lied on her lips and she couldn't help but feel small, childish. paige was breaking down her walls, and fast, and she didn't know what to do.

their eyes met, and catherine knew paige was asking her a question through them. she wanted her to say something, anything.

but alas, catherine was running, after deliberately being asked not to.

"i don't know what to say." the brunette admitted, a frown playing on her plump lips. sad at how bad she was at not only accepting her feelings, but understanding them and being able to express them. catherine sighed, looking away from the blonde before her. "maybe we should call it a night. i'll sleep on the c—"

fortunately, catherine could never finish that statement.

paige's soft lips had met catherine's in a hushed and hurried manner, not wanting to hear the next excuse catherine was doing to ride with this time. not wanting to let her feelings for catherine go no where. not wanting to let their moment go.

the blonde had leaned down into the kiss, pulling catherine into her more and more, tilting her head up just slightly. her one hand rested comfortably between her cheek and the back of her head, while her free one opted to fall to her waist.

catherine's hands fell to paige's waist, still secured in the hoodie she had worn traveling back to storrs earlier that day. she wasn't sure if she wanted to smile into her or pull back.

the brunette was surprised to find herself kissing back in the first place, normally being the type to freeze up. the taste of the wine on her tongue and the chocolate milk on paige's creating an odd but addictive taste.

the kiss was enough to make her mind go mush, and almost completely forget about what she was about to say in the first place. however, it wasn't yet strong enough to keep her anxiety at bay.

pulling away almost frantically, catherine wondered. "fuck, what're you doing?" the woman asked, breathless.

the blonde just looked at her, a look in her eyes catherine has definitely never seen before, not willing to move her hands off of her.

"shutting you up." paige stated, matter of factly, just as out of breath, before she pulled catherine into her again.

authors note!

the things i'd do for some chocolate milk right now. anyways,

EEEEEEKKKKKKK!!!

finally, i've been dying for them to kiss for forever. it's about fucking time—now fuck😛 ugh honestly though i'm so excited, i just wanna write them for the rest of my life, im emotionally attached and invested LMAO

but, as per usually, tell me all of your thoughts! i know i always say this, but your comments are my favorite, and they give me so much motivation!!

thank you for reading! love yall!🩷

- mari 🫧

7.4k words.

[honkthehenry]

unnamed slime game - part 1

Masterlist

The way you suddenly snapped into awareness without realizing you drifted off at all was something akin to having a bucket of ice-cold water thrown into your face.

You... dozed off in class again. In hindsight, it was inevitable – the last time you got hours of sleep instead of something in-between nothing at all and a 2-hour-nap was last Saturday. You've been running on nothing but bitter, cheap coffee and sheer spite for almost a week now, it was high time you finally crashed.

Still, you should have woken up at Uni. You should have woken up to your professor huffing and puffing and glowering in your face about your terrible conduct, about how your generation had no respect for his generation, about how such a complicated and beautiful science like Robotics was not a place for slackers like you (which, fair, you had no idea what you were doing in Robotics either), not... alone and certaintly not in the middle of a forest.

You ran through a bunch of scenarios quickly, but none stuck.

Kidnapping? Far-fetched at best. You lived alone, only barely making ends meet by running yourself into the ground as you tried to marry working retail with being a full-time student, so ransom was out of the question and being kidnapped for the sake of doing bad things to you... Why bother? You didn't know anyone nearly well enough to be kidnapped due to personal feelings and you were neither good-looking enough (perpetually tired goblin that you were) nor famous-, connected- or skilled enough to be kidnapped randomly.

Besides, you were at the University, on the 5th floor, in the middle of the city that had no forests for miles! You were surrounded by 20-odd other people, there was no way someone would be able to kidnap you with so many witnesses around.

So, not kidnapping.

Dream then?

Also unlikely. Your dreams were few and far-between and when they did happen, it was either you being surrounded by characters from the show you happened to be fixated on at the time or it was you getting repeatedly chased and swallowed whole by a dinosaur on a loop, until the dream finally ended (probably Jurasic Park childhood trauma, now that you thought about it).

Still.

This was so weird, because you knew for a fact you were much too aware of everything to be dreaming and yet the things you saw didn't makes sense at all!

You didn't have any arms for one!

And your body was purple!

You could feel electricity zapping at your body and it didn't hurt, it was more like being swallowed in a blanket burrito and nursing a comforting mug of hot chocolate, while watching your favourite show with no worry for deadlines or money!

You weren't supposed to feel like that, you were supposed to be tired and grumpy and irritable and not nice and not toasty and certaintly not so comfortable!

Drugs? Hallucinations? You never partaked, you didn't drink alcohol either, so that was a no—

—A purple crystal you were under zapped at you again and you positively melted on the spot, basking in the feeling and letting the troublesome train of thought go like the wind, before it inevitably derailed and caused you undue anxiety as it always did.

...it was very nice actually.

Maybe losing opposable thumbs wasn't so bad if you got this in exchange.

You could live like this.

×•×•×•× Honk!!! Corner ווו×

You know that one post lurking on Tumblr where OP is turned into a frog by a witch as revenge? And just vibes? Basks in the sun without worrying about life? This is MC now.

I don't care how long or how short chapters are, they're just gonna vibe as they are because I am a goblin with a short attention span and no actual ability to write.

Something to get you thinking - MC is an electro slime for a reason and that reason is electro immunity.

I wonder why?

*smiling like a particularly smug cat*

Did I mention I can't draw lightning/electricity? Because I can't, so I didn't.

Also fvck me, my tags didn't saveeeeee 😭

[empress-simps]

Self-Destruct [Two]

Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Reader, Sirius Black x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Y/n Holstein tends to self-sabotage when something good happens, such as James Potter who came into her dark and dreary world like a ray of sunshine that she never knew she needed.

CW: Mentions of Blood Prejudice and implications of abuse.

Note: Hi everyone! Any thoughts on the previous chapter? This chapter is a bit short compared to the last one, that being said, hope you enjoy! (2.1k words)

The Wrong Sort

James ultimately decided that you were one of those snobby, posh, and entitled pureblooded kids.

The frown was still etched deep in his face as he saw you being dragged by a boy away from him, all the while shooting a warning glance to his direction.

James absolutely loathes people like you.

Although— he also concluded that you were absolutely breath taking; the good kind. Despite the somewhat permanent emotionless expression on your face, he definitely feels his cheeks heat up thinking of you. He really doesn’t know why.

Maybe he’s getting too worked up because he’s annoyed by your attitude?

Yeah, that’s probably why… It’s the only plausible idea that his eleven year-old mind could wrap around.

“James, darling! Something wrong?” Euphemia calls to her son, catching his attention and ultimately breaking the eye contact between both of you.

He shaked his head, trying to rid of thoughts that were filled with you.

“Nothing mum, a bit pre-occupied is all.”

He was sure you wouldn’t even interact with him again— Hogwarts has tons of students, right? Also, you might be an incoming student of Beauxbautons!

James Fleamont Potter has proven himself wrong when you’re sitting directly across him in one of the compartments of the Hogwarts Express.

He blinked, took off his glasses to rub it with the hem of his shirt then placed it on his face again, blinking multiple times to make sure he isn’t hallucinating. Merlin, were you haunting him? Maybe you are right— he needs to get his glasses adjusted.

Your sigh made it very much clear that you are certainly real and actually in front of him.

Since when did you get here? Why are you and the boy here?

“The other compartments are already full.” You simply told him, as if reading his exact thoughts before pulling out a book and making yourself busy.

He could only blink in response as Sirius looks at him. As if sizing him up. “Erm, may I help you?” He asked, unsure of what to make of Sirius who seemed to take on the role of being your personal protector.

“Sirius Black.” He holds out his hand to shake, James looks down and quickly shakes it back. His charming grin making its way to his face.

“James Potter. Pleasure to meet you.”

“ Potter? House of Potter? I would say the same, but you slammed into my wife a couple weeks earlier.”

James sputtered, eyes nearly bulging out.

Excuse me, what?

Surely Sirius is wrong, right? He can already feel the dismay entering his system and— wait, why would he even be disappointed? He even finds you annoying when you sassed him at Diagon Alley!

“W-wife?” He managed to choke out, eyes darting back and forth between you and Sirius— staring at the both of you incredulously.

You glared, slamming the book as you stared at Sirius before kicking him under the table, eliciting an ‘ow!’ from him. “We are not yet married, Sirius. Please refrain yourself from calling me your wife.”

“But we’re going to be!” He reasoned out childishly, looking like a kicked puppy.

“And we are currently not.” You grumbled, opening your book again and looking at the page you bookmarked before the bespectacled boy turned to you.

“I haven’t caught your name. I’m James Potter, you?”

You felt your eyebrow twitch in annoyance. This Potter boy surely loves to yap, huh?

All you want is some peace and to read without any interruptions, but it doesn’t seem like a viable option. “Y/n Holstein. Pureblood?” You shot him a question, an eyebrow raised expectantly.

James furrowed his brows, “Pureblood. What does blood status got to do with this?” You hummed in a somewhat approving tone before closing your book gently and crossing your arms over your chest as you stared at him. Noticing the Potter crest signet ring on his pointer finger, you concluded he is the heir of house Potter.

Hm, wouldn’t hurt to talk to him.

“It tells you everything about what a person is, Potter. Didn’t Lord Fleamont Potter and Lady Euphemia Potter ever tell you that?”

James blinks, surprise evident in his features. “How did you know my parents’ names?”

Sirius wasn’t all that surprised, he knew Walburga ensures that his studies are rigorous—drowning him with the history of their family, sacred twenty-eight, dueling, and the dark arts.

Ludwig Holstein took it up a notch, much more intense than his mother. He started training you and grooming to be the successor of the house and the Winzengamot seat ever since you were merely five years old.

You frowned, seriously? Was he never educated or was he living under a rock?

“It’s common knowledge to know the Lords and Ladies of a noble house, Potter. Tell me, were you off dilly dallying when your tutor taught you that?”

James can feel annoyance brewing in his chest yet again as he opens and closes his mouth, trying to come up with words.

You sighed, mock disappointment adorning your features. "My my, Potter. I suggest you brush up on your lessons before we reach Hogwarts? I think that would be fantastic."

You smiled at him politely before opening your book and ignoring how he stumbles over his words.

"Y/n, what house do you think you'll get sorted in to?"

Sirius asked, trying to mask the nervous edge in his tone with curiosity as you and fellow first year students line up in front waiting for Professor Mcgonagall call the names of each student one at a time to get sorted.

"Why Slytherin, of course." You replied coolly, an air of sureness surrounding you. He looks at you wearily, "What if... What if we don't get sorted in Slytherin?" Sirus voiced out his worries to you. His grey eyes glancing at the sorting hat warily, as if it’ll expose his darkest and deepest secret.

"You should never dream about not being in Slytherin, Sirius. You aren't foolish, you know what can happen." You uttered lowly, casting a glance at the boy beside you. Walburga and Orion will not be pleased with the heir of house Black being sorted into a house that isn't Slytherin. Certainly, Ludwig Holstein also doesn't welcome that idea.

"Y/n Holstein."

The chatting amongst students suddenly stilled, everyone's focus was directed towards you, the Holstein heir. Merlin, even Dumbledore himself was looking at you!

Normally, you are able to handle other people's gazes directed towards you, but as you walk towards the stool where the sorting hat waits for you, you can't help but feel the twinge of self-consciousness nibbing at you.

Holding yourself up with such elegance and grace, you sat down and felt the sorting hat placed on top of your head.

'Oh? What's this? Another Holstein?' The hat mused, you kept a straight face and looked ahead, not bothering to respond to its comments. It would be useless anyway; you already know which house the sorting hat will pick.

'Where shall I put you...? I have been longing to put a Holstein in Ravenclaw.' It hummed, you felt your stomach drop, cracks were forming on your composure the longer the hat doesn't announce your house.

'You'll do great in Ravenclaw, young Holstein.'

Merlin, no! You tried your best not to grit your teeth as you try to relax your shoulders.

'Do not even try to put me in that house, I am a Slytherin, through and through.' You thought, 'It will be a shame to the Holstein name. A stain.' you added, making the hat droop down, disappointed yet again. It seems that the Slytherin traits run deep in Holstein’s bloods.

Sensing the reaction, you were rather quite pleased with yourself knowing you had already won.

"Very well, SLYTHERIN!" The hat roared, not even a second had passed, loud and boisterous cheers were heard from the Slytherin table, quite uncharacteristic for them but who cares? The Holstein heir was in their house, it gave the Slytherin house more prestige and power.

You let a small smirk appear on your face as your fellow housemates welcomed you warmly and with open arms, if you say so yourself, they look like they're ready to kiss your arse.

"Narcissa, thank you." You smiled, reaching the table and nearing the girl as she saved two seats, you assumed one was for you and the other is for Sirius.

"Welcome to Slytherin, Y/n." Andromeda piped up, smiling at you. You returned her action and uttered out a 'thank you'.

"James Fleamont Potter."

Now that spiked your interest, your eyes observed him as he walked towards the stool in front as if he's just strolling through the gardens of their estate. He sat and not even five seconds in, the hat has already decided his house.

"Gryffindor!"

Cheers erupted from the respective table as they welcomed Potter with open arms. You hummed, "As I've guessed."

Narcissa turns to look at you with an eyebrow raised, "You know him?"

"Barely, he bumped into me in Diagon alley, and he shared a compartment with me and Sirius earlier." You replied, turning your attention yet again in front as Sirius' name was called.

"Sirius Orion Black."

Similarly to you, the chatter stilled and hushed whispers were heard all over the great hall. You noticed how Sirius' shoulder visibly tensed as he sat in the stool while waiting for the hat to announce Slytherin.

You placed some of his preferred dishes on the plate beside you, marking it as a seat saved for him. Narcissa and Andromeda noticed this which made them giggle. Ah, young love.

You raised a questioning brow to them, but they didn't bother to respond, just motioned you to pay attention to the sorting ceremony. You'll be sure to tell Sirius about his older cousin's antics as soon as he joins you in the Slytherin table.

Except he didn't.

He wasn’t placed in Slytherin like everyone expected.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat thundered; the raggedy thing looked proud— almost smug as it announced Sirius' house. You felt time stilled, your eyes and Sirius' grey ones connected for a split second. His eyes screamed at you.

Terrified.

Absolutely terrified.

Surely this must be a mistake?

The cheers beside your table fell to your deaf ears as your attention was solely focused on Sirius. You didn’t notice how the Black sisters wearily exchanged a glance as their eyes darted to their younger cousin who walks towards the Gryffindor table hesitantly.

The feeling of dread entered your system as you faced Sirius— tables and houses apart.

Sirius really felt like throwing up. His head was spinning. His thoughts are in a jumbled, flurry mess, heck— he was even surprised he didn’t stumble on his way over to the Gryffindor table.

The claps from his house can be compared as an annoying ringing in his ears, they all look quite unsure, but still clapped nonetheless. He really couldn’t blame them.

The black sheep of the family.

A lion in a snake’s den.

“Black!” He quickly scanned the table and saw James calling for him and patting the space next to him— at least he won’t worry where he’ll sit for dinner now.

Nearing the glasses-wearing boy, he saw two boys who roughly looked the same age as them converse with James.

One was littered with scars, both old and new. His arms were also noticeably covered in bandages even with the school robes concealing most of his injuries— poor thing.

The other boy, well— forgive Sirius but he reminds him of a rat. You know, if a rat becomes a person, it will look like the bloke sitting beside scar boy?

“What an unexpected surprise.” James grinned, Sirius fought the urge to scoff. This was hell for the Black heir.

Both you and Sirius are uncertain on what this exactly entails, nervousness festering in your stomachs as this was way off from what both of you pictured.

He should be sitting beside you, eating and conversing with his older cousins. Instead, you both were staring at each other, a gap that seems impossible to conquer creating distance between you both.

[softichill]

The Sounds of Nightmares unofficial transcript

Chapter 3 - The Theater of the Mind

(Once again made with @queen0fm0nsterz!!!)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

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

[Click]

[Otto sighs, shifting]

OTTO: Noone vanished last night. 

[Another sigh]

OTTO: As she slept, I was monitoring her ultradian sleep cycle. There was no REM/NREM oscillation; instead, involuntary spasms grew progressively worse. [shift] As I was about to wake Noone, her… body… evanesced. For a split instant- then returned, calm as can be. 

OTTO: [deep breath, loud exhale] Lacking sleep, I can’t be sure I wasn’t hallucinating. Yet the image of her sheets deflating… is imprinted upon my mind. [Sigh] After yesterday’s session, no less, when she claimed to hear this:

[Click, tape plays]

Recording of NOONE: “The faraway drifts near. Tread long, then, sink deep. Two flows from one, and here, is whole again.”

[Click, tape stops]

OTTO: A coincidence? [light clinking of ceramic/glass] Or, synchronicity? …(Scoff) Is that that bloody moth again?! 

[Loud smack, Otto sits back down] 

OTTO: Riddle piles upon riddle, and answers continue to elude. [Tape rewinding] I’ll sift through every word if I must. 

[Intro plays]

[Click]

[Loud clicking and clacking, electric humming, Otto screwing something in]

OTTO: [Humming drops, returns] It’s clear. Noone’s symptoms go beyond parasomnias. [Continuing to build] Her retellings are too detailed, vocabulary too advanced, as if derived from the oneiric itself. 

[Humming raises in pitch, clicking] 

OTTO: However, what I find impossible to believe is that Noone’s seen who you saw, Cici. [Chair creaks, clattering] If two people, without any contact, shared the exact same observation, is it proof of transpersonal dreaming?

[Otto’s building continues]

OTTO: But such implies concurrence! And these dreams are years apart! Then… no. [buzzing picks up] I cannot be taken to metaphysical backwaters. Sounding like my old professor. [building] I’ve remained balanced over the years by clinging to the notion that my recollection of what happened years ago was wrong. [click, humming gets loud again] But now, those memories are coming home to roost. 

[Clicks, electronic humming, building stops]

OTTO: [Shift] Before I began at the CPI I promised to finish this apparatus. I let it fall away, convinced that attempting it was fool’s work. Now struggling to put myself in her shoes, well. Fool me twice. 

[Humming gets louder, buzzes out completely as it shocks Otto and he lets out an “Oh!”]

[A small pained noise from Otto before he starts to put the apparatus away]

[Door opens]

OTTO: (Gasp) Noone! [Scoff, he walks away from the recorder] You’re meant to wait outside. 

NOONE: (Far away) What are you working on?-

[Audio cuts]

[Click, blank noise]

[Audio starts again]

OTTO: We’ve come to know each other better over the past weeks, haven’t we?

NOONE: Because we’re friends! That’s why. And, friends tell each other things. 

OTTO: Friends. That’s right. One of the absolutes I’ve come to realize is that, the more time you spend with someone, the harder it becomes to hide who you really are. The only exception to this rule is with the company of oneself- we willfully hide what we’d rather not face. Like, the Candleman you mentioned seeing, under hypnosis. 

NOONE: I don’t like that. 

OTTO: What?

NOONE: Hiding things from myself. 

OTTO: Nobody likes it. That’s why it’s important to reveal your inner face. “Depth analysis”, we call it. And so, I’d like you to think of this session as a dialogue with your unconscious mind- you are asking the questions, not me. 

NOONE: …Asking myself questions?

OTTO: I’ll help! But, as you go, I’d like you to try. So! This… Candleman. Did you see him again?

NOONE: I-I did. 

OTTO: And what was this meeting like?

NOONE: …He was much clearer. Not just him, everything about it. My nightmare. 

OTTO: Elaborate, please. Was it worse? More vivid?

NOONE: What’s it like- Uhm… as if I’m watching a film, that I’m also the star of. And when I woke… it was here, in the Coppy, that felt more like the dream. 

OTTO: Hm, more palpable. The Candleman-

NOONE: I can’t talk about him without the rest. …If this is an interview with myself, might I begin where I want?

OTTO: Of course! Let your imagination run. But don’t be afraid to interact with the dream. This is an important step in our process- the dialogue. Bring together the divided parts of yourself. 

NOONE: …The mirror. 

OTTO: Pardon?

NOONE: The one off your shelf. If I’m meant to speak to myself, well…

OTTO: [Pause] …Patients aren’t meant to have mirrors, but, here you are, my bright girl. 

[Otto gives her the mirror]

OTTO: Begin as you please. 

[Pause]

NOONE, Narrating: …In the dark… a hand let go of mine. 

[Slip noise, Dream!Noone gasps. Dream ambience begins.] 

NOONE: Opening my eyes, I lay on hot concrete, staring up at a sky with- no sun. And… before me was, endless grey, broken by- yellow lines of paint, all the way to the horizon!

NOONE: Standing, in that carpark, I heard a silence. So silent, my own heartbeat was a marching drum in comparison. …It was followed by… a loneliness, so lonely, I could hardly bear it. I had to turn away. 

[Dream!Noone walking on gravel]

NOONE: Behind me, I was glad to see a building! A shopping mall, so large I- I felt half my normal size. Its doors opened, [sliding gravel] and I ran to them. 

[running footsteps, transition from gravel to tile. Doors close behind Dream!Noone.]

NOONE: Inside the promenade, [lights click on] the lights flicked on, one by one, greeting me as the PA speakers came alive with music. 

[Tinny, slightly off-sounding mall music]

NOONE: It had been ages since I’d visited a shopping center. I didn’t know where to start!

OTTO: You saw no need to find an exit right away?

NOONE: I felt like I was in good hands. But many shops were closed, though. There were no doors, and… no displays in the windows. Or, there must have been a private entrance, because- I could see shadows beyond the glass. 

NOONE: …A-after passing by several shops this way, I grew disappointed, but that’s when… a cowboy’s voice came over the speaker. 

COWBOY, slightly overlapped with Noone: “Sale at Jujube’s Toys! Dolls, games, puzzles, and more! Ground floor by the fountain!”

NOONE: I could see that fountain in front of me! And on the other side, was… a bright green storefront, with bubbles floating out the entrance. 

[Dream!Noone walking over, doors hiss as they open. Different tinny music.]

NOONE: Shelves and- shelves of wonders lined the shop! The toys on the first shelf were very old, but… deeper shelves held the same toys I had back home, and deeper ones held exactly those I’d wish for, even Little Lotty Potty! But… these Lotties had black eyes, not blue. And their skin was… yellow, like autumn leaves. 

NOONE: The shop owner wasn’t present, so… I grabbed one and began playing on the carpet. 

[Dream!Noone humming Six’s Theme. Doll makes automated noises.]

NOONE: But, it didn’t take long for me to grow… bored. That was the first time I… I felt too old for dolls. 

OTTO: (distant-sounding) Maturity is natural as you approach adolescence. The brain loses interest in things once held dear. 

NOONE: The idea of growing up made me sad. And as if reacting… Lotty’s dress became wet. The doll was doing as its name said, but… [doll chattering] the liquid was- dark and thick. I put her down to find something else. But the choices were almost too many! Towering shelves extending deep in- the gloom of the impossibly long shop!

NOONE: I settled on the games section, but, most were meant for two. Suddenly, a staticky whisper said,

Voice, overlapping with NOONE: “I’ll play with you.”

NOONE: I-I thought it was the shopkeeper, but… nobody was around. My eyes fell upon a jewelry-making kit, with a red necklace on the cover. I took the box back to where I left Lotty, only… she was gone. The shelf above, where the other dolls had been, was completely empty too. I wanted to make the jewelry, I really did, but… I felt weird, so… I put it down. Then, the PA crackled, a woman’s voice this time:

Voice, ov. NOONE: “Jujube’s Toys is now closing.”

NOONE: [Lights clicking off] The lights shut off, bubbles stopped… and, the last thing I saw before exiting… [toy train noises] was the train set crashing to a stop. [quiet fake bell ringing, toy engine stops] 

[Dream!Noone walking out of the store]

NOONE: The promenade was empty, still. Each step [steps become echoey] echoed across the walls and floors, which were- pearl white, and had patterns like… veins. 

[steps and music continues]

NOONE: I came to three sets of stairs, side-by-side, leading to the next floor. I chose one, and, reaching to the top, I saw another open shop. Mademoiselle’s… (saying it wrong) bijottery. 

OTTO: (still distant) Bijouterie. But, regardless- you could read this?

NOONE: Yes. The letters were quite big. 

OTTO: …Have you been able to read in your dreams before?

NOONE: I’m not sure. That’s not a question I would ask myself, though, Otto. 

OTTO: Apologies. 

NOONE, Narrating: The glass case in the center of the room… pulled me in. Full of… gold, and silver necklaces. Hanging in the middle, was… an enchanting red pendant. And before you ask, yes, it was just like on the box at the toy store. T-The PA came on again,

Voice, ov. with NOONE: “A free gift to all little girls 10 and under!”

NOONE: Without asking, I put the necklace on, glowing, like a ruby teardrop. With my gift, I set to leave, but… someone must’ve left the speaker on because… I heard arguing. 

NOONE: (overlapping) “Don’t overdo it!” Said a first voice, followed by a second, (overlapping) “One more prize can’t hurt!”

[something being set down, wheels across tile, whoosh]

NOONE: From the back room, a rack of dresses rolled out. All, exactly my size.

[Dream!Noone looking through the dresses]

NOONE: It’d been ages since I’d been allowed to pick out my own dress. The telly people chose them for me. These ones were very pretty, with lace and, and bows and stitching but, one… it… it was the plaid dress I wore the day I arrived at the Coppy. How could my dress be here? [lowering pitch of voice, asking questions to herself] Your real life doesn’t have to mix into your dreams Noone, why now? 

OTTO, interrupting narration: (astonished) Pardon?

NOONE: (giggling) I’m asking myself questions. Well, the only explanation is that they could see inside my head.

OTTO: I’m not sure that’s logical.

NOONE: Let me finish! Please. You’ll see.

NOONE, narrating: Back out on the promenade, the shop gates began to slam shut. [Gates slamming] I was worried the mall was closing, but on the floor above, a set of spinning bright lights came on [Lights turn on]. The music stopped and, the PA crackled with a sing-songy voice, 

Voice, ov. with NOONE: [music] “Showtime’s patrons! Our daily motion picture will begin shortly. Hot popcorn’s popping and the seats await in the playhouse!” 

NOONE: [Lights shutting off] The rest of the mall went dark, making the lights more enticing to follow. 

[Dream!Noone walks across the mall]

NOONE: The lobby was- red from floor to ceiling. Buckets of popcorn overflowed on the concession stand. I grabbed one, and hurried to push open the huge golden doors leading into the theater.  

[Running steps, doors creak. Slightly off organ music plays.] 

NOONE: The velvet seats went for rows and rows, full of people. A spotlight hit the stage, illuminating an organ, but… there was no organ player. Only tall curtains swaying in some breeze. I tiptoed down the aisle, and sat centered with the screen. The chair seemed to hug me, and the room fell dark [crunching] as the first buttery bit hit my tongue. 

[Music stops playing, sounds of projector booting up]

NOONE: Without adverts or introduction, the film began. Images of… trees on fire and… white hooves galloping. I recognized the picture instantly because I’ve seen it a hundred times. “The Healing Horn”. [Movie plays] Only the scenes were out of order, and the unicorn… her horn was misshapen, like… a rotten tree branch. The evil prince’s face, too, was… was wrong. 

NOONE: Feeling out of place I – I looked around. The audience, I… I realized, was not people but… mannequins. 

NOONE: All of a sudden, a familiar scent entered the dream. Ocean. I was no longer alone. The dusty projector light made it difficult to suss, but a few seats over… was the Candleman. His eyes and mouth were… deep black pits inside a mess like a wet gunny sack, sagging down the floor. Without turning, he spoke. 

[Growing noise stops]

OTTO, interrupting abruptly: He – what?! [Shifting] What did he say? 

NOONE: [Sighing] It was like a – a voice underwater. The words could hardly escape the folds of skin. He repeated them to me. 

NOONE as the FERRYMAN, glitching: “The faraway drifts near. Tread long, then sink deep. Two flows from one, and here, is whole again.”

OTTO: And then? [shifting in the chair] What else? 

NOONE, as the FERRYMAN: “Here. Here. Here.”

NOONE: He just repeated over and over.

OTTO: There must be more! Try, try! Interact with the dream!

NOONE: There was no more!

OTTO: (raising his voice) Ask who he is, ask what he wants!

NOONE: (raising her voice) It doesn’t work that way!

OTTO: You were right there! Don’t tell me you did nothing?! Not a damn thing!

NOONE: Stop!

OTTO: [farther away] I’m beginning to doubt you’ve seen this Candleman! [Noone struggling] Perhaps you’ve invented the whole story! 

NOONE: Please, stop- my head!

[Otto hisses (gets hit?), sounds of something being knocked over, Noone runs out of the room.] 

[Otto huffs and stops the tape]

[Click. Blank noise. Another click]

[Various shifting noises. Silence. Door opens and someone walks, then closes it]

OTTO: [far away, stern] What are you doing? With the mirror. [Steps] You’re up to something, but we’ll let it slide. I know girls like you. 

[Shifting]

OTTO: You’re upset with me, aren’t you? [plastic clacking] Here. A pill for your headache. (Sigh) Earlier, that was… awfully…[Otto sits] that- that was not how friends act. Sleep has evaded me too. I’ve grown worried, trying to… please, forgive me. I’d very much like to hear the rest. I won’t interrupt, you have my word. 

[Silence.]

NOONE: … Fine. 

OTTO: So… you were in this theater with him. 

NOONE, narrating: … All kinds of pictured* flashed on the screen, and then he was gone, leaving me alone again. Or so I thought. The projector flickered in the booth. I dashed up, and found the door ajar. A new voice came over the PA, angry. “No patrons in the projection room!” The door was stuck, but I pushed and pushed. The PA boomed, 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “You must not enter!”

[Crashing, door opens]

NOONE: The projector I saw first was shaped like… a deformed eye. Then, my attention fell to… the mass on the floor. [Slimy sound] A brain? A heart? …No. It’s muscles pumped and pumped, and its tubes ran into the walls. The voice came, both from inside the room and over the PA: 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Happy day, No One.”

NOONE: It… it knew my real nickname. The ones kids at school scribbled all over my books. How? Because it was in my head. …I asked, “You’re the one who’s been talking? All those voices?”. Then, I saw countless film cans around the room, and understood. It was so alone, it took to imitating. Then it said, 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Are you going to leave? Like all the others?”

NOONE: I managed a… “Yes”. The thing began pulsing and, upset, it sort of cried out. 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “So many, they take what they want and go, or get snatched away or worse!” 

NOONE: It paused, then went on, 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Whatever you desire, it’s yours.”

NOONE: … But I didn’t want anything from it. The PA belted, 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “The pendant! You wanted that!”

NOONE: The pulsing worsened until another voice came within the first,

VOICE 2, ov. with NOONE: “You’ve driven another away!” [Not overlapping, repeating: “You’ve driven another away!]

NOONE: I felt bad for it. Or them… this place had been warped by pain, and wanted so badly to keep me. Even the walls began throbbing. What could I do?!

[Noise intensifies, Dream!Noone breathes heavily] 

NOONE: I – I ran. Down the stairs, out of the theater. 

[Dream!Noone runs away]

NOONE: On the promenade, the lights were flashing so as to be dizzying. The PA screeched, 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Everyone needs someone! Don’t leave me alone!”

NOONE: The walls began to cry that dark thick liquid, pooling around me, I looked up. From the floor above, the Candleman stared, pointing at my chest. At the pendant. I flung it down into the liquid, then he reached a hand toward me and – 

[All noise stops]

NOONE: And all faded, as the PA sobbed,

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Don’t take her! Not this one, too…” 

[Narration stops. Silence. Shifting]

OTTO: T-There was um… uh, e-excuse me, a curious phrase. “Warped by pain”. Is that how you feel, sometimes? 

[Silence]

OTTO: Noone? Are you still angry with me? Or… distracted by the mirror? 

NOONE: Behind my ear…  there’s… a sore. 

OTTO: Is that why you wanted the mirror all along?

NOONE: [Hum] It’s like the ones I used to get. I need to see it. 

[Shifting]

OTTO: Nothing’s there. It’s red because you’ve been picking at it. 

NOONE: …I have one more question for myself. Why do I have these dreams? Water sickness, that’s my answer. 

OTTO: Noone. It’s wiped out of your system. There have been no known reinfections. It’s in your mind. 

NOONE: (with increasing distress) What if the cure is the cause? I never had nightmares or headaches before all of this, before going on telly, before – before this! –

OTTO, interrupting: (whispering) No, no, come, come, come, come here, my girl. [Shifting, Otto hugs Noone] You’re not sick. You’re perfectly fine. You’re a perfectly wonderful little girl. This time I will protect you. 

[The mirror falls on the ground and breaks]

NOONE: I’m sorry! I’m sorry, uh, you were squeezing so tight and… it slipped. 

[The mirror shards are picked up. Otto throws them away] 

OTTO: You asked why you dream. The truth? Nobody knows. My studies always assumed they were more than the brain’s way of filtering unconscious thoughts. But I had no answer either. An old professor of mine thought he did. He believed dreams come from an ever shifting plane, a quiddity of consciousness. 

NOONE: Quidd-i-ty…

OTTO: Quiddity. The essence of a thing. In this case, a semiatangible plane outside the mind. 

NOONE: Is it the same as mutual dreams? I don’t understand.

OTTO: My colleagues didn’t either. I’ve flip-flopped over the years, but I figured it was impossible to prove.

NOONE: Will I ever get rid of them, then? Will I ever leave the Coppy?

OTTO: You must understand, you are a unique case. I want to let you go, as soon as – 

NOONE, interrupting: I’m better?

OTTO: (sighing) Yes. As soon as you’re better. [Otto stands, picks something up] Now – 

NOONE: I know, I know. (Lower pitch, mimicking Otto) “Sweets for my sweet”. …Do I have to go back to my room?

[Sounds of plates] 

OTTO: I’ve- got to tidy, [wrappers] and, you reminded me there’s something I need to find. On you go. I’ll come by later. 

[Shift, audio cuts]

[Audio starts]

[Otto looks through papers, and sighs] 

OTTO: Ah, I found it. The paper that stained my professor’s career. Kept it all these years, hoping and dreading there was truth in these words… 

OTTO, reading: “We know now that there is no center to the universe. Previously we thought it was the Sun, before that we thought it was the Earth. Our species always insists that ours is the quintessence of experience. Yet scientific observation proves our folly ad nauseum. If geocentrism took centuries to disprove, the question is not if but when the same will happen to reality itself. That which we are equipped to perceive may not be the only world. Let alone the predominant one.” 

[Click]

[Outro plays]

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

*This is what she actually says. I have no idea why.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Fourteen (Part 3)

The sand is damp and smooth, and our footsteps are the first to break the even surface. It clings to our shoes. Seagulls caw and the marram grass rustles in the dunes in tune with the nylon swish of Jude’s windbreaker jacket. His face, blank, doesn’t turn to me, but I look up at him and feel unsettled, remorseful, regretful, excluded, and the sunlight glints off one of his little silver earrings and blinds me for a second, as though to force my gaze away. 

“How is Jen doing?” I say, and my voice is small and almost drowned out by the rumbling of the sea, but he hears me. 

“Yeah, she’s doing okay. She hurts a lot, you know, the parts of her that are broken. She’ll be okay, although they’re not so sure about her hand. This piece of shrapnel cut through her wrist, you know, severed some tendons, and there’s a chance she won’t ever have full movement back.”

“Oh,” I say, my own wrist twinging with a phantom wound. “I didn’t know that, that’s really awful.”

“Yeah, I know. She’s strong, though, she’ll recover from this and she’s going to be alright.” He kicks a chunk of driftwood out of his path and buries his chin into the collar of his coat. “It was hard to see her. This week has been the first time in months, and God, she just seems so fragile.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. She seemed that way when I saw her last, she’s really shrunk in on herself like she’s trying to take up the minimum amount of space in the world.”

“Exactly.”

“Having the wrong kind of person in your life at the wrong time can be so dangerous when you’re already fragile, someone can come in and break you so easily that it’s scary.” I shudder and try my best to force away my own dark memories as they begin to creep and coil around my insides. “But what happened to her? What is it with Jen?”

“That makes her feel that she doesn’t deserve anything more than a person like Pamela?”

“Yeah.”

He sighs. “Jen has just never had it very easy, I suppose. Things at home were really fraught, I remember that when I moved here. We were never allowed to hang out at Jen’s place, because she said her parents were weird. It turns out that her mother was really controlling and her dad had a temper. They’d punish her for really small things really disproportionately. I don’t know, Evie, it was just a difficult environment, she was always walking on eggshells around them, and she felt like she didn’t have any control over her own life. 

“When we were fourteen she met a crowd from another school who weren’t all that great. The exact type of friends her parents would keel over if they knew about, but that’s exactly why Jen wanted to spend time with them. I hung out with them too, but only because she did, and I didn’t really want to be all on my own. 

“All we ever did was drink and hang out in parks, honestly. It was kind of boring to me, but I was just there because of her, like, I don’t know, I suppose I felt like I needed to keep watch of her, to make sure that she was okay because it was becoming kind of clear that she wasn’t all that interested in making sure for herself.

“They all used to be obsessed with being high all of the time. Not that they had actual drugs, just solvents. Lighter fluid, deodorant, petrol, sometimes, you know, choking themselves until they hallucinate…”

He’s saying all of this like it’s normal, and that I should know about it already, but I don’t. I nod along anyway despite my horror. 

“But pretty quickly they got their hands on the real stuff. Someone’s brother knew a guy, I think. Something like that. We started with weed, which was fine, but then one day one of the guys showed up to the park with a little bag of cocaine.”

“How old were you then?”

“Fifteen.”

“And you tried it?”

“Yeah, and I didn’t like it that much, because it made me paranoid, same as weed, really. Paranoid and a bit nauseated, so I stopped doing it too often after that, but Jen was the complete opposite. She liked it a lot.��There was something about that feeling of losing control of her body and being driven by something else that really did it for her, you know, she just liked losing herself in it. So really, from that point on that’s always how it was with her, always searching for an escape from her life, trying everything and anything those kids could find for her.”

“Fifteen.” I echo in disbelief. “You were both so young.”

“We were. Way too young. Two of those boys we used to know ended up in a psychiatric unit years later. I don’t hear about the others anymore, so I don’t know, but Jen has never quite gotten past it either.”

“Would you say she’s an addict?”

He makes a face like he can’t quite decide upon the answer. Perhaps my question is too simplistic. “I don’t really know what to call it.” He says eventually. “She goes through periods of heavy use, and then she comes back around again and doesn’t touch anything for months, it’s never consistent, it all depends so much on what’s happening with her, and whether her life is steady or not. Obviously, right now, it’s very much not. I think she’s had more and more difficulty in the last few years while I’ve been away.” A deep line forms between his brows. “I haven’t really been here to keep an eye on her.”

“Is that your responsibility?”

“Of course.” He says, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. But to me, it isn’t. It seems to me an incredibly heavy burden to bear.

“Her parents…?”

“They freaked out when they discovered she was a lesbian. They told her that she couldn’t identify that way as long as she lived under their roof, so she left. They don’t speak to her at all anymore, as far as they’re concerned they don’t have a daughter. I remember once we bumped into them in town and they completely blanked her and acted like they didn’t even see her. That was a really rough time. It didn’t work for my family to take her in, because Ivy was only six, so Michelle’s parents agreed. They’d been really close since they were children, so she lived with their family for three years.”

“Jesus.”

“Jen’s parents are horrible people. I don’t usually get so bothered about others to say that I hate them but… yeah, I hate her parents. They essentially destroyed her life. Well, they made a good stab. It feels like Pamela came along to finish the job.”

“I kind of get it, about Pamela,” I say, and he looks at me curiously. “You know, when you’re used to a certain pattern of treatment, returning to the familiar is the path of least resistance. Her parents treated her awfully, so she’ll default to someone like her, who can confirm all of those rotten things she already believes about herself.” It isn’t that cold, but I shiver anyway, and Jude bites down on his lip, frown deepening. “Yeah.” He says. “That makes sense. I just wish she could see what her friends can see.”

“You can tell her that she’s amazing all you like, she’s going to believe only the most negative things about herself.”

“Pamela locked her in a bathroom during an argument.” He tells me. “For four hours. Jen had to climb out of the window from the first floor. And that wasn’t enough to make her leave.”

I shrug. “You’d be amazed how bad it has to get.”

“Well I got Pamela’s number after that, and I called her up. This is what everyone keeps bringing up. I was just so mad. I just went off at her until she hung up on me, and then obviously she told Jen, which, I didn’t care about, I thought she’d be glad that I stood up for her, but I was wrong about that, she just cut me off and stopped speaking to me completely. That was like, a year ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I was confused… I mean, I am confused.”

I sigh. “I wish I could explain how complicated it is, but it’s so hard to.”

“She must know that Pamela is abusive.”

“Sure, but sometimes it’s just easier to put up with it than try to leave or to change something. It’s a strange thing, but I suppose it kind of makes a bit of sense when you’re in it.”

“I thought I was helping.” 

“It’s hard to help, really. You just have to hope that she eventually helps herself.” 

“I hate it.” He says. “I hate how powerless I’ve felt, just away in Berlin this whole time, unable to do anything, or even talk to her, or even know what’s happening.”

“I’m sorry that I kept things from you.” I say, and he replies “I know you are. I understand why you did. I shouldn’t have been so angry.” 

“You have every right to be angry with me.”

We look at each other, and his nostrils flare just a little, a hardened, defensive look coming over his face because we both know that we aren’t talking about Jen anymore. 

“I think I’d like a coffee.” He announces after a tense pause. We’ve reached the main entrance to the beach now, the part of it that was always too crowded with towels and parasols to find a place to sit during the summer, now empty, just like all of the benches and the bar stools in the surf shack just a hundred metres from where we stand. Jude points at it with his thumb. “Do you want one? Or a tea, or, I don’t know, an ice cream cone?”

“I’ll go,” I say, in the dim hope that if perhaps I pay for his coffee he’ll warm up to me again and stop looking at me like I’ve shot him in the heart. “Black americano, no milk no sugar?”

“Yes.”

And usually, I’d make some joke about that, but I don’t even try it this time. I leave him to sit on a sandy bench and I head over to stand at the window to order. 

“Hey,” I say to the shopkeeper’s back. “Could I just get two coffees? An americano and a flat white.”

“We don’t have things like flat whites, this is a small family establishment.” He says, and then he turns around and I’m met with a familiar pair of blue eyes. 

“Oh. Liam.” 

“Evie?”

“Yeah.”

He comes over to lean onto the counter in front of me, and I take him in, the adult version of the boy I used to know. His hair is longer now and pushed back from his face with a patterned headband, and he looks less boyish, less skinny, but his full face of freckles is the very same, as well as the deep tan on his face, which I’m certain is there all year round. He doesn’t look unhappy to see me, in fact, he looks intrigued. “I didn’t expect to see you here, of all people, of a Saturday morning in March.”

“I know, I never thought I’d come here again, honestly.”

“We frightened you away that badly the first time, did we?” 

I smile. “No, I just never thought there’d be a reason.”

“And you found one.” He grabs a paper cup from a stack and gets to work on the americano. “Can I do you a cappuccino instead, by the way?”

“That’s fine.” I watch him pour the coffee grounds into the portafilter and tamp it down. “I’m really just passing through, you know, after the storm, some of the houses down here have gotten damaged.”

“Yeah, that’s right. One over on the end of the peninsula has the roof gone off it.” 

“Oh, that’s not great.”

“Not great indeed.” He puts the first coffee down in front of me. “What are you up to these days anyway?”

“I’m in the middle of college. I’m studying illustration in NCAD, and at the moment I’m taking a year to do an internship in a print studio in Stoneybatter.”

“Ah art school! You were always creative. Or so they tell me. I never did see your drawings in the end.”

I laugh awkwardly. “Well, I suppose you didn’t. How about you? Are you in college too?”

“Well if I was I suppose I wouldn’t be here doing this, now, would I?” He smiles over his shoulder at me after he pours milk into a silver jug. “I went to Galway to study for a year, and I didn’t like it, so I dropped out, came home, and I’ve been working here with my dad ever since. It’s grand, I don’t mind it. Nice to be on the beach and surfing and all that, you know what I mean?” 

I nod. “Yeah for sure.” 

Dumping bubbly, frothy milk into my cup, he wonders “What house were you checking out anyway? Is it Kelly’s mobile or something?”

“No, it’s the Turner’s beach house.” 

When he places the cup in front of me, he peers over my shoulder and spots Jude sitting with his back to us, staring out over the sea, and Liam’s easy smile falters. “Oh right. You ended up going out with him in the end.”

“Oh. Well, no. It’s not like that.”

“Is it not?”

“No, we’ve just been friends for the last few years, there’s not been anything else going on really.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Ah, that makes more sense.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah.”

I clear my throat awkwardly. “Well, um, like, why is that, exactly?”

“Well like I didn’t ever think anything would actually happen there between ye. I’d have been surprised to hear that it had, is all.”

I stiffen. “Is that so?”

“Just from knowing him back in the day, I didn’t think he’d, you know, have gone for you, or whatever. Actually, I thought he’d have fancied your friend Claire instead.”

“Why, because she’s pretty?”

“Well she was very pretty, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah, she is.”

He sees the look on my face, laughs to himself and saunters back to the coffee machine to clean out the grounds. I feel my cheeks flush. “What’s so funny?”

“No, no, nothing.” 

“Explains why you’re chuckling away to yourself.”

He sighs. “I’m not, it’s nothing, Evie.”

“No, what?” I insist. 

“I’m not trying to start something here, I just could have predicted this, is all.”

“Predicted…?”

“That he’d still be, like, stringing you along after him after all this time. That’s what’s going on, isn’t it? It’s always what happens, it’s a classic situation, that’s all I was thinking.”

My pulse quickens. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, come on. It’s so obvious. Girls like you always go for guys like him, guys who like the attention so much, but look at ye now, it just goes to show that I was correct way back then when I thought it. He’s never going to give you what you want, he never was. I’m actually on your side, I just think I could have told you this four years ago and maybe saved you the hassle.”

I get it. He thinks that I’m pathetic. “I think you have some nerve saying that. We don’t fit into whatever categories you have in your head. ‘Girls like me, guys like him’. That doesn’t mean anything.” 

He turns around and shrugs, totally nonplussed. “If I’m wrong then what are you doing traipsing down to Wexford with him on an errand? Buying him coffees? It’s fine, Evie, I’m not trying to argue with you, I’m just stating a fact. Some things never change, is all I’m trying to get at. Nice to see that you’re still the same girl as ever.”

“What’s the coffee cost, please?”

“Five fifty.”

“Rip off.” I toss coins onto the counter, grab the cups and stalk away from him. 

When I slam the americano onto the bench next to Jude some of the liquid sloshes out onto the wood, and he awkwardly mops it up with the thin napkin I got from the shack. He asks me if I’m alright, and I fib and tell him I am. 

“Fair enough.” He says because he’s too upset with me to care that much. We walk all the way back to the beach house in silence, wet sand, whispering waves, and cool wind, stuck together, wishing we were miles apart again.

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[fandomworldofdreams]

Hospital For Souls

"I took you home. Set you on the glass. I pulled off your wings, then I laughed"

-Deftones

Previous: Prologue, CHP1, CHP2, CHP3, CHP4, CHP5, CHP6, CHP7, CHP8, CHP9, CHP10, CHP11, CHP12, CHP13

Warning: drugging, belting, perversion, hallucinations, slight noncon elements

Chapter XIV: Change

Valeria's mother had always warned her about being in touch with spirituality. So many people tried to exploit, deny, or misuse it. It could be a gift or a curse, depending on who you trusted with the information and how you used it. When she was young, she associated colors with people since emotions were a difficult topic for her to grasp as a child.

Auras had always been a way for Valeria to read people since she cut herself off energetically from others and usually saw the worst.

People were still far too complex, it wasn't as simple as one color. When she started to focus more there were different mixtures, shades, layers, shapes, and intensities.

This could all change in an instant based on an emotional switch. So, she observed closely. People's true colors showed with extremes. Scared, desperate, and angry was the trio she watched for.

The booze had begun to settle into her system. She felt her worries washing away. It was a nostalgic feeling, being able to succumb to her way of escaping once again. She supposed part of her irritation, other than being tortured, was not having access to liquor.

She didn't think she had seen Dr. Lecter and Dr. Crane in the same room together, other than when coming to see Emily. Though the energy they shared felt familiar. Their auras almost mimicked one another, making her nauseous. It reminded her of fire and air, the way the colors danced together, feeding off one another's energy.

"I take it your discussion went well?" Dr. Crane inquired from behind his desk, leaning back in the chair to better view them. She hummed, moving away from Dr. Lecter and over to the couch. She plopped down, crossing her legs on the cushion.

"It was nice to see my friend if that is your question." The bubbly feeling inside of her was hard to contain. This whole situation felt like one big comedy show. Or a puppet show, she wondered whose hand, metaphorically, was up her ass.

Hannibal chuckled, walking over and bending down in front of her.

"Are you going to be good for Jonathan?" His tone was soft as if she were a child.

Her eyes slid over to Dr. Crane who was watching with vehemence. She knew that look meant trouble.

"You can't extinguish a fire with alcohol," she mused.

She felt at peace being drunk. Like a blanket was wrapped around her to protect her from her surroundings. She had no fear of consequences for her actions. It was a rush of invincibility. She hoped the high would last long enough to endure whatever she was about to go through.

"Are you the fire or the alcohol?" Hannibal questioned, tilting his head with an odd twinkle in his eyes.

"I guess we'll have to see." Hannibal patted her thigh and stood to his feet, stepping over to Dr. Crane to whisper something. Crane nodded, eyes still glued on her.

Valeria looked away, focusing on the books on Dr. Crane's shelves.

All on fears and phobias.

Hannibal faced Valeria. "Valeria, I will be back shortly." She nodded, still not looking at him.

"Take your time," she waved him off, "I'm sure Dr. Crane and I have much to discuss."

She heard the opening and closing of the door, signaling his departure.

"What did you tell her?" Dr. Crane said apathetically, it seemed he had collected himself from his earlier outburst.

"We haven't had bonding time in over a week and that's how you greet me," Valeria pouted. "You insult me."

"Don't play coy with me, child." He began pacing around the room.

"I'm hardly playing coy. Just curious how quickly your demeanor falters at being threatened. You do detest having a lack of control." She smiled at him.

He stepped towards her, she saw his hand going for her neck.

"I told her you're an ass. But not that you're an insane, sadistic, ass. She knows nothing. Happy?" His hand stopped midair and returned to its place by his waist.

"Why do I have trouble believing you?"

"Because you have trust issues?"

Crane was the fire this time. She held the control and was fueling it. Though she feared for what would happen when it became unmanageable and consuming. She wanted more of it, the feeling of having some sort of power. Being able to get under his skin.

She was playing a dangerous game.

He chuckled and for a moment she thought she was going crazy. He was behind her now. She resisted the urge to look back at him.

"My, aren't you mouthy today? Here I thought the little stay in the room and secure wing would have beaten you down more. I'm not sure if I should feel impressed or vexed at this sudden display of behavior."

"Both, preferably. I am honestly surprised you had me confined for your crime and then didn't come to kill me. How is it that you thought so far ahead but got caught by a security camera? You run this place, don't you know where all that is? Why did you kill her anyways?"

He was circling her now, hand occasionally running along the couch to almost touch her or brush her hair. She showed no physical reaction.

"I don't plan on killing you, yet. You have a tolerance for fear, which is important for my work. But, I suppose we haven't had the chance to discuss what you saw during the exposure therapy, have we?" He ignored her other questions.

"It's been a week, if you truly gave a shit you wouldn't have waited so long to ask me," she said, eyes tracking his movements now.

"I had other things to deal with, such as the murder. You know, paperwork and such. Just because we have had a lapse of time apart does not mean the deal you struck with me doesn't still stand. Unless you've changed your mind?"

"No," she huffed, rolling her eyes. "Our deal is set. I just find it interesting that you expect me to be completely docile after you killed someone."

"What happened to her is separate from us. Now, as we agreed upon, answer me honestly. What did you see?"

"You locked me up for four days, I saw a lot."

"Then start from the beginning."

"It was all hallucinations. I saw a lot of shadows and death. Everything was dark and overwhelming. As I'm sure you know, I felt like I was fucking suffocating in that small space." She shot him a glare. "My chest felt tight and I kept hearing voices saying terrible things . . .There was one particular dream, or whatever you wanna call it. You were my collage professor and my family was still alive. But you told me that the toxin you use is a drug that you sell and that's what my brother was using."

"Fascinating," he hummed. "Your subconscious portrayed me in a rather detestable way."

"I don't think I need to justify why that is."

"I'm interested on why you put me in a professor role," he said to himself. She watched as he leaned against his desk.

"It's not rocket science," she scoffed, leaning her head back against the couch.

"No, I suppose it isn't. You see me as a authority figure that holds power over you. Yet, you also need my approval."

"Here I thought it's because you were a teacher and that's where we first crossed paths," Valeria said sarcastically.

"If you want to be so literal. There could also be an underlying attraction you have towards me. You do appear to have quite an aversion to being dominated, which leads me to believe it secretly arouses you. Since you always have to have control. Perhaps you daydream about me taking you on top of my desk."

Her head snapped to him. "What-?"

"It could be possible, but I doubt it happened," he rambled on, changing the topic.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I do have specific buyers of my drug. Usually they are unaware of it's effects. Have to keep the mystery. They, in turn have customers." She looked at him in shock.

She then shook her head, refusing to go there within her thoughts.

"Though, my toxin is more advanced than that. I doubt someone like your brother would have gotten his hands on it without me being aware."

"Arrogant coward," she murmured to herself.

He was suddenly behind her, fingers tangled in her hair to yank her head back. "What was that?"

She chuckled against the pain, hardly feeling it in her state of intoxication. "I said you are a fucking coward. Your toxin defines you. You have no business placing yourself on such a high pedestal."

His nostrils flared and he leaned down to her ear. "You have no idea how bad the toxin can get. You have yet to try it in its most potent form."

"What does that mean?"

"Pill and contact are not its most effective form. I've told you this before. Now, remove your shirt." He released her hair and strode over to his desk, rummaging through the drawers.

Valeria looked at him blankly, making no move to do as he ordered.

When he returned to her he had items in his hands. A band, a needle with some questionable-looking liquid in it, and an alcohol wipe. He placed them on the table giving her a pointed look.

"I won't ask again." She weighed her options in her mind.

"Why do you need my shirt off? I can just roll my sleeve up."

He gripped her face, squeezing her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger.

"You seem to be under the impression I need to give you a reason. Take your shirt off or I will gladly rip it off you." He pushed away, releasing her face.

She bit her tongue, reaching for the bottom of her shirt.

She bundled up the fabric in her hands before pulling it over her head and placing it next to her.

If she wasn't intoxicated she may have felt more embarrassment. At least the bra acted as a barrier, but she didn't miss the way his eyes wandered to her cleavage. Or the way his aura took on a new color.

She held out her arm, wrist facing up. "Let's get this shit over with."

He tied the band around her arm, wiping off the area with alcohol. He took the syringe in his hand and lined it up with the vein that popped out, pushing the needle through the skin.

She winced at the piercing feeling. Making sure all the liquid was injected, he took his time removing the needle. She gritted her teeth together, watching the bead of blood that formed from the spot, He placed a cotton ball on it, covering it with a bandage.

"Since when do you do things the responsible and sanitary way?" she asked. He gathered the items, returning them to his desk.

"When I want the patient to last as long as possible."

It was a couple minutes before she needed to stand. The icy feeling in her veins set her nerves on edge. The drug in her blood was now battling the alcohol.

When she got to her feet, her legs wobbled as she stumbled to the bookshelf, using it to keep her upright.

He observed her closely, hands clasped behind his back, casually walking closer. "Inhalation and injection is the most rapid way to pass the blood-brain barrier. After all, if you haven't pieced it together, my drug is anxiogenic. This form of administration has a far more rapid onset." His words were muffled in her mind.

"How do you feel?"

She laughed nervously, sweat forming on her forehead. "Just peachy, doc. Like I could run a fucking marathon."

She was spinning. Everything in her line of sight was shaking. She swallowed and leaned her head against the wood, savoring the cool feeling. She closed her eyes and tried breathing deeply to regain control.

"Fine, I'll be more specific. What do you feel?"

"Everything's spinning," her voice quivered.

"What do you see?" His voice was on the other side of the room. She hesitantly opened her eyes, looking around the room.

"Boo."

His voice was right in her ear. She was overcome with his presence, jumping and spinning to press her back against the shelf.

It had been her brothers voice. She looked around and realized she must have imagined it.

Dr. Crane was on the other side of the room. Her skin felt tingly and tight. She wanted to rip it off.

"I don't see anything."

"Your reaction says differently," he teased. "seeing ghosts already?"

"Fuck you," she whispered. A hand brushed her shoulder making her jump. Her eyes flickering around the room. He was next to her again.

Smack!

Her body reacted to the slap, falling to the floor from the sheer force of it.

"Do not speak to me that way." he said indifferently.

She nodded, cradling her warm cheek. How quickly her confidence and cockiness faded away.

His footsteps were a loud rumble that vibrated through her bones. She felt the impact on the floor through her hands and knees as she tried to push herself up.

A heavy weight landed on her back, pushing her flat. She groaned in pain as Crane put more of his weight on the foot that pressed against her spine.

"Now, what did you tell her, pet?" She hadn't seen him this calm. Whenever she didn't give him what he wanted, he would get irritated and lose his composure. It seemed this time he wanted to toy with her.

"I already told you! I told her nothing of your bullshit actions!" He stepped down harder and she coughed as her chest took the brunt of the weight, her ribs straining against the pressure.

"Well, isn't that a relief," he mocked. "You were right. It has been so long since you and I have had private time together. I don't want you to feel neglected."

"D-don't worry about me," Valeria coughed. "I'd prefer if you neglected me."

He chuckled and the pressure on her back was gone.

She laid there, cherishing the air she was inhaling without difficulty.

"Perhaps you'll see your brother again," Crane teased, circling her.

"I did see him last time," she said softly.

"You also saw plenty of shadows. Are you afraid of the dark?" She didn't answer.

"Come now, tell the good doctor," he said in a sickly-sweet voice.

She breathed in, pushing herself up onto her knees. But he was immediately behind her, hand wrapped around her throat.

"As much as I'd love to hear you scream and beg, I'm afraid these walls aren't soundproof." His fingers wrenched her jaw open and shoved in a ball. Her jaw snapped against how wide it was forced open. He tied the strap around her head.

The loops that connected the ball to the straps dug into the corners of her mouth painfully.

He firmly grasped her hair, tugging her head back. A muffled whimper escaped her.

His fingers felt like they were stabbing into her skull, slicing her brain with his nails.

"If you get another person involved in our situation it will be much worse for you next time. You will be begging for death by the time I'm finished with you. Now, it's time for your actual punishment. Not just for getting that bitch involved, but also for your impertinent behavior. Remove your bra."

The world stilled at his words, a lump formed in her throat. She felt the walls closing in.

She looked up at him with fearful eyes, not missing the smirk on his face. He released her and moved to sit on the couch, waiting patiently. His body relaxed, like he was waiting for a show.

She hated him more than anything or anyone.

She tried to speak, but the ball muffled any sounds, her tongue pressed against the plastic uncomfortably.

"You'll find out what the punishment is soon enough. Now, the bra, dear. Or perhaps Jane would be more equipped for this kind of punishment? Maybe even Emily?" His smug smile stretched until all she saw was fangs.

With a shaking body, she pushed herself to her feet keeping her back to him. She unclasped the bra and let the straps slip down her arms to the floor.

"Face me." Keeping her gaze to the floor, she slowly turned to him.

"Look at me." She hesitated. She missed the feeling of the liquor, wanting nothing more than to feel like she wasn't the size of an ant. Like she at least had some of her dignity.

He leered at her, curling his index finger as a signal for her to come closer. She obeyed, stopping when their knees brushed.

"On your knees."

Anything but that, please, no. The panic was causing her to hyperventilate. When she fell to her knees her kneecaps ached in pain.

There was something in her stomach fighting to free itself.

He surveyed her, letting her panic worsen. Relishing in her reaction to her fearful imagination. His hand reached out to brush her neck. She flinched back, making him chuckle.

"I must say, seeing you like this is very enticing. I almost regret my choice of punishment." His hand trailed to her collarbone, tracing small patterns.

The skin burned where he touched.

He moved quickly, grabbing her hair once again and forcing her body to twist so her back was against him.

He used the leverage of his hold on her head to throw her at the table.

Her face smacked into the middle of the wood. She thought she felt her skull shatter at the impact. She tried to push herself up, but he was on her again, forcing her wrists into cuffs to grip the edge of the table.

The cuffs were around the leg of the table to keep her wrists on the corner. Her upper body pressed against the table.

"You are going to take this punishment obediently. I have no tolerance for anymore or your rebellious nature."

'Are you going to be good for Jonathan?'

She nodded as best she could, her right cheek pressed against the table to see him out of her peripheral.

"I was going to stick with the toxin. But then I thought, if you are going to act like a child, I'm going to punish you like one."

She couldn't see him anymore, but she heard what sounded like a belt.

Fear didn't have enough time to sink in when it started.

The first hit took her by surprise and caused her whole body to tense and the area to sting in pain. The air was sucked from her lungs and tears welled in her eyes

Her teeth dug into the plastic gag, making her gums ache.

"Count with your fingers for each one. If you don't, I will start over." She stuck her pointer finger on her left hand out, while the rest still gripped the table's edge.

The next one she felt the buckle dig into her skin and screamed. The noise was subdued by the gag, but the pain radiated through her whole body.

She couldn't breathe, causing her to panic even more.

The pain the belt left in it's wake set her back on fire. The belt cut open areas on her flesh that would probably scar.

Her skin was being torn open.

His hits were getting faster and stronger. Rage built up in him and seemed to release itself through the object

She made the mistake of trying to focus on her fingers.

Her wrists were bleeding, bathing the table. Drops of it falling to the floor, hitting the ground with a loud bang She gazed at the way the muscles and tendons twitched, making her sick.

She looked away.

The belt melted into a whip in her mind, leaving her humiliated and terrified.

All the fingers on her left hand stuck out. Her right hand dug into the table, fingernails breaking as she tried her best not to move.

Her body was trembling at the trauma of it all, she felt blood drip down her back and was actually glad for the gag. She didn't want him to get the satisfaction of hearing her breaking.

The next hit was the buckle part, he seemed to be going back and forth between ends.

It hit her directly on spine, she gripped the table harder with both hands.

"What number was that?" She shakily moved her fingers to show six.

"Perhaps I should start over if your feeble mind is unable to keep up."

She sobbed, shaking her head vigorously. If her mouth wasn't gagged she would have pleaded til her throat was hoarse.

"I think I will. Begin at one again." More tears fell. She tried steadying her breath through her nose.

He brought down the belt. It smacked her shoulder blade cutting off any air. She wanted to escape, to simply disappear.

She kept count this time, watching as shadows surrounded them, pointing and laughing. They reached out to touch her.

Their fingernails were pointed, just like their teeth, eyes a glowing red. A loud ringing made her flinch.

The whip was now a snake, it's fangs punctured her skin, dragging down. She was sweating so bad it was getting hard to keep herself steady on the table.

Finally, her tenth finger went out. She released a deep breath, letting her body relax.

He crossed in front of her, removing the cuffs off her wrists. She quickly covered her chest with her hands.

He bent down in front of her. "Learn your place. Keep your silly friends out of my asylum. Or I will not hesitate to make you watch as I kill her. Have I made myself clear, my dear?"

She nodded and he smiled, reaching back to unclasp the gag. He pulled it out of her mouth making her jaw snap. It felt so sore.

"Good." They both stood and she reached for her bra, putting it back on. "One more thing."

She squeaked in surprise when he pushed her against the wall, grabbing her wrists in one hand, holding them above her head. Her back screamed in pain at the contact.

"No more of this backtalk or this facade of fearlessness. Next time you don't do something I tell you to do, it'll be more than you just stripping."

His other hand played with the edge of her bra, trailing his fingers over her bare stomach.

"You are not in charge here." She nodded, not saying a word. "Excellent, I'm so glad we could settle that. So now tell me, have you seen anything on the toxin?" He smiled like it was a humorous question.

She gazed into his bright blue eyes, a smile crossing her lips. She was fairly certain the man before her had no soul. He gazed at her with such a lack of remorse or emotions it almost made her laugh.

"Just pure evil."

There was a knock on the door. He released her, shooting her an annoyed look. Valeria rushed to pull her shirt on over her head.

"Come in!" He called. The door opened, Dr. Lecter walked in, observing them both.

"My apologies, have I interrupted something?"

"Nothing of importance. Just a friendly chat, isn't that right?" Dr. Crane looked over at her and she nodded, looking away.

"Well, it's been an eventful day. Valeria, I'll take you back to your cell." Dr. Lecter held out his arm and she walked quickly to him, not being able to leave fast enough.

"We will see each other soon, Valeria," Crane called.

She gripped Hannibal's arm and they were on their way. She kept glancing behind her, hearing whispering along with the suffocating feeling of being watched and followed.

"Are you alright, Valeria?"

She didn't respond, there was a creature of darkness in the corner of the hallway. It's long limbs contorted to resemble a spider. It's body arched and bright red eyes on her.

The lights flickered and it was gone.

She moved closer to Dr. Lecter, seeking any form of protection.

They reached her cell and she rushed to the bed, throwing the covers over her head to hide.

"Valeria, what is wrong?" The bed dipped as Dr. Lecter sat on it, reaching out a hand to rest on her arm.

She peaked her head out from the covers. The creature was on the ceiling, hiding in the shadows, antlers grew from its head.

"It's going to get me," she whispered frantically.

"What is?" He moved his hand to rub her back, making her hiss in pain. He pulled the blankets back.

"There is blood on your shirt. You've hurt yourself. Let me see." She sat up, facing the wall.

He lifted her shirt. "Tsk, tsk. This is very bad. How did you manage that?" She felt breath on her neck.

"I-I fell." That's what Crane would want her to say.

Something touched her back, trailing it's fingers along her scars. She was frozen in fear, unable to react.

"You have to be rather ungraceful to fall hard enough to hurt yourself this badly."

"Can we not talk about it anymore, please?"

"If that is what you wish." He pulled her shirt back down. "I will leave you to recover." He went to stand and she turned, grabbing his arm.

The thing was right behind him.

"Would you stay?" She heard how stupid she sounded but was too scared to care. "Just until I fall asleep."

He nodded, sitting back down.

She expected him to just sit there, but he laid down beside her, pulling her close so she would rest her head on his chest.

"Hannibal . . . I'm scared." The thing had disappeared. She scanned the room.

"I'm right here. Rest now." She released a shaky breath, looking up at his face.

His eyes were a blazing inferno. She quickly looked away, closing her eyes.

She fell asleep, allowing the monster to hold her close.

[3xm-draconic]

The Jester and The Courier: a wild wasteland love.

Chapter 2: Radioactive.

Myrtle got on her ranger gear, say for gear helmet and went down stairs. In the spare room handcuffed to the radiator was the crazy little red head dude, just…giggling to himself… 

“Any idea if the psycho is still in his system?” Gannon turned to Joshua, “no idea, psycho isn’t supposed to last that long…then again he might just be insane like Raul said” Joshua replied.

Myrtle approached the man and knelt down so she was eye-level with him, the man’s crazed grin fell from his face as soon as he saw her’s. It was no doubt due to the horrific scar across her left eye which was now completely cybernetic, that would scare the willies out of anybody.

…but…then he smiled again…

“You are something Cicero has never hallucinated before…a half-metal woman!” he gleefully giggled, “hmm, dilated pupils, erratic speech patterns, hallucinations…he may have severe mental trauma” she turned to the others “I think taking him to doc Usanagi for therapy might do him some good”.

“Where is Cicero? Why is he chained?...WHERE IS HIS JESTER’S CLOTHES!?” he squeaked and began to panic “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO POOR CICERO!?”, “ehey, ehey shhh, it’s ok buddy we didn’t do anything to you, we want to help you ok?” Myrtle hushed him “can you tell me what happened? Do you remember how you ended up naked and falling out of the sky?”

The red head…this Cicero guy…just looked at her weirdly and screamed “WHAT!?”, a water bottle was then flung at them “CAN HE STOP FUCKING SCREECHING!? I’am hungover and I’d like some peace and quiet!” Cass bellowed.

Myrtle turned to Ulysses “can you bring me some food and a bottle of water?”, “what for?”, “our friend here is so skinny he looks like he hasn't eaten a proper meal in weeks and I think the best way to get through to him is with kindness, not an interrogation” Myrtle replied.

Ulysses nodded and went into the kitchen to grab a plate of whatever Lily was making, “guys can I be alone with him?” Myrtle turned to Gannon and Graham, they nodded and left to go eat.

“so…Cicero, where are you from?”, the man hesitated “Cicero was from the Empire but he moved to Skyrim to be closer to his family”, “Empire? Sky-rim?” Myrtle pondered “I don’t know these places…they certainly ain't close to the Mojave or California” she mumbled. “Mo-ha-vee?...Cal-ee-forn-ya?...What are you talking about? What are those places?” Cicero wondered, “It’s where you are now bud, you are in Nevada, Southwestern Commonwealth of America, the Mojave desert, west of the NCR?” Myrtle pause “any of this dinging any bells up there?”

He stared at her blankly “no…but if Cicero is in a desert is it close to Hammerfell…the Alik’r?...or is it in Elsweyr?”, Myrtle blinked “no…you got me even more confused now”.

“What direction is this Sky-rim?”, “oh it is very, very far north” Cicero replied as he carefully observed the strange metal woman, her greenish-blue eye and metallic yellowish green one never wavering from his amber gaze, “north hmm? How far north? Like Uta or…?” she pondered, “U-ta?” Cicero wondered “Cicero has no idea about any of these places you say!” he snapped, he was getting agitated.

Myrtle sighed “look I’am sorry, I don’t mean to anger you I’am trying to help you find your way home” Myrtle said softly, Cicero calmed down a little as her words sounded ginuwine “ok…ok” he sighed.

Ulysses arrived with food: a plate of potato-bread toast, sunny side-up gecko eggs, brahmin sausages and cactus fruit jam.

She took the plate from him and sat it next to Cicero, “ok, I’am going to uncuff you and give you a fork…please…don’t stab me with it” she kindly asked him, Cicero had to hold back a pout…he wanted to stab someone…badly…

She got close enough to where Cicero could have easily jabbed it into her neck…but he needed to know more about just where in the void he was…and killing the only person wanting to help him would be like stabbing himself in the foot.

Cicero eyed the food on the plate…it…was weird…

“What is this?” he pondered as he poked at the strange eggs, “gecko eggs…have you never eaten one before?” Myrtle turned to him, Cicero cocked his head in confusion “nope…” he shrugged, “well their good eaten I say, I’ve had them plenty of times in my life” she shrugged and grinned “nothing is better in the morning like a cup of coffee and a plate of gecko eggs”.

“What's this coff-ee you speak of?” Cicero pondered, “it’s drink, it helps ya wake up in the morning, would you like a cup?”, Cicero thought about it for a moment “well when in the Empire do as the Impirals do” the thought to himself “yes, thank you” he nodded.

Myrtle left to get him some while Ulysses watched him, “so…Cicero…your name” Ulysses’s deep raspy voice rumbled “it sounds very…Legionary…” he mumbled.

Cicero eyed the strange man with a metal mouth “Cicero’s name is a perfectly normal Impiral’s name…what does it have to do with the military?”, “so your military is in league with Caesar?...oh dear…Myrtle was begging to like you…” he sighed.

That got Cicero on edge, what did he mean by that?...

“who…Who is this Ceasar you speak of?” he pondered, Ulysses cocked his head “don’t play dumb, he’s the leader…” he gave a small laugh “former…leader of the Legion”, Cicero looked even more confused.

“So…in this world there is no Tiber Septim?...no Empire?” Cicero’s head started to spin, if his very NATION didn’t exist here…then that would mean…

Myrtle came back with a cup of coffee “I made it with some brahmin milk and sweetened it with a little ant nectar, you look like somebody who wouldn’t like just straight black coffee…” Myrtle opened the door to see an alarming sight…

Ulysses knocked out and Cicero attempting to break out of his remaining handcuff using the fork but doing so badly that he was only hurting himself in the process.

“CHRIST ALMIGHTY!” Myrtle screamed as she set down the coffee on a dresser and ran over to Cicero, she smacked the fork out of his hand and restrained him “STOP, Stop, stop…what’s wrong?” she gazed into his panicked wild eyes, he was like a frightened animal.

Cicero headbutted her…but that only ended in him hurting himself…“don’t do that please…my skull is pure titanium and I doubt your old flesh and bone one can do much damage…now calm down before I make you calm down”.

“You won't take my soul daedra!” Cicero snarled at her and attempted to bite her, he managed to sink his teeth into her shoulder but then he felt a sharp pinch in his neck…then…he started to feel…relaxed.

“Ok, I’am gonna cuff you back to the radiator while you calm down ok buddy?” Myrtle said as she gently laid him back against the wall, thank GOD she had a needle of calm-x on her.

She checked on Ulysses who was waking up, “Hey S.Grant you ok pal?”, Ulysses groaned “little fucker…headbutted me…hard…ow”, Myrtle gave him a small pouch of healing powder “here go take a nap on the couch and heal up”.

“What of Crazy-Ass?” he grumbled, “calm-x, was gonna use it on myself to ease my jitters of hoover dam…but I think in the moment it was needed more on him” she sighed, “Myrt?” Ulysses looked at her with concern, “don’t” she glared at him “don’t worry about me and DON’T bring it up with the others…got it?”

He sighed  and they left the room.

[mostly-hannibal-memes]

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Never Conquered, Rarely Came by thisisthefamilybusiness Will is in an abusive relationship but can't see a way out - he's tried to leave before, but his partner is in law enforcement and always manages to track him down while pretending to be the understanding, forgiving, loving type. One day, Will stumbles across an ad in the Classifieds of the cleverly worded cannibal-seeking-fresh-meat-but-veiled-as-private-cooking-classes type, and decides to answer. Hannibal is pleased when his ad bears fruit, then surprised when his intended dinner apparently knows exactly what he's in for." Words: 3,242 Chapters: 2/2 Rating: Mature Warnings: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

And So I Raise Me Up From Sleep by bendingsignpost Will should call Hannibal and ask for the last time Hannibal saw him. Except that isn’t exactly a landmine Will’s ready to walk over just yet. No, he should call Alana, but nothing says I want to be your stable boyfriend like I’m either hallucinating or sleeping with someone else. Words: 10,941 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

we rise in the dying by euphrasie “Sexual assault was just something that happened to the victims I studied. It was never personal,” Will said, walking over to his makeshift evidence board. He touched the thin red string and followed the length of it; from his decision to stop off on the way home, to the sad box of a room he had woken up in, covered in the marks of men he couldn’t remember. “Sometimes I think maybe it didn’t happen, maybe I’m making this shit up.” It was a week before Hannibal’s trial when Will awoke from an attack he couldn't remember. Words: 63,374 Chapters: 9/9 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Even Through The Pouring Rain by Redlineriot Hannibal comes home after a late night at the office to find Will sitting on his porch in the rain. Words: 2,793 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Assiette by coffeeandcas When Will finds nothing but exhaustion in the world, Hannibal is there to provide all the comfort he needs - in all the ways he's never considered before. Words: 3,086 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

in a mirror, darkly by LadyMerlin “I wasn’t expecting you,” Will says, moving to the small kitchen that has become familiar to Hannibal. “I’m afraid I don’t have much in the house. Can I get you a coffee? Or perhaps, I could order a pizza?” Hannibal wrinkles his nose at the suggestion, and is almost surprised by Will’s ensuing laughter. It’s increasingly rare these days, and all the more endearing for it. “Yeah, I thought that’d be your reaction. Sorry, Doctor Lecter, I don’t have anything else to eat.” Oh, Hannibal thinks, the irony. Words: 2394 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Absolution by raiast When Will wakes up from a surprisingly unsettling dream, there's only one place he can go to ease the ache inside him. Or the one where Will stops being a dumbass and starts being honest with himself. Words: 1613 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

The House Call by orphan_account Answering this prompt on the kink meme: Will calls Hannibal in the middle of the night in a complete panic. Hannibal keeps him on the phone as he drives out to his house. Bonus for Hannibal still being in his pyjamas & is just wearing a coat over the top. Can be Will/Hannibal if you want. Words: 1820 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

[red-dye40]

it’s my fic’s birthday n i just want to take a mome to reflect on this past year of writing my cringe jthm fic because no joke it has been one of the most therapeutic and rewarding things ive ever done for myself so im gonna spill my guts under the cut here in case ur into that sorta thing

no joke i started writing ancillary auxiliary (obvs under a different much dumber name) when i was THIRTEEN. i was perpetually very very scared of and confused by my psychosis—i saw and heard things constantly that no one else did, and no one could explain that to me, which was obviously very isolating and frustrating. jthm made me feel rly normal (like not alone??) and this fic was a way for me to explore and dissect all these things i was processing and experiencing and repressing. i abandoned it like right away because i was a young teen with undiagnosed adhd but im sure it’s still kickin around on deviantart somewhere.

i have struggled w a lot through my years—addiction n subsequent withdrawal, hallucinating nonstop, uhhhh Being Trans In Society, willingly choosing to be an actor bc i am literally insane—and i felt like my brain was only getting sicker, because i never prioritized my health! none of it! but especially not my mental health!

in the isolation of quarantine a couple years ago i had like sooooooo many psychotic episodes, and eventually i admitted myself to a psych ward bc i was so scared and i just wanted to get better finally!

and i did get better! eventually!

it took a lot of hard work, and i was in outpatient for what felt like forever, and i was going to therapy twice a week and trying a bunch of meds and also just experimenting w hormones bc why not. i stopped making art (which truly truly was sometimes the only thing in my life that brought me joy) because the shit i was making was so scary, i just didn’t want to subject myself to that.

eventually i got myself a really amazing job, literally a dream job of mine, and things fell into place, and my job was my whole personality for a while. idk when it happened but sometime last summer i suddenly felt myself really wanting to read jthm again ?? i guess as i was reflecting on all my trauma, and how i used to cope w it as a kid?? but i reread director’s cut and it truly felt like someone unclogged a drain in my head and all this new inspiration and like LOVE for my past self and xir interests just rushed in and it was so exciting!!!!

and i remembered this fic i had started so long ago, and how proud i was of the concept, and i started writing it in my notes app and it got bigger and bigger and i found a little corner on instagram of ppl who liked it (thank u to those of u who are still here rn!!!!! if ur reading this ilysm) and now it’s this! and i love it!

it might just be super self indulgent at the end of the day idk but! i love everything that has come from this fic (and Other Fics i have written 👁️) and i am so grateful to all of u who have read ancaux and enjoyed it and reblogged and left comments like :) thank u so much

there are three (maybe four?) chapters left i literally didn’t anticipate this to go on for so long and i have no idea when it will end but im excited :) and i hope you’ll stick around :) the ending is rly good i think

LOVE U ALL THANKS

[tokiro07]

Martial Master Asumi ch.19 thoughts

[To the Window, To the Wall]

(Contents: Speculation)

As you may recall, I've mentioned the possibility that Nito would lose here several times, as this is the early segment of a sports manga where up-and-comings tend to lose on the basis that they have the safety net of second chances

What I didn't expect was for Kazuro to echo that exact sentiment, stating bluntly that this isn't Asumi's last chance and that for the sake of gaining experience, it might be for the best that he loses here when he's still an amateur

The moment I read that, though, was the moment that I was sure that Asumi is going to absolutely wreck shop. If Kazuro had said that as words of comfort after the fight, it would be a way to motivate growth going forward, but to say it as words of resignation during the fight? That's a clear sign that Kawada wants us to think that it's over, to think that there's no way out of this situation with how little experience Asumi has. After all, Kazuro is the one saying it, he must know what he's talking about, right?

Everyone is so sure that he's down for the count, but the real shocker was that the one person who believed in Asumi was his grandpa, who addressed him by name for the first time in the series! I'm not sure what caused him to realize that he wasn't looking at Kazuro, but for him to recognize Asumi specifically and note that his mannerisms have a specific meaning, I think that it might indicate that up to this point, Asumi hasn't been behaving the way that his grandpa is familiar with

We've always known that Asumi was a scaredy-cat, but we were only ever shown brief snippets of the past, so for all we know he's had a habit of breaking himself out of his moments of paralytic fear the entire time and his father's death resulted in him having more difficulty reaching that state

Of course, it's still possible that Asumi is going to lose, as it doesn't seem like Amagaki would have a second chance after this if Asumi wins and it seems really likely that he's going to continue being a part of this story, but it definitely won't be as one-sided as the first half of this chapter made it seem. If Asumi loses, he's going to make Amagaki work for it, and it might even come down to decision after a seemingly ambiguous finish. That said, Asumi's apparent hallucinations of his dad and grandpa definitely give the impression that Asumi is concussed, so the fight could end super suddenly with Asumi passing out right as he's about to land a finishing blow, leaving Amagaki with a sense of dissatisfaction that his qualifying fight was technically a loss

Buuut that's not the kind of thing I should be speculating about so early; if I'm wrong, I'll end up comparing the real story to my expectations, and if I'm right, then I basically already analyzed it!

I don't feel like I have much real analysis to do this week, sadly, but I think some of what we saw here will greatly inform next week's analysis. My biggest hope is that seeing this "inner" or "original" Asumi will show a completely unique fighting style that will entice more readers to give the series some love

[ghostslikemystories]

New writing project!! I’m calling it Bug and The Dead Boy

Tw for brief non graphic mention of s*icide

Here is chapter 1:

Hi. My name is Bug and last week some kid I went to school with killed himself, and now I think he’s haunting me.

Why me you ask?

I have no fucking idea.

I barely knew the guy but the day after he died they announced his death over the PA system and sure enough, about 75 minutes later when I entered the wild buffalo stampede that is the hallway between my history and physics classes, there he was. Standing completely still in the sea of sleep deprived children, staring right at me.

I have seen him every day since.

Usually in the hallways, but sometimes he’ll lean up against the wall in one of my classrooms or against some tree on the path from the school to my house. He just sort of stands there. He doesn’t always look at me. Sometimes it seems like he’s just taking it all in, just sort of hanging out and vibing I guess. He doesn’t seem angry or malicious, in fact, he doesn’t say a word. He keeps a neutral expression and his arms are almost always crossed over his chest, or he has his hands in his pockets.

Oh and he doesn’t speak.

It’s not like he was mute while he was alive, I mean from what I knew he seemed like a quiet kid sure, but I know he at least knew how to say “here” when the teachers were doing attendance.

Now, it’s not like I’ve ever been the model of a mentally well individual, but I feel like if I were the certain flavour of mentally ill that involved hallucinations (especially those of dead people I hardly knew), I would’ve noticed it before now, or there’d have at least been some signs that I was headed in this general direction.

I haven’t told anyone. For obvious reasons. I feel like I’d be more inclined to tell anyone if he was scarier. Like if he was giving me creepy looks or saying spooky shit to me but he isn’t. He honestly seems pretty chill, not like your more classic vengeful ghost haunting the halls of the school that presumably tormented him.

I’m still trying to figure out why me. I can’t recall ever having a full conversation and in the 3.5 years that we went to the same school we’d probably spoken about 5 times. Never anything more than asking to borrow a pencil or asking what the date was. Here is everything I knew about Milo Li Zhang

He slept in class a lot, or at least had his down on his desk fairly often.

He was pretty soft spoken, and had a slightly raspy voice.

He wore the same grey sweater almost every day

The only class i ever saw him voluntarily answer questions in was English (but to be fair we only had a few classes together)

I never saw him hang out with other people (but again, it’s not like saw the guy all that often)

And that’s it.

I know like five things about the guy so why the fuck can I see him and why does it seem like nobody else can.

Every time he appears I look around to see if anyone else is reacting but nobody ever is. Once I “accidentally” dropped my water bottle next to where he was standing so that it would make enough noise to cause at least a few people to look in his direction. Considering my water bottle is roughly the size of a military tank and made of metal, this was a considerable challenge for me to accomplish with any level of stealth, but it did insure that the noise would make at least half the class jump out of their skin. And yet with all that attention in Milo’s direction, nobody reacted to the ghost of their dead classmate standing before them.

So maybe some genetically acquired mental illness kicked in and I am indeed going crazy. I don’t like using that kind of language about other people but hey when you see an apparition of your dead classmate for a week straight, you’re inclined to forgo more empathetic language.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: Bug, have you tried talking to him? Fuck no! Milo has been ever so kind as to only appear to me when I’m surrounded by other people! And even when I do try to wait wherever he is long enough for other people to disappear, right before we’d be alone, I blink and he disappears! So my only option is to talk to him in silent classrooms or crowded hallways and I personally am not trying to get committed to a psych ward, because I know a few people who have been, and they’ve told me that it’s not very fun.

So I don’t know what to do, or what to think about this whole situation. I don’t know if I’m supposed to seek professional help or if he’s really there, and either way I kinda don’t mind that he’s there? I mean yes this whole situation is concerning no matter what the truth his but honestly? He’s not hurting me. He’s not freaking me out or trying to get me to burn down the school or anything so does it matter?

Maybe if he starts standing over me in my sleep I’ll get some help.

Maybe not.

[jadequeen88]

Watchin' You

Summary:

He walked around the corner of the building that housed the showers when he saw them. Eddie knew that was your canvas bag, the very one he saw you pull out of the floorboard of his van when you got out. There was no mistaking that the black, lace boy shorts lying on top of your other clothes were yours. It looked like you’d stepped out of them and laid them right on the bag. That could only mean one thing… “Oh, fuck me sideways…” You’d been wearing these. You sat in Eddie’s van wearing these exact panties.

Notes:

I had a mighty need for more Virgin Eddie content that resulted in this monstrosity of a one-shot... that will have a part two! Let me know what y'all think of my characterization of our boy in the comments!

TWs: Virgin Eddie Munson, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Eddie Munson Has ADHD, Vaginal Fingering, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss, First Time Blow Jobs, Panty Kink, Eddie Munson is a panty thief, Panty thief

“Hey.”

Eddie looks around his locker door to ensure he’s not hallucinating, that an actual, real-life girl is speaking to him.

“Y-yeah? Me?” goddammit, of course, his voice would choose to crack now.

“Yeah, you.”

Oh god, you’re pretty. Like, music-video-vixen level pretty. It’s terrifying.

“Um, what is it?”

“Smooth moves, jackass. Now you sound like a dick,” he thinks.

You bite your bottom lip, looking slightly amused. Ah, shit. You’re about to laugh in his face, aren't you?

“We’re twins,” you say, holding out the bottom of your t-shirt. Sure as shit, you are in matching Iron Maiden shirts. Eddie nearly faints. However, what he actually does could be considered worse than fainting in front of his dream girl.

“Oh,” he squeaks out, slamming his locker door and turning to walk away quickly.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! What the fuck was that?! his brain screams. The first time a girl speaks to him without ill intent, a girl who likes his favorite band no less, and he runs away like a bitch. Perfect.

That was the only interaction between you and the awkward metalhead in high school, but it was enough to make a lasting impression

.

After that day, Eddie soaked up any and all information about you that he could. He knew you had just transferred from Indianapolis and that you played the French Horn. You must be good because he discovered that you were first chair and section leader. Eddie knew that you liked to skip your third-period gym class to smoke. You often joked with your friends about how your days playing your instrument were numbered due to the bad habit (he may or may not also skip that period just to sit on the other side of the tall brick wall to hear your voice, not creepy at all, shut up).

He knew that you used expensive Italian perfume to cover the smell of cigarette smoke; something that in Eddie’s mind smelled like sophistication and raw sex appeal, but according to what you told Buckley, actually smelled like bergamot, sandalwood, and patchouli. He also knew you used cherry chapstick instead of lipstick in neon shades as other girls did. You didn’t wear much make-up, mainly eyeliner which made your eyes darker and more mysterious.

He knew that you mostly stuck to your group of band kids. There was this one time, however, when you saw Carol Perkins trip one of the chess team kids in the cafeteria. You gave her a black eye in front of the entire school and got suspended for a week. It was the most metal thing Eddie had ever seen.

He could write a novel about you. He could fill chapters describing how your hair caught the sunlight or how you twirled your rings around your fingers when you were concentrating on a test. He could write sonnets about your chipped, black nail polish and scuffed Docs. He could write dissertations about the intricacies of your music tastes and how closely they align with his tastes based on the bits of band merch you owned and how you chose to wear them.

But Eddie couldn’t fucking speak to you.

He considered it almost daily. But he’d always end up nauseous at the very thought of trying to approach you. So he never did, and you walked that stage in May of 1983 never to set foot in the halls of Hawkins High again. You got your diploma, went back to Indianapolis for college, and left Eddie behind to rot in the dusty trailer park he called home.

If you’d told Eddie then that a few years later, he’d be trauma bonded with Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, and “King Steve” Harrington after fighting interdimensional monsters and saving the world, he’d have laughed in your face. But here he is, freshly graduated (finally), surrounded by friends, and sporting some gnarly scars to prove it all happened.

He was out by Steve’s pool (one of the perks of having a rich friend) watching the sunset and sharing stories with his friend over a beer. The crunch of gravel on the driveway drew their attention to the front of the house as they were standing to compare demobat scars.

“Buckley and Wheeler?” Eddie asked. Steve nodded.

“Yeah, and Robin’s other friend. Just graduated college. I don’t really know her that well, but she spent her senior year in Hawkins. She was a band kid or something, I think. Played the same instrument as Robin,” Steve waves his hands in a vague gesture trying to think of what the instrument in question was again. “That… big, curly trumpet.”

Eddie swallowed hard. “French horn…” he whispered, and Steve snapped his fingers in frustration that he’d forgotten the name of his best friend’s instrument.

There’s no way, it couldn’t be…

He didn’t have time to do more than grip the glass bottle in his hand and stare towards the side of the house where their friends’ voices echoed. He felt too exposed shirtless, so he bolted to grab his cropped Metallica tee and hurriedly threw it over his head.

“The fuck is your problem, man?” Steve asked, weirded out at his easy-going friend’s sudden burst of anxiety.

“Just,” he waved his hands around in frustration, trying to formulate a proper response. “The scars. They’re kinda gnarly, ya know?”

Steve scoffed. “Pretty sure it was Nance and me who kept you from bleeding out, and Robin has seen more of us than either of us are comfortable with, so what-”

Eddie shifted on his feet uncomfortably, arms crossed over his chest and eyes on the ground. Steve bent forward to meet his gaze, hands on his narrow hips and sporting a shit-eating grin.

“Oh shit, is it the band girl? Do you know her?” Steve walked towards him, speaking in a hushed tone, eyes brimming with mischief. The thought of Eddie “cold, cynical heart” Munson having a schoolboy crush was sending him over the moon with glee.

“Fuck off, Harrington,” Eddie hissed in Steve’s face right before you and the rest of the group rounded the corner of the house.

“Holy hell,” Steve murmured low enough for only Eddie to hear, “Didn’t know band nerds could look like that.”

Eddie was so enchanted by your sudden appearance that he almost missed the salacious tone of Steve’s voice. Almost.

“I will end you, Harrington. I swear to God, if you-”

“Jesus man, cool it. I won’t step on any toes,” he raised his hands in surrender, and Eddie’s glare softened marginally. “I’m only noticing what anyone who isn’t blind would.”

Eddie took a moment to look at you properly. You hadn’t noticed him yet, so he used the opportunity to drink in your form. He felt like a man wandering the desert deprived of water, finally making it to the bank of a river. Sure, he pined after you for an embarrassingly long time after you left Hawkins, and he never really forgot about you. There were other crushes and even a couple of make-out sessions, but they were never you. Seeing you now in that flowing, white swimsuit cover, skin glistening with sun tan oil, and that blinding smile spread across your face, Eddie felt like that sixteen-year-old loser who ran from you in the halls at school.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie grumbled under his breath so only Steve could hear. “If you try anything, I’ll make sure you do end up blind.” He schooled his features to look unfazed the closer you got.

“Jesus,” Steve wheezed, still a little shocked at Eddie’s rare burst of aggression. The last time he saw him this worked up he was holding a broken beer bottle to his neck in Reefer Rick’s boat shed. “Got it, chief. No funny business outta me.”

Eddie was so fucked. Not only was he trying to deal with being in your presence again without making an ass of himself, but his friends were also onto him. It’s almost like fighting monsters and nearly dying in a hell-dimension together made you all very perceptive of behavioral shifts. Who knew? It’s nice for Eddie to have a group of friends who finally get him, but hella inconvenient when he’s trying to hide the fact that he has a crush on the new addition to the group.

Steve, naturally, noticed first. Seeing Eddie get all “aggro” right off the bat killed any chances of him playing it cool. So his gaze followed him throughout the night, observing how Eddie would interact with you.

Steve’s attention then spurred Robin's attention. And when she has her sights honed in on a situation, it’s like a Great White sensing a drop of blood in the water.

The “Scoop Troop Wonder Twins” gawking at him (they were not being subtle at all, by the way) caught the attention of “super-sleuth” Nancy Wheeler. That led to the three of them huddled in a mass, whispering together on the opposite edge of the pool.

The only radars that Eddie was managing to fly under were Jonathan and Argyle’s. That’s not hard to do since they were balls-high on Purple Palm Tree Delight as soon as they sat in the metal deck chairs on Steve’s patio.

Then there you were, partaking in the rotation with the two stoners, a spot Eddie usually occupied. With your feet propped in an empty chair, he could hear you talking passionately about music with the other two. When he looked up as he heard you call out to him, Eddie knew his face had to give away how shocked he was.

“Hey! It’s Eddie, right?” You moved your feet out of the empty chair and motioned him over. “I remember you being a man of taste. Come over here and back me up on this.”

Eddie would readily agree to anything you asked of him. He’d fight to the death over it now.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he scratched his head a little and walked over to sit.

You promptly handed him the tightly rolled joint, smoke curling out of your nostrils like some sort of sexy wyvern, eyes half-lidded and just a little red. Oh god, he’s so terribly in love.

“I’m going to give you two options to choose from. No right or wrong, no pressure. But be warned,” then your lips curled in a mischievous smirk. He was reminded again of a dragon offering a riddle to a poor mortal that stumbled upon her hoard, the answer granting safe passage or untimely demise. “I will remember how you answer, and I will definitely judge you for it.”

Eddie almost choked on the smoke he’d inhaled like he was fourteen again and smoking for the first time behind his uncle’s trailer. “Wow, yeah. No pressure at all. Okay, hit me,” he responded, trying to appear calm as he passed the joint to Argyle.

“Black Sabbath with Ozzy? Or Black Sabbath with Dio? You’ve got thirty seconds,” you grinned evilly, swinging one leg over the other and leveling your dark gaze at him.

“Oh shit, man. Uh,” Eddie was losing it. He didn’t expect such a difficult decision. Choosing between his two favorite metal vocalists? Pure torture. But he’s a professional metalhead, after all. He’s put thought into this very question. “Ozzy Sabbath is iconic, of course. But Heaven and Hell is hands down one of the best albums ever written.”

You clapped once loudly and then pointed at Jonathan cackling. “What did I say?! One of Sabbath’s best albums ever made was with Dio fronting!”

The shaggy-haired stoner groaned and rolled his eyes. You looked over at Eddie, biting back a wide grin. “Jonathan said Sabbath wasn’t really Sabbath anymore once Ozzy left and that no one would agree with me when I defended Heaven and Hell!”

“Wait, you listen to Sabbath, Byers?” Eddie questioned, brows raised. He never took the gangly pothead as someone who would listen to metal.

“I listen to a little of everything, I guess,” he mumbled, passing the joint back to you to start another rotation.

You leaned your head back to gaze at the stars that just started to appear in the sky as you blew the fragrant smoke from your lips. “You passed my test. Congrats,” you extended your arm to Eddie, looking at him softly. Your fingers brushed as you handed over the roach, the joint almost gone by now. “I won’t judge you so harshly now.”

Maybe it was the high setting in, but Eddie swore he saw you throw a little wink his way. There was no stopping the goofy little grin taking over his face as he took the last hit off the joint and relaxed into his chair.

Eddie wasn’t ever, nor ever would be religious, but there is one quote he’s often heard that has stuck in his brain:

“The Lord gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers.”

It only confirms there is no Christian god in his mind. He’s been thrown into the toughest battles of his life constantly over the past few weeks, and if there is one thing Eddie knows for sure, it’s the fact that he is no one’s strongest soldier.

Today’s challenge took the form of a slip of black lace peeking out of the top of your duffle bag.

This most recent dilemma was the result of Eddie agreeing to something he’d always avoided until now…

Fucking camping

Eddie hated the outdoors and hated being forced to spend more time than necessary roaming them. (Uncle Wayne always blamed it on having a dad who only ever taught him how to commit crimes and never took him camping as a small child, but who knows?). As soon as you consented to the idea, Eddie was totally on board with going along. Steve started to give him shit for agreeing so quickly to something he knew his friend hated until Eddie leveled him with a glare so toxic it could melt the paint off the walls.

By this point, he was pretty sure everyone besides you knew about his crush (and probably Argyle, but that guy was constantly operating on another wavelength). Even Nancy started giving him knowing looks behind her permed bangs when he’d laugh just a tad bit too loud at your jokes. Eddie nearly threw Steve out of his passenger's seat when you asked to hitch a ride with him out to Lover’s Lake campground.

“What the fuck, man! I can just get in the back-”

“Nope. No. Fuck off, Harrington. Take your own car this time.”

“But I just washed-,”

“Don’t care…”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!”

Steve relented, making up a random excuse for taking his car. Robin happily jumped into the passenger seat of his little Mercedes and took over his radio. Eddie just grinned and threw a middle finger at his friend, who glared at him over the top of his car before getting inside.

“Thank god I’m riding with you! I don’t think I could suffer through any more of Argyle’s stoner tunes.” you hopped into Eddie’s van wearing a cropped Mercyful Fate tee and tiny denim cut-offs. So much exposed skin with no warning was doing terrible things for Eddie’s poor, inexperienced (dick) heart. “I love the guy, don’t get me wrong, I just needed to bond with a fellow metalhead today.”

Eddie cleared his throat and smiled, starting the car. He’s grateful he has the excuse of watching the road to keep his eyes (mostly) turned away from your exposed thighs. “Of course. Anytime.”

If Eddie weren’t so hopeless, he’d make some quip about all the fun ways the two of you could ‘bond’, but how could he flirt with you when looking at your legs had him getting hard like some fifteen-year-old? He was so hopeless.

“You can put in anything you’d like,” he gestured to the shoebox that held his cassette collection at your feet. “Most of my shit is at home, but I keep a decent variety here.”

He heard little ‘oohs’ and ‘ahh’s’ as you shuffled through the box. Eddie couldn’t help but feel a little proud that you approved of his musical selection. You yelled an enthusiastic “You’re fuckin’ kidding me!” and popped a tape into the radio before he could ask what you’d found.

“Where did you find this?! I’ve looked for months!”

Eddie started sweating when he heard the opening riff to the raunchiest goddamn song. It was his prized possession, one he only got his hands on because of friends in high places, W.A.S.P.’s “Animal” cassette.

“Umm,” Eddie’s brain short-circuited as you began to move to the beat of the music, throwing your head back and grinning at him wildly. “I’m pretty good buddies with a guy that owns a record store up in Indianapolis. Asked him to keep an eye out for me. I only got it a couple of weeks ago.”

“God, I’ve been dying to hear it again after hearing it live last March.”

Eddie’s nerves were quickly replaced with excitement. “Wait, live, you say?!”

“Yup,” you pop the p proudly and rest your feet on the dash. “I’ve got a cousin down in Dallas, which sucks, by the way. I don’t recommend ever going to Texas. Anyway, we saw them open for Iron Maiden. I’m telling you, it was a religious experience.”

Eddie slapped his hands on the steering wheel and a short, disbelieving laugh escaped his throat. “That’s insane! Holy shit, man!”

“I know,” you hummed. He felt you look over at him. “Have you gotten to see either of them live yet?”

“Nah,” he sighed. “Not yet. But one day! I’m already saving up.”

“We’ll go together,” you said it so casually, you acted as if it made perfect sense for you guys to go to a concert together. “We can split costs.” Eddie’s heart jumped up to his throat, and before he could form a coherent response, he saw you looking in the back of his van. He suddenly worried about what filth might be lurking back there. “We could even bunk up here and save on a hotel!”

Eddie stuttered and scratched his neck nervously. You must have taken it as rejection because you looked embarrassed as you sat back down and started fidgeting with your hair.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, Eddie. I do this thing all the time.” You waved your hands around in front of your face when you said ‘thing’, trying to find the words to express how you felt. “There aren’t many people I can talk about music with, you know? So I get all worked up and excited when someone else seems interested in the bands I love, and I assume we’re best friends.” You let out a self-deprecating chuckle, looking out the passenger side window. “I know it’s off-putting.”

Eddie couldn’t have that. He shook his head so hard that his hair slapped across his face. “Nope, uh-uh. Cut that out.” He glanced over to make sure your attention was on him. “That was like…” he sighed. How could he reassure you without outing himself as being obsessed with you?

“It was so far from off-putting. You have no idea.” Eddie swallowed hard and noticed you looked a little confused. He gathered the meager bits of courage he possessed and continued. “I’m just not used to…” he paused. He can’t say ‘Sorry, I’m not used to my walking, wet dream asking to road-trip with me to go to a metal show, so I don’t know how to function right now.’ so he took a moment to choose his words carefully.

“I’m just not used to other people being as excited as I am about my music, either. So I was just… surprised. But in a good way!” He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and added under his breath. “In a great fuckin’ way, actually.”

Eddie watched you visibly relax. “Oh, thank god,” You chuckled. “I know I can be too much sometimes. I think the reason why one of the only people I’ve stayed friends with is Robin. She’s one of the only people that’s never judged me for it. Robin and I are kinda cut from the same cloth, I guess. Kindred spirits, if you will.”

It warmed his heart to see you smile when talking about the freckled girl that also wormed her way into his heart.

“Buckley’s a good one. She uh,” Eddie’s throat tightened as painful memories flashed across his mind. Tears and mud streaked across Robin's face, screaming something he didn’t understand…Her body quaking under his as she helped drag him along dank, dark earth… her sniffling and talking to him quietly as she bandaged his mauled sides, offering soft words of comfort and handling Eddie as carefully as if he were spun glass…

He cleared his throat and blinked away a rogue tear threatening to escape. “She’s one of a kind. Harrington, too. Shit, the whole bunch. You’ll see, you don’t have to be anyone but yourself around these guys. Promise.”

Eddie felt comforted as he watched you relax further into the passenger seat. He knew all about being ‘too much’ and how people treated those that dared to be unapologetically themselves. He had no idea someone as perfect as you ever experienced things similar to his own growing up.

The rest of the short drive consisted of talking about music and shows you’d been to, always with the promise of ‘when we see them next time.’ Including Eddie in your plans made Eddie’s insides all gooey and his heart flutter. He tried to keep reminding himself that just because you were being nice to him that it didn’t mean you were about to confess your undying love. It’s a problem Eddie has always had. He can’t love anything halfway; not his music, books, or even a few movies he’d been obsessed with over the years. It also bled into his relationships, this all-consuming, feral love. Uncle Wayne has always said that he wore his heart on his sleeve, even after life had given him every reason to build a barbed wire fence around it.

Eddie parked a little way uphill from the others since his van doubled as his tent and because he valued his privacy. He told himself he didn’t want the younger kids catching a whiff of his nightly smoking sesh (He knows they know about his drug dealing, but that doesn't mean he wants to flaunt it). A darker part of him knew that he might have to indulge in other nightly activities after watching you in a tiny, red bikini all day.

Eddie graciously helped everyone out with setting up their tents. However, he still periodically reminded anyone who would listen that he didn’t have to bother with tents since he owned the superior form of transportation that doubled as a car and a place to sleep. So what if his chest puffed up a little when you giggled at his comments? He didn’t think it warranted the gagging and eye-rolling he got from Henderson, Red, and both Sinclair siblings. Damn kids…

When everyone went to the campground showers to change into swimsuits, Eddie simply threw his shirt off, opting to swim in his cut-off jeans. He snickered, thinking about the look of horror he’d get from Mr. Former Swim Team Captain at his audacity (he banned denim from his pool to force Eddie into a pair of borrowed trunks, but they were at the lake now. King Steve had no power here).

When you left the showers with Robin and Nancy in a cherry red bikini, Eddie made a beeline for the toilets. There’s no way in the nine circles of hell he’d be able to swim around without getting hard at the sight of you. He walked around the corner of the building that housed the showers when he saw them. Eddie knew that was your canvas bag, the very one he saw you pull out of the floorboard of his van when you got out. There was no mistaking that the black, lace boy shorts lying on top of your other clothes were yours. It looked like you’d stepped out of them and laid them right on the bag. That could only mean one thing…

“Oh, fuck me sideways…”

You’d been wearing these. You sat in Eddie’s van wearing these exact panties.

He knew he’d probably hate himself forever for what he was about to do, but in his defense, Eddie did make sure you had extra pairs of clean panties before swiping these (He’s not a monster, okay? He wouldn’t dream of leaving a fair maiden pantiless). After taking them, cursing himself quietly, he high-tailed it back to his van to hide them. He couldn’t help feeling like Gollum, storing the One Ring away in his cave away from nosey hobbits.

Before going back to the lake, he couldn’t resist pulling the fabric to his face and inhaling deeply. Eddie’s eye’s rolled into the back of his head, groaning at the light scent of you that permeated the delicate fabric. He shook his head and threw them into the van to rest among his bedding. If he got too carried away now, he would never get rid of the persistent issue he had grown between his thighs.

After another adjustment and filling his thoughts with some of the most boner-killing scenarios, Eddie was finally able to rejoin everyone at the lake. If he had to remain solidly waist deep the entire time to avoid embarrassing himself and everyone around him… Well that was his business, wasn’t it?

As Eddie’s luck would have it, as soon as he dared to slip the tantalizing strip of fabric that haunted him all fucking day long over his face, there was a knock on his van door. He nearly jumped out of his skin, sitting up at lightning speed.

He cracked the back door open and gasped when he saw it was you, still clutching your panties firmly in his grip. He slammed the door shut before you could speak and dove towards his bedding, stuffing the offending garment deep into his pillowcase. Eddie took one large breath to steady himself before turning to open the back door again.

“H-hi, umm,” he wanted to curl up into a ball and die. He just knew you were on to him. You were probably knocking on his door to tell him what a filthy pervert he was and demand he hand over your underwear. “What’s uh… what’s up?”

You looked both amused and slightly confused, one eyebrow cocked upwards. “Well, the thing is,” you looked around the dark campground, biting your bottom lip. “My tent keeps collapsing. So I tried bunking with Robin and Steve, but there was no room. All the other tents are full too, so… if it wouldn’t be too weird, I guess…” you trailed off sheepishly.

“You wanna sleep in here?” Eddie knew his eyes rivaled the size of the full moon that hung above your heads. He felt equal parts horrified, shocked, and elated that you’d ended up seeking him out.

“I’m sorry if it’s too weird! I can just squeeze between Robin and Steve, it’s no big-”

“No,” Eddie barked. He cleared his throat a little and lowered his voice. “No, it’s totally fine. I don’t mind at all,” The thought of you snuggling up to Harrington was one he didn’t want to entertain. He hoped his smile was reassuring and not creepy like he felt it might be. You must not have cared since you beamed at him and announced you’d be back with your bedding in a minute.

Eddie scrambled around to ensure the mess in the back of his van wasn’t too out of hand. He’d thrown an old pair of boxers and an empty beer can over the driver’s side seat when he heard you knock again. He was relieved that he decided to shower and put on deodorant earlier when most of the other guys didn’t after swimming all afternoon. Eddie would have lain awake all night in misery if he’d had to share close quarters with you smelling like a fish.

Once you were both inside the van, he closed the door, and the silence was deafening. You must have noticed the tension because you shifted an inch closer and cleared your throat. That gave Eddie the courage to sneak a peek at you over his shoulder.

He nearly groaned as he watched you pull a joint out of your goddamn bra and wave it in front of you, cocking an eyebrow up and smiling.

“Purple palm tree delight?” Eddie whispered, his mouth dry as cotton before taking a single hit.

“You know it,” you responded, pulling a lighter out of your pillowcase. Eddie wondered why you weren’t using your pockets. He risked a glance down towards your lap. Your shorts (if they could even be called shorts instead of underwear) were so tiny that there was no way you’d fit anything in there, even if they did have pockets. He felt dizzy at the thought of you being in such little clothing this close to him all night.

You lit up the joint, the small, flickering flame casting your features in an enchanting glow. Eddie was close enough to smell that you’d used some of that expensive perfume. A tiny, pathetic part of him wondered if you’d done it for him. ‘Don’t be a fool’ he thought. ‘Just because she’s sharing her weed and talking about music with you doesn’t mean anything. Stop being a pathetic creep.’

He must have missed something you’d said because he heard you call his name and saw you looking at him questioningly.

“Oh, sorry. What was that?”

“I said, can I try something?”

“S-sure,” Eddie didn’t know (or care, if he’s being honest) if you’d asked to try out ritual sacrifice or if you asked to try a piece of his gum, but he knew he’d always let you try anything you’d wanted. “I need to get pretty close. Is that okay?”

Eddie nodded, transfixed by you getting up on your knees and leaning over his face. Your face was inches from his. Eddie thanked any deity that existed for the forethought he had to put his pillow over his lap. He’d beg to be struck down by lightning if you knew how easily he got boners when you were near him.

You brought the joint up to your lips. Before taking a hit, you asked, “Have you ever shotgunned, Eddie?”

Of course, he hadn’t. Eddie’s experience with the fairer sex was woefully lacking. Instead of admitting it out loud, he simply shook his head no.

“Do you want to try it?” you purred. Eddie gripped the pillow over his lap as he nodded yes furiously. You grinned and put the joint to your lips. Eddie could have cried when you placed your small hand on his cheek, thumb pushing his chin down to open his mouth for you.

Your hand traveled to the back of his neck as you released smoke into his waiting mouth, and Eddie shuddered. He grew so flustered that he could barely inhale what you exhaled towards him. His eyes closed, and he let out a shaky exhale as you began to play with his hair.

“How was that?” you asked, lips still heart-achingly close to his own. Eddie’s brain was mush. The defenses he usually kept up around you to appear cool were falling fast.

“Am I dreaming right now?” was the only coherent thought he could string together, so that’s what ended up coming out of his mouth.

Your laughter sounded like bells. “Why do you ask that, Eddie?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” you drew out your response, still looking at him suspiciously.

“I’ve been obsessed with you since I was sixteen,” you looked genuinely surprised, but Eddie couldn’t stop the words from flowing now that he unleashed them. “I think I might die if I have to pretend for one more day that I’m not,” He paused. Eddie was so terrified. He felt like he might puke. “You scare the ever-living shit out of me, but not in a ‘horror movie villain’ way,” he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. “In the way you might fear a beautiful warrior queen on the battlefield, or a siren out at sea.”

When he opened his eyes, he saw you wearing such a soft expression that he felt safe to keep talking. He said your name so quietly that he barely heard himself whisper it. “I’m just a freak that dreams about entertaining a goddess.”

Before he could feel insecure about spilling his guts to you in the back of his shitty van, your hands were holding his face, noses pressed together.

“Eddie Munson, you are a fool,” you whispered before attaching your lips to his in the sweetest kiss Eddie knew he’d ever had.

Eddie only nodded in agreement, clutching at your waist. He felt drunk off your lips, all of his insecurities taking a back seat as he reached for another kiss.

“You really had no clue?” you spoke into his ear as you kissed along his jawline.

“About what? Oh, fuck!” he whined as you sat down on top of him. Your weight in his lap felt heavenly despite the stupid pillow being in the way.

“About what?!” You pulled away with a wide eye stare. “I’ve been wanting to get in your pants since high school, you dingus!” You emphasized your point with a light slap to his chest. “I thought you hated me for the longest time! I was so nervous when I talked to you that one time we wore matching Iron Maiden shirts! When you ran away, I thought that was it. Then, years later, not only do I find out my crush is now friends with my best friend,” your arms wrapped around his neck as you leaned in. “I also find out that he’s got a big, fat crush on me too.” Your noses brushed and Eddie shivered.

“No fuckin’ way,” he whimpered as your lips brushed lightly.

“Yes fuckin’ way,” you replied, capturing him in another kiss.

Eddie didn’t question how you found out about his crush because he quite frankly didn’t have the brain power for it. He’d deal with all that later.

“Not to run you off or anything,” he sighed, relishing the feel of your soft hands exploring his torso. “But I was so obsessed with you back in school. Like, to a concerning degree.”

He didn’t expect you to moan into his neck at his admission, but he also wasn’t upset about it.

“Tell me about it, baby,” your voice was a husky whisper. “Keep talkin’ to me.”

“Oh god,” Eddie whined as he felt you begin to suck a mark into the delicate skin under his ear. “Feels… that feels so good.”

“Want me to mark you up? Show everyone you belong to me, Eddie?”

“Holy shit, yes! Please…”

“Then talk to me,” you kissed over the mark that began to form on his neck. “Tell me all about your little crush.”

“Fuck!” He cried out, bucking up into the pillow. “I, uh. I n-never even looked at anyone else in school after I saw you.”

“Not even the pretty little cheerleaders?”

“No,” he gasped when your lips met his again. “No one, I swear.”

You got off Eddie’s lap and he thought he might cry at the loss. The pillow hiding the tent he was sporting in his sweats was ripped away and for a moment, he felt self-conscious. You noticed him tense up and cupped his face.

“We can stop, you know?” Your eyes glowed with affection and Eddie wondered again how he was lucky enough to warrant that expression from you. “I’m just thrilled that we can be honest with each other now. We don’t have to do anyth-,”

“I’m a virgin,” Eddie blurred out. “Like a uh, mega virgin…”

Eddie could tell you were trying to keep your features neutral, but he saw the smile that wanted to peek out.

“A ‘mega virgin’?” You said, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

“Yes,” Eddie answered with a grimace. “Like an ‘I’ve never seen boobies in real life’ level of virgin. So, I’m probably going to be very bad at everything,” he looked up from his lap to lock eyes with you. Any trace of humor was gone, replaced with that honey-sweet fondness in your eyes.

“Can I be blunt with you, Eddie?” Your thumbs brushed his cheekbones softly as you spoke. “I’m so insanely attracted to you that I don’t think any touch you decide to give me could ever feel bad. Do you understand?”

“Y-yeah,” he responded with a whisper. “I feel the same way about you.”

Your forehead met his and he closed his eyes, afraid that when he opened them again, he’d realize this was all a dream.

“Do you wanna feel what kissing you does to me?” Eddie could only nod and pray to Lucifer that this was going where he thought it was. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your lower stomach. “Go ahead,” your lower lip brushed his as you spoke. “Feel how bad I want you.”

Eddie’s fingers trembled as they traveled past the elastic waistband of your tiny black shorts. He was mesmerized watching your mouth drop open and your eyelids lower in pleasure. When his hand’s slow descent made it to your soaked entrance, he was floored by how impossibly wet you were.

“Jesus H. Christ, this is unreal,” he moved his fingers up and down, not having any sort of plan, simply wanting to feel. By the way you grabbed his shoulders and started panting, you didn’t seem to mind his lack of skill too terribly. “Are you always this wet?”

You shook your head no instead of answering verbally. Eddie’s forehead fell to your collarbone as he let out a loud groan. His eyes were fixed on the outline of his hand in your shorts.

“Can we get these off?” He asked. “I wanna look, please.”

“Yeah, sure,” you responded, laying down on his blankets. You lifted your hips to take them off when Eddie grabbed your hands.

“Let me?” Eddie’s hands shook and his breath froze in his lungs. He’d dreamed of this exact scenario so many times before. This all seemed as fantastical as the D&D campaigns he spent hours writing.

“Please,” your voice was so airy and desperate. Eddie still couldn’t comprehend that he was the reason for it. You raised your hips and he slowly pulled your shorts off along with your panties. Immediately, he began running his fingers through your wetness, looking up at your face to judge your reactions.

“Does this feel good?” he asked. You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip with your eyes closed. He continued that way for a couple of minutes longer, panting at how wet his pointer and middle fingers had become. He laid his head on your thigh and kissed your damp skin. He kept his nose buried there, reveling in your smell and taste.

“I-I wanna make you come. Please,” your eyes met his and he kissed higher up your thigh, not looking away once. You threw your head back with a loud moan. Eddie felt like a god, your obvious signs of pleasure giving him newfound confidence. His fingers sped up while he added the slightest bit more pressure to his strokes. “That’s it, get loud for me. God, I fucking love your noises. Show me, baby,” he stopped touching you and grabbed one of the hands you had fisted in his blanket and wove your fingers together squeezing gently to get your attention. You nodded and brought his hand back down between your thighs.

“Put them inside,” you coached him along as he breached your soaked entrance. He went as slow as he could manage, eyes flitting between his disappearing fingers and your blissed-out face. Once he was in far enough, you spoke again. “Now, curl the- oh, fuck!”

Eddie grinned wildly at your outburst. He might be a virgin, but he’s not clueless, okay? Weirdly enough, he’d learned this little trick from Reefer Rick, of all people. They got high once and when Eddie let slip he was still a virgin, Rick took it upon himself to give him some sort of fucked up sex ed class on women’s pleasure. At the time, he wanted to curl up and die of shame. Now? All the embarrassment in the world was worth seeing your jaw drop and eyes roll back like this.

“There we go,” he purred. The part of Eddie’s personality that allowed him to go feral while DMing was bleeding over into his interactions with you. He sat up and began rubbing back and forth along your soaked clit with his other hand.

“Oh god, Eddie!” you looked close to tears as he massaged you inside and out. Your hips began writhing and when your thigh accidentally grazed Eddie’s stiff cock, he nearly doubled over. You noticed instantly and repeated the gesture.

“Fuck,” his movements faltered and you chuckled darkly, “Baby, if you make me come in my sweats I might die of embarrassment,” he whined through gritted teeth.

“What if I wanna see you do it?”

Eddie closed his eyes and inhaled deeply to collect himself. “Nope. Uh-uh,” he looked back down with determination in his features. “I’m getting you off first. I’ve dreamt of this for years. I refuse to jizz in my pants before you come all over my hands,” he redoubled his efforts, tongue peeking out of his mouth slightly in concentration.

Your eyes flew open and your body tensed. Eddie began to feel your walls fluttering around his fingers. It was the most intriguing and arousing thing he’d ever experienced.

“Holy shit,” he gasped. “You about to come, sweetheart?”

You nodded and grabbed his shoulder, sitting up a little. “Kiss me, please?”

Eddie melted. You wanting to kiss him while you came was so insanely sexy and endearing at the same time.

“‘Course I will, baby. Come here,” you crashed into each other, lips brushing together between panting breaths. You had one hand in Eddie’s hair and the other had a vice grip on his shoulder.

“Oh, fuck! Eddie, I’m-,”

“I know, I know. Give it to me,” he kissed you hard and imagined he’d died and gone to heaven when he felt your whine against his lips. You tensed all over. Eddie felt your walls clamp down on his fingers. He was amazed when you got impossibly wetter and threw yourself back into his pillow, nearly screaming in pleasure.

“Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl,” Eddie brushed your hair out of your eyes, staying like that for a few minutes. After you came down from your high, he laid down beside you.

Eddie held up the hand he’d had inside you and admired his soaked fingers before licking them clean and moaning shamelessly. You looked at him fondly, raising your eyebrows at his dramatics.

“What? Can’t help it,” he said, as he made a show of licking up his palm. “You’re sweet as honey.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, turning to throw your thigh over his lap. He shuddered and you grinned up at him with lidded eyes. “I bet you taste just as sweet, big boy.” Your thigh traveled lower. Eddie groaned and bucked his hips to chase the sensation. “You gonna let me find out? I know I said I wanted to see you get these sweats dirty, but I think I want you in my mouth more,” you whispered filth directly into his ear while petting along his lower stomach the entire time.

“If you keep doing that, I can’t make any promises I won’t get these pants dirty either way,” he moaned, grabbing your thigh and grinding it into his crotch again.

“You didn’t answer me,” you responded, sitting up and positioning yourself between Eddie’s spread thighs. “Are you gonna let me find out how you taste?” You pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in nothing but a black lace bra, one left little to the imagination.

“Uh, yes? Fuck yes!” Eddie was pulling at his hair, nearly hysterical with desire. He was on the verge of embarrassing himself because he was so worked up. He scrambled to get his pants down without knocking you over.

“Eddie,” you laughed lightly, grabbing his hands. “Let me,” he nodded and crossed his hands over his chest, not sure where they should go. It’s not like he’s ever been in this situation before.

“Relax,” you said as your fingers dipped below the waistband of his boxers. Eddie met your gaze and nodded. You began pulling his pants down and he tried his best to control his breathing.

He groaned long and low when you finally freed him from his clothing, the cooler air in the van a delicious contrast to his burning skin.

“I knew it,” you purred, wasting no time getting your hands on him. Your touches were firm but gentle, running up and down his shaft. Eddie keened when your palm slid over his weeping head, smearing precum down his length. “I knew you were hiding a monster in those tight jeans.”

“M-monster? Really?” Eddie lifted his head off the pillow and searched your face to make sure you weren’t just mocking him.

“Are you kidding? This thing has gotta be close to eight inches, Eddie!” You stroked him slowly from base to tip as you spoke. “It’s the biggest I’ve ever seen, anyway.”

“It is?” He said, probably a little too eagerly. He was practically glowing under your praise. And you seemed to catch on to it.

“It is baby,” your voice was low and sultry. “The biggest and the prettiest,” Eddie bit into his fist, trying to stave off his creeping orgasm as you began massaging his balls with your other hand. “I can already tell I’m gonna want you in my mouth any chance I get.”

“Oh fuck, oh god!” Eddie’s hips jolted, “I might not survive your hand, much less your mouth!”

You grabbed the fist he’d been biting and intertwined your fingers. “Only one way to find out.”

That was the last thing you said before taking him halfway down in one go. Eddie squeezed your hand and shouted.

“S-shiiit! Y-you’re so,” he panted and squirmed, trying to string together a coherent thought. “You’re so perfect. Your mouth is heaven,” you hummed in appreciation of the praise and the vibrations felt like electricity dancing along Eddie’s spine. “Oh goddammit, I’m gonna come so fuckin’ fast.”

You pulled off of him to meet his eyes, “Do it,” you took his hand and placed it on the back of your head, “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Oh, you sweet thing,” Eddie stroked your cheek affectionately, “You do. You really fuckin’ do.” His hand went back to your hair as you swallowed him down again. It wasn’t much longer before he began warning you.

“H-hey,” his voice rose in pitch the closer he got to his release, “L-listen, angel. I’m about to come. Pull off.”

“Want it in my mouth,” you said, kissing his hipbone as you kept stroking him. “Can I taste it? Please?”

“Goddammit, yes! Oh yes, please!”

You hummed around him and with just a few more bobs of your head, Eddie released straight into your throat.

You slowly bobbed your head, swallowing every time another wave of his release entered your mouth. After a few seconds, when you were sure he was done, you released him from your lips and sat up. Eddie’s vision returned just in time to watch you crawl over his body and lay onto his chest. Your hands carded through the damp curls around his face.

“Wanna know a secret, Eddie?” You whispered, tracing patterns into his scalp as his breathing finally slowed.

“Y-yeah.”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever let anyone come in my mouth.”

Eddie’s face whipped over to look at you. “Honest?”

You smiled as you bit your lower lip and nodded, “Honest, baby.”

He shuddered at the nickname. “Mmm, keep callin’ me sweet names and you’ll never get rid of me, ya know?”

“That’s the idea, my love.”

Eddie made a growling sound as he clung to you like a koala. “You’re lethal. You know that?”

You didn’t answer but sat up far enough to envelop Eddie’s plush lips in a deep kiss. You made out like that for a while, until he realized he began to harden again. You seemed to notice it as well.

“Down, boy,” you joked, stroking his sides and nipping at his throat.

Eddie groaned. “Nothing’s going down as long as I’m this close to you,” he turns you both to your sides facing each other. “I can’t stop thinking about how warm and wet you are,” Eddie squeezed your sides and kissed along your collarbone. “You squeezed my fingers so tight when you came. I wanna feel you doing that around my cock, pretty mama.”

You wrapped your leg around his hip and whined. “Eddie I’m not taking your virginity in the back of your van,” his hand found your still-soaked entrance and began petting you while his mouth worked your neck over. You returned the favor by fisting his damp cock.

“Oh god, I don’t give a fuck where it happens,” he gasps as you run your palm over his sensitive head. “Please, I need it,” he bit and sucked the delicate skin of your neck, whining the entire time.

“No, Eddie,” your firm tone made him shiver. “You’ll get my hand and my mouth tonight. As many times as you need it,” your hand sped up as his fingers followed suit against your clit. “But you’ll get my pussy in my bed. So you can fuck me into the mattress properly.” Eddie came for the second time with a shout into your fist.

He looked up in time to see you lick it up from your palm like it was sugar. Eddie’s brain short-circuited. “I-I wanna make you come again,” he blurted out, still circling your clit. You nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your forehead into his.

“Keep doing that,” you encouraged. Eddie nodded and picked up speed. He watched you in a trance as you unraveled under his touch for the second time in one night. He felt like a god.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty when you do that,” Eddie kissed all over your face as you laughed. “Ethereal, stunning, a work of art!”

“That’s all you, pretty boy,” you kissed the bridge of his nose and he melted.

“By the way, I’m totally down for van fucking, ma’am,” he feigned irritation as he poked your sides playfully. “Making a twenty-one-year-old virgin wait even longer is just cruel.”

“Don’t pout, Eddie,” you cooed, cuddling into his side. “I promise you’ll be glad you waited.”

“If you insist, princess,” he sighed, pulling your body close.

“I do,” you yawned. “Now sleep.”

“Hey, sweetheart?”

“Hmm?”

“How soon after we wake up can we get the fuck outta here and preferably into your bed?”

Eddie let out an ‘oof!’ as you slapped a pillow over his face.

“Less talk. More sleep.”

“Yes, love.”

[kaminocasey]

Do You Hear the People Sing Part 7

Summary: Fox does as he said he would and finds you.

Pairing: Commander Fox x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Sexual implications, Violence, Injuries, Angst

WC: 2K

A/N: WELL, here is the second to last chapter! The next will be the Epilogue! I'm very excited and also very sad bc I've been working on this since June and I've come to truly care for Fox more than I expected. Thank you for reading it and reblogging and liking and commenting. I'm appreciative of all of you. <3

Do You Hear the People Sing Masterlist

“Commander Fox.” Fives and Jesse approach an incredibly stressed and sleep deprived Fox. 

Fox had yet to meet the two arc troopers, never hardly working with the 501st but he’s heard good things about the two men. He heard they had a huge hand in the successful mission on Umbara and that they’d helped take down the rogue Jedi turned Sith Pong Krell. It for sure made his job easier that he didn’t have to deal with the Sith Scum.

“Fives. Jesse.” Fox sticks his hand out to shake their hands. “Good to finally meet you guys. Heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise.” Jesse nods. “We’re here to help.” 

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Fox tells them, genuinely.

He’s exhausted and has barely slept five hours in the last week. You’ve been gone far too long. He wakes up at night, angry and in tears. He tells himself that he can sleep when he gets you back safely.

“Fives and Jesse are two of the best arc troopers out there.” General Skywalker assures Fox. 

“I can also confirm that.” Rex tells Fox, patting him on the back. 

“We’re going to get her back, Commander.” Anakin assures him.

They’d been working tirelessly to find any sort of clue as to where you were. They’d finally found an informant of Dooku’s who barely took any sort of convincing, he was so afraid of Skywalker. It was a good thing too, because Fox was nearing desperation… There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to get you back at this point. 

As they board the ship, Fox thanks the men of the 501st and tells them to wake him up as soon as they reach Serenno. He knows he needs sleep. Before this, he was used to little sleep. He’d get maybe five hours a night. Now… he’s starting to experience dizziness and hallucinations. 

Yesterday, he thought he saw you walk past him and he started to chase after you. It was only one of the Coruscant medics and she was rightfully scared out of her mind when Fox grabbed her. He had apologized profusely. 

Fox finds a seat to take a nap in, not even caring if it’s comfortable. Within two seconds of sitting, he falls right asleep, dreaming of simpler days with you.

I’m gonna marry this woman, Fox thinks to himself, watching you sing along to the music as you cook breakfast, wearing his shirt. He’d never seen someone so beautiful.

When you turn around, you see your partner and start grinning immediately. You’d only been going out maybe a couple months and this was the first time that Fox stayed over. 

There had been a peaceful protest the day before, one that thankfully stayed peaceful, and Fox had offered to walk you home. When you had gotten home, you asked him if he wanted to stay.

“Good morning.” You make him a plate.

“Good morning, cyare.” He comes over to you, kissing you. 

You set the pan back down on the stove, wrapping your arms around the clone commander’s neck, running your hands through his curls. 

“How do you look so perfect in the morning?” He takes the plate from your hands, sits it down, and backs you up against the counter.

“I don’t, but you’re sweet for saying so.” You kiss him again as he picks you up and sits you on the counter. 

“Don’t argue with me.” He moves his lips to your neck and your mind goes blank except with need.

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him as close as possible. Breakfast is suddenly forgotten as he carries you back to bed to have his way with you. 

You had tried to escape. You had tried really hard. Even made it to Dooku’s hangar and almost to a ship, despite not knowing the first thing about flying. But you were prepared to deal with that problem when you got to the ship. 

Except… Ventress had intercepted you and beat the shit out of you, dragging you kicking and screaming back to your cell by your hair. 

Then, you tried again when some droid had brought you breakfast, which Ventress had been anticipating and force choked you so hard that you thought you teetered the near death line a little too closely. 

You weren’t a Jedi. You weren’t a clone. You weren’t a warrior. You weren’t built or trained for this sort of thing. 

Ventress had broken your spirit. You tried to fight back… and you lost. Fox had no idea where you were and you would most likely die here. Wherever here is. 

All you know is, you’d rather die than join the Sith.

“Fox, we’re here.” Rex wakes him up, gently.

Fox wakes up with a start and stands up, swaying with tiredness. Rex keeps him up straight.

“Remember what I said about your emotions, commander.” Skywalker reminds him. 

“Ha.” Rex walks away.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anakin follows after him.

“Are you alright?” Thorn asks Fox, coming up from the cockpit. 

Fox nods. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sure? You don’t need to sit it out?” Stone asks him.

Fox gives him a “You’re joking, right?” look and Thorn just pats him on the back, clearly having been joking to lighten the mood a little bit. Fox feels a little bad that he's been so dark and broody this last week, but he knows that Thorn understands.

“Let’s go get her back.” Fox nods and goes with Thorn and Stone out the hatch. 

“Ohhh little rebel.” Ventress’ voice sings.

You ignore her, pulling the thin piece of fabric that they’d given you up closer to your shoulder. Perhaps if you just ignore her, she’ll leave you alone.

“Your friends are here to get you.” She taunts you.

Your heart lurches at the thought of Fox. You don’t believe her, though. This is just a new trick.

“It’s too bad it’s no use.” She grabs your arm, yanking you up from the cot. 

You’re still bruised and in pain from her beating the crap out of you the first time. You’re pretty sure you have a few cracked ribs. Pain shoots through your chest and in your legs. 

“Let… me go.” Your voice cracks as you try to pull your arm away from her, obviously not succeeding.

“Amazing.” Ventress pulls you toward the door. “You still have an ounce of fight in you.”

You limp, feebly, as she drags you back toward the hangar that you had tried desperately to escape to the first time. You barely have it in you to lift up your head. 

“Ventress! Let her go!” You suddenly hear a familiar deep voice that you think belongs to Anakin Skywalker. 

Anakin Skywalker is here?

Weakly, you look up in time to see a blue lightsaber coming your way. Soon after, there’s blaster fire coming from the other side and you see Fox, Thorn, Stone, three clones in blue armor and Ahsoka Tano. 

Fox yells your name and your eyes lock onto him.

Fox. He came for you. He found you.

“Fox.” You whisper, falling to your knees as Ventress pushes you away and starts to go head to head with Anakin Skywalker. 

Ahsoka and Fox rush to your side. 

Fox found you. He finally found you and he can’t stop crying as he and Commander Tano pull you safely to their ship with Thorn and Stone covering them as they do so. He knows he shouldn’t be crying like this in front of a Jedi commander but right now, he can’t bring himself to give a single fuck. You’re here and back in his arms. That’s all that matters.

Ahsoka helps you into a seat and Fox tears off his helmet, dropping it to the floor as he falls to his knees in front of you.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” Ahsoka pats you on the shoulder, walking away. 

You and Fox look at each other with tears streaming down both of your faces as he cups your face, kissing you desperately between sobs. 

“It’s…okay.” You choke. “I’m… okay.” 

“I’m so sorry, cyare. I’m so so sorry.” He begs you for forgiveness. 

“Me too…” You whisper against his lips. 

He continues to kiss you, panting against you. 

“I love you so much.” He tells you. “Always. I’m never letting you go again. Please believe me.”

“I love you, too.” You assure him. “And I do.”

He finally stops crying and rests his head in your lap, holding onto your legs, and you comb your fingers through the familiar black curls, brushing your fingers across the gray patch that you’ve missed so much.

You look up at Thorn and Stone and they’re smiling down at you, clearly happy to see you as well. You’re just as happy to see them.

“Sorry, I’m such a mess.” You swallow the lump in your throat that keeps forming.

“Don’t be. We’re just glad you’re alright.” Thorn nods to you, leading Stone away. 

Fox gets back up, sitting in the chair next to you, checking all your bruises and cuts, wincing at all that he finds.

When Skywalker and the three blue armored clones finally get back on board, they take off immediately. 

Only once you’re in hyperspace do you finally relax. Exhaustion sets in as soon as the adrenaline wears off and you feel yourself go weak again.

Ahsoka brings over a medic by the name of Kix so he can check you for any serious damage, which you don’t think you have, but you still let him check you over with a scanner. Fox’s eyes and hand never leave you. Not even for a moment. You’re almost sure they never will again.

“You have a few cracked ribs but no internal bleeding.” Kix, tells you, giving you something for the pain. 

Fox doesn’t leave your side for even a second. As soon as Anakin Skywalker comes in, you know you’re about to be questioned.

“General… this can surely wait, right?” Fox stands up, protectively. “She needs rest.”

“I’m sorry, Fox… It can’t. I need to know what happened while everything is still fresh in her mind.” He tells him.

Fox looks down at you as if waiting for you to tell him to fight the general. It’s sweet, but unnecessary. You look at the general and nod.

“I’ll answer your questions, general.” You tell him.

You understand why he’s doing this. It’s not that big of a deal and you know the sooner you do this, the sooner you can take a nap and be alone with Fox again.

“Please, call me Anakin.” Anakin comes in and stands next to you.

“Or Skyguy as I like to call him.” Ahsoka appears in the doorway, chuckling.

“What do you want to know?” You ask him.

After Anakin finishes asking you questions, Fox helps you into a hoverchair and takes you to one of the bunk rooms. He helps you lay down and starts to sit on the floor but you pull him into the bunk with you.

“Are… are you sure?” He asks you, softly.

He hesitates but you’ve missed him desperately the last six months. If he turns you away now, it may kill you.

“Please… I need you.” You whisper. “Unless you don’t want to-”

“No, cyare. Of course I want to.” He gently climbs over you into the bunk. “I just know you’re in pain.”

“The pain meds that Kix gave me kicked in.” You tell him. “I need to be held by my riduur.”

With that last word, Fox aligns his body with yours, gently holding you close as you lay on your back. You feel his breath hitch as breathes you in and takes your hand, bringing it up to his lips before gently resting it down at your side. And soon after, you hear his soft snores that you’d missed so deeply. 

For the first time in six months, you both finally feel at peace. You can finally sleep peacefully again, knowing Fox is never going anywhere ever again.

TAGS: @grievouus @brynhildrmimi @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @misogirl828 @rexandechosandwich @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @twistedstitcher27 @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @ttzamara @erishimoon @brieblade @grizzersmamma @urfavwifeyy @tazmbc1 @stardust9905 @justanothersadperson93 @nekotaetae @eternalwaffle

[pythonees]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ THREES A CROWD — embry & paul

WARNINGS: you might have to re-read the series because it's been so long (my bad)

A/N: I am so so so sorry about my sudden hiatus. I haven't been doing all to well this past year (though I honestly think it's been for much longer) and it's been very draining cycling through medications that don't work. But I have been having a good patch this last week and decided I wanted to tackle the hell that is transferring chapters from wattpad to tumblr.

nine ˖⋆࿐໋₊

The three of you are sitting on the ground in the middle of your room. Between you is your now half-eaten pizza, dessert, and cans of soda. The boys look at you expectantly, waiting for an explanation on what had been happening the last few days. With a sigh, you put down your slice of pizza, ripping off a piece from the paper towel roll you had next to you to clean off the grease on your fingers.

"Its been happening since Tuesday," You mumble, unable to look either of them in the eye, "I was on the bus home when I first saw the eyes. I didn't think anything of it at first, I figured it was just a trick of the light, you know? But then on the way home, I think I was hallucinating? Everyone on the bus looked demonic. Like, their eyes turned black and they were just staring at me. I looked away for a second, and when I looked back everyone went back to normal."

"It happened again today, the eyes, but I know it wasn't a trick of the light or just stress. I could see the outline of their face, but couldn't make out who it was. But I know what I saw!" Towards the end, you start to get a little hysterical, desperately wanting them to believe you. The boys don't say anything for a second, casting each other a quick glance before they turn back to you.

"Okay, so, don't freak out," Embry starts, and you let out a frustrated groan, "but I think that leech has powers." It takes you a second to register what Embry said. You stare at him blankly, and he stares right back, starting to fidget when you don't say anything, "Hey-"

"You didn't think to tell me at that stupid meeting that vampires have powers?!"

"In my defence-"

"What? In what world does not telling me they have powers make any sense?" You glare at Embry, waiting for a response when you remember something else, "Do the Cullens have powers?"

The silence in the room is deafening. Embry looks vaguely scared, but thankfully Paul jumps in, putting down his slice of pizza. "Three of them, not all."

Taking a deep breath, you will yourself to calm down enough to ask, "Who?"

Embry chimes in again, a look of guilt on his face, "Edward can read minds, Alice can see the future, and Jasper can feel and control emotions. From what the elders have said, it's not very common for the cold ones to have powers, we just got unlucky."

You nod along to his explanation, relaxing when Embry mentions the rarity of powers. Taking a deep breath, you lean back against your bed. You grab the box of dessert sitting next to you, pulling apart the warm, cinnamon sugar covered bread with a satisfied hum.

While trying to open up the small tub of icing with one hand, you gesture to the tv stand with the other, "Now that we have this all figured out, wanna watch a movie?"

The boys abandon their slices of pizza to go looking through your movies, quickly cleaning their hands off. The two bicker over what film to watch, going back and forth until they decide on some action movie that you didn't even know you had.

When the boys turn back around, they both make a beeline to you, settling on either side as they waited for the DVD to start.

The three of you settle in comfortably once the movie starts, but only after a couple of minutes of you trying to figure out how to snuggle into both of them without asking them to move closer, both of their phones go off one right after the other. With a drawn-out groan, Embry pulls out his phone, since his went off first, reading through the message. He's silent for a moment, then lets out a pained sound.

"What?" Paul and you both ask, shooting each other playful looks quickly before turning to look at Embry.

"Jake is really starting to get annoying," Embry whines, pockets his phone as he stands up, with Paul wordlessly following his lead, "He's trying to disobey Alpha orders, so now we all have to go on patrol as punishment."

You scramble to stand as well, following them to your window as you smooth out your clothes. You move in closer than what's probably acceptable, but both boys seem to lose the tension in their bodies at your closeness.

"Give him hell for me, okay?"

You get an amused snort from Embry, and a muttered, "he'll be wishing for hell," from Paul.

Turning to the still open window, Paul is about to climb through when you tell them to wait. Both Embry and Paul turn to look at you, no doubt about to ask what wrong, but you're quick to cut them off.

You're somehow able to wrap your arms around them both, though your arms don't get very far. With one arm around each of their waists, you pull them into an awkward group hug. It takes a second, but they relax into it fully, arms moving to wrap around you.

The combined heat is nearly too much but somehow not enough at the same time. It makes you feel safe in a way you didn't know was possible, or that you even knew you needed.

"Please be careful," You mumble into their chest, squeezing your arms around them before reluctantly letting them both go. Their hands linger as they also pull away, looking like they would rather stay there then go out on patrol.

A close howl catches their attention, causing the boys to groan in unison.

"Sam won't let us do our patrol near your house, since you'll be a 'distraction'," Embry says, voice dripping in annoyance, "but Jared will be nearby, so you'll be safe."

With that, both the boys are gone, Paul jumping out the window first, followed quickly by Embry. You lean out the window to watch the two as they run off into the trees, wishing that they could have stayed there with you for just a little longer.

They pass by a wolf just barely seen through the dark, who you guess is Jared. You give him a quick wave, ducking back into your room to finish your work before turning in for the night.

©︎ pythonees — do not, under any circumstance, repost, plagiarize, modify or translate my work.

[6mommymilkers9]

Hi, can I ask for a, Splinter with a powerful witch s/o. She is loveing, karing, sweet, and understanding, but if you mess with this wich and hert the ones she loves, she becomes scary scary. Also one day she takes a hit for Splinter. Shredder sneaks up behind splinter, she pushes him out of the way and she gets hert. Love and happiness at the end please. If this is too much ignore this.

Totally! Love the idea :)

Fem! Reader

Take It Out On Me

Darkness. Some fear it, some bathe themselves in it. You were not one of those people, but here you were, drowning. The day had gone by as usual, taking care of your boys, spending time with your lover. Now, well, life had flip itself upside down.

The family was enjoying Space Hero’s, you cuddled against the rats side, your sons next to you. You couldn’t have asked for better. That was, until everything collapsed, quite literally. The walls, shaking with such force, you couldn’t tell if you were vibrating, or merely hallucinating.

As stones fell, show long forgotten, you rushed your sons to the nearest exit, Splinter opting to be left behind, foot soldiers trotting their way into your home. Some say time is no friend, this was true. It was drooling, slow. You saw how your sons were scared. For them and for their father. They tried many times to run back, but with a wave of your hand, you kept them by your side.

Everything seemed to be calm, the tunnels dark. Your only friend was the rhythmic drops of water. Thinking you were safe, you let your sons sit down, seeing how tired they were. Looking at the ground, running a hand through your hair, the dirt seemed to be moving? ‘Weird. I’m not doing anything’ Standing up quickly, raising your hands, forcibly shoving the turtles far from yourself. “Run my sons! And don’t look back!” Voice echoing throughout the tunnels, eyes wide as footsteps got louder by the second, dirt shaking hastily.

“Mom! We can leave you!” Raphael cried out, the others begging for you to come. “I said go!” You yelled, your eyes never leaving the turtles, watching as their figures became cloudy. One by one, the soldiers came, making their way to you, but never past. Their bodies, laying across the dirt floor, your breath heavy with anger. Screaming, that’s all that was heard. Not of the soldiers, but of you. A mother’s cry. One that could pierce the hearts of angels.

You fought, until there was nothing to stab, throw, punch. Nothing except the air. On your heels, you began to run. Your boys were safe, you just hoped your husband was too. “Yoshi!” Feet coming to a halt, rubble everywhere, almost quiet, except for the groans and sheath of metal.

Throughout your years, you’ve experienced chapters of history, but this? The scene before you, Splinter laying on the ground, battered and bloody, The Shredder, blade to the mutants throat, it torn something in you. “Get away from him!” You screamed, walls shaking underneath your breath.

The Shredder, deaf to your words, lifted his blade, swinging down onto his target, the feeling on flesh being pierced. Though, looking down, it wasn’t Hamato Yoshi against the blade, rather, it was you. “No one hurts my family.” Whimpering, you placed your hand on the blade, electricity shooting from your fingertips, to the armor dawning Oroku Saki. The last thing you heard, was the cries of your lover, pressure applied to your stomach.

Days, weeks, you were floating. You didn’t know where you were. You could hear voices, faint, but there. There was nothing to see, except the void. Afraid, you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, yet you were screaming. Was this hell? Heaven? You didn’t know. You wanted to go home.

It stayed like this for days, a week maybe? Time was indifferent here. You couldn’t feel anything, so why were you shaking all of the sudden? “Y/n?” “Mom? Please, wake up.”

The shaking became violent, almost painful, and then, light. Groaning, you lifted your arms, cursing the light that pierced your vision. “MOM!” Came screams, weight sinking onto your chest and shoulders. Opening your eyes, your sons held onto you, tears evident on their green scales. “Mom you’re awake.” Donatello whimpered, his grip tightening onto your shirt. The turtles, dared not to let you go. “Dad never left your side.”

“Y-Yoshi?” Sputtering, you looked up, your husband looking down at your, fur wet, tail wrapped around your arm. “Watashi no ai. You saved us.” A weak smile dawned your pale lips, an arm wrapped around your sons, the other, reaching to caress your lovers fur. “It’s my job, darling. You know this.” A small chuckle escaped the rats mouth, placing a hand on your own. “We missed you.” “You have no idea.”